#every time i try to make a conversation i just get ignored

[killerblueeyesxprettybluedude]

in which stiles hits burnout mid-research bender and goes unreachable. scott’s seen this happen to stiles enough times not to take it personally, but derek is another story. he’s not the most successful person socially in general, and he thought he was finally getting something right. but stiles just suddenly goes silent on him, and he can’t figure out what he did to cause it. and stiles is just, like, in bed, dissociating in front of a soap-cutting compilation video. feeling like shit, because he’s out of juice, and the monster of the week is going to kill them. and even playing and replaying their future deaths in his head, he can’t make himself care enough to do anything. 

Did you stop taking your meds? scott sends, and stiles sees it but doesn’t respond. doesn’t make food, or go outside, or do anything. he’s a zombie now, he’s lifeless. sapped of motivation. 

and derek isn’t texting. and stiles can just imagine what he’s thinking, how he’s gonna be. when he finds out stiles isn’t the reliable obsessive little nerd he thinks he is. the three AM research guy.

he is. he is that. a lot of the time. even when there’s no threat of dying. 

but he’s also this. 

low-grade dread. he’s a little bit used to it. it can motivate him, sometimes.

right now? no, nope. 

he would text derek, like one line. but then he’d have to have a conversation with him. derek would be like, What? and have a million questions. and stiles would feel like shit for ignoring him. 

or he wouldn’t ignore him, and he’d burn out worse. end up on the phone with him for four hours, end up scaring his dad with how much of a zombie he can be. zombie stiles, the real monster of the week. every week. every other one. 

the low-grade dread switches to high-grade dread, high grade anxiety. his body just does not care. 

“stiles,” derek says, four days later. “i’m outside.”

four days, and he can kind of almost fake human again. open the door, say, “derek. you look... miserable as always.”

banter. he’s almost got the banter back. wow, good job. good job on bare minimum. 

“stiles,” derek says. “what’s going on?”

“nothing,” stiles says. “i mean, something’s trying to kill us, generally, but i’m kinda used to that by now. you... are bleeding.”

“it’s not mine,” derek says, and stiles nods, nods.

“well that’s... reassuring. is it reassuring? did you kill someone?”

almost, he almost has his mojo back. derek, and his weird miserable face, and chaos, it’s refueling him. 

“i didn’t kill someone,” derek says, and stiles says, “i don’t know, it looks like there was bloodshed.”

derek shrugs. “it’s an old shirt.”

“it’s an old...” stiles nods, nods. “it’s an old shirt. of course it is. laundry day?”

leaning closer, feeling at it.

“you liar, you are bleeding.” lifting it now, and look at that: derek’s got a new giant mortal wound. a less insane supernatural being would be hyperventilating. stiles is slightly hyperventilating. 

“dude, are you serious?” dropping the edge of his shirt, grabbing his shoulder. “get in here! you weren’t gonna tell me?”

“you’re busy,” derek says. 

“i’m busy?!” stiles says. “you’re bleeding out. i think i can pencil you in somewhere.” 

dragging him into the bathroom, pushing a towel against his chest. “shut up and hold that.”

“it’s white,” derek says. 

“well, it’ll be pink now. a nice rusty maroon.” stiles presses it a little harder against him, and derek shudder-gasps. “oh my god. hold that.” that’s like, the scariest sound in the world, him breathing so sharply for a second. “you can, it’ll be your dedicated bleeding towel. ‘til the color’s consistent. who’s trying to kill you?”

“this time?” derek says.

“yeah, try to be specific. narrow it down to the last, like, two or three attempts on your life.״

“i don’t know,” derek says. “it was dark.”

“‘it was dark,’” stiles says. “do you not have super-senses? what’d it feel like?” it didn’t look like claws. no, it was weirdly rounded. “what, so something just stabbed you out of the blue? you weren’t, like, talking—or chasing—”

“no,” derek says, and stiles is like—rage. he’s just rage, for a second. 

taking over him. 

“right,” he says. “where—where were you? you can stay here,” he says, and derek looks at him, and stares.

“to be safe,” stiles says. “what? so you don’t get stabbed to death sometimes.”

derek says, “why’d you stop texting me?”

“that,” stiles says. “that, right. so... the thing is, about that...”

“don’t worry,” derek says, but there’s something wrong with his face, and stiles feels—and this is why he didn’t wanna do this. 

“i just thought i’d—that you were alright,” derek says, and then, “and you are. so—”

not quite looking at him, still holding the towel too loosely. heading for the door.

“hold on,” stiles says. “you got stabbed to death, and you came here to make sure that i—”

that he’s okay. because he stopped responding, and derek started, derek thought—

“i’ll be fine,” derek says, and stiles says, “yeah you will, you’re not leaving.” grabbing his shoulder again. easing his grip, when derek lets out a shaky little shudder. looking down at the towel, how derek’s barely even holding it anymore. “you understand the concept, right? keeping the blood inside of you.”

somehow, now, his blood pumping, he has all the energy in the world. which is great, because he needs to kill someone. 

or something. whatever did this, whatever just went ahead and stabbed him. even if it’s healing by now. 

he feels a little stupid, once the bleeding stops, once it’s just derek in an incredibly bloodstained shirt, holding an incredibly bloodstained towel, back to being hale and whole and healthy as normal. 

his hands can’t exactly believe it. they keep going back, checking. patting the spot where there’s nothing, where the blood’s already starting to dry. 

“sorry,” he says, when he does it again, reaches and kind of grazes the place where it was. before derek looks at him, and he realizes. “um, sorry. nervous habit.”

he shouldn’t feel so stupid about it. in the real world, or what you’d think was the real world, massive blood loss doesn’t just heal and vanish in three minutes. so if anything, he’d be weird for not checking on it. he’d be, that whole bloodline would like, die of darwin’s law. of like, a total lack of inquisitiveness. 

and maybe he’s still touching derek’s shirt, maybe. there’s still something wrong with his breathing. 

he’s looking at stiles like he can’t understand anything anymore.

[formulafanfics13]

oooooo I love your Driver Reactions fics. Especially the crush one. I am M E L T I N G🫠🫠🫠

Any chance you could do one when you get back where they react to reader avoiding them because she has a crush on THEM? I don't know if that sentence made sense. Anyway, thanks for feeding us 😛 ❤️

You Avoiding Them

lando norris He notices IMMEDIATELY. You used to laugh at everything he said. You used to wave at him across the paddock. Now you barely make eye contact. He dies a little inside. Starts overcompensating HARD. Loud jokes. Stupid comments. Laughing too loud in your direction. “Guess she hates me now,” he says to Oscar, but then spends three hours trying to find out what he did wrong. Eventually corners you in a hallway and blurts, “Did I fuck up or are you just allergic to me now?” You stammer something incoherent and he just STARES. “Oh,” he whispers. “You like me.” Then grins like a fucking child. “Say it. Come on. SAY IT.”

oscar piastri Thinks he imagined it at first. You’re quieter. Less present. More... gone. Watches you flinch when he walks into a room and starts spiralling internally. “I must’ve done something. Did I say something weird? Did I walk weird? Oh my god, was it the cheese conversation?” Does not know how to ask without sounding insane. Eventually just goes, “Hey… have I done something wrong?” You: “No.” Him: “Because you’re acting like I give you hives and I swear I don’t—unless they’re like good hives?” You freeze. He freezes. You: “I like you.” Him: “Wait. What.” Cue the slowest, most adorable red-faced “oh my god” moment ever.

charles leclerc Heartbroken. Fully confused. Whispers, “Pourquoi…?” to himself at night. Starts replaying every interaction in his head like a dramatic indie film. Goes quiet around you. Wears sad sunglasses. Writes poetry in Notes app titled Invisible To Her. Eventually breaks and corners you behind the motorhome. “Why are you avoiding me?” You: “Because I like you.” Him: stunned silence. Then: “So you run away?” You: “Yes?” Him: laughing, panicking, blushing “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Then cups your face and goes, “Don’t ever hide from me again.”

lewis hamilton Knows immediately. He’s perceptive. Your vibe changes. Your energy shifts. You won’t meet his eyes. You dodge every one-on-one interaction. You disappear the second he shows up. He’s confused, then curious, then cocky. “She's hiding from me,” he says to Roscoe. “That usually means something.” Eventually catches you in a quiet hallway and softly goes, “What are you afraid of?” You: “Nothing.” Him: “Liar.” Takes one step closer. Your breath stutters. His smirk widens. “You’ve got a crush on me.” You: “No I don’t.” Him: “You do. And you’re terrible at hiding it. Come here.”

max verstappen Thinks you’re mad at him. Spirals hard. Asks around. “Did I say something weird? Did I offend her?” Stalks your socials. Realises you’re still liking his posts. Gets more confused. Eventually corners you in a garage and goes, “If you hate me just say it to my face.” You: “I don’t hate you.” Max: “Then why the fuck do you run away every time I look at you?” You: whispers “Because I like you.” He stares. Blinks. Takes a step back like you slapped him. “Oh.” Goes quiet. Then: “Okay. Cool. You scared the shit out of me. Wanna go for a drive?”

yuki tsunoda Angry. “You’re ghosting me? What the fuck?” Storms into a room like an angry raccoon in Dior. Follows you around the paddock going, “You ignoring me? Seriously? After all the ramen we shared?” You: “I’m not-” Him: “You are! You won’t even look at me!” Eventually corners you and says, “I didn’t do anything, so if you’re mad, you better explain it.” You go silent. He stares. “You like me, don’t you?” You nod. He stares. “Holy shit.” Runs away screaming. Comes back five minutes later with flowers from the team hospitality.

carlos sainz His ego shatters. “Why doesn’t she look at me anymore?” Asks everyone. Multiple times. Genuinely goes to bed upset. Wears cologne more often. Gets his hair done. Starts saying random Italian phrases louder when you’re near. Finally stops you outside your trailer and goes, “I don’t know what I did, but if I hurt you, tell me.” You: “You didn’t. I just… like you.” Carlos, stunned: “That’s it? That’s why you’ve been ignoring me? Dios mío.” You: “I didn’t know how to act.” Him: “Just act normal. Like you love me. That’s what I’m doing.”

alex albon Spirals in silence. “Do I smell? Is it the hair? Did I say something too weird?” Oscar: “She likes you, idiot.” Alex: “She what now?” Starts watching you more. Realises you do flinch when he’s near. You do avoid eye contact. Internal screaming. Finally walks up and blurts, “I make you nervous, don’t I?” You: “What?” Him: “Because you like me.” You: “No I don’t.” Him: “Then why are you sweating right now?” You: “Because you’re standing very close.” Him: “Exactly.”

george russell Defo logs it like a spreadsheet error. He's all like, “Something’s different in the data.” Starts analysing your body language like telemetry. Takes it personally. Thinks you’re over him. Eventually corners you at an event and says, “Did I lose your respect?” You: “No.” Him: “Then why are you avoiding me?” You: “Because I like you, and I’m trying to not embarrass myself.” George: visibly crashes inside. “You could’ve just said that. I’ve been planning our wedding in my head for two months.”

kimi antonelli Says nothing. Watches you avoid him. Watches you panic when he walks into a room. Watches you run away. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t text. Doesn’t force it. Just waits. Quiet. Observing. Then one day, you sit alone at lunch. He sits beside you and slides a coffee over. You: “What’s this?” Him: “You’ve been hiding from me.” You: silent Him: “So I brought you a peace offering. And I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’re scared of looking at me.” You: barely whisper “Because I like you.” He smiles, just barely. “Good. Then stop running.”

lance stroll Confused. Like literally Confused.Com... “Is she mad?” Tries to smile at you. Gets nothing. Tries to wave. You walk past. Tells Fernando, “She definitely hates me now.” Eventually gets tired of guessing and just walks straight up to you. “You’re ignoring me. That’s fine. I just want to know why.” You: “I don’t mean to—” Him: “You do.” You: sigh “I like you.” Lance: blinking “So... you’re running away from me because you like me?” You: “Yes.” Him: “Okay. Cool. I’ll chase you then.”

fernando alonso Knows exactly what you’re doing. You stop meeting his eyes. Start walking out of rooms. Laugh less. He clocks it immediately. “Ah,” he says to himself. “She’s falling.” Doesn’t confront you. Just starts turning up the heat. Touches your lower back when he passes. Says your name slower. Stares a second too long. Eventually pins you with a smirk and says, “I scare you, don’t I?” You: “No.” Him: “You do everything to avoid me. That means you want me.” You open your mouth. He raises a brow. “Don’t bother denying it. Just come here.”

liam lawson Cries. Not literally, but inside. Feels like his world collapsed because you suddenly stopped laughing at his jokes. Asks Yuki for advice. Yuki tells him to grow some balls. Tries to act normal. Fails. Eventually blurts out, “Did I make you hate me?” You: “No!” Him: “Then why do you look like you’re in pain every time I walk in?” You: sigh “Because I like you and it’s embarrassing.” Liam: frozen Liam: blushing Liam: “Holy fuck. You’re embarrassing? I cried after your Instagram story last week.”

isack hadjar Watches you act different. Smiles a little. Knows what it is. Pretends he doesn’t. Then finally traps you in conversation and goes, “So what’s the deal? Too shy to say hi now?” You shrug. He steps closer. “You used to laugh when I made eye contact. Now you leave the room.” You: “I like you, okay?” Isack: “I know.” You: “What?” Him: “I knew. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

ollie bearman Hurts his feelings. He waves. You look away. He says hi. You ignore it. He goes home and stares at the ceiling wondering why you hate him.🥺 Texts you: “did I do something???” You don’t answer. He spirals. Eventually corners you and says, “If you hate me, just say it to my face.” You whisper, “I like you.” He short-circuits. “You WHAT?” You repeat it. He turns red. Then grins so big it hurts. “Okay. Cool. Same. Also… you owe me three weeks of hugs for that emotional damage.”

esteban ocon So dramatic about it. You stop making eye contact? He writes a fucking novel in his head. “She hates me. She must hate me. Was I annoying? Am I annoying? Have I always been annoying?” Starts dressing better. Gets new sunglasses. Compliments your outfit just loud enough that you hear. Eventually corners you with a weirdly serious look and goes, “We used to talk. Did I lose you?” You: “No.” Him: “Then why do you avoid me?” You: quietly “Because I like you.” He just… stares. Then full body sighs. “Okay. Great. Good. I’ll go cry now. But like, in a happy way.”

pierre gasly Absolutely feral over it. Probably cries to Charles. You used to flirt back. Now you dodge him. “You’re ghosting me? ME?” Texting your name in all caps. Showing up to conversations you’re in just to get ignored in person. Loudly flirts with other people to see if you react. You don’t. He sulks. Eventually corners you like, “You avoiding me because you don’t like me anymore?” You: “I’m avoiding you because I do like you and I don’t know what to do about it.” Him: pause Him: “So you’re insane. Okay. I can work with that.” Proceeds to flirt so hard the entire room clears out.

franco colapinto Panics. Fully, completely spirals. “You’re mad at me. You have to be mad at me. Did I breathe wrong? Did I blink too fast?” Runs simulations in his head like it’s the final lap of Monaco. Eventually corners you outside and just blurts, “You hate me now?” You: “No! I’m just nervous.” Franco: “Of me?” You: “Because I like you, idiot.” Franco: physically collapses against a wall “Don’t say stuff like that. I’m too emotionally fragile for this.” Immediately takes you out for pizza and stares at you like you’re the moon.

nico hülkenberg So calm it’s terrifying. You stop talking to him. He notices instantly. Says nothing. But watches. Closely. Every flinch, every sidestep, every blush, he clocks it like data. Then one day, with zero warning, he corners you in a hallway and goes, “You’ve been avoiding me. That means you either hate me, or want me. Which is it?” You freeze. He leans in, eyes dark. “Come on. Say it.” You: “I like you.” Nico: “There it is.” Then walks away. Like a fucking menace. (He’ll kiss you the next day like nothing happened.)

gabriel bortoleto “Bro. She’s literally ignoring me.” Whining to anyone who’ll listen. “She laughed at my joke last week. Laughed. Now I say hi and she vanishes like a fucking magician.” Spends way too much time rehearsing what to say. Ends up doing nothing. Eventually blurts it out mid-convo: “Did I upset you? Are you mad? Is this a Sagittarius thing? I don’t know your chart.” You blink. “I like you, dumbass.” He short-circuits. Full brain reboot. “Oh. Okay. That’s cool. That’s good. I’m chill. I’m totally chill.” He is not chill. He’s sweating through his shirt.

Others

toto wolff He notices. Instantly. You avoid him at one sponsor event. He says nothing. Then it happens again. And again. By the fourth time, he corners you like you just cost Mercedes a championship. “I’m not stupid,” he says, voice low and tight. “I know when someone’s avoiding me.” You: “I just-” Toto: “What? You just what? Don’t like looking at me anymore?” You crack. “I like you, okay?” He pauses. Slowly nods. “Right.” Then steps way too close and says, “Next time, just say hello. I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

james vowles This man spirals like it’s a race weekend gone to hell. You used to be friendly. Now you physically walk in the opposite direction. He stares after you like you’ve stabbed him. Texts you: “Did I do something wrong?” Deletes it. Sends a professional email instead. Finally corners you in the hospitality lounge and asks, “Did I offend you somehow?” You stutter. Avoid his eyes. He sighs, already looking crushed. “Alright. I’ll give you space-” You: “I like you.” James.exe has crashed. “Oh,” he says, blinking. “Well. That’s... an acceptable reason. Want to get coffee and pretend we’re normal?”

paul aron Panics. Loudly. Dramatically. Pathetically. Probs crying. Tells like three different people, “She’s avoiding me. She fucking hates me. I’ve ruined everything. I’m never making eye contact with another woman again.” Overthinks every past interaction. Eventually finds you in the paddock and blurts, “If you hate me just say it. I won’t cry. I mean I will, but not in public.” You: “I like you.” Him: pauses “Wait, what?” You: “That’s why I avoid you.” Paul: “THAT’S WORSE. THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE.” You: “Why?” Him: “Because now I’m in love.”

arthur leclerc Heartbroken. “You didn’t even say hi to me today,” he mutters to himself like he’s in a French art film. Like fully sat in the passanger seat as Charles drives, and he's looking out the windor, one hand against the grass  as it rains outside - like he's in a movie or something. Watches you walk past him. Again. Without looking. Whispers, “Je suis fini.” Texts Charles for advice. Charles is useless. Eventually corners you outside a trailer and asks, “Did I do something wrong?” You: “No.” Him: “Then why do you run away?” You: “Because I like you.” He gasps. Audibly. “Mon dieu.” Then covers his face and says, “I need to sit down.” You laugh. He looks at you, fully wrecked, and says, “Don’t laugh. I’m already writing our wedding vows in my head.”

pato o’ward Loses his mind. “You’re ignoring me now? ME? You used to flirt back. What happened?” Whines about it for days. Asks literally everyone. “Did she get bored of me? Am I not hot anymore? Did I say something weird?” Eventually traps you by the bar and goes, “Okay, full offence, why the fuck are you pretending I don’t exist?” You: “Because I like you and I didn’t know how to deal with it.” He stares. Then laughs so hard he drops his drink. “You LIKE me?” “Like for real?” Spins in a full circle. Then looks you dead in the eye and says, “You’re fucked. Because now I’m not letting you escape.”

sebastian vettel Feels it. Quietly. You stop laughing at his jokes. Stop walking beside him. Stop showing up early like you used to. He notices. Says nothing. Until one day he finds you in a quiet corridor and goes, “You don’t talk to me anymore.” You: “I got busy.” Him: “You got careful.” You look away. He smiles. “You like me, don’t you?” You go still. He nods. “I’m right.” Then soft, vulnerable, painfully sincere: “You don’t have to hide it. Not from me.” And you melt. Right there in the hallway.

kimi räikkönen Says nothing for days. Just watches. You used to linger when he walked into a room. Now you leave. He notices. Doesn’t speak. Just drinks his vodka and stares. Then one day, out of nowhere, he walks up and says, “You stop looking at me. Why?” You: “No reason.” Kimi: “That’s a lie.” You: “Because I like you.” He stares. Nods. “Okay.” Then turns around and walks away. Next morning, he leaves a coffee on your desk and a note that says, “You can look at me again now.”

jack doohan FREAKS. “You don’t talk to me anymore,” he texts. Then deletes it. Then texts again: “Did I do something weird? I mean besides existing? Or Shaving my head?” Fully spirals. Begs Lance for advice. Pierre tells him to grow up. Eventually explodes. “You don’t laugh at my jokes anymore. You avoid me. You barely look at me. What the fuck did I do?” You: “I like you.” Jack: screaming internally “Why didn’t you just say that???” You: “Because I panicked!” Jack: “Okay well now I’m panicking but in like… a good way. A hot way.”

david coulthard Smirks. Watches you avoid him with lowkey amusement. “Oh, she’s shy now?” Starts finding excuses to corner you. Asks you to hand him things. To join meetings. To pass him napkins he absolutely does not need. Eventually traps you alone and says, “You used to look me in the eye. Now you don’t. I wonder why.” You: “Because I like you.” Him: “Well, fuck me gently with a stopwatch.” Then smiles, steps closer, and murmurs, “So now that we’ve cleared that up… are you gonna keep running, or do I finally get to kiss you?”

jenson button Genuinely confused at first. You used to tease him. Now you won’t even say hello. “Did I say something dumb? I mean, I probably did, but like… specifically what was it?” Overthinks it to death. Eventually blurts it out: “You’re ignoring me and I just want to know if I should be embarrassed or emotionally devastated.” You: “I like you.” Him: “That’s not an answer, that’s a confession.” You: “Yeah.” Him: grinning like the sun “Cool. Cool cool cool. Want to go make bad decisions together right now or wait five minutes?”

mick schumacher Breaks his whole heart over it. You used to light up around him. Now you barely glance in his direction. Goes home and stares at the ceiling like, “She hates me. I knew it. I always mess this up. I’m too soft. She wants someone cooler. Someone taller. Someone with an edge.” Texts you: “Everything okay?” Doesn’t send it. Writes it again. Still doesn’t send it. Eventually corners you by the coffee machine with big sad blue eyes. “Did I do something wrong?” You whisper, “No. I like you.” He BLUSHES. “Wait… you like me? You were avoiding me because of that?” Smiles so wide it hurts. “Don’t do that again. You scared the hell out of me.”

checo pérez Confused. You’re polite, distant, too formal. Won’t meet his eye. Won’t even joke with him anymore. Asks quietly, “Did I overstep something?” When you shake your head, he frowns deeper. Eventually walks up, stands beside you, and says, “You treat everyone the same, except me. Why?” You freeze. Checo stares at you, arms crossed, waiting. You mumble, “Because I like you.” He goes quiet. Then exhales softly and murmurs, “Thank god. I thought I’d scared you off.” Then touches your hand gently and says, “You can avoid everyone else. Just not me.”

christian horner Finds it entertaining. Raises an eyebrow when you avoid him in the hospitality suite. Smirks when you turn the other way during a meeting. Tells Max, “Someone’s got a little crush.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re imagining things.” He is not. Eventually corners you in the paddock and says, “Are you actively trying not to look at me, or is it just a really unfortunate optical pattern?” You stutter. He leans closer. “Ah,” he murmurs, “so it is about me.” You: “Yes.” Him: “Well then. We’re going to have to do something about that.”

logan sargeant Totally panics. “You okay?” You: “Yep.” Him: “Sure? Because you used to like… talk to me?” You: “Busy.” He spirals. Asks Alex, “Do I smell? Did I say something dumb?” Eventually walks up to you and nervously blurts, “Are you mad at me?” You: “No, Logan. I just have a crush on you and I don’t know how to act normal.” Him: “Oh.” Him: “Ohhhhhhh.” Him: “Okay. Um. Do you wanna like… not avoid me? Because I really like seeing your face. Even when you look like you want to kill me.”

nico rosberg Deeply insulted. Raises an eyebrow when you stop waving. Mutters to himself, “Well, that’s new.” Thinks you’re playing games. Thinks you’re being cold for fun. Until someone tells him, “She’s into you, idiot.” He short-circuits. Approaches you with that perfect media-trained charm and says, “I noticed you’ve been… distant. That’s not like you.” You mumble that it’s nothing. He lowers his voice and says, “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know.” You: “Hiding what?” Nico: “The way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Then he smiles. The kind of smile that ruins lives.

valtteri bottas Quiet confusion. Watches you avoid him and just… files it away. Sips his coffee. Furrows his brow. Stares into the distance thinking about it for the rest of the day. Eventually stops you outside the garage and gently asks, “Did I do something to upset you?” You: “No.” Him: “You’re avoiding me.” You: “I like you and I didn’t know how to deal with it.” Valtteri just blinks. “Oh. Okay.” Then, very softly: “Would it help if I said I like you too? I can make you a one of a kind calendar?” You almost fall over. He smiles. “That’s better. Let’s not avoid each other anymore.”

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

Did Izuku say, "Give him back TO ME"?

Someone in my fixed bkdk doujinshi server asked about this moment:

Chapter 81

"about that scene near the end of the training camp arc when bakugou is kidnapped, and people say that Izuku's 'give him back' was possessive speech in the original Japanese, like an implied 'give him back [to me]' ? I was wondering if someone could explain the speech that's used there a little more!"

My answer (copied from discord, edited for brevity and clarity)

there is one component of this topic that everyone completely ignores and that is the fact that Katsuki is literally in a marble when this conversation transpires

mr. compress is holding him in his fucking hand

Mr. Compress says that he "received/took into his possession" Katsuki. Like, I'm not gonna say morau (which he conjugates as moracchatta) is NEVER used for living things/human beings, but I can't?? really think of a time I've seen it? because unlike in English when one says receive and it can mean "they came into my home and I received them," Japanese uses other words for that.

and notice the little dots next to the word? He is emphasizing that he has TAKEN Katsuki, he is holding him in the palm of his hand. he is their hostage and literally CANNOT escape, he has no free will anymore.

so if anything, Mr. Compress objectifies Katsuki first

LITERALLY AND WITH HIS SPEECH.

there is a really important nuance to 返す that gets glossed over: it is not just for returning objects, nor for abstract ideas (paying someone back a favor uses this word), it is also used for restoring something to its original state.

Article examining the differences between 返す and 戻す (machine translated for easy viewing)

Like when something flipped over gets returned to its original state, you use 返す. So, one could see a layer to it that is Izuku saying "give him back [which includes turning him back to a human]"

Izuku later uses the term 取り返す when talking about retrieving Tokoyami and Katsuki. that's "take - return," two verbs together to mean "to get back again, regain, recover." notice it uses the same kanji, kaesu.

now I will admit there are elements of possessiveness to what Izuku says. Mr. Compress is not wrong

however people get real weird about this, to the point where I've seen people say Izuku is LITERALLY treating Katsuki as an OBJECT, not a PERSON, and that's just not true, and it belies a real lack of understanding about uchi and soto: in-group and out-group

Izuku and Katsuki are in-group with each other. They just are. It's a fact. Izuku has every right to see Katsuki as part of his circle, part of his inner world, and in fact!!

SO DO THE REST OF THE CLASS

BECAUSE HE'S A STUDENT, THEIR CLASSMATE

MR. COMPRESS IS AN INVADER

he is an OUTSIDER, with no connection to Katsuki

when he insults what Izuku says and suggests Izuku is denying Katsuki his personhood or freedom, he is trying to imply Izuku has no right to Katsuki, because the league's purpose is to MAKE HIM JOIN THEM.

he is saying, "you have no right to decide that YOU'RE Bakugou's in-group, and WE'RE not. He can decide for himself if he wants to join us."

here we have a literal villain, objectifying and kidnapping someone, and then trying to say "hey now buddy, he can decide FOR HIMSELF if he wants to join us!"

BUDDY YOU LITERALLY TOOK AWAY HIS FREE WILL LMAO

and Izuku is naturally extremely upset that they have done this to Katsuki and he flips out.

we don't need some loaded, very narrow interpretation that Izuku was objectifying Katsuki.

it is IN FACT enough that Izuku is LOSING HIS SHIT and CANNOT CALM DOWN.

does kaese have a component of ownership? yes. would Izuku have said this about a stranger he saw get kidnapped? no, probably not. he probably would have used a different word for a stranger. but that does not mean Izuku is treating Katsuki like an object, he is correctly treating Katsuki as his in-group.

also, I wanna point out, the original person [who claimed he is treating him as an object] insisted that Izuku should have used 帰せ [if he wasn’t being possessive]

and I'm sorry, no. 帰 has very specific implications of physical location and specifically, one's home

"SEND KACCHAN BACK HOME TO HIS PARENTS" what???

Izuku is emphasizing, free him, give him back to us, his in-group. you have taken him from his rightful place, which is WITH US.

does he mean himself, a little more than everyone else? yeah, he probably does. is this explicit? no, dude, chill.

I said that it has elements of possessiveness, and this is true, but it is silly to act like this innately objectifies something. I saw 取り返す used for "taking back customers" LMAO. as in, a rival business took them away and you win them back.

yes there is an element of possessiveness "they're MY customers! I want them back!" but it's not like DEHUMANIZING to the extent [some people are insisting it is].

if a native Japanese speaker made this kind of claim [the original poster of this claim was not as far as I know], I would still find it alarming because imagine saying, about English, "she said she was gonna get her man back -- GET is for THINGS, she doesn't see him as a PERSON"

that's bizarre to say???

can we derive some thematic or narrative implications from word choices? yes, certainly.

that does NOT mean we should pick THE MOST EXTREME interpretation possible.

[joshujin]

ot13 on love island usa

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mini guide to love island for non-watchers!

cast song/dance: is this love by xg villa boys: scoups, joshua, hoshi, seungkwan, dino bombshells: jeonghan, wonwoo, mingyu, jun casa amor: woozi, dk, minghao, vernon

cw/tags: suggestive, regular reality tv trash things, you pick the winner a/n: this season pissed me tf off. did i watch every single night without fail? yeah. yeah, i did. but i'm going to write svt hcs about it bc i'm convinced my version would be more fun!!! anyway, remember this is love island so some of these guys are dumb, messy, toxic, or all of the above. that's what makes it fun! :) it is not-at-all a reflection of any of the members or how i see them. also, don’t think too hard about how many people are in the villa or how all the casa boys make it back. just enjoy it LOL.

scoups

♫ intro video song: fever - enhypen

he’s the OG guy who gets cuffed on day ONE but nobody dogs on him for it bc they’re kind of intimidated by him (bombshells are a different story; they give him so much shit). he obnoxiously makes out with his partner every moment of the day, and social media is all "do they even know anything about each other?" no. they do not. his partner doesn’t even realize his name isn’t actually scoups. but their physical chemistry goes crazy so whatever i guess. they get kicked out of the room early on bc they’re too noisy at night so they start sleeping (aka fucking) in soul ties. they fight a lot bc they’re both super jealous people. he’s immediately beefing with every single male bombshell that comes in and flat out ignores female bombshells. so much so, that america creates a misogynist scoups agenda. they watch as this man stares blankly in the other direction when female bombshells say hello. simply scoffs when they ask to to pull him for a chat. doesn’t even entertain breathing near any girls during challenges. the islanders kind of get annoyed with this behavior and they start to think he’s boring, but his partner is ofc very pleased with how “well-behaved” he is. but... she doesn't return that energy. she eagerly gives male bombshells her time and she happily kisses people during challenges (“it’s just a challenge!” “I DON’T CARE” “we aren’t even closed off!” “AGAIN. I DO NOT CARE!”), so he’s constantly raging lmao. when casa comes around and the producers desperately present him with someone a little more compatible with his expectations for a partner, he finally starts to open his eyes. he still doesn’t do anything bc as toxic as he can be sometimes, he’s still trying to be respectful! he does bring his casa girl back to the villa, though, and his villa partner has the crashout of all crashouts. he tries to calm her down and explain he just wants to explore, but she won't hear any of it, calling him all kinds of names. he doesn’t know why but he continues to try and get on her good side or at least explain why he brought his casa partner back. she just keeps ignoring him and talking to several guys (who won’t really give her much bc they’re scared of scoups). he’s making them both breakfasts every morning (OG girl keeps throwing the food out or even at him) and he keeps splitting his time between having nice conversations with casa girl and getting ignored by OG girl. and then... movie night happens and he sees what she was up to during her time at casa, and let's just say he's very happy he explored. anyway, she's voted out and he gets to experience some peace with his new partner, who genuinely likes him, knows his government name, and is completely uninterested in making him jealous or raising his blood pressure. both america and the villa like him a lot more after that lol.

💗: wins the heart rate challenge. as a firefighter. or devil. you decide.

jeonghan

♫ intro video song: strategy - twice feat. megan thee stallion

INSTIGATOR 🫵🏼 he’s one of the earlier bombshells, if not the very first one; his walk-in song is "1-800-hot-n-fun" by le sserafim. he comes in on a game night where the girls are blindfolded and ranking kisses from the villa boys. he makes out with every single one of the girls (♫ i like to dance when i party / i like to kiss everybody ♫ like, hello?) while the guys just have to watch LMAO. the girls unanimously agree that the last kiss was the best kiss and surprise! it’s fucking jeonghan. he's just hella smirking while the other guys are standing there, angry, clenching jaws and fists, and rolling their eyes and shit. his intro video is typical bombshell behavior: “i’m not here to make friends," “i don’t care who i make mad,” “i’m here for me and for love.” reader, he is absolutely not here for love but he is 1000000% here for the $100k prize. as such, he’s constantly whispering in people’s ears and trying to break everyone else up lmao. but he’s also so charismatic that even if some of his scheming comes to light, everyone still somehow tolerates him. some of them are even delighted by him. he gets a kick out of pissing the other men off by making out with their partners during challenges and plays innocent after, bro-ing it up with them and saying it was just for the game… just to turn around and tell the girls he loved the kiss and he'd like to get to know them (bruh. all of them...?). he never stays in one couple for long, but only bc he’s not really interested in anyone so they’re constantly choosing another guy at the next possible recoupling. regardless, he manages to stay in the game all season either from sheer luck, from friendship couplings, or from america voting him to stay in bc they like his mess and he does put annoying people in their place with his smart ass mouth. karma comes in the form of movie night, though, which is a fucking nightmare for this man lmfao. everyone sees how much he's been lying and gossiping and playing all sides, and the entire villa erupts into chaos. i’m talking multiple guys threatening violence. every single girl (including his own partner) throwing popcorn. his name trending worldwide on social media. he never made a meaningful connection bc he was too busy playing games and after making an enemy out of the entire island, he gets voted out shortly after movie night. but his personality is so funny on social media that america immediately forgives him. the remaining islanders even admit the house is a little sad and boring without him and they all become genuine besties with him post show.

joshua

♫ intro video song: stupid in love - max feat. huh yunjin

long-time fans of love island watch his intro video and immediately know this man should not be in the villa. the intro video goes like this. he says he's never been in a serious relationship bc he's scared of getting hurt. he wants someone he feels safe with and hasn't experienced that yet. he says his dream date can be anything, but that he'll think of it as perfect if the time goes by without him noticing bc he's enjoying her company so much. he says it feels silly to go on love island but there are few things he won't do for the sake of love. in short, everyone immediately pegs him for the sincere, honest-to-god LOVER BOY he is. most of the OG girls skip over him bc they all want a bad boy even if they won’t admit it (scoups gets the most choices to choose from for the first coupling lol), and they can smell joshua's good boy aura from a mile away. the first partner joshua gets is just super bestie vibes but as more and more of the girls get to know him, the more everyone starts to question if they want him instead. really, they’re just not used to men who properly listen to them the way he does (but yes, they still do want him instead). he makes a connection with a bombshell who makes it abundantly clear in her intro video that she’s going into the villa for joshua and only joshua ("it's time for me to let a real man love me, and i know those girls in the villa don't see what i do, but joshua? he is a real man."). she’s very forward with her intentions and being wanted so loudly is a really nice feeling for him. she gets tired of him being pulled for chats by every bombshell that comes after her bc they’ve all seen him on the show and know how sweet he really is. BUT! he stays true to his partner and he constantly recouples with her (he has the CUTEST recoupling speeches btw). both of them are on their best behavior during casa, and both of them are good sports about the other kissing islanders during challenges. she's upfront with every male bombshell that pulls her, informing them she’s Serious™️ about joshua and uninterested. he doesn’t do the same bc he’s kind of oblivious and thinks he’s just talking to new friends. but if girls ask him if he’s "open," he tells them hell fucking no (not verbatim bc he's too nice). they get chosen for the first outside villa date and they close things off. they're also the first couple chosen to go into the hideaway by the other islanders (no one fucks and tells but they glow differently hehe). a fan favorite to win!

jun

♫ intro song: filter - jimin

this man has never watched an episode of any version of love island in his entire life. he doesn’t know what it is, and he barely understands what’s happening. he was just scouted on social media and thought it would be a fun “for the plot” side quest. america votes that he should be the next bombshell and he arrives after a recoupling (his walk-in song is "move" by taemin). the girls who were left single and vulnerable are obviously over the goddamn moon (heh) and are all over him. girls who are coupled up are also all over him. unfortunately, bc he doesn’t know what’s happening or how any of this works, the asshole producers take advantage of that and tell him to steal a girl… from scoups (his toxic OG partner). he does and obviously causes insane levels of drama even though all he did was pull her for a chat. scoups starts by glaring at him and quickly graduates to yelling at him—telling him he’s being disrespectful, complaining that he should know they’re serious and shouldn’t have pulled her (“how would i know you’re serious…? i got here 5 minutes ago…” *entire villa has to hold scoups back*). so jun immediately wipes his hands clean of that, even avoiding the girls coupled up to chill guys or in friendship couplings who want to get to know him. nope! he sticks to talking to girls who aren’t coupled up at all. he’s DONE being a homewrecker!!! he makes breakfast for all the single girls, makes sure they all get chats from him so they’re not lonely, does whatever they wanna do—pingpong, working out, tanning, etc. basically, it’s giving… he adopted all of them...? he’s literally just being friendly esp bc he doesn’t want to even breathe around the coupled girls, but unbeknownst to him, the single girlies are all falling in love. they're fighting to be the one he couples up with, the girls he ignores are jealous he won’t even give them the time of day, and a few of the guys are kind of annoyed that all the attention is on the bombshell. jun ends up coupling with a girl he feels like is his best friend. she’s also the only one not constantly breathing down his neck so that's a nice plus. surprisingly, he ends up really liking her, and soon she’s the only one getting his breakfasts and playing pingpong with him. he doesn’t even realize how many hearts he broke, and america loves him for how oblivious and aloof he is about the entire process. he's literally just happy to be there and everyone is obsessed with that, including his partner. another fan favorite to win!

soonyoung

♫ intro song: lemon drop - ateez

an OG boy who serves himbo realness. he’s hot, he’s funny, and it seems like there isn’t a single thought in that beautiful head. after scoups, he’s a pretty popular pick for the first coupling, and he ends up choosing whoever he thinks is hottest. that fizzles out fast bc he finds her laugh a little grating and he’s simply too funny to be around someone whose laugh he doesn’t like. all is well, though, bc she finds herself more interested in someone else anyway. he quickly becomes the comic relief in the villa, the appointed class clown. there are so many screenshots of him on social media saying the funniest and/or dumbest things, and he becomes the most quotable islander in love island usa history. the downside is that he goes several days—maybe weeks—without any girls taking him seriously, and it annoys the fuck out of him bc hello!!! he’s hot??? and all any of them want from him are laughs?????? america notices this and votes for him to have a date with the next female bombshell. they hit it off, but when casa comes around, the house is full of girls who know soonyoung is hungry for some, ahem, proper attention and are too willing to give it to him. at the end of the day, he is still just a man. so he brings another girl back to the villa, and his original partner (who decided to remain single and wait for him) is devastated. so he in turn is also devastated (embarrassingly cries really hard in confessional, which makes it really hard for america to hate him). cue days of him not knowing what to do even though it’s clear his casa pairing is literally just based on lust. he just really doesn't want to hurt her even though he wants to be with his OG partner. but then the tweet challenge comes and someone gets “_____ is fr pissing me the fuck off bc why is he wasting his time with _____ when his soulmate is obviously _____!” they don’t even guess him as the answer, but when they read it aloud, he immediately thought of himself and his OG partner, and that was sign enough for him to come to his senses. he tells his casa pairing that he made a mistake and he’s so sorry but bye!!! then, he grovels for forgiveness from his OG partner. they ultimately recouple and make it to the finals without any other hiccups, though there's a lot of joking about this incident ("remember when you left me for a hoe you knew for two days." "no, actually, no i do not."). is that healthy? maybe not. but either way, these two are in luv.

📲: the audience is absolutely floored when they realize soonyoung is not a true himbo, as he is a successful surgeon. or lawyer. or engineer. you decide.

wonwoo

♫ intro song: bouncy - ateez

ohohohoho. imagine this. it’s the heart race challenge, and it’s not like this current season’s bs where they do it as a couple; NO, it’s solo! the girls are out at the fire pit, and the guys go give them lap dances one at a time, by themselves! when they’re done, they’re all brought up to the balcony and are confused about why they aren’t being brought back to the fire pit to join the girls. then, boom. "2 baddies" by nct starts playing and we see a porsche pulling into the driveway in slow-motion. two new male bombshells (whose faces we don’t see yet) get out of the car… in slow-mo. we watch them enter the villa in—you guessed it—slow-mo. we get zoomed in, slow-mo shots of golden tan skin. wide ass shoulders. abs. tiddies. ass. t-aychi-u-n-d-e-r thighs. the camera pans out and not only is wonwoo walking in (in slow-mo) but mingyu is too (also in slow-mo). they’re both dressed in slutty ass cop costumes. they’re smirking at each other in slow-mo. they’re high fiving in slow-mo. they’re winking at the camera in slow-mo. they’re looking over their shoulders in slow-mo. they’re just existing and being hot in slow-mo. you watch love island. you get it. they finally get back to normal speed. they’re introduced and immediately get to doing their thang on the girls, dancing and grinding and kissing and licking and swallowing faces—normal love island things. the guys are all watching from the balcony and screaming in agony (tiger-dressed soonyoung being the loudest ofc). after the game, the producers don’t let them change into regular clothes, so wonwoo is awkwardly trying to cover all his skin as he gets to know the girls. this man has his arms crossed, hands tucked into his armpits, forearms over his tits and covering his nipples. he hunches over when he sits to try and cover his abs and maybe draw less attention to his leather speedos. it’s not working at all. everyone is still ogling him. one girl tells him to hold on and when she gets back, she has a throw blanket. she hands it to him and he gratefully uses it to wrap around his shoulders. he blushes and quietly thanks her, and he’s touched by her observant nature. they talk about their families and interests; they realize they both like games. they talk for a long time, and when it’s time to go to bed, they clean up, meet back in the bedroom, and they sit on her bed and are still talking. the lights go out but they don’t let that stop them; these mfs keep yapping. everyone is begging them to shut up and go to sleep, so they finally relent, and wonwoo goes back to his own bed. from then on, they’re quite literally inseparable and they couple up at the earliest opportunity. these two + mingyu (since he and wonwoo immediately became bombshell besties) are america's three musketeers, constantly voted villa favorites for everything. whenever tiktoks are made of them, there's always at least one (but usually several) "may this kind of love find me EXPEDITIOUSLY" comment.

📲: many people ship the three musketeers as a throuple :)

woozi

♫ intro song: back for more - txt

our first casa boyyyyyyy hehe <3 the casa boys are ofc introduced in their swimming trunks and mans is obviously hot and hunky. his intro video is just as hot as he is, and the audience learns a few things: he had his heart broken a year ago and hasn't dated since, he came to love island mostly for shits and giggles, and his friends are convinced this is what he needs to do to move on. he shyly says he thinks his friends have a very different idea than he does of what moving on entails (they just want him to get his dick wet lmao), but he would prefer to make a genuine connection, though as a skeptic of reality television, he truthfully doesn't expect to. he's okay if all he does is make friends and have fun on a free vacation. a few of the girls from the villa are uninterested in exploring connections bc they have their partners already, but the rest of the girls are in the trenches, either heartbroken by a villa boy or overlooked by them. as woozi gets to know everyone, his attention is caught by a girl who's ofc super stunning but more than that, is soooo soft and funny and empathetic and kind, it leaves him sort of breathless… but she’s one of the girls already with a connection. she and her partner aren’t closed off yet and she expresses her interest in woozi, but she also makes it clear she’s really torn about it. she does bring him to the villa, but when she sees how gutted her partner is over it, it throws what she and woozi have going off track. she keeps flip-flopping between the two, and the only person woozi is interested in is her. america definitely ships them bc her OG partner is lowkey an asshole and constantly ogling and talking about other girls, but it’s america… voting can only do so much. so even though they try to vote them onto dates or vote her and her OG partner apart, she ultimately does not get the hint, and she chooses the other guy. woozi’s obviously hurt, but he tries to remind himself he was just here for the plot (he fails). everyone in the villa is sad to see him leave and it’s generally well-known among the islanders that everyone prefers woozi. but aur well. has a jalen type arc where he gets a million followers after exiting the villa LMAO

minghao

♫ intro song: invitation - junny feat. gaeko

another casa boyyyyyy <3 upon being introduced to the villa girls, his connection with one of them is immediate. they can’t stop glancing at each other, smiling, giggling. they basically want the host to stfu and leave so they can go chat already. when the host finally makes her exit, they practically make a beeline to each other but the producers are like uh uh uh! no! group chats first! he’s just giving them his signature minghao glare but that’s not gonna stop him. he shoves another casa boy out of the way to be able to sit next to her. he’ll ask questions and a girl will answer it and he’ll just be like “okay yeah whatever, what about you, though?” and he’ll turn his attention to his girl. lowkey rude? LOL but only in the name of LUV. when they finally do get time together, the sparks are flying and they’re attached at the hip. they’re sharing a bed at night, he’s making her breakfast, he’s holding tea ceremonies for her, she’s showing him how to do yoga, they love all the same music—it’s a match made in heaven!!! … until they get back to the villa. make no mistake, minghao’s partner is single as hell and one of the girls who was constantly overlooked and under-appreciated in the villa, but of course, one of the musty ass men who left her for the first bombshell that caught his attention sees her with minghao and immediately wants her back. NOT ON XU MF MINGHAO’S WATCH LMAO. this man is a menace. he’s making out with her in front of this guy. he’s waxing poetic about her when all the guys are making breakfast. he sees that the dude brought her breakfast before he did and he throws the idiot’s plate out and replaces it with his. in front of him. america is living for his behavior. haters call him possessive, the real ones know he’s just a fucking king!!! and his girl? head over heels in love. not even interested in that other dude, but if minghao wants to keep acting like that, who is she to stop him hehehe. booktok loves him.

mingyu

♫ intro song: chk chk boom - stray kids

kim mingyu starring as himbo islander #2 with a heart of gold. as you know, he comes in with wonwoo hehe. and man, this mf enjoys the attention. he’s chatting everyone up. the girls love him. THE GUYS love him. no one can hate this man bc he’s so funny and ditzy and charismatic. he probably goes a while just bouncing from girl to girl not bc he’s trying to but bc nothing just ever really clicks, and america just keeps saving him even though he’s made zero serious connections, but no one minds bc his vibes are immaculate and he’s very respectful and kind. but ofc, a bombshell comes in and he finally finds his match, and it’s probably bc she’s the only one so far that’s taken him seriously. she’s around for more than just how fun he is; she asks him thought-provoking questions and she sees how emotionally intelligent he is and even though she’s obsessed with the himbo vibes (bc she’s also kinda got the same thing going on), more than anything, she just really likes his personality. he tries to be open and not-at-all jealous about her exploring and talking to other guys, so she gives everyone a chance, but she figures out fairly early on she’s only interested in mingyu. unfortunately, they don’t last too long bc in an elimination where the girls vote a female islander off and the boys vote a male islander off, the girls vote mingyu’s partner off since she’s the newest and they just don’t know her as well. he doesn’t hesitate to leave with her, and ofc, it causes loads of drama bc everyone loves him, and all the guys get mad at all the girls lmfao. they give it a real shot out in the world and it works out. they’re in luv hehe <3

seokmin

♫ intro song: love hangover - jennie feat. dominic fike

same genre as jun in that he has no idea what’s happening on this mf island. his friends applied on his behalf as a joke and he got cast. he was brought to the island as a casa boy, and he’s confused about why they keep calling it the spanish word for house when they’re in fiji but he’s too shy to ask, especially bc everyone seems to have in-depth knowledge about everything that’s happening at all times. like, why does everyone keep talking about america like it’s a person in the room? why are people voting on unimportant things like this? why does everyone keep screaming about texts? he’s so lost and he’s trying so hard to hide it, just going with the flow. he’s talking to whoever wants to pull him for a chat, making people breakfast bc that’s apparently what he’s supposed to do, not swimming bc the girls look at him crazy when he asks if they want to. brought back to the villa in a friendship coupling that ends fairly fast when she finds someone she likes more romantically. jun probably notices how lost he is and explains as best he can (though he’s still a little confused himself), and he’s like, “wait, i can’t fall in love in a month, what???” but all the guys are obv like you’d be surprised!!! so he tries his best, chatting with single girls, trying to be their ideal type, basically kinda forcing connections but it’s clear he’s lowkey miserable about this bc he thought he was just coming here for fun (more like a jersey shore type show than a dating show). he lasts a while bc the islanders keep saving his cutieful, clueless ass, but he surprises everyone when during one recoupling, he pulls himself out of the game and decides he’s going home bc he’s homesick and he just wants to have fun with his homies again without having to eat a girl’s face every other day. he comes home to thousands of new followers and gets tons of sponsorship offers. he accepts one from the dodgers lmao. i honestly see him reconnecting with one of the girls on the show outside the villa and falling for her more naturally in a setting that isn’t essentially a fishbowl for everyone to watch and tap at.

seungkwan

♫ intro song: shoong! - taeyang feat. lisa

OG VILLA BOY! … and resident therapist. he most accurately represents america’s opinion on this show. if the viewers think someone’s shady, seungkwan is the first to clock it on the island. if the viewers find someone annoying, seungkwan makes it clear he does too. basically, the audience now relies on seungkwan to be the voice of reason in the villa. he’s consistently receiving the most votes, both as an individual and as a couple (he’s with another OG villa girl the entire time and honestly, america doesn’t think she serves enough cunt to be with him but they keep voting them best couple bc they love seungkwan so much). she lets that get to her head and becomes insufferable, so he very obviously tunes out of the coupling early on but doesn’t care to formally uncouple. mostly bc this man is billing HOURS talking every other islander through their incredibly suppressed feelings. he’s telling scoups he needs to fucking relax. he’s asking jeonghan if he received enough attention from his parents as a child. he helps hosh unpack his need to please everyone at his own detriment. he’s serving as a shoulder to cry on for all the girls. he’s telling them they deserve better even if some of them are crying about his own friends. you get the idea. he’s having fun for the most part bc hello, it’s still a free vacation, but he is getting increasingly fed up with being surrounded by grown ass people whose frontal lobes refuse to develop. his facial expressions and reactions become the most used memes of the season. so much so, people who don’t watch are using them and just being like “who’s this funny guy and who is torturing him enough to be making faces like this?” salvation comes in the form of a casa girl, who’s been watching his journey on the island and is ready to free him of his therapy shackles. and she does that by… giving him therapy. girly sits him down and is like, “hey, so let’s talk about why you only feel useful and worthy when you’re serving and helping others. why is that?” seungkwan is flabbergasted. and by the end of the convo, he’s crying a little, she knows him so intimately, it’s like they’ve known each other their whole lives, and he does feel liberated as house therapist. he recouples with her and actually starts to enjoy the island the way the others have—he’s making more time for his partner and for himself, he’s being honest when he doesn’t have the mental capacity to listen to ashleigh cry about chad for the nth time, and he’s genuinely falling for his match. unfortunately, their time comes to an end in one of those weirdly voted elimination rounds where no one has any true control of who goes home, and fan (and islander!) favorite seungkwan is booted off the island. a source later reveals that seungkwan got two hours to say goodbye instead of the usual 30 minutes bc everyone was so distraught about him leaving LOL. he gets dozens of invitations for interviews and he and his girl continue to explore each other out in the real world <3

vernon

♫ intro song: sexy nukim - balming tiger feat. RM (RM’s verse)

casa boy who is besties with fellow casa boy, seokmin. why? bc they’re both so confused about what’s happening. vernon catches on a lot faster but doesn’t explain to dokey bc he thinks it would just stress him out (and he was obviously correct). he, on the other hand, takes the information well, and goes along with these little chats, getting to know people and kissing a few girls who seem to want it here and there. but he’s also just like ┐(￣ヘ￣ )┌ about everything. he doesn’t realize he’s kind of in a relationship with someone until everyone’s cheering that they “closed things off,” and he’s perplexed about why everyone’s so happy he and his friend agreed they would stop kissing people bc honestly, these kissing games are gross and he’s getting the ick so bad (not at all realizing that he was agreeing to exclusivity with his partner. why does everything have to have a vague term??? if he wanted to be exclusive, he’d ask someone to be his girlfriend. if he wanted to express interest, he would just say it instead of asking someone to go to “soul ties” like WHAT???). so he’s uncomfortably exclusive, trying to figure out how to break it to this girl that he actually doesn’t want to be in a couple at all and that he truthfully had no idea what was happening in the conversation they had about this. as he thinks about it, he’s seen all over the villa by himself, deep in thought as he scribbles things in a notepad. when he finally sits with her, he admits that he doesn’t know what the following means:

closing things off - thought this was deciding i was done dating people here bc the kissing is tiring

soul ties - i don’t believe in soulmates but kinda crazy every single person in here does tho

soul ties is crazy - yeah i agree?

good chat - wym they have good chat? just say you like talking to them

pull for a chat - kinda rude we keep stealing people away. why can’t we all just talk as a group of friends

america - why do we care so much about america

his partner is dumbfounded and suffice to say, she immediately recouples, and while vernon isn’t eliminated, he’s left “vulnerable” (whatever that means), and he decides he’s done! he doesn’t want to be using his brain like this on vacation! one moment, he’s laughing with his friends and drinking, the next, it’s morning and the narrator says, “vernon has left the villa. he’s tired of having to refer to his personal glossary to understand what anyone’s saying.”

dino

♫ intro song: get a guitar - riize

our last OG villa boy! he, unlike many of his friends here on the island, is a love island expert. a love island fanboy even. he’s watched every season of every version, and he’s a true believer in the process (though he doesn’t have much data to support this actually works other than his self-proclaimed parents, leah and miguel but that’s honestly enough). this man is eager from the jump. he zeroes in on the girls that are his type, he’s having good chat, he’s delivering his best banter, he’s making bomb breakfasts, he’s bringing the girl he’s most interested in up to soul ties. he wants to be in love and he’s hustling for it! but unfortunately, he doesn’t realize that maybe he’s a little more in love with the idea of love than he is with anybody he meets or couples up with. still, he convinces himself he’s in love with every partner, then when they choose someone else, he’s heartbroken for a day before he’s bouncing back trying to find the next soulmate. seungkwan is in the trenches trying to calm the mood swings that come with this man’s intense heartbreak cycle (“have you ever stopped to wonder why you have such a desperate need for love?” “what no go away i’m heartbroken.”). even with no true connection, he’s kept around bc he’s wholesome and cute and sosososo fucking funny; he, hosh, and seungkwan are truly the comedic relief in the villa from the start. he’s saved vote after vote bc america is endeared by him. the show has a people’s princess and america’s sweetheart (leah and amaya papaya respectively—argue with the wall), and now they have america’s little brother: dino! unfortunately, he can only go so far without a solid relationship, but he’s probably the person who lasted the longest in love island history while single almost the entire time (he’s booted off the episode before the finale). worry not, this man comes home to many many women who are convinced they’re in love with him. he takes to the fame just fine.

sebong island playlist

host walk-in songs: ・ bad influence - svt (explicit!!!) ・ mantra - jennie ・ jungle - s.coups ・ sugar rush - bibi ・ guess - charli xcx feat. billie eilish ・ talking body - tove lo bombshell songs: ・ hot - svt ・ thunder - svt ・ good to me - svt ・ ash - svt ・ water - svt ・ march - svt argument/breakup songs: ・ i don't understand but i luv u - svt ・ happier than ever - billie eilish ・ yours - jin ・ toxic till the end - rosé ・ traitor - olivia rodrigo ・ somebody else - the 1975 voted out songs: ・ our dawn is hotter than day - svt ・ spring day - bts ・ sign of the times - harry styles ・ don't dream it's over - sixpence none the richer ・ come home - onerepublic ・ die trying - michl falling in luv songs: ・ fortunate change - joshua ・ home - svt ・ lights down low - max ・ stars in the sky - phora feat. jhene aiko ・ tokyo love hotel - rina sawayama ・ serendipity - jimin happy going-to-sleep songs: ・ what's good - svt ・ talk that talk - twice ・ endless summer symphony - kyle ・ i like you - post malone feat. doja cat ・ trivia: love - rm ・ sweet dreams - j-hope feat. miguel heart race challenge songs: ・ cheers - svt ・ house of cards - bts ・ neva play - megan thee stallion feat. rm ・ pop, lock & drop it - huey ・ my bag - idle ・ big booty - gucci mane feat. megan thee stallion winner announcement song: to you - svt

tag list: aka my love island watch partners that asked to be tagged LMAO @se0kied0key @jjknj

[bamboonick]

PUNISHMENT ــــــــﮩ٨ـ chris sturn 07.14 ₊ ୨ৎ

⚠︎ bratty!sub!chris, punishment kink, dry humping, orgasm denial, rule breaking and consequences, slight humiliation, name-calling, use of "mama", mild public tension.

you're mid-sentence, laughing at something your friend just said, when you feel it—chris's presence. again. fourth time he's come into the kitchen in twenty minutes, leaning against the counter like he belongs there, eyes skating over your frame while his fingers drum against the marble. he doesn't say anything at first, just waits for you to notice him, like some bratty little shadow. when you flick your gaze toward him, he smirks, slow and smug.

"what?" you ask flatly, trying not to break the rhythm of your conversation. "don't you have people to hang out with? go bother someone else."

he shrugs, like he's innocent. like he didn't nudge your side two minutes ago when he passed behind you to "grab a water." like he hasn't been staring at your mouth since he walked in.

"just bored," he mumbles, biting back a grin. "miss you."

you don't entertain it. wave him off without looking. "go be bored somewhere else, chris."

he doesn't move. lingers a little longer before finally dragging himself back toward the living room where your friend's boyfriend is. and it's fine—for about seven minutes. then he's back again. knuckles tapping against the counter, leaning forward so his breath almost grazes your shoulder. you ignore him, intentionally. keep talking to your friend, pretending he doesn't exist. but he's relentless—poking your waist, toeing at the back of your shoe, whispering little "hey's"under his breath like he wants to be scolded. like he's begging for it.

you set your drink down with a soft clink and finally turn to face him fully, voice low but sharp. "what, chris? what do you want from me?"

his lips part a little, and it's there in his eyes—flushed cheeks, blown pupils, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip before he speaks. "am i in trouble yet?"

you stare at him.

he swallows. "wanna be. wan' you to punish me. please, mama…"

it'a so soft. so needy. and that's all it takes.

you grab his wrist, nod a quick excuse to your friend, and tug him down the hall like a fucking leash. his steps are eager but quiet behind you, not a single protest. the guest bedroom door clicks shut and you spin on him, back pressing him to the wall with a heavy look.

"so desperate for attention you had to act like a fuckin' brat in front of everyone?" your voice is low, clipped. he nods, lips parting like he wants to say something but you're already kissing him, messy and mean. you bite his bottom lip and press your thigh between his legs—he ruts into it immediately.

you shove him toward the bed, straddle him without warning, your clothed cunt dragging over the bulge in his jeans. he moans, loud, and you slap a hand over his mouth.

"don't be loud. you don't get to be loud after all that."

he nods under your palm, hips still twitching up into you, chasing every bit of friction he can get. he's already hard. so hard. the kind of hard that tells you he's been waiting for this since the first time you brushed him off. the kind of hard that's been aching under his jeans since the first time you told him to fuck off.

you lean down, lips brushing his ear. "you don't cum. got it?"

he whines. whines.

you grind your hips against his, slow, punishing, enough to make his mouth fall open under your palm. you drag your body over him again and again, teasing pressure just right to keep him spiraling. his jeans are damp now—dark patch growing where his tip presses against the fabric, soaking through with every roll of your hips. his hands clench into the sheets, legs tense.

"please," he gasps when you let him breathe. "please, mama—feels so good, i can't—i won't, i promise, just need more, please…"

but you know him. he always breaks.

you pick up the pace, grinding down harder, rubbing against him just right, and he's losing it beneath you—whimpering, voice cracking, hips stuttering like he's already right there.

"you're gonna cum, aren't you?" you ask, all mock sympathy. “you're gonna cum in your fuckin' pants like a pathetic little brat."

"n-no, no, m'not—i'll be good—i'll be—"

he chokes on the moan. back arches. he grabs at your waist like it'll stop anything but you can feel it—the way he pulses through the denim, cumming hard, twitching and shaking underneath you. a wet, soaked mess in his jeans, just like you said. just like he wasn't supposed to.

you stay pressed to him, motionless now, letting the moment stretch. his face is flushed, hair messy against the pillow, chest rising and falling like he just ran a fucking marathon. his eyes flutter open slowly, dazed, and when he sees your expression, he swallows hard.

"…fuck," he breathes. then, softly—almost reverently—he whispers, "thank you."

a beat.

"needed that. needed you."

you don't answer. just roll off of him, leaving him to sit there in his own mess, cheeks pink, thighs trembling, ruined from the punishment he begged for.

𐔌 📑 ✧ ˚ · mimi talks `𓂃⊹ — #needthat #needhim.

taglist ;ଓ @japblogs @courta13 @sturnsblogs

[fadingdaggerr]

desperately need a part 4 to your agatha story!!!! i just reread and ugh it’s too good!!

sanguis reunitus

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

pairing: agatha harkness x gn!witch!reader

summary: a tether defies time; a song unites the lost | 6.9k

inclues: angst, an attempt of humor, angry exes agatha and r, beginning of the witches’ road, alice wu-gulliver my baby angel <3, nb death because i said so, somewhat of the first two trials (jen and alice's)

warnings: verbal fighting, talks of death, blood, descriptions of injury/scars, panic/anxiety attacks, guilt

note: okay okay i’m back in the writing groove apologies for my hiatus. N E ways i'd recommend listening to around u and promise by muna when reading this. that album alone has greatly inspired this story <3

August 1834

Humidity had taken over the land in the last month, every step feeling sticky and thick, air like molasses. Without a cloud in the sky, the sun shines harshly on anyone who dares step into the light. Dirt roads of dust cloud the path in every direction, the sound of wheels always accompanied by dry coughs.

Ducking into a tavern, you feel the heat fall off your body, never lingering long anyhow. With eyes down, you avoid the looks from locals as you make your way to the bar. Skin prickling from the attention, you try to block the attention with your arms. A glass lands harshly in front of you, a wordless barkeep refusing conversation. The message is clear, no strangers welcome. Condensation licks your fingers as you grab the cup, nodding a silent thanks that is ignored entirely. You chug, knowing that it can only be better to leave sooner. Dropping coins to the bar, you leave as quickly and as quietly as you arrived. Going unnoticed was a specialty that this town was immune to, the thought of staying only makes you more weary.

With faster steps than before, you walk towards the treeline, hoping to cut to a new road once you reach it. Somewhere more populated, you think, somewhere where I can be no one. The idea has no chance to linger before a cart comes barreling down the road. Before you can move over, the buttend of a shovel shoves into your shoulder, knocking you to the rough ground. Warmth spreads over your knee, red seeping the light fabric.

“Get on out of here!” The man from the cart yells as he gets further away. “We don’t need more of your kind spreading sin!”

A pout falls to your lips without thinking, a scraped hand brushing over your ribs gently before planting to the ground to hoist yourself up. With a hobble in your step, you trudge to the treeline, leg dragging slightly.

Leaning against an old maple, you pull back your clothing to reveal your leg. Next to a faint scar on your knee, a red and crying cut, small but deep. Rolling your eyes and muttering, you press your thumb to the wound, wincing as the pad of your thumb meets the inner wound. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let the magick flow through you, feeling skin and tissue pull back together in a slow fire beneath your fingertips. Pulling away slowly, the only evidence left behind is blood staining your hands and a new, raw scar.

A short gasp to the left makes you turn, hand grasping at the knife on your hip. Unblinkingly, you approach the tree you hear movement behind, steps silent and weapon ready. 

“You have three seconds to show yourself,” you warn, voice tight. With a squeak, a young woman, no more than nineteen, presents herself, pink dress stained and torn.

“I mean no harm,” her voice is quiet, shaking with fear as her eyes dart between your own and the knife in your grasp.

“And yet you follow me, why?”

She tries to take a step forward, but is stopped by your eyebrows rising and grip tightening. Blinking fast, she sputters, “I’m like you! I swear! I’m a witch, too.”

“You should be more careful about who you share that information with,” you state plainly. Carefully, you lower the blade, sheathing it once more, but keeping your hand on it.

The girl visibly relaxes, “you should be more careful about where you use your magick.” Nodding in defeat, you drop your guard more. Leaning against the tree, you slide to sit on the ground. Patting the spot beside you, your new companion joins, fingers twirling a sun pendant on her necklace. She clears her throat, “I’m Simone, by the way. Potions.”

You give her your name, but give her nothing more. Too young to be trusted with her own secrets. With a sigh, you ask, “how long have you been following me?”

Simone chuckles, “a week. The herbs you were grabbing, they were familiar. I figured you were my best chance.”

“Chance at what?” You ask with surprise. Surprise at her determining your powers, at following unnoticed until now.

“You’ll probably think it’s silly, but,” she sighs heavily, “I’m looking for the Witches’ Road.”

Your body goes cold at her words, ears ringing with a thousand voices. Ones you had heard so many times for nearly a century. A tune hummed under the breath of passing strangers, ones who hoped another would recognize it and help. Sang in effort to find their own kind. Searched in hopes for their destiny. Every note was torture, the melody a hot iron.

At your silence, Simone’s brows upturn, hand grasping your shoulder. Her lips move, but no sound reaches your ears. Eyes darting from place to place, your mind is in shambles, mouth moving to find words that escape you. The girl moves in front of you, both hands on your shoulders now, trying to stay in your line of sight to help you. With exaggerated breaths, she urges you to copy her. Slowly, you feel the tether holding you to your body return, trembling beginning to cease.

A limp hand rises, falling to Simone’s wrist, grip suddenly strong. Looking up through your lashes, you speak through gritted teeth, “why on Earth would you look for the Road?”

Grey eyes blink quickly at your question, “to complete what my grandmother set out to do. She never came back, neither did my mother. I have to do it, for them.”

“So you’ll kill yourself in their honor?” You shake your head, “find another way, any other way.”

“What do you know? You have no coven, clearly never have,” Simone states, ripping her hands from you and standing. “My grandmother went on the road to better us, to save us.”

“Seems she was mistaken,” you gruff, standing, albeit shakily, “because now you’re just like me, covenless. The Road is death, nothing more than a trick.”

“My grandmother did not make mistakes,” Simone’s hands clench into fists, taking a step back from you.

You roll your eyes, “and just who was this all knowing woman?”

“Marjorie Bennet,” she says quietly. “She was the lone survivor of her coven in 1749.” Was this a cruel joke? “Spent the rest of the year trying to find a new one before she had my mother, but witches were dying by the dozens.” Stop. “She finally found some, and she was determined to keep them safe this go around.” Please, stop. “And then she heard this song, about the road. All the glory and power it could give you.” I’m so sorry. “But she never came back. And once I was old enough, my mother went too.” Blame me, you must. “So now, it's my turn.” No. “And if you won’t help me, then there is nothing left to talk about.”

You stand there as she walks away, frozen in a guilt that you had refused to acknowledge for all these years, watching as she disappears into the trees, pink fading away into green. Not so much as a bag or coat, only her determination and necklace to keep her company. A child wandering, to nowhere and no one in particular.

Misery follows one who searches.

October 2026

“Why are we at a hospital? I thought we already had a blood witch.”

“Different type of blood, buster. There’s lineage blood and blood-blood. This one’s a dud though, we’re wasting our time.”

The boy sighs as he takes the key out of the ignition, “Dud or not, we need witches. But if I get sacrificed, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

“Right back at you. Go get’em, tiger.”

A dismissive wave from the woman puts him into gear, slamming the car door as he goes. The other three had already been disgruntled at her arrival, so maybe it was best if he did the talking this time. At least some civility and manners would be a part of the conversation.

Walking through the automatic doors, he is met with the sights and sound of the emergency department. Approaching the desk, he holds his head to feign injury. The nurse at the desk tries to get his name, but he refuses it, repeating that he fell until they relent. With poorly hidden, rolling eyes, the woman walks back. The boy stands there, trying to stay in character despite his nerves. Thoughts of leaving are dismissed, we need witches.

The door where the nurse disappeared behind opens again, this time someone with a smile and white coat. With a wave forward, he follows hesitantly. He follows the doctor down the hall, to a small room. Sitting on the bed, he watches carefully, trying to deduce if this is who he is looking for. But something feels so familiar about the presence, like he had met you before.

Clearing your throat, you sit on the rolling stool, “Sarah told me you fell and hit your head?” He nods. “Did you lose consciousness?” He shakes his head. “Well that’s a good thing. When did this happen?”

“Last night,” he mumbles, “I was trying to- uh- get off the roof?” Nodding with a suppressed smile, you reach for the stethoscope around your neck.

“You got a name? Because John Doe doesn’t seem like it suits you,” you muse as you adjust the scope to your ears. The boy’s mouth opens to answer, but he shuts it, shaking his head. “That’s alright, John it is. I’m just gonna listen in, okay?” He nods quickly, guilty at lying to someone who is being so kind.

The chestpiece presses to his skin, cool to the touch, but he doesn’t flinch. Peering over at you, he sees your eyes widen ever-so-lightly, clearly suppressing a reaction. The metal moves to another spot on his back, then another, then another. Shit, do I have a murmur? Moving to his front, you pull the monitor over. A freezing hand carefully grabs his, making him jump, watching as you place a node on his finger. The machine beats in time with his heart, fast but fine. No murmur.

“Okay,” you sigh, a weary tone bleeding through. Standing, you motion to his head, silently asking to check. He lets you, feeling gentle fingers part his curls in search of visible injury. Closing your eyes, you try to feel if there’s anything. Blood pooling, a hemorrhage, a splinter, something, anything. But there is nothing. No blood moving, no heartbeat, just silence.

It is as if you are trying to read the life of stone.

Stepping back from the boy, dread crawls up your spine. Swiping a hand across your face, you walk towards the door, ready to tell him to wait, but a force stops you in your tracks. Rhythmic thumps pound in your ears, steady, strong. So familiar, so close. Every beat makes you step back, placing yourself in front of the boy sitting eerily quiet behind you. Footsteps join the thrumming, inching closer and closer as venom rolls through your veins. As quickly as they started, the steps slowed to a halt, a body leaning against the doorway.

As she was. And here she is, beautiful as ever. Eyes of angelite, cold but inviting to look into, stare you down with a look you cannot figure out. Was it shock? Anger? Disbelief? Disguised terror? Was it everything you were feeling just being in her presence for the first time in nearly three hundred years? Your head whips to look at the boy, then back to her.

“What are you doing here?” You ask angrily, stretching an arm out to put more of yourself between them.

Her hand rises to her chest, a mock-shock on her features, “why I’m just ensuring my sweet, young friend here is getting the medical attention he deserves!”

You look back at the boy, “you know her?”

“Yes, but she was supposed to stay in the car,” he grits with a pointed look before turning back to you. “We- well I- wanted to talk to you. About the Witches’ Road.”

Your blood boils, grabbing Agatha’s wrist to tug her in the room, shutting the door. Throwing her against the wall, you hold her there with an arm braced over her chest. “What the fuck is your problem? You bring a child here, a child to me, and expect me to help you with this again? You must be desperate if you’re playing this game with me.” You tug up her hand to view, “leave for power, crawl back for power. It’s always the same with you.”

Agatha’s eyes widen, mouth gaping as she stares, skin absorbing the chill that radiates from you. The sight before her draws her back into her mind, lifetimes before.

Languid and bubbly, you swerve through the crowd, dodging every body that gets in your way. Your eyes are set on their mission, even if your feet drag with inebriation. An accidental shove pushes you the rest of the way, falling into the target of your affection.

Your arms curl into your chest, trapped between you and the woman in front of you. Fluttering eyes go wide in surprise before creasing at the corners, you grin stretching across your face. Strong hands hold onto you, fingers gently clutching the linen of your shirt. With an airy laugh, you drag your nose up her neck, burying it against her cheek.

“Someone’s happy,” Agatha purrs, voice thick with adoration.

You sigh contentedly against her skin, “when with you.”

The memory fades as quickly as it appeared, making Agatha shake her head. Shoving you off, she rubs her wrist, “like you’re wholly innocent, playing doctor to make up for everything you did willingly.”

“At least I’m trying! Unlike you who brings a- what- fourteen year old to me as a guilt trip?”

“I’m sixteen.”

“Oh, even better! So you’re delusional as well, what a joy!” The hardened sarcasm in your tone makes the teenager cringe, peering to his companion. Agatha’s eyes dim at your words, arms crossing. “Fuck you and your road. For you or it, I have nothing left to give.”

With a sharp turn, Agatha leaves, only calling out, “I told you, a dud! Let’s go!”

The boy scrambles, grabbing his things. He frantically speaks to you, though he sounds underwater, “I’m so sorry I lied to you. I am. But here is Agatha’s address, we’re meeting there tonight. If you don’t come, I get it. But I would really like it if you did.”

You faintly hear him calling after her. Just as faintly as her heartbeat fades out of range.

—⛤—

The moment the clock strikes seven, you are practically running from the building to your car. Chicken scratch handwriting gives you an address in Westview, barely a few miles away from Eastview General. Speeding through town, you find what has to be Agatha’s house, doorless with a gutter hanging down. Clambering out of the car, you walk quickly to the collapsed door. Five heartbeats fill the room, six if you count the unheard one you know is in there. Crossing the threshold, you immediately feel attention on you.

“You’re here!” Teen, as Agatha called him, announces. Running up to you, he grabs your elbow, dragging you closer to the group. Pointedly, you try to avoid the blue eyes boring into you, scanning and evaluating everything you do. “This is Lilia and Jen and Alice and Mrs. Ha- Sharon.”

You give them a nod, feeling Teen release his grip on you, trusting you won’t run. Quietly, you introduce yourself, eyes flitting around the room.

“Jen,” says the woman in a pink dress, “potions.”

You nod slowly, muttering, “blood.” The three women take a unified small step back. You hold your hands up, “don’t worry, not like that. Well, yeah like that, but I don’t do all the…”

“Sacrificing and puppetting?” Lilia provides.

“Yeah, that,” you mumble, pursing your lips.

“Anymore,” says a sing-song voice behind you, forcing the other women to abandon you to speak with her alone. Agatha circles you, standing too close, stopping inches from your face, “so you showed up. Should I be flattered?”

Your brow cocks, “I’m not here for you. Or these bozos that should know better than you trust you.”

“Oh, do tell. What is your divine reason to wallow here tonight?”

“You know just as well as I. I will not let this happen again,” you try to be stern. But as much as you hate it, Agatha knows you. You can feel she knows. And yet she continues.

Stepping back from you, you watch Agatha’s face go from a hidden solemn to excitement, hands wild as she talks.

The other four follow her to the basement, telling Teen to stay behind. Begrudgingly he does, but Alice looks at you questioningly. Standing still only prompts her to wave you closer. You look back to Teen.

“It won’t work without you. Blood and tears and bone, right?” Alice speaks from the doorway. It won’t work at all, you want to say. “C’mon, it’s choir time.”

Slowly, you descend rickety steps into the basement. You plant yourself between Alice and Sharon, not allowing yourself anywhere near Agatha. Clasping each woman’s hand, you feel them shiver at your touch, but neither lets go.

Agatha starts the song, looking at each person intently as she sings, but you feel her eyes linger on you as she goes. Together, you sing the ballad, though each word burns as it passes your lips. A tear falls down Alice’s cheek and you have to wonder if she knows it’s her last. Does Lilia know these are the last notes she will sing? That this is the last dress Jen will wear? That Sharon is about to witness a quadruple homicide while a teenage boy sits upstairs?

Your skin prickles as the lyrics catch up to you, eyes flicking up to meet blue eyes as the words fall from her lips. Blood and tears and bone, maiden mother crone.

The song ends, everyone glancing around for a door, but you can only look at Agatha. This is it. Voices rise as they begin to argue, Lilia taking the front of it to protect the younger witches. Stepping back, your hands instinctively rise to cover your ears. If I can’t hear them stop, it’ll be okay, you think over and over again. But the beating persists. Thumping in time with rampaging above you, in time with frantic feet running down the stairs.

“Is this it? Is this the road? Because if so, we gotta go!” Teen yells as the group cracks open a door that appeared on the floor. “Now!”

Your gaze rips from the ground to him, then where he came from. One of the Seven crawls down the stairs as everyone starts to run underground. Scrambling, you follow, trying to keep your eyes on Alice once you lose the boy.

—⛤—

Never in your life had you felt so out of place. Centuries of hiding and creeping in shadows hadn’t left you this unprepared. White rugs, white couch, white walls, Jen’s trial was too luxurious for the life you have lived. The wine bitter, it’s after effect painful, perhaps this was what normality was like. All except the timer slowly counting down.

In this uppity mirage, finding the eye of newt was starting to make you go insane. Matcha powder, organic dried basil, almond flour, hemp hearts, none of this was ringing a bell, but is all very Jen. The edges of your vision were slowly getting hazy with focus, green creeping into the corners. Knees buckling beneath you, your hands desperately grasp at the countertop to hold yourself up, a haunting tone ringing through your ears.

Vile creature, it taunts, your time of corrupting innocents is done. The voice morphs, one becoming a unified many, you have this one life, no other will be tolerated. Your body burns with memories you had shoved away the moment you left them, hot tears prick at your eyes, sizzling against cool skin. All the pain sinks into the same spot, the raised, ragged skin on your side, hot and sharp and suddenly gone. Air floods your lungs, heavy as you pant, fingers losing their grip on the marble as you slide to the floor. Your back slams into the cupboards, rattling the spice rack until a bottle hits the floor and rolls towards you. Mustard seeds. It was god damn mustard seeds.

With a hearty struggle, you get back onto your feet, weakened and getting weaker as the Aleswife Revenge works its way through you. There had only been two times in your long life you had felt this awful, your powers uniquely suited to keep you from illness and death, but not enough to keep away the rushing pains. Supporting yourself against the counter, you practically throw the mustard seed at Jen, Teen and Alice doing the same with their frankincense.

With your part over, you focus on pushing the phantom and tangible pains away, a shaking hand pressed heavily to your ribs. Lilia and Agatha reunite with the rest of you, dropping Jen’s so-called organic products in, though the sarcasm in the divination witch’s face was not matched by her search partner. Instead, eyes of lapis watch you intently, ghosting over where your hand lies in a place you pretend to forget. She had seen the fear and anguish in Lilia’s eyes when her hallucination grabbed her suddenly, frantic Sicilian flying from her. Stories of the Sicilian coven were famous, from their beginning to their terrible end, she could imagine the contents of her terrors. But you, you were a mystery to her, never passing off your pain to her, only hiding it away for yourself.

The chaos of the potion creation was surely going to end horribly, of that you were sure. No one could bear to listen to one another, or speak without cattiness. Your eyes rove around to find something worth your attention for reprieve, but instead they find the woman across from you. Eyes widening, mouth turning down. You follow Agatha’s eyes to an empty spot in the room. Tears well in her eyes, a trembling hand rising to cover her mouth as she squats before her illusion. Your fingers twitch, wanting to reach for her, pull her back, but you deny yourself. A cracking sob passes her lips, her voice thick with tears as she murmurs, “no, no, no.”

“Agatha!” You call to her, but she’s lost in it. “Agatha!” You try again, this time seeing her whip around to look at you. The fear and sadness is cloaked within seconds, disdain and nonchalance back in place.

Refusing to take your eyes off her, you focus in on the slight crease between her brows. Forcing herself to look angry is better than appearing upset, at least in her eyes. She had played that card so many times with you, but for better or for worse, you know her. Know her tells, know her thoughts, she cannot hide from you any better than you can from her.

A shotty spell, a forgotten woman, an oven to crawl in. The road sucks, fake or not.

The mystery of this place is exhausting. The mystery of your company even more so. Women you’d only ever heard of, years of legacy behind each of their names, each of their crafts. And a boy. With a sigil hiding his existence and life from each of you, a walking question mark trailing beside you. Every step against fallen leaves makes your heart race. This place is not real, should not be real. It was a bedtime story turned song turned ruse. And now it was claiming lives without even trying.

“Jen, what do we do?” Lilia exclaims, staring down at Sharon’s body, pale and slowly going cold. “You can fix this right?”

“Fix dead? What do I look like, a necromancer?”

The moment the words leave her mouth, every set of eyes lands on you, your skin tingling. You look at them, the hopeful gleam in their eyes, desperation moreso. Glancing back down at your nails, you mutter, “I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Jen huffs, arms crossing against her chest, “I cannot be the only one in this motley crew with a modicum of power.”

“Unless you wanna take her place, there’s nothing I can do,” you state roughly. “We should bury her and get on our way. Staying still isn’t doing us any good.” No one volunteers, no one argues.

Alice and Teen take the job of creating a grave for Sharon by the treeline, small yellow flowers poking up from the roots, greeting her like an old friend. You stay on your perch on a rock, knees tucked against your chest, watching everything and nothing at the same time. Prickling crawls up your arm, feeling shades of blue scanning over your skin. Tugging the sleeves of your shirt over your hands, you wrap your arms tighter around your legs.

“Did you know she traded her own child for the book of the damned?”

“That can’t be true.”

“She probably wouldn’t even recognize her own child if he showed up on her doorstep.”

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t. She wouldn’t. He was the only thing that tethered her to this world. That tethered you to life. A book, that book, would never have been worth his soul.

You can hear the others talking, fighting really, but you pay little mind. Every thought in your head races as you try to understand what is happening around you. Agatha seemed just as thrown off as you did, at least from what she allowed to bleed through when she thought no one was looking. Yet she carried herself as if this was the plan, like she knew what was happening even when she didn’t. Typical, and what used to be endearing.

“No one’s gonna mention the elephant in the room?”

“God, Jen. Ten minutes of silence, is that too much to ask?”

“Shove it, Harkness. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re out a green witch, not that we actually had one in the first place,” the potions witch seethes. “You’re doing a fantastic job at getting us all killed, you included.”

The moment they mentioned a summoning spell, you were ready to trade yourself for Sharon. Brushing back leaves into the shape of a person, you watch Agatha place candles around, purposefully ignoring your gaze. Figures.

May she be strong and wise and the best at her craft. May she be smart and not annoying, and also not super political. May she be pleasant looking. Can she bring some Advil. May she fortify us.

All is silent and still, until an arm rips through the ground. And then another. Your hand shoots out, dragging Teen behind you, locking him there. Your other hand instinctively reaches out, brushing over indigo fabric before pulling back, balling into a fist at your side instead. The figure finally fully reveals themself, dusted and dirty and too familiar for comfort. In an instant, you flee from sight, ducking behind Alice, hand still gripping Teen’s arm.

Dark eyes, maniacal and quick, scan the group of you, fear looking them back. Agatha stands firm in her place, arms spread to cover the coven. The second the green witch looks at her, Agatha seems ready to attack.

“Oh, don’t act so upset, my lady. You invited me to your cute little party,” Death’s voice is singular, too human for you to handle. Teen rips free from your grip, tripping over himself to stand beside Agatha. His sudden movement jerked you from your hiding spot, easily in view of the newest being. “And you,” they say coolly, pointing a sharp nail in your direction, “didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon.”

“Wasn’t my desire,” you murmur, paralyzed. Their hum of understanding does nothing to ease your fear.

In a sudden motion, Agatha’s fingers become claws as she throws herself towards Death with rage in her voice, taking Alice and Jen to hold her back. Giving up, she breaks herself from their hold, spinning to get as much distance between her and them as possible. Your feet carry you quickly, only a few paces behind her as you attempt the same.

Static fills your ears, green fading your vision as you catch blips of a wooden cabin, a skeletal face, a tacky red pool at your feet. The air feels thicker with each breath, every little scar on your body burning. Each step feels like you are stumbling through the woods. An arm curls around your shoulders, another gripping your arm, voices muffled by the blood rushes through your ears. Your eyes dart around, falling to blue ones that stare back, a suppressed worry taking shape behind a wall of stoicism. Agatha’s mouth opens, but her voice dies at the dread written on your face.

Squirming, you release yourself from the grasp Alice has on you, ignoring her concerned questioning. All you can hear is the taunting skipping that Death Rio continues with, feeling their presence closer and closer by the second. The protection witch stays at your side, watching your back as you keep your eyes glued ahead of you. The pink leaves fade into orange, another trial creeping up just as you leave the previous one behind.

—⛤—

As your group continues down the road, a clearing opens up, a wooden house with stained glass appearing in the distance. The moment it does, the woman beside you stops in her place, the fear on your face now worn on hers. Her rejection of it makes you nervous, someone so confident brought down by a house. You wish you didn’t understand.

But the road insists, and thus the house takes you into its warm colors and ornate decor. The turtleneck and slacks you had been wearing morphed into a barely buttoned, satin shirt, bell bottoms grazing the floor with each step. Desperately tugging, you try to roll your sleeves back down, but the shirt resists, magick not allowing you a moment of solace. You wrap your arms around yourself, eyes flicking around the group.

Agatha’s flowing, sparkling shirt draws your attention as you watch her in the mirror over her shoulder. Her eyes pull from herself to you, all bravado left behind as she looks at you properly for the first time since she saw you in that examination room. Scanning you from her spot, she eyes the expanse of your forearms, taking a deep breath at the sheer number of scars that litter once pristine skin. She remembers the one from a gardening accident when you were twelve, now she is not sure where your skin ends and scar tissue begins. Blinking quickly, you brush away her searing attention, stepping back, but her eyes stay, brows turning up imperceptibly.

Following you to the sound booth, she lets herself sit closer to you than she thinks you’d allow if you weren’t so out of it. Fiddling with the fringe on her sleeve, Agatha asks, “so you know Rio?”

“Know is a strong word. Encountered is probably better,” you say, picking at your nails. “But you, you know them, huh?”

“Work buddies,” Agatha jokes. “They're not the worst coworker ever…”

You chuckle, finally looking at her properly, “you mean they have competition now?” Her nose scrunches as she laughs inwardly, unconsciously shifting closer. “How’d we get here, Agatha? What is this? And that boy?”

“If I only knew,” she sighs, hands reaching out to where yours rests on your knee. Pulling your arm across her lap, her fingers ghost over scars, almost afraid to touch them as if they are still fresh. “It wasn’t my plan, obviously. But, it could still work,” her voice sounds uncertain. “What have you done to yourself? All of these?”

Moonlight pools on the floor through the crack in the curtains, painting the room in a soft glow that doesn’t quite reach the bed. Soft, swirling fingers trail up and down your skin, nonsensical patterns mixing with intentional tracing.

“You ought to use a poultice,” Agatha says. As much as she loves tracing every mark, she wishes they did not mean you had been harmed.

“Where’s the fun in that though?” You chuckle, fingers gently scratching her scalp.

Her nose bumps your throat as she chuckles into you, “wouldn’t you love not having a reminder of the claws on that witch?”

You snort, pulling her closer against you, “I just pretend it was from a wildcat attack. Plus I greatly enjoyed what happened after, I’m happy with a reminder of that.”

Agatha smiles at the memory, skin against skin, wandering hands fast and desperate. Her lips press to your throat, lingering there before nipping at your skin. Her insistence makes you grin, arms hauling her on top of you. Sitting up, her hands plant themselves on your chest, hovering herself over your face, “when you put it like that…”

You retract your arm from her grasp, feeling her fingers linger against your skin as you do. Folding your arms against your chest, you lean back in your chair, “nothing you haven’t seen before. It’s fine.”

“Right…” Agatha resigns, knowing you will not tell her anything. You never did and never will. It’s Teen’s shout from the main room that draws her attention from her thoughts, and you are already beside him by the time she tries to look back at you.

—⛤—

A ballad of a different form and a fire of flesh, some burns and broken glass, but the trial is over. Alice stands panting as she stares at the ash around her, tears sticking to her cheeks. The group, even Rio somehow, looks relieved with the demon gone and the curse undone.

“Yay,” Teen says breathily, all heads turning to his weakened state, “we did it.”

As his body topples to the floor, both you and Agatha dive to catch him, his head cradled in your lap. Shuffling frantically, the group gets through the exit, carefully trying to get the boy through without hurting him more. Lifting him onto a large tree stump, everyone desperate to figure out what happened. Your hand stays plastered over the wound, tinging your skin red. It’s deep, and the passing thought that it could kill him only scares you more. His heartbeat thrums under your fingers, finally reaching you with now open skin. You almost gag, feeling it fading by the second.

Agatha grabs your arm, “do something! Take it!”

“If I take it, we’ll be in the same position we are now,” you say, just short of yelling. Eyes jumping from place to place, you try to remember anything you have learned that could help. All you know would kill someone. Teen, yourself, whoever offered themself in his place. All roads will lead to it, to them. Your eyes flick to Rio, who is unblinking in their attention on Teen, and all you can do is angle your body to block their gaze.

“He’s young, he’s strong,” Lilia offers in response to Agatha’s growing distress.

“Don’t!” She growls before looking at Rio, voice now softer, “don’t.”

“Jen, you have to do something here. Please!” You cry out, maintaining pressure on Teen despite the spill between your fingers. All your effort stays in telling his blood where to be, not allowing it to go anywhere else. “Jen!”

The potions witch looks at you, eyes searching yours like you know the answer. They widen, “I need water and moonlight!”

Pulling back from Teen, you let Jen work. A magnetic pull brings you closer to Agatha, almost hiding against her, but unable to pry your eyes away as Jen chants vulnus ab aqua curare. Lilia’s voice echoes as she watches Agatha, “three of swords.” Her eyes shift to you, “reversed.”

All of it and none of it matters, nothing until you see the wound on Teen’s abdomen close, the blood on his skin the only remnant. Not even a scar. Your hands flatten over his hair, subconsciously trying to feel his pulse, but it’s hidden from you once more. Refusing to let you tears fall on him, you let Agatha and Alice move him to a place to rest while you try to start a fire.

As the flames grow, so does the conversation, everyone less freaked out by one another and sharing a life threatening experience. It starts small, like how you all ended up in the same three mile radius. And it grows to powers, special abilities, little tricks. But Lilia, with all her life behind her, starts with her so-called war stories. A vampire’s failed bite, a lover’s poor attempt on her life, it all blends together into happy memories for the divination witch.

Rounding the corner from Teen’s resting spot, Agatha plants herself next to you, barely a foot between you.

“What about you, Agatha? Any battle scars?” Jen asks playfully.

With a sly chuckle, Agatha rolls up her sleeve, making Rio suppress a laugh. A long scar trails up her forearm, clean and faded, “ever heard of the Daughters of Liberty?” A unified shaking of heads. “Exactly,” she says, making the group laugh.

“And you, human punching bag? Bet you couldn’t name a single one, huh?” Alice jokes, gesturing to the marks riddling you from the neck down.

“Most of them, no. The big ones though, I’ve got some idea,” you huff out with a laugh.

“Bullshit,” Agatha says. “You never know.” How you wish you didn’t see Jen and Alice go wide-eyed and look at each other at the statement.

“I do,” you say. “Like, uh…” You roll up your pant leg to reveal a scar from your knee to ankle, thicker than the ones surrounding it. “This one. Didn’t think people still casually carried swords around in the 1940s but, I guess I was wrong.” Agatha’s eyes stay on the small scar on your knee, faded but visible, one of the oldest. The others motion for you to continue, captivated. Untucking your shirt, you lift it to reveal a jagged circle above your belly button, “undertaker thought I was a vampire.”

The edge of another scar, right at your ribs shows for just a second, undetected by the others as they stare, but not Agatha. The moment you had first spoken, she had been locked on to you. Scanning each scar, wanting to point and ask about every single one. Ones she recognized, ones she saw form firsthand, ones taken from her with ease, one she wished she knew the story of.

Nausea crawls up her throat as her mind spirals. Standing abruptly, Agatha moves away from line of sight, thumbnail anxiously being chewed. The loss of her beside you makes you reel, gaze following her until you can’t anymore, so your legs take over. Quickly, you find her, back facing you with tense shoulders.

“Agatha,” you whisper, only inches away. “Look at me.”

A deep breath passes her lips, eyes on the ground as she turns to face you. Carefully, you place your hands on her arms, ducking to find her gaze and bring it up. Her own hand rises, falling to your side, thumb brushing over that same spot it always gravitated towards.

“Where is this from?” She whispers, so close you can feel her words.

One hand slides up, holding her neck, “it’s better unsaid.”

“So we’ll never talk about it, any of it? Because it’s hard for you?”

You thumb strokes her jaw, “it’s not me that I’m quiet for.”

At your words, her eyes flutter shut, leaning closer to rest her forehead against your cheek. You feel her sigh fan across your skin, revelling in a feeling you never thought you would have again.

“I can’t hear him, the kid,” you admit, “the sigil blocks even his heart. But, when he was open, it was all right there. Beating, breathing, alive.” The words are like paste in your mouth. “But then he closed up, and it was silent again. This whole place is silent, it’s awful.”

Agatha pulls away from your cheek, eyes watery as she looks at you. The closest she has been in almost three hundred years, eyes blue as ever, freckles still painting her skin, a rogue curl by her temple that twirls the opposite way from the rest. All the same yet so different, but here she is. In the moonlight, she belongs to you again.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, lips just barely ghosting over yours.

“It’s not him,” you croak into the small space between you. “I felt him live, I felt him die, and whoever- whatever- that is, it’s not him.”

Agatha pulls back from you, glassy eyes scan over you. The sadness, the borderline wonder, drains entirely. Ice sets to stone as she hums, arms crossing over her body. Turning, she says no more, sends not a single glance your way, and leaves you there.

A fat tear falls from your eye onto the purple leaves at your feet, the red veins soaking it in. The long dormant burn at your side erupts slowly, forcing you to lean your back against the tree behind you. Your face stings with venomous tears, years of suppression pouring from you as your hands flex, trying to grab someone who isn’t there and never was.

title translation: sanguis reunitus, latin - the blood reunited

note: i know i know, she doesn't know about the scar yet. buuuuuut that will be in the next part, should you guys want me to continue this

extra note: i really do appreciate the patience on my lack of posting. i have had horrible writers block and cannot for the life of me figure out what to do with some requests, but this definitely helped get me back into it, so i will be HOPEFULLY posting some melissa content soon. thank u i love u, yes specifically you

[all-pacas]

fun fact:

chase and house don't have a single conversation (that isn't part of a larger differential or with others present) until episode five of s1. before that point, we've had:

house telling cameron why he hired her

house trying to figure out cameron's damage twice, most pointedly in maternity

house and foreman having lunch together

house making foreman coffee and several other blatant scenes

cameron and house having a weirdly charged exchange of christmas presents

house and cuddy bickering and bantering in every episode, with wilson even raising the prospect of Romantic Interest as a possible reason

house and wilson hanging out in house's office, spending time together, usual stuff

cameron and foreman talking about house and criminal records and chase

cameron and chase flirting/sexual harassing one another/etc.

cameron and wilson's relationship being established, with wilson attempting to mentor her (and calling her allison, which is still very weird).

house bonding with two patients (counting the one in episode five)

furthermore:

when house has reached out to cameron (episode 1 and 4), and foreman (episode 1 and 2 and 3), he has followed his usual pattern. he has noticed something he finds odd and he starts poking at it. why are you damaged? why do you think the way you do? he wants answers, he is interested in figuring this out, even if he ends up being rude.

in the conversation with chase, the first ever, house mocks him for being an obedient catholic boy who does what daddy tells him and doesn't ask a single question. he isn't interested in how chase ticks at all. he's not trying to poke around and figure him out, he's looking to see if chase has any idea what's up with the nun. it's a conversation with a greater purpose, not a talk with chase. it isn't actually until cursed, episode 13, that house takes a personal interest in chase at all, and incidentally, that's also when their second personal interaction takes place (aside from a brief joke about how bad chase's american accent is in poison).

now, we can say that on the one hand: house has known chase for a year now where foreman is brand new; house has more to learn about the latter than the former. this doesn't quite explain cameron (who will continue to have Moments with house leading up to the Crush Era, and has worked here six months). and at the same time, i wouldn't say house particularly dislikes chase (although house does make fun of him much more than anyone else on the team). but. you see what i'm saying, right.

so when people insist "chase is house's favorite!!! chase is house's son!!!" i'm just. come on. their relationship does change over time, and by mid-series it is fascinating. i adore their relationship. but pretending it was ever a priority of the show is. come on. in s1-3? house literally could not care less. chase is house's favorite? be serious

(i mean, i suppose you can't get much more "chase's father" coded than completely ignoring him and not at all caring about him, so i guess there's that.)

[trainsinanime]

I don't think there's enough art analysis of modern train paint schemes. Sadly I know basically nothing about art, so I can't really fill in the gaps, but I can at least try to get the conversation going.

Now, this is a difficult topic, for two main reasons:

There are a lot of trains. Less than cars, sure, but still, a very considerable amount.

We live in a time where it's gotten really easy to give them all widely different liveries.

Point 2 is surprisingly crucial. It used to be that every train livery was paint, with masking tape carefully applied, and a few stickers for the more complicated parts, letters and numbers. That limited the sheer amount of design you could get on there. Trains in Europe have also become very smooth, with not much in the way of access doors or similar. That means for complex paint schemes, you can now do vinyl wraps, like for cars; functionally you print out a giant sticker (or several) with a giant locomotive and make sure to apply them all straight. Sounds difficult, but there are companies specialised in that. So, want a locomotive with gold and Ode to Joy on the side?

(All pictures by me unless otherwise noted)

Yeah you can just do that. SETG's 193 218 here is the only one with this livery, and hey, at least it's still wearing it. They've changed some details since I took this picture in 2017.

So as an example, I'm picking one type of locomotive and in particular one train company. The locomotive is the Siemens Vectron, and generally speaking it looks like this:

The Vectron is an incredibly successful product by Siemens, introduced in 2008 and it keeps on selling. Locomotive 1750 is almost done and was recently shown off at a publicity event, and the orders are already for about 2700 locomotives. I'm only going to look at the "normal" version of it and ignore weird special versions like "with Diesel engine", "extra cheap" and, of course, "Finnish". With that out the way, the Vectron is an electric locomotive that can run at up to 200 km/h or even 230 km/h (125 or 143 mph), provide up to 6400 MW continuous power, run under any type of electricity common in Europe and in most countries. It's highly modular, so you only get the features you want, and you can add other ones later. Some of them haul passenger trains, in particular it's the most modern passenger locomotive in both the Netherlands and Denmark, but the vast majority haul freight all along the major European corridors. For quite a while there it was actually the only modern electric freight locomotive you could get, as their competitor Bombardier and their TRAXX was busy with software and quality control issues, then busy getting bought by Alstom, then busy with software and quality control issues some more. This seems to be coming to an end, Alstom has won some significant orders and is getting close to actually delivering, and meanwhile Stadler has been doing interesting stuff in the specialty field and they're going mainstream as well; but for now, Vectron is still the default. The lamp housings only come in grey, unless you buy the cheap version, the extra powerful version, or the Finnish version (which also doesn't have the whiskers).

The one in the picture is an internal Siemens test unit to get approval for 230 km/h operations, but for the most part, it represents what the locomotive looks like if you order one and forget to tell Siemens what paint you'd want. This sounds like a joke but it's actually surprisingly common. Most locomotives in Europe these days are bought by leasing companies. Some of them are very concerned about corporate identity and have their own paint schemes that customers can then add their logos to (or cover up, if they pay more), but others don't bother, they expect that the customer will wrap the locomotive anyway. Siemens also apparently always has a few white Vectrons in the assembly line, in case someone needs a locomotive really urgently. The expectation is never that customers keep it white for long, it's that they apply at least logos or big stickers and wrap it in whatever they want, with the white as a neutral base. You can often tell secretly white locomotives from the grab bars under the front windows; almost nobody bothers to paint or wrap those, generally speaking.

Design-wise… well, it's a box, with some slightly sculpted cabs at the end. A design feature that everybody loves are the "whiskers"; behind them is the cab air conditioner. People often compare it to European heavy semi-trucks, which is almost certainly intentional.

The full "default I don't care" Vectron doesn't have the silver edges and none of the big "230 km/h" and "Siemens" stickers of this one. It does have a dark grey frame, and a dark grey central roof section. These are the parts that get dirty the quickest (from the wheels and from the pantographs), so darker colours here help make that less apparent. Any part of a Vectron can and will become incredibly dirty eventually if you don't wash it, but these dark areas give you at least a couple more weeks before it becomes really apparent. They're not required, Siemens will happily paint any part of the locomotive any color you want, but a lot of companies adopt these colours for these parts anyway because it just makes sense.

The Beethoven locomotive up top is probably an example of a white default locomotive that got wrapped. I don't love the design, I think it's too busy, but it's not the worst.

For another example of a bad Vectron livery, I controversially submit BLS cargo, a Swiss railway company that nowadays does long-haul container traffic across Europe and crossing the alps:

First, see what I mean about getting dirty? Second, I know people like this livery, but to me, this is a pretty photograph on an otherwise boring livery. It's not integrated in the slightest, and the rest of the livery is just silver-grey, with some lime edges, and some red lower whiskers (fun fact: A splash of red at the front of the locomotive is legally required for Italy).

For something more interesting, let's consider their biggest competitor, SBB Cargo. SBB Cargo is a part of SBB, the Swiss state-owned railway company, and is the main provider of freight trains in Switzerland. They have an international arm, SBB Cargo International, which runs freight trains through Switzerland. Originally, SBB Cargo locomotives looked like this:

Red ends, blue middle, a big "cargo". For the classic locomotives, they got some dynamics slants in there. The more modern boring locomotives got red ends and red edges. In both cases, they're being a big cheeky with the dark frame: They're using it as a baseline for the "cargo" text, with the lower arch of the "g" extending into the frame. Also, note that the newer locomotive is number 482 000. Starting the numbering at zero? The Swiss sure are crazy.

They've been using this paint scheme for a while now, and it was good. But especially SBB Cargo International wanted something else, something of their own. They started out with some cheeky slogans, like the alp tamer:

Alpäzähmer roughly means "alp tamer" in deep Swiss dialect. The locomotive is advertising the opening of the Gotthard base tunnel under the alps in December of 2016, which finally "tamed" the mountain range.

Fun fact: In December of 2016 I travelled to Switzerland to experience this fresh new tunnel for myself. It is a massive engineering marvel, but it turns the actual experience of this 55 km/34 mile tunnel is just "dark for thirty minutes". On the way back, between Zurich and Munich, I watched some episodes of Supergirl, and somewhere around Lake Constance I wrote what is still somehow my most popular Tumblr post by a really long shot. I hate that post so much. The tunnel is good though.

However, a lot of SBB Cargo International's locomotives are just leased modern electrics with a logo stuck on there, like ES 64 F4-091.

Due to corporate mergers, this locomotive is currently on its third leasing company and 2.5th livery (most of it is still leasing company #2, leasing company #3 added the yellow stripe and replaced the logos of the old leasing company with their own). Since it was built in 2004, it's been hired by more than a dozen rail companies from Germany, the Netherlands, Italy, Switzerland, and Austria, it was very briefly a passenger locomotive despite only a 140 km/h (87 mph) top speed, and some companies, including SBB Cargo International, actually had it twice. And all it got to show for it is a logo, a name and an URL. Makes sense, who knows when it'll next get hired to Nordcargo, DB, ACTS, CTL, ITL, another branch of DB, TXL, KRE, RTB Cargo, NIAG LOCON, SETG…

But SBB Cargo International wanted to grow, and get locomotives that unquestionably their own; still leased, but on a very long-term basis, and with their own livery. Which locomotives? Siemens Vectron, of course, it's the default. Which livery? They could have just used a normal SBB Cargo livery, of course, but they wanted to stand out. Enter Simon Wijnacker.

Simon is a dutch rail nerd and graphics designer. He has written books about modern locomotives and their paint, he used to run a website cataloguing them, he still runs a news site about modern locomotives and their paint schemes, but most importantly, he and his design studio Railcolor Design… uh, design color schemes for rail vehicles.

And for SBB Cargo International, he (or his team) came up with a stand-out design: The Alppiercer.

Picture by Thomas Naas, licensed under CC-BY-ND 2.0, on Flickr

Everybody loves the Alppiercer, me included. The stepped gradient color palette? The clever use of the red ends and the blue center? The Swiss cross on the front? The ray of light under the mountains, symbolising how trains pierce the alps with the new Gotthard base tunnel? Perfection.

There have been dozens of variations of this design since, because SBB Cargo International now applies versions of it to all Vectrons it leases, no matter who from, so there are ones on black (Shadowpiercer, for locomotives from former MRCE), blue (Nighpiercer, for locomotives from Hupac), silver (Silverpiercer, Railpool), grey (Alppiercer 3, SüdLeasing), as well as all sorts of one-offs, like Hollandpiercer, Germanypiercer, Ruhrpiercer (for subsidiary RT&S) and so on.

In the meantime, the main SBB Cargo decided to get new locomotives as well, since maintenance of the old workhorses was getting more expensive than getting new ones. This is actually true for a lot of Europe, especially thanks to the need for new equipment like ETCS: Leasing a Vectron is often cheaper than keeping an old locomotive going, even though that one's already paid for. SBB Cargo (main) also decided to buy new locomotives; the contract for that went to Stadler, which surprised everyone. But until those new locomotives are designed, built and approved, it'll take a few years, so in the meantime they're doing the default thing and leasing a couple of Vectrons. They wanted them painted, though, and for that, they once again went to Simon, and he delivered. I don't know whether they requested something different from SBB Cargo International, or whether that was Simon's idea, but either way, this is the result:

I find this super-fascinating. It's the same locomotive, it's the same family of companies, it's based on the same blue-with-red-ends original design, it's even the same designer, yet it's a completely different feel. Don't even focus on that the alp motive is gone and the big "cargo" is back, look at the details:

In the Alppiercer, the red at the front goes all the way down to the bottom of the frame. Here, the frame is dark grey throughout.

The Alppiercer added some black over and under the front windows, where the handrails are. The domestic version lowers is until the black almost hits the whiskers.

Both actually visually raise the frame a bit, by painting the lowest section of the main body in the same color as the frame, but the big cargo version raises it higher, and draws your eye with a big white line. It's also just more frame, because the red of the Alppiercer turns back, creating an arrow shape, while the other has the red just plain slanted, thus giving more red.

There's even a bit of extra frame grey on the lowest set of whiskers.

Both locomotives feature black frames around the door side windows; fairly angular for the Alppiercer, but very smooth for the big cargo version. The big cargo version also links these frames with a horizontal line at the top of the body.

So both locomotives are red at the front, but the impression is a very different one. The Alppiercer looks taller, the big cargo version looks longer and more business-like, stronger.

(Also interesting: The lower arch of the g of the cargo can no longer be on the actual frame, because the Vectron has a very busy frame, with cutouts for fuel tanks in case you want to install a small diesel, with lots and lots of labels, and of course crucially, both a big "Siemens" and a big "Vectron" logo somewhere in there.)

But also interesting are the choices that are the same. A black frame around all windows emphasises them and makes them look larger. The locomotive has some defined bevels, but Railcolor largely ignores them - compare how much red the Alppiercer has with how much lime green the BLS version has. There is a very strong sense here that "I decide what the visual shape of the locomotive is, the manufacturer's outer shape is just a suggestion".

This becomes especially clear when you see the Alppiercer design applied on one of the earlier modern electrics, the Traxxpiercer:

Picture by peters452002, licensed under CC-BY-NC-SA, via Flickr

This is apparently going to stay a one-off, but it makes for an interesting comparison with a locomotive of the same type with the original paint scheme.

Oh god these things have gotten dirty and washed out. Pretty soon the ends will just be white if this continues. But anyway, note that the repainted one again got a raised frame, black around the side windows, extended black around (especially above) the front windows, and extended red at the edges. A subtle touch is that near the buffers, the red is cut off with a bit of black, making the shape slightly more fluid and dynamic. Yes, admittedly the main reason why it looks better and more modern is because it's clean, but also, Railcolor reinvented what it means to make the ends of a TRAXX locomotive red, which is not something anyone else ever tried.

The raised frame is a staple of Railcolor Design, seen also e.g. on their work for Flex, Budamar, very strongly for RTB Cargo and most hilariously Raillogix. The latter (sadly I didn't find any Creative Commons licensed pictures of it) is particularly hilarious, because there's so little design: The most boring logo ever, the company name, one color, a slightly different one for one corner each, and that's it… but then there's a bit of black around the front windows, and a bit of a raised locomotive frame, just as a little "Simon was here".

The Flex one also shows another staple of Railcolor Design, the "dog bone" design (name by me, not official): A narrow beam in the middle that expands out at the cabs. The "Transformer" locomotive for Trustrail is another good example; part of the designs for EBS that Railcolor keeps making that all follow this general approach.

Meanwhile the stepped gradient palettes are also popular. Adria Transport 193 012 "From Sea to Summit" is clearly not an Alppiercer, but very obviously designed by the same people.

So… what can we say from a critical artistic perspective about the work of Railcolor Design when it comes to inventing new ways to paint Swiss locomotives red and blue? I dunno, honestly, I have zero art education. I do know they're putting a lot of care and work into it; they're not afraid to redefine the visual shape of the locomotive; they're playing with its appearance, tall or long or shark-like…

Picture by Rob Dammers, licensed under CC-BY 2.0, found on Flickr

I haven't yet seen a really wide Vectron. Anyway, a lot of interesting stuff coming out from them that, in my opinion, pushes what train design can be in interesting directions.

What do you think? Especially if you know more about art and graphic design than me?

[fallentheatre]

each other's world, torn apart

minecraft end poem as a conversation between two broken brothers.

(@hoverboards-and-dragons heyyyyy)

[alongtidesoflight]

why is it that when you're biracial and you talk to white westerners once the question of your heritage comes up they jump to the absolute worst interpretation of it

[geddy-leesbian]

when people act interested and want to talk to me and they start ignoring me after I send a couple messages 😊

[thebirdandhersong]

alas babes I literally cannot defend this man's name anymore except in the name of ignorance which. you can only claim ignorance for so long

[foxgloveinspace]

I mean this in the nicest way possible: I wish I was a better friend.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[floralovebot]

i am once again thinking about the missed opportunities of a garth and jackson mentor/mentee brother in arms relationship

[bmpmp3]

I NEEED to go back to making art that makes it ABUNDANTLY clear that theres something wrong with my brain BUT NOT in a cool or stylishly interesting way. i need to do it in a way that makes people say "hm." and walk away