#it didn't translate at all as i wanted to

[thegothicviking]

Learned this the hard way.

I'll tell you a story;

As a mid-teen I had acting and drama production as my major in high school/college. My class was divided into smaller groups, to create our own manuscript for a small play, my group (3-4 girls) had to clean the floors in the dance-room/ballett room because we had borrowed the room to practise for our play.

This room had a floor that was rubbery-like and removable AND reversible (you could flip it) depending on if you wanted a all black floor or a all white floor. Now after many days of rehearsing, we had made black shoe-marks on the white side of the floor and decided to clean it. The dance-class were going to have a dance-exam that monday (we would usually rehearsel all weekend) and so we didn't want them to have a dirty floor (the dance class usually used the white-side of the floor anyway so we had to clean off the stains before their exam.)

We wanted to clean the floors efficiently so we used whatever cleaning products we could find in the closet/janitor's room. There were only 2 cleaning products available. So we used both.

It all seemed well. We all grabbed some sponges and each and one of us cleaned a section/corner of the floor. The water and cleaning products were mixed in a large bucket/plastic bowl that we placed in the middle of the room.

..

After cleaning for like an hour, one of the other girls in my group complained that they felt

'A little light-headed' and that

'these cleaning products smelled really bad!'

It was in that moment..after smelling that strong stench of the cleaning products for a solid hour, and after the other girls even adding more Ammonia to the bucket, that I had a hunch that something was wrong. Something was NOT right!

And I decided to follow up on this gut feeling, luckily at a safe distance (away from the bucket of cleaning products and water) I decided to ask the other girls;

"Isn't it dangerous to use too much Ammonia while cleaning? I have read it somewhere..and my mom told me this!"

The other girls laughed at me and one of the girls even sat on their knees and bent her head directly into the bucket/plastic bowl as if to mock my warning/question, as if to "show off" that she dared to put her head into the bucket and directly breath in the fumes/smell comming from the bucket. In other words; it seemed like she thought I was being too silly/soft about this. And the other girls tried to brush off my concern aswell.

But I kept insisting that

"Isn't too much Ammonia dangerous? Shouldn't we at least look it up?"

And finally, after hearing me nagging about this for a 4th or 5th time; the last girl googled some info about Ammonia on her Macbook (now listen kids, this was like 2008-2009, before smartphones existed. Meaning that you didn't have endless of internet on your phone and Macbook laptops were the newest in computers!) and while being annoyed with me..she FINALLY googled

'Ammonia dangerous?'

And what she read out loud (in Norwegian but I'll translate it) was;

"Here! It says 'Ammonia on itself is NOT that dangerous.. :) BUT WARNING; Ammonia should NOT be mixed/used with BLEACH as this creates the highly poisionous gas called 'Chloramine' that can be deadly when'..."

And finally we ALL (not just me) panicked;

"YEAHOK WE NEED TO CALL THE POISION/TOXIN'S PHONE!!!" (A nickname for the Norwegian call-information help line about toxic/poisionous substances and what you should do if you come across such substances/ what not to do in these cases)

So the same girl that had finally googled my little warning, also called the "poision phone/info help line" and told the help-line that we

'had been mixing Ammonia with bleach...because those two were the only cleaning products we could find when we were going to clean the floor'

The rest of the conversation with the lady from the toxin/posionous substance hot line-help phone went like this;

Toxin/posioinous substance help-line Lady: "And for how long have you stayed in the room with the toxic gas?"

The classmate that first didn't believe me; "Uh...we've been cleaning for like..an hour? I think? One of us even put their head into the bucket and breathed in the gas...."

(And I remember that girl felt really embarrassed when we all looked at her)

There was a little pause at the other end of the phone before we could hear a genuine panic-y voice;

Toxin/posioinous substance help-line Lady:

"YeahYouNeedToOpenAllWindowsAndDoorsAndGetYourselvesOoutOfThereRightNow!!"

So we were told to open all windows and doors and get out of that hazard-zone ASAP!! And it didn't matter if the floors were not clean and if the dance class were going to have a dance exam the next day/upcomming Monday.

We had to get the FUCK out of that room!! And we RAN!

__________________

We were honestly all lucky to survive and were lucky that the black building that both dancers and drama-students used as a rehearsel room, was across the gym- field, so not too close to the main school building!

(Can you imagine if this happened in the MAIN school building?? Were we would have normal subjects?? Where teachers and cafeteria personal all have their workspace?? The main building with all the other several hundred students, breathing in that HELL we had just created!?!? Nah I don't even want to imagine it!)

I am to this day, almost 20 years later, amazed that nobody sued us or had us pay for any damages!! We made a highly toxic GAS. A freakin' WEAPON on school property and we survived without getting any consequences! Mind blowing!!

_______

At last, in the end; we all had to go home and we all worried that anyone would enter through the open doors and windows to steal speakers and/or light-gear. And we were punished by feeling sick and dizzy, all the way home and half the day after.

(My busride home lasted for almost 1 hour and my stomach, head and throat hurt so much, it felt like I was breathing crushed glass! And I didn't even wanted to think about that one girl that had willingly been NOSE-DIVING/head first into that bucket of invisible DEATH!!!)

We felt sorry for the dancers as we had to call their dance-teacher and tell them that the dance-rehearsel/ballett room would probably not be safe enough to be in during their planned next-day dance-exam.

(and sadly no I don't remember if they got to have the dance-exam that day or if it had to be delayed due to the dangerous GAS CHAMBER that we, the 1st graders drama-idiots made in THEIR main rehearsel room!!)

So let me conclude this by reminding you all that;

Without ME, one single individual, insisting to a group of 2-3 others that;

"Too much Ammonia could be dangerous and maybe we should look that up?"

My ENTIRE group (me included), and maybe even some unaware dance-students, may not have still been ALIVE today to tell y'all tumblr folks about this crazy story that could have ended sooo much worse!

And as this was in the days when Facebook was still new and "cool" (2008/2009-ish), then of COURSE, our group created a private facebook group called

"The Gaschamber"

("Gasskammeret" in Norwegian)

where we could share the few pictures of that stupid, then very oblivious, girl with her head deep down into that bucket of DEATH and exclude the rest of our class, the smart ones, that all laughed at us for weeks and months, (and for a good reason!)

And I do believe that this private facebook group ("Gasskammeret") still exists today almost 20 years later! Abandoned, but probably never fully forgotten! (If Facebook randomly didn't decide to just remove it)

And EVEN THOUGH our names have been kept anonymous.. (at least I hope so!)

that 'drama 1st grader class of 2008/9' is most likely STILL used as a "classic horror example" (as we say in Norwegian for an example of something disastrous that you don't wish to copy!!), by the teachers as a fair warning for all new 1st graders, for all new generations of drama-dorks, attending that same high school, that we gassed up with that dangerous gas called "Chloramide".

Yes, our teachers admitted when we were 2nd and 3rd graders that our dangerous cleaning-cocktail was a perfect example on what NOT to do, on which cleaning products that should NEVER be mixed, when you are cleaning floors and so all 1st graders that were accepted in the drama/drama production class, were told this very true horror story!

_____________________________________

Dear tumblrs. keep in mind that there are TWO morals to this story;

You DO NOT, I repeat, you DO NOT under ANY circumstances (doesn't matter how much more efficient you think you are) simply mix "whatever cleaning products you can find in the closet/cupboard" at COMPLETE random without AT LEAST looking up if this is safe or not!!

and

2. You ALWAYS trust your gut when it tells you that "something may not be all right here.." I swear in 9/10 cases that gut feeling will be CORRECT and so you FOLLOW that feeling and you make sure to find answers/a solution to figure out WHAT the hell is going on and WHY you are feeling nervous/not alright about the situation!

Because if I had ignored that gut-feeling that day, if I had ignored that I had both read and heard it from my parents that "it could be dangerous to clean with too much Ammonia"...then none of us would habe bothered to look up any of the cleaning products that we used and by the serious tone of the voice from that toxin help-line lady..

I am 10000000000% billion times sure that I saved us that day!

I SAVED our asses that day from dying on school property at the tender age of 16.

I SAVED the lives of those other girls, and my own life, simply because NO ONE ELSE..ever suggested that we should look up whatever cleaning produts that we were using that day.

Those other girls in that group owe me their lives! (And we are not even in contact with each other anymore..)

I'm luckily alive and here to tell y'all to NOT be like us almost 20 years ago. Do NOT be this stupid whenever you are cleaning!!!* Or in other horror scenarios when dealing with poisionous/toxic gasses/substances that COULD kill you!*

(*Unless you wish to die but I'm sure most of y'all don't!)

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

That was all. This was my "should-have-been DEAD-talk!"

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

[lazysoulwriter]

prompt #19 - “you’ll never be too much for me.” - pedro pascal.

CW: emotional comfort, soft Pedro, reader struggles with emotional sensitivity, gentle intimacy, loving reassurance 🤍

It happened quietly.

You hadn’t meant to pull away—not really. But he noticed the way your body stiffened when the conversation got too deep, when the laughter around the dinner table turned sharp. Jokes that weren’t mean, but weren’t kind either.

You smiled through it. Nodded along. Picked at your food.

And Pedro? Pedro kept his hand on your thigh under the table, thumb moving in slow, soothing circles. He didn't say anything until much later, when the dishes were done and you were curled up on the couch with your knees pulled to your chest.

“I can tell when you’re not really okay, mi amor.”

Your breath caught. He said it so gently, like it wasn’t an accusation. Just a truth.

“I’m fine,” you said, quietly. “It’s just… I feel too much sometimes. I take things to heart. Always have.”

Pedro sat beside you, not touching yet, just there. Close. Present. His voice was low. “And people made you feel like that was wrong?”

You nodded. “Like I was too much. Too sensitive. Too dramatic. So I learned to just... not show it. To shut it down.”

There was a pause. Then the couch shifted under his weight as he leaned in, one arm slipping around your waist, the other gently brushing hair from your face.

His voice was soft but steady, like an anchor. “You’ll never be too much for me.”

You blinked, trying not to cry, but his arms were already around you.

“I want to know what’s in your head, baby. All of it. The loud parts. The tender ones. Even the messy stuff.” He kissed your temple. “You feel deeply. That’s not a flaw. That’s magic.”

You buried your face in his chest, letting the tears come quiet and slow. He held you through all of it—no rush, no pressure. Just warmth. Just Pedro.

And in that moment, you believed him. Maybe for the first time.

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that. send me your prompt!

[killishin]

— ♡ my pretty neighbour.

PART 01.

PAIRING: jason todd x witch! reader

CONTENT WARNING: afab reader, blood, violence, alcohol, mention of assaults, more to be added.

CATEGORY: shit ton of fluff, no smut but suggestive themes, sfw, maybe angst?

SUMMARY: a witch trying her best to lay low and live her life, while being out of every gothams vigilante's radar. turns out red hood had been her neighbour all along. also they have cute little pets.

WC: 4k (ongoing)

A/N: another jason fic yep. i didn't really have a solid idea but i just really wanted to write something so.... enjoy!

part 01

dividers by @cursed-carmine

all rights reserved ©2025 killishin. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[band--psycho]

Poly!141 x Reader - Stop The Wedding (Part 6)

Thank you all so much for the continued love you're giving this story! It honestly means so much to me! 💛

I hope you all enjoy this part 💛

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for all the continued support 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Catch up on the previous part here: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /Part 4 / Part 5

Warnings: Feelings of anger, confusion, sadness, jealousy, brief mentions of death/being killed/being shot, angst

COD Modern Warfare Masterlist /Taskforce 141 Masterlist /Join My Taglist

You were lying on your sofa, simply reading and relaxing after what had been an exhausting day of wedding preparation. 

Your social battery was absolutely drained, you didn’t want to talk to anyone; you just wanted to read your current book and chill, before going back to work. 

Thankfully, Phillip knew you well enough to know how socially exhausting today had been, and decided to go out with some work colleagues to give you some space. 

He was good like that. 

You were so engrossed in the book, that the sudden ringing of your doorbell made you jump a little. 

You scowled at the door as though the inanimate object itself was the source of your distraction.

You knew it wasn’t Phillip, he’d made sure to take his keys in case you fell asleep before he got home.

Knowing that it wasn’t your fiance at the door made you a lot more reluctant to open it; especially given that it was 9pm and starting to get dark outside. 

But then the bell rang again, followed by several quick yet short knocks. 

Whoever it was was certainly persistent. 

A defeated sigh left your lips as you placed the book down on the small coffee table next to you.

All you wanted to do was read and have a peaceful evening, was that too much to ask for?

You’d only just got to your feet before the ringing of the bell came once again. 

“Just gimme sec, jeez,” you shouted from the living room, quickly walking into the hallway and opening the door. 

“Look, I don’t know what-” you began your voice trailing off as you stared at the four men in front of you. 

“Nope,” you pretty much shouted at them, attempting to slam the door in their faces, but the door was halted by Simon’s foot on the bottom of the door frame. 

He didn't flinch.

Not even a little.

“We just wanna talk, sweetheart ” John spoke, leaning his head around the door slightly so that he could see you. 

“I don't want to talk to you,” you snapped back, “and don’t call me, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” John apologised, even in the dim light of your porch, you could see the hurt flicker in his eyes at your words. 

“How did you even know where I live?” 

“We had some help with that,” Johnny admitted, his voice coming from behind John, his figure hidden.

You didn’t need to ask who. 

You knew who. 

Kate Laswell.

Well now you just felt like all your privacy had been violated; fantastic. 

“Please, just let us explain why we’re here,” Kyle urged. 

You couldn’t understand what had changed in such a short time with Kyle, one minute he was congratulating you on your engagement and apologising for his partners uninvited arrival at your workplace, the next he was partaking with them in an uninitiated arrival at your home. 

Another sigh fell from your lips; knowing that there was no way you were going to be able to close this door with Simon’s foot wedged on the frame.

You didn’t really want to let them in. 

But what choice did you really have? 

Your mobile was in the living room so you couldn’t exactly call anyone. 

“Y/n, please,” Simon's plea filled your ears; you suppose you should be grateful he wasn’t forcing himself into your home, you knew his strength, knew he could easily just shove the door and be inside the house already. 

You pulled the door back, away from Simon’s foot and looked at all four of them, crossing your arms across your chest, trying to keep control of the anger burning inside of you. 

Your eyes met John first; hearing a relieved sigh fall from his lips. 

Next to him was Simon, unreadable as ever.

Behind Simon was Johnny, who you noticed was wearing the hoodie you stole and slept in for a month when you were dating. 

And next to the Scotsman was Kyle, who looked nervous, you noticed how much he was fidgeting behind John.

It was weird; you’d never really seen Kyle nervous before. 

And his nervousness only added to your confusion as to why they were here.

What were they expecting? 

To just pop back up in your life and waltz back in as your  partners like nothing had ever happened?

“What are you doing here?” Your questioned firmly, part of you desperate to have an explanation as to why they were here. 

The other part, knowing that their answer, regardless of what it was, was probably going to involve you cancelling your wedding which just simply enraged you. 

“We need to talk,” John stated, his voice continuing to remain calm despite the evident rage in your words and actions. 

“I gathered that,” you snapped back coldly, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down before talking again.

“What about?”

“About Graves,” Johnny answered, his eyes meeting yours. 

Graves?

Phillip? 

They wanted to talk to you about Phillip?

Johnny called him Graves instead of Phillip….like he knew him…how the hell could he or any of them know Phillip. 

Your stomach flipped as your confusion grew, "Phillip?"

“Just let us come in and we’ll explain,” Kyle stated; you knew letting them in was probably going to be a bad idea.

You knew they wouldn’t hurt you, not physically at least; but that didn’t mean that you weren’t going to be more pissed off with them by the time they left.

Slamming the door in their faces wasn’t an option either, evidently. 

And you couldn’t help but be curious, curious about what shit they’d managed to make up to persuade you to not marry your Fiancé. 

You were certain it was about that subject at least.

You stared at them; the four men you'd loved, the four men you'd trusted with everything, and stepped back, pulling the door fully open. 

“You’ve got ten minutes, after that I’m calling the police,” you warned, watching as the four men filed into your home, walking down the hallway and into your living room. 

It was a bizarre feeling, seeing people that you thought you’d spend a future with in a home you’d built (metaphorically) with the person you were actually going to spend your future with.

You noticed each of them looking around at different things; a sense of familiarity washing over each of them as they recognised things that used to live within the walls of their home. 

Little things, like candles, pictures, throws that were over the sofa. 

“Talk,” you instructed, making them all turn and look at you. 

“You can’t marry Graves,” Johnny began, taking a step closer to you. 

You backed away, a bitter laugh leaving your lips as you shook your head, “none of you, have the right to tell me who I can and cannot marry.”

“He’s not who you think he is,” Kyle continued, mimicking Johnny's steps.

His words made your blood boil. 

“Pot kettle,” you snarked back.

None of the men before you turned out to be the people you believed them to be; but Kyle had the audacity to say that about the man you were marrying; and your response signified that. 

“Y/n, you can’t trust him,” John stated, only adding to your anger. 

“But I can trust you right, John?” The sarcasm was dripping in your voice; and you didn’t even care at the frustrated and hurt look he gave you. 

Part of you felt like you were going insane; the people who broke your heart were standing here telling you that you couldn’t trust your soon to be husband,  without actually giving you any reason why.

“Why do you seem to believe I can’t trust him?” You asked exasperatedly, losing your patience,

Simon took a few strides towards you, you went to back away but the cabinet behind you halted your movements. 

“He shot Johnny,” his tone was quiet, as though he was worried there was someone outside of this room was going to hear him. 

You felt all the rage inside you freeze at his words for a brief moment. 

Your eyes searched Simon’s; looking for an indication that he was lying, but there was none, all you could see was truth in his eyes. 

You glanced behind Simon’s muscular figure to look at Johnny; searching for confirmation of Simon’s accusation. 

“Shot me in the arm when we were in Mexico, after trying to kill Si and me,” Johnny explained, taking his hoodie off to show you the scar on his arm. 

This couldn’t be real. 

They had to be making it up to just stop the wedding from happening….but something inside you, something deep down inside of you couldn’t help but believe the words they were saying. 

“You’re lying,” you whispered, unsure of who you were trying to convince, them or yourself. 

“I’m not,” Simon stated, his eyes meeting yours, “you know I’m not.”

Simon kept certain things from you during your relationship; that was true, but he never lied to you. 

Never. 

He was always straight with you about the things he felt comfortable talking about and if he didn’t want to talk about something, he simply told you that. 

“He’ll try to deny it,” he continued, “Or he’ll say we’re twisting the story to get you back,” 

His voice was firm, but his eyes were soft, you felt a slight ache in your heart as you stared into them, the moments you shared flashing through your mind, the good and the bad.

“Isn’t that what you’re trying to do, twist the story?” You whispered, tearing your eyes away from Simon’s to look at the others. 

“Why did he try to kill you?” The words felt foreign leaving your mouth, your mind barely processing the words you were saying. 

“He had his orders,” John answered simply as Simon took a few steps away from you, allowing you to see the captain and the others. 

A shaky breath escaped your lips.

What did you do with this information?

Phillip was a soldier, you knew that; you’d assumed given his job that he’d killed people; just like the men currently in this room had. 

But trying to kill Johnny and Simon….it made you feel sick to your stomach and confused.

“Ye cannae trust him and ye certainly canne marry him,” Johnny spoke softly, clearly seeing how confused you were by what was going on. 

“Do you guys just enjoy ruining my life?” You scoffed, feeling the tears beginning to form in your eyes, attempting desperately to blink them away. 

You were not going to cry. 

Not in front of them. 

Not again.

You refused to. 

“Quite the opposite, love,” Simon replied back solemnly, “we fuckin’ hate it.”

“Then why can’t you just let me be happy?”

“You can be happy, with anyone else,” John responded back softly.

“Just not him,” Kyle finished; wanting nothing more than to hold you so you could cry properly whilst he comforted you.

You glanced up at the clock, realising that their time had ended and now they had to leave, before you completely broke down. 

“Your ten minutes is up,” you pointed out to them, nodding towards the clock on the wall.

“Y/n-,” Johnny started, reaching out to you, not wanting to leave you like this, not again. 

But you shrugged away his touch; worried that you would lose what little composure you were holding on to if you let his fingers linger on you. 

“Get out,”

Your words were harsh, anger and sadness morphing together and leaving no room for a discussion to be had.

"I'm sorry," Kyle whispered his apology to you as they all began to file out of the room.

It was only when you heard the door close that you let yourself break down; trying to wrap your head around the fact that the man you’re in love with tried to kill two of the people who’d once been as important to you as he was. 

Taglist:

@z0omi33 @mermaniaa @sunrise-willarive @imdeadontheinside786 @asterionex @pinkyyoshi @yaradigital @euriiverse @eternallyvenus @littlejoyfulthings @s-void @rivwritesiguess @lilyalone @salemlovespies @amongthe141 @z-wantstowrite @sleepybarnesbby @maryrhodalouandted @uraeus56 @skipping-throughlife @echo9821 @nanamisfootrest @tribbisweetdear @backalleytimetravel @fruitymoonbeams-blog @alejandro-vargass-wife @moon-on-the-crest @dasphinxone @iaozuyiling @magicwritesinspo @lilylovesliterature @tabbslouuformer @mahidiaree @disasterofastory @famouspoetrydinosaur @rosecastiello @massivescissorsthingperson @yearninglustfully @therapyneeds @beautifuleaglealpaca @bookworm1767

[vevobly]

Yellowjackets With Filipino Reader Headcanons! [Peri-crash] (1)

A/N: One of my friend's birthday is coming up pretty soon, so I decided to make this post as a gift to them! There's a translation for everything that the reader says in filipino down in the comments for you guys. Enjoy and devour as always! 😺

Jackie Taylor:

It frustrates her to no end that you’ll mutter something under your breath in Tagalog and smirk after someone annoys you. And she knows it’s about her sometimes. So, she starts asking you what certain words mean. “So what does…‘buwisit’ mean? You called me that earlier.” You tell her it means “beautiful” and she just absolutely believes you. When she finds out that it didn't mean the same thing as you told her it meant from someone else on the team, she confronts you directly about it before storming off pissed as fuck.

Jackie does not know how to take you. I mean, you weren't impressed by her back then. You definitely aren't impressed by her now. You fight—a lot. And one day, she snaps to which you just facepalm and mutter “ang arte mo talaga” to her. “I KNOW that was about me,” she replies, lip curled. You look her dead in the eye and respond. “Yeah! You’re dramatic.” She doesn’t talk to you for a day. Then, when you’re out splitting wood, she just says this. “You’re kind of the only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m useless now.”

After that, she starts being really weirdly too nice towards you. Even more when Shauna was distancing herself from her. She's almost always sharing her food ration with you, brushing it off with confusing stuff like “you’re cold all the time" or "don’t want you freezing to death before I win an argument" etc. She keeps gravitating toward you—watching you peel wood, eavesdropping when you mutter in tagalog. Over time, she starts asking for your help with things but she never phrases it like she needs you at all. You think it's funny somehow and a bit cute.

Shauna Shipman:

You’re the only one who notices when Shauna’s hands tremble after burying someone. And then you're almost always quietly handing her something random to hold, telling her it's something she needs to look after out of nowhere. She's confused, but she nevertheless does just that and never forgets it. She doesn't know when or how exactly it happened, but she starts quietly learning tagalog phrases just to understand you. Especially when you're insulting her for something.

You correct her tagalog when she asks what “pikon” means after hearing you say it to Jackie. “Means sensitive. You are, a little” you say gently to her, and Shauna flushes. One time when you caught her looking guilty after Jackie scolded her for spacing out, you decided to ask her if she was okay. She just nods in response and you frown for a moment before replying with “Hindi ka nag-iisa” - She doesn’t ask you what it means, but she keeps the words in her mind despite it. Shauna is drawn to you like a moth to a flame she swears she won’t touch, and it is BAD.

You teach her a few Tagalog words from time to time. She tries them but messes them up. When she says "maganda ka" to you one day, you freeze - caught completely off guard with it. "Did I say it wrong?" She asks you. "No," you replied quietly. "You just said I'm beautiful.." And that gets her really red in the face while you're all so quiet with her after it. Later? When everyone's asleep, she leans against your shoulder and despite the kinda awkward moment earlier, you don't move away. Neither of you says a word before drifting to sleep.

Taissa Turner:

Tai knows you're swearing when you start talking in tagalog. She doesn’t know what you’re saying, but she knows. She pretends not to care when you say something about her in Tagalog, but she corners Van later and asks her “That thing she said to me today—how bad was it?” When neither Van or anyone else on the team knows what you're saying about her, she starts going out of her way to sit next to you during planning stuff and makes a game of guessing what your words mean.

You guys butt heads early on because while Tai is efficient, you're intuitive. She says you’re “sloppy” once and you haven't stopped calling her “masungit” since then. She admires the way you are, but when you push back on her trying to be a leader for the team? Oh boy, things get tense fast. “We need to follow a system,” she snaps at you one day. “You mean your system,” you reply. You walk away, muttering a curse in tagalog. “You always do that—say shit no one can call you out on!” Taissa shouts. You guys don't talk to each other for days because of it.

But eventually, she corners you and asks her what you said about her. You look at her. “I said I’m tired of being ordered around by people who don’t listen” She doesn't say anything, but the next time she makes a decision? She looks at you first. You both end up becoming the designated planners of the group, and she starts seeking out your opinion before anyone else since then. She asks you to teach her some words once. You don't say yes, but later when you mutter “gago” when Travis does something stupid? She repeats it under her breath with a grin.

Van Palmer:

Van thinks you're hilarious. Even though half the time she doesn't understand what you're saying. When Mari annoyed you once? She whispered “say something in tagalog” to you. You glanced at Mari and muttered “hayop ka” to which Van nearly choked laughing. You make her laugh even when you’re not trying. Especially when you mutter “bahala kayo diyan” and walk away dramatically. She’s the only one you don’t mind translating your curses for on the team because she doesn’t take it personally.

You and her create secret inside jokes about people. Like, if someone’s being annoying? She’ll whisper “banana ketchup” and you’ll both just lose it. Van flirts with you a lot openly. But her flirting is very weird, and confuses you because she just tries to come up with her own fake filipino words just to tease you. One time she accidentally says something real and really vulgar that your jaw dropped. You tell her never to say it in public again. "What? What'd I say?!" She asks you. "I'll tell you if you hold my hand" You replied. "Deal!" But you're both equally weird, tbh.

Van is one of the few who doesn’t get weird when you speak Tagalog. She asks questions and she listens to you about it. “Teach me a swear word,” she begged you once. And you do. But she butchers it badly that you laugh for the first time in days. After that, Van starts sitting closer to you—sharing food, nudging you awake during night watch—you never talk about it. But it feels like something is forming. Or maybe breaking? She gives you dumb nicknames in Tagalog based on what she thinks they mean. “My little... tinapay" You stared at her. "You just called me bread"

Natalie Scatorccio:

You and Nat have this weird unspoken thing. You don't ask about her shit. She doesn't ask about yours. That's the foundation of your relationship with each other. You once threw a knife into a tree after an argument with someone else on the team and muttered “lintek na buhay to” to which she passed you a cigarette without a word. You help her with her hair one day and Natalie practically short circuits. You sit together often. Not talking, but just being close to each other. You don't need her to be soft, and that's what does it for her.

“Next time you wanna say something sweet in tagalog, just whisper it in my ear” She jokes to you after it, and you basically stop working for a moment. She opens up to you in small ways. Tells you about her dad. Her mom. The anger. She doesn’t expect comfort, but you give it anyway. When you mutter in tagalog, she doesn’t ask that much. You asked her why once. “I like it better when I don’t understand,” she replied. “At least I can pretend it’s nice.” You tell her you don't know what to think about that to which she laughs about.

One night, when everyone else is asleep, she tells you "I like hearing you talk, even if I don't get it all. I like how you talk" and then the two of you don't talk for two days after until she gets a cut on her hand and you happened to be the only person available to patch it up for her. "You could be gentler" She winces. "You could be less reckless" You snap back. Her lip quirks and she replies with. "Fair." You flick her head after you finish patching her up. "jusko, ikaw ang ikamamatay ko"

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie watches you more than she speaks to you at first. She doesn’t mean to focus on you, but she does. Before the crash, you guys barely ever interacted with each other unless necessary or because of something like being left alone with each other and so. On a cold morning after a few days since the plane crashed, you lend her a scarf. “Para sayo.” You tell her. She asks what you just said meant, and you can't help but smile. "For you" You answer. After that, she starts being close to you. Doing tasks with you almost more than anyone else on the team.

She learns words like ganda, tanga, and so much more just so she can understand you better. That, and so you'd have someone else to talk to in tagalog even though she wouldn't be able to understand everything you say in it. At least you'd have someone to talk to in your native language, right? She asks you from time to time to teach her a word every day. And surprisingly so, she remembers them. She says “ingat ka” before you go outside the cabin once and you freeze, your mouth agape while you blinked repeatedly to see if you heard what you did correctly at the time.

There's this strange comfort between you, and this really weird thing where you speak in tagalog but she doesn't understand what you said yet she knows exactly what you meant by your words somehow. In the middle of a really cold night when everyone else but you guys are asleep, you whisper “malamig” to yourself. "What does that word mean? " She asks you after. "Cold," You replied. Later, when she lies next to you by the fire, she whispers. "Still cold?" And you feel your cheeks heating up. "Not right now.."

Laura Lee:

Honestly, you surprise her. You're crass, tough, and sometimes harsh but you always say “thank you” when she shares food or water. She's a bit wary of you at first. Not just because you weren't religious, but you also tended to ask her a bunch of questions about her beliefs and so that came off as insensitive and offensive at times. She thought you hated her initially because of it until you caught her crying once and told her how much you admire her will to keep being faithful at times like these before leaving.

Just because of that one moment, Laura Lee has a whole reevaluation about you and starts getting close to you. It begins with the smallest things—being paired up for chores, helping her out now and then, and little shared moments. Though she doesn’t understand anything you say when you curse, she just knows they’re definitely not good. She mostly guesses the meanings of the words you say in tagalog. And if not that, she just asks you. "What does putangina mean?" And you respond with. "It's motherfucker" She gasps, scandalized.

She starts asking you for “non-evil” tagalog phrases, and you teach her the most church appropriate ones like — salamat, mabait ka, and etc. But you also teach her pakyu and lie about the meaning of it. So she says it at Jackie one day, and you lose it. She hears you sing a kundiman one night and thinks it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard. “Does god understand me?” You asked her. And she giggles like the question is a bit silly. “God understands all, no matter what language they speak.” Somehow, your cheeks heat up at that.

Misty Quigley:

Misty desperately wants to know what you’re saying all the time. She starts carrying a notebook and tries to phonetically spell out your curses to look them up when you guys get rescued in the future or just to decipher their meanings by herself and in which situations you use them. That, or she just asks you instead. She tries to parrot your insults but always gets the stress wrong. “Pu...ta—gee-na?” She says one day. “That’s not how you say it, Misty. Stop before I call a multo on you.”

You avoid her at first, but she keeps “coincidentally” being wherever you are. One day she tries to help you cook rice wrong and you snap. “You don’t stir the rice! Anong ginagawa mo?!” You shouted at her. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to bond!” She replied, quickly going away. You start calling her makulit, epal, and sira ulo since then. She thinks those are words of endearments, but they're not. One day she gives you a sad look and asks, “Does ‘sira ulo’ mean you like me?” It reminds you of a kicked puppy. “...Sure. Let’s go with that.” You replied.

She eventually finds out that they aren't, and while she's super hurt about it. She just ignores it, because you're nice to her. Although “nice” is a bit subjective though. Misty doesn’t understand boundaries, and while you would love to tell her off immediately, you feel bad for it so you start scolding her in Tagalog—huwag mo kong hawakan, ha? She never gets you, but at least she tries to. She still hovers you, despite of it. One day, she asks. “Would you tell me if you were saying something mean about me?” And you look her in the eye. “No, ” You replied. “But at least you can think what I say to you is nice, right?” It's bad, but it's better than being outright mean to her.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

how do you think the boys yearn/deal with a crush? I’m trying to envision a dynamic between a hunter reader and the two brushing off their feelings

Oh I LOVE this question with all my heart! Thank you, anon, for sending it in! ❤️

It's kind of a shame we never got to see either of them really with crushes. Out of all the romantic scenarios the show didn't have (which is fine, not complaining at all, we wouldn't have that much amazing fan fic if it did, is my theory) them yearning/pining is the thing I would have loved to see the most.

Dean just becomes a puppy dog, I think. He's all smiley and giggly around her. Hangs on every word she says. That woman can do no wrong. Extra points if she's a bit of a trouble maker, and Dean gives her a pass on everything, which reeeeally weirds out Sam, cause he wouldn't get away with half the stuff you do!

It's only when she puts herself in real danger that Dean's super protective side comes out. He can't contain the worry, gets grumpy. He's angry at whoever hurt her, and they'll get what's coming to them, but his fear for her safety translates into a bad mood. No assurances from her side that she's fine are gonna calm him down, either - it takes hours for him to get out of that state, and at some point, when all her wounds are taken care of, he'll probably isolate himself, stew a bit. Love's great and all, but it's exhausting. He doesn't know how to make her his, and he doesn't know how to be around her when that's all he wants to do. Maybe at some point he'll try to take a step back, keep some distance. But at the first sweet smile or inside joke, he's right back where he was before.

Sam's kinda similar, except that he makes sure to keep his distance the moment he realizes there's something going on. He's seen the show too - well, he lived it - and he knows he's no good in that regard. Plus he's got better self-control than Dean. Still, he can't help being drawn in my the little things: you sharing your excitement about something you read, you getting a little cocky and playfully flirty once you've had a drink. When he reaches for something for you and passes it down, and you look up at him with that look that tells him you know he enjoyed that. But it can never be. Sam knows that.

He gets jealous as hell, but doesn't allow himself to express it. He doesn't have any right to you, he knows that. Doesn't matter how much he imagines things could be different, how much he wishes they were. He lies awake at night, one arm tucked behind his head, deep frown on his face while that big brain goes over the problem he's trying to solve again and again. There is no solution. He rolls onto his side and tries to sleep, but only dreams of you.

And I know you didn't ask for this specifically, but if they're both down bad for you? Oh man. They can read each other, know each other so well, so they immediately know what is going on . There's no way either of them is going to get in the way of his brother getting what he wants, getting something good - and you are the best there is. They'll both try to keep their distance, failing, of course, miserably. Cause how can they stay away when you make them feel so alive so good? Something's gotta give, but whether it's an unplanned kiss after surviving a life threatening situation, you taking the initiative or confronting them about acting like absolute weirdos - only time will tell.

[keithyp00]

▄︻デ══━一💥Tension Is A Loaded Gun

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: flirty banter, friendship with Sam, slow-burn tension, humor, light angst, found family, soft Bucky, teasing Sam, mentions of past trauma

(MDNI 18+): explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), praise kink, "pussy drunk", vocal, dom/sub, multiple orgasms, aftercare

Word Count:4.1K

Author Note: Hi guys! Sorry I took a hiatus without telling you guys... But I'm back with another spicy one since the last one did so good. So I hope you guys enjoy and I'll try to be back to my normal posting schedule since school is almost over so fingers crossed :)

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

It was too damn hot for Delacroix.

You stood with a rag in one hand and a beer in the other, watching the Wilson family boat bob gently in the water like it had all the time in the world. Salt clung to the air, thick and heavy like the humidity. Your tank top stuck to your skin, damp with sweat and engine grease, and the smell of fish was less offensive now than it had been when you arrived three days ago.

"Hey!" Sam's voice carried from behind you, teasing. "You look like you're about to punch the boat."

"I'm considering it," you muttered, swiping your forearm over your brow. "This damn engine is older than I am."

"Yeah, well, she still works," Sam grinned, hopping onto the deck beside you with the grace of someone who did this whole life. "Unlike some people."

"You're hilarious," you deadpanned.

He held up a hand, placating. "Hey, I'm the one getting shown up by a boat."

You might've flipped him off if the sound of boots on the dock hadn't pulled your attention. Heavy. Familiar.

You didn't need to look up to know who it was.

James Buchanan Barnes.

The first time you met him, you'd been bleeding mission gone sideways, snapping at everyone who tried to help. Except him. He just stared you down, calm and unreadable, before grunting, "You got guts," and stitching you up himself with surgeon's precision.

That was six months ago.

Now, he was walking towards you with his sleeves rolled up, hair messy and short, and a gaze like a loaded weapon.

"Afternoon," he greeted, nodding to you. His voice was always rough, like it had to be dragged out of him.

"Bucky," you returned, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped.

You weren't sure when it started- maybe during a mission, maybe in a stolen glance, or the time he handed you a towel after a sparring match and his fingers lingered on your like he didn't want to let go. It didn't matter. It built. Quietly. Relentlessly.

And now every time he looked at you, it felt like your bones remembered him.

"Sam," Bucky added, glancing over.

"Barnes," Sam said back with a grin. "Come to supervise or get your hands dirty?"

"That depends," Bucky muttered. "On whether you're gonna keep flirting with the engine or let someone else take a crack."

You choked on your beer and coughed once, hard.

Bucky smirked.

You glanced at him sideways. "You trying to say I'm bad at this?"

"No," he said, stepping closer- close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, "Just saying maybe you need some backup."

"You offering?" You raised an eyebrow.

His lips twitched. "Maybe."

There was something dangerous about the way he looked at you, like he wanted to ruin something and was just waiting for your permission.

Sam groaned. "Alright, alright- if you two are gonna eye-fuck each other again, I'm getting the hell outta here."

You whipped around. "Excuse me?"

"Don't 'excuse me' me," he said, already walking away. "I've got two super soldiers trying to out-stubborn each other in 90 degree heat. I'm going to find a fan and some peace."

You turned back toward Bucky slowly, pulse drumming in your ears. He was closer now. Still watching you. Still smirking like he'd won something.

"Wasn't eye-fucking," you said softly, defensively.

"Could've fooled me," he replied, tone low. "You gonna let me help or not?"

You handed him the wrench wordlessly. He took it, brushing your fingers- deliberate, measured, testing.

The two of you worked in silence. You watched his muscles flex under the sun, veins prominent in his arms, and a thin sheen of sweat highlighting every line of him. You shouldn't have noticed. But you did. You always did.

By the time the boat sputtered back to life, it was late afternoon and your patience had frayed into something wild and taut. You turned to thank him- and didn't expect him to be standing so close.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he murmured.

You stilled. "So?"

"It's loud."

"So is yours."

His gaze dipped to your lips.

"I've been thinking about this for weeks," he admitted, voice rough. "How you smell like sweat and steel, and how your mouth tastes like beer when you've been working out in the sun."

"Bucky-"

"Tell me to stop."

You didn't.

Instead, you surged forward and kissed him like you'd been waiting since the first time he stitched you up. It was filthy. Desperate. His hands- one warm, one cold- gripped your hips like he was afraid that you'd vanish.

"Inside," you whispered against his mouth.

He obeyed instantly.

~~~~~

The door slammed shut behind you in Sam's guest room. You barely made it to the bed before Bucky was on you- pressing, growling, teeth grazing the skin of your throat like he'd die if he didn't taste you.

You gasped when he pushed your tank top up, lips dragging down your stomach.

"Fuck, Bucky-"

"I know," he muttered. "I know."

He kissed you like he needed you more than oxygen. And when he pulled your shorts off, his breath caught.

"You're soaked," he whispered. "Already?"

You bit back a sigh, back arching into his touch. "It's cause I've been thinking about you. Every damn night."

He groaned like it hurt him. "You're gonna kill me."

You slightly opened your legs. "Then die happy."

His mouth was on you before you could blink.

It was devastating.

Bucky licked you like he was starving- slow and deep, savoring every reaction like it was a drug. When his tongue circled your clit, your hips bucked up, and he held you down with that metal arm, groaning against you like he was drunk off the taste.

You moaned, breath hitching. "Jesus, Bucky-"

"You taste so fucking good," he growled, tongue sliding through your folds again. "Could eat you for hours."

Your hands found the short locks of his hair, gripping tightly on what you could. "Then do it."

He did.

Again.

And again.

He didn't stop until your legs were trembling around his shoulders and you were sobbing his name like a prayer. And even then, he kept licking- like he needed every drop of you, like nothing else in the world mattered.

"Fuck, doll-" he slurred, eyes glassy, lips slick and swollen. "You're gonna ruin me."

You pulled him up by his hair and kissed him filthy, tasting your slick on his tongue. "Then let me."

~~~~~

Your mouth was on his, and he moaned into the kiss like he'd already forgotten what air was. His lips moved hungrily against yours, slick with the taste of you, and you drank him in like he was the last thing left in a burning world.

He pulled back slightly, panting, eyes dazed and dark.

"You're-" he cut himself off, swallowing hard. "You're gonna be the death of me, doll."

"You keep saying that like it's a bad thing," you whispered, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He let you pull it off- arms raised, obedient, exposing thick muscle and scars and sweat-slick skin. The heat radiating off him was unbearable. Gorgeous. Alive. He looked like something carved from war and temptation.

"You're shaking," you murmured, brushing your hands across his chest.

His fingers caught your wrist gently, reverently. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Then show me," you breathed, arching your back to meet his skin.

His lips found yours again, but this time slower. More intense. Like he was memorizing the curve of your lips.

When he pulled away, he looked down at your body like he couldn't believe it was real.

"Lie back for me," he rasped. "I need to see you."

So, you did.

He dragged his metal fingers up your thigh, over your hip, your ribs, your breast. Every inch he touched felt branded. Worshipped.

"You're perfect," he murmured, voice breaking on the word like it physically hurt him to say it. "I've never wanted anything this bad."

Then he was between your legs again- but this time, his hand replaced his mouth. Two thick fingers slid into you, slow and deep, as his mouth returned to your breast, licking and sucking until you let out a gasp.

"Bucky-"

"Fuck, your pussy has me gone," he groaned, curling his fingers just right. "You feel so good. So fucking wet."

You whined, clawing at his back. "Please- please just-"

He pulled his fingers out and stared at the slick coating them, then sucked them into his mouth with a low groan that made you clench around nothing.

"I'm gonna fuck you now," he said, voice shaking. "And I'm not going to last long. Not after that."

"Then don't," you whispered, hooking your legs around his waist. "Just give it to me."

He lined up and pressed in slow, inch by inch, like he was trying to savor every second.

You both moaned at the stretch- thick and deep, perfect and maddening.

"Oh my God," you gasped. "You're so fucking big."

"You can take it," he panted, gripping your hips. "You're already taking it so well, fuck- look at you."

He bottomed out and stayed there, breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours.

"I'm so deep in you," he whispered. "I can't think. I can't fucking breathe."

You kissed him- needy, messy, lost- and then he started to move.

It was pure filth.

Bucky fucked you like he'd waited years for it. Like he was trying to memorize how you sounded, how you tightened around him, how you begged when he hit just the right spot. The room echoed with skin and breath and the soft, desperate noises he pulled from you.

"I'm never gonna stop thinking about this," he groaned. "How tight you are, how wet. I'm losing my goddamn mind."

"You feel so good," you cried, nails dragging down his back. "You're so deep-"

He grabbed your legs and pushed them back, deeper now, harder, his eyes wild.

"This pussy's got me fucking drunk," he hissed, kissing your throat. "What the fuck are you doing to me?"

You whimpered, high and wrecked. "Then come for me, Bucky. Come inside me. Fill me up."

His rhythm faltered. He buried his face in your neck with a broken moan.

"Oh, fuck- fuck, I'm-"

He came with a groan that sounded like your name and something holy all at once. His hips stuttered, grinding against yours, keeping you full and trembling.

When he finally collapsed on top of you, both of you were shaking- wrecked, breathless, clinging to each other like you'd found something world dying for.

For a moment, all you could hear was the fan whirring overhead and the rush of your heart in your eyes.

Then quietly-

"I wasn't kidding," Bucky murmured, voice hoarse and full of awe. "You've ruined me."

You weakly stroked a hand through his hair. "Good."

~~~~~~

You didn't know how long you stayed like that- entwined, skin pressed to sweat-slick skin, hearts pounding against each other's chests. Every time you shifted beneath him, you felt the slow, sweet drag of him still inside you.

Bucky didn't move.

His face was buried against your neck, lips brushing your skin with every exhale. Like he couldn't stop touching you, even in rest. His metal arm curled under your back, pulling you close with a protectiveness so instinctive it made your heart ache.

Eventually, he lifted his head just enough to meet your gaze.

"You okay?" He murmured, eyes still hazy with the aftermath.

You smiled, thumb brushing sweat from his cheek. "More than okay."

Something flickered in his expression- relief, affection, something unspoken and too big for the space between words. His gaze dropped to your lips. Then lower.

He eased out of you slowly, almost reluctantly. You shivered at the loss, at the soft spill of him, and he kissed your temple like an apology.

"Let me take care of you," he said quietly.

You didn't answer- you just let him go.

Bucky disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, he had a warmth cloth, a towel, and hands so gentle it nearly broke you. He cleaned you like you were something fragile. Like touching you too roughly would undo everything you'd just given him.

You watched him through heavy-lidded eyes.

No one had ever touched you like that.

Not like you were a body- but a gift.

After, he climbed back into bed, tugging you against his chest. His heartbeat was slower now, but not calm. Still wild beneath the surface.

Your fingers traced the lines of metal and scar along his arm, settling in the dip where synthetic met flesh.

"You always this intense?" You teased gently.

Bucky gave a hoarse laugh. "Not usually. You... you're different I guess."

You looked up. "Different how?"

He paused.

"I've had sex," he said slowly. "But I've never had this. I've never looked at someone and thought, God, if they asked me to stay forever, I'd do it."

Your breath caught. "Bucky-"

"I'm not saying it to scare you," he said quickly. "I just... I've never felt that hungry. That alive. Not even before the war."

You reached for his face and kissed him softly, slow and deep. Like a promise. Like thanks.

He rolled on top of you again, slower this time, cradling your jaw in your hand.

"Can I?" He asked, voice rough.

You nodded.

This time, he moved like he was making love to you. Like he needed to feel every inch of your skin, every breath, every tremble. The kind of slow that makes time dissolve. That leaves you wide open, aching, full of something deeper than just lust.

He held eye contact the whole time.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of this. Of you."

You cried out softly when he hit a deeper angle, legs wrapping around his torso.

He moaned- deep and low- and kissed you again.

No rush. No frenzy.

Just you and Bucky and the long, slow burn of something you could both drown in. When you came again, he held you through it, whispering your name like a prayer. He followed soon after, shaking, his face pressed to your shoulder, his body heavy with need and surrender.

When it was over, he stayed there, still inside you, breathing hard.

Neither of you spoke for a long time.

You didn't need to.

He fell asleep with your fingers laced in his, his arm wrapped tight around your waist.

And when the sun rose over the city, Bucky was still there.

Still holding you like he had nowhere else in the world to be.

~~~~~

The first thing you felt was warmth.

Soft sunlight filtered through the window, casting golden lines across your bare skin. The sheets were twisted around your chest, warm and worn, and the smell of him- clean soap, sweat, and something deeply masculine- lingered on your body like he'd marked you.

Bucky was already awake.

He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, gazing down at you like you were a dream he didn't quite believe was real. His dark hair was messy, falling over his forehead. The stubble on his jaw looked more dangerous in the light.

But it was his eyes that made your breath hitch.

Soft. Reverent. A little dazed.

"Morning," you rasped, voice hoarse from sleep... and other things.

He smiled, small and crooked. "Hey."

You stretched, and he watched every inch of skin as it moved, the way the sheet shifted down your body to pool beneath your breasts. His tongue darted out, like he was physically stopping himself from kissing you again.

"You're staring," you teased.

He didn't even try to deny it.

"Can you blame me?" He murmured, hand drifting to your waist. "I woke up with you naked beside me, still warm and wrecked from last night."

You flushed, arousal stirring again far too easily. "You're not helping me recover."

"Who said I want you to?" His fingers traced circles on your skin. "I didn't sleep much. Kept waking up just to make sure this wasn't a dream."

You reached for him, pulling him down until his mouth brushed yours. "It wasn't."

He kissed you gently. Once. Then, again, slower.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked quietly against your lips.

Your heart ached at the way he asked it- so careful, so unguarded.

"No," you said, pulling him fully on top of you. "You made me feel... everything."

He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing in deep like he needed to ground himself.

"Good," he said. "Because I don't think I've ever wanted someone this much."

You smiled, thumbing over his bottom lip. "Prove it."

That was all it took.

Bucky rolled his hips into you, half-hard already, his body hungry in that slow, aching way that came from deep affection. From the thrill of knowing you could have more, again, forever.

But before it could go further-

Knock knock knock.

"Hey!" Sam's voice cut through the room like a blade. "You decent or do I need to bleach my eyes out?!"

You both froze.

Bucky let out a groan so deep it could've shaken the bed frame. He buried his face in your chest like it might erase reality.

You bit back a laugh. "You didn't tell him?"

"I told him I was crashing here," Bucky muttered into your skin. "I didn't tell him I was doing it naked with the woman he told me not to flirt with."

You raised an eyebrow. "He told you that?"

"Oh yeah. First week I met you, actually."

"Was that before or after you imagined my legs over your shoulders?"

Bucky gave you a look. "Before."

You laughed, swatting his chest. "You're so dead."

"Only if he hears you moaning my name again." He kissed the corner of your mouth, teasing, smug. "Though if he busts in, we could just show him what he's missing."

"BUCKY!"

"What? I'm kidding. Mostly."

You grabbed a pillow and hit him with it, giggling.

From the hallway, Sam shouted, "If you two don't open up, I'll call Shuri!"

That sobered Bucky immediately. "Oh my god, get dressed."

You were both still laughing as you scrambled to throw on clothes, Bucky kissing your shoulder every few seconds, unable to stop touching you even in the rush. He looked happier than you'd ever seen him- wild-haired, grinning, flushed with affection.

As you pulled on your shirt, he stopped you.

"Wait."

You turned, breath catching at the softness in his gaze.

He stepped forward and kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

"I meant what I said," he muttered. "About staying."

You smiled. "So stay."

~~~~~

"So." Sam sipped his orange juice slowly, eyes flicking between you and Bucky over the rim of his glass. "Either you both got laid last night or one of you suddenly discovered how to smile."

Bucky didn't even flinch. He just cut into his stack of pancakes like Sam hadn't just called him out in the middle of a bustling cafe. You tried to hide your grin behind your coffee.

"We slept fine," you said, the most noncommittal answer possible.

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Uh huh. And I'm Steve Rodgers."

Bucky's mouth quirked.

You gently kicked his shin under the table. Don't.

He kicked back. What? I didn't say anything.

But you could see it all over his face- how different he looked this morning. Relaxed. Confident. Still riding the high of having you fall apart under him twice. His hand rested on your thigh under the table, completely unapologetic.

Sam caught the way you shifted in your seat and raised an eyebrow. "You good?"

"Great," you said, supping your coffee.

Bucky smirked wider and you shot him a glare.

Sam leaned back. "Well, I hope you stretched first. She's flexible, but if you throw your back out again, I'm not taking you to physical therapy."

You choked on your drink.

Bucky, the bastard that he was, didn't even blink. "Appreciate your concern."

It was a miracle you made it through the meal without combusting.

But it didn't end there.

Under the table, Bucky's thumb traced slow circles on the inside of your thigh. Every time you spoke, every time you laughed at something Sam said, his fingers crept a little higher. Teasing. Possessive.

You leaned into him when Sam got up to grab more napkins.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

Bucky tilted his head, voice a soft purr against your ear. "Trying to remind you that I'm still thinking about last night. About how wet you were. How you were begging."

You inhaled sharply.

"If you keep touching me," you said, voice low, "I'm going to drag you into that bathroom and ride you until you forget your name."

His pupils dilated so fast you saw it happen.

"Be right back," Bucky said suddenly, standing so quickly his chair scraped the floor.

You blinked, stunned. "Wait-"

He grabbed your wrist as he passed.

"Bathroom. Now."

~~~~~

You barely got the door locked before he had you pressed against it, mouth on your throat, hands already under your shirt.

"This is insane," you gasped, fumbling at his belt.

"Uh-huh," Bucky agreed, dragging his hand up your thigh. "I need you, sweetheart."

You didn't even try to argue.

He lifted you effortlessly, one hand on your ass, the other steadying you as he lined up and slid inside in one deep, slick stroke. You moaned into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you again- so thick, so perfect, so Bucky.

"God, I missed this already," he growled, thrusting up into you. "Missed being inside you. You feel so- Fuck- so good, doll."

You clung to him, your body already trembling.

It was fast. Desperate. Raw.

You came around him with a rush, gasping into his shoulder, and Bucky followed with a strangled groan, spilling inside you with a shudder.

Afterward, he held you close, forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathing hard.

"We're so bad at brunch," you whispered.

"Worth it."

~~~~~

Back at the table, Sam returned to find your seats empty. He looked around and sighed.

Then texted you:

Both of you hydrate. You're not very subtle, you know. Unbelievable.

You never lived it down.

But judging by the way Bucky kissed you hand under the table when you returned- and the stupid grin that wouldn't leave your face- you wouldn't have changed a thing.

[i-have-no-idea-for-name]

I can do about 10,000 essays about how bad the polish translation of Dog man is and how much I want to sue the person responsible for it, seriously people, if you need someone to translate Dog man so that people don't have to wash their eyes with domestos after reading them, I am at your service and I'll even do it for free so that we all don't have to suffer anymore

and can someone explain to me why they made Munchy a girl here?

they kept talking to him in the female form, saying "ma'am" and when I read it in polish I was like - wait, that was a girl? and when I read it again but this time I had an audiobook in english on my earphones and my suspicions were confirmed cause I felt that something didn't fit and in the original Munchy was male, I don't know why there was such a change but I suspect that it could have been because the word "torba (bag)" in polish has a female form and that's why they changed his gender but for me it's still idiotic cause they could have changed his name to "Mniamcio" or "Mniamuś" or something like that so that it would have a male form

You'll probably tell me now "stop being so dramatic, they're just children's books, the translation doesn't have to be that accurate" okay, so maybe now you'll explain to me why I find swear words in these books?

here they decided to replace the word "cops" with "suka" which literally means "bitch"

here the Fair Fairy says the word "kurna" which just like "kurwa", "kuźwa", "kurła" is a curse word, interestingly, in the season 2 of tetocu I caught this word twice, once said by Harold and once by Krupp and they said it very clearly

and here, where Petey said "diarrhea" in polish he almost said "sraczka" and then corrected it to "biegunka", both words mean the same but "sraczka" is vulgar cause it's taken from the word "srać (to shit)"

I understand that the polish language is known for having more curse words in the dictionary than normal words (we have over 300 curse words, this is not a joke) but that dosen't mean that we have to stuff them into CHILDREN'S BOOKS. AND THEN WONDER WHY EVERY SECOND WORD SPOKEN BY 10-YEAR-OLDS IN MY SCHOOL IS A CURSE

I think I really need to make one big post about these translations, or just send it to the publisher or wherever I need to so that they can fire this man who's making me suffer...

[cosmowgyral]

The Lying Fox is filled with a Love free of Lies

▪︎ Harrison's 3rd Birthday

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated but do not repost. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2

The day before Harry’s birthday—

Kate: Today’s present… is this!

I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and stood proudly, satisfied with my work.

Harry’s eyes sparkled as he took in the sight of the mountain of sweets spread across the kitchen counter.

There was jelly, pudding, biscuits, scones—and the grand finale, the annual tradition: a cake.

Harrison: You made all of this?

Kate: Yes! The chefs and maids all pitched in and helped me out.

Among everything, the showstopper was the seven-tiered cake—each layer filled with a different fruit.

We all worked together to stack it carefully, making sure it didn’t collapse along the way.

Harrison: With this much… we’ll still be eating tomorrow.

He looked like an excited little kid, eyes shining with joy. I couldn’t help but laugh as I handed him a fork.

Kate: Even Victor ended up helping when he saw how hard we were working on it.

Kate: We all discussed it a lot and kept doing trial runs together.

Harry, who had been indecisively scanning the lineup of sweets, suddenly paused.

Harrison: ...All of you, huh. With that old man, too.

He shot me a sharp look, his expression clearly displeased.

But—

Harrison: Well, whatever. You made all this stuff I love… so I won’t complain.

With a sigh, he turned his gaze back to the sweets, his eyes sparkling again.

I picked up a knife and plate and asked him with a smile...

Kate: So, which one do you want to try first?

Harrison: Which ones did you make?

Kate: The cake… and…

Harrison: Then feed me that one.

He set down his fork, turned his gaze toward me, and smirked—mouth slightly open, waiting.

I scooped up a bite of cake and gently brought it to his lips.

Kate: How is it?

Harry licked the cream from his lip with his thumb and gave a satisfied hum.

Harrison: Mmh, it’s good. But it tastes even better ‘cause you made it.

Harrison: Here.

Kate: Mmh—

He leaned in and stole a kiss.

The sweetness of the sugar spread through my mouth, and as his lips pulled away, I couldn’t help but smile.

Kate: Hehe… it’s delicious.

Then, suddenly, he slipped his hands under my arms and lifted me up.

Startled, I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck as he laughed and set me down on an empty space at the edge of the counter.

Harrison: One more…

Kate: Mmh… haa…

His lips returned, kissing me again—pulling away, only to change angles and kiss me once more.

Harrison: Your lips are sweet.

Kate: So are yours, Harry…

We both giggled softly, wrapped in the warmth of the sunset pouring through the window.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the cake tinged in red from the sunlight.

Before I could say anything, Harry scooped up some cream with his finger and dabbed it on the tip of my nose.

Harrison: Pfft… You’re too cute.

Kate: Hey—where do you think you’re putting that—?

Harrison: ...Kate.

Kate: Eep—!

The sweet smile on his face deepened—then, suddenly, he leaned in and gently nibbled my nose.

He licked the cream away with his tongue, then pointed to his lips next.

Harrison: Next… give me some here.

Smiling, I closed my eyes and accepted his sugar-sweet kiss.

And after that—

To my surprise, Harry ended up eating almost all the sweets by himself.

[Chapter 1] [Masterlist] [Chapter 3]

➽──────────────❥

didn't diabetes exist back then? 😭

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

My Captivating Archenemy (Kagari)

Alt Title: The One I Can't Stop Thinking About Is My Archenemy/He Who Caught My Heart Is My Nemesis

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Sunlight poured into the bookstore as a familiar, adorable visitor trotted in.

Black Cat: "Meow."

Emma: "Oh, hey. Back again, huh?"

When I crouched down to greet it, the black cat—as always—turned its back to me.

I didn't even need to check to know what was tucked into that tiny backpack it carried.

Emma: "I appreciate the delivery, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the right place."

Black Cat: "Meow!"

Emma: "Ahh, sorry, sorry! I'll take it right away!"

Spurred on by its insistent meowing, I quickly pulled out the message card.

It was yet another calling card from the phantom thief who's been making waves around town.

(This time, he's targeting a brooch.)

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Kyaah!"

A soft, fleeting scent drifted past me just as Kagari suddenly appeared behind me.

(He always shows up out of nowhere. I swear he does it on purpose.)

I clutched my chest, trying to calm my pounding heart.

Emma: "Afternoon, Kagari."

Kagari: "Hello. So, did the calling card show up?"

Emma: "Yes. Looks like he's planning to hit the marquis’ estate tomorrow."

(Still, why does the phantom thief always send these to me?)

(Judging by the cat's behavior, it's not like they got the address wrong.)

(Maybe the thief just likes being chased?)

Kagari: "Your detective work is as busy as ever, I see."

Emma: "Well, the bookshop's doing okay too, you know?"

(We've even got a few royal court clients—so, not too shabby.)

Kagari: "Okay, huh? I guess everyone's got their own definition of that."

His green eyes slowly scanned the empty shop.

(Ugh, he's really not cutting me any slack.)

Kagari: "Anyway, you haven't forgotten why I'm here, have you?"

Emma: "Of course not. You said you'd swing by today to try the dorayaki."

Kagari: "Good job, princess. Let's go."

Emma: "W-Wait! Can we at least drop this off with the patrol guards first?!"

After somehow managing to deliver the card, Kagari took me to his shop and treated me to a dorayaki so amazing it was hard to believe it was just a test batch.

(Honestly, it tasted good enough to sell in stores.)

Across from me, Kagari took a sip of green tea, then tilted his head like he'd just remembered something.

Kagari: "Are you going to meet the phantom thief again tonight?"

Emma: "I'm going to catch him."

Emma: "Also, the patrol officers asked me to."

Even if they hadn't asked, I still would've had to go.

Kagari: "I see. That's good."

(Why did he suddenly seem kinda happy?)

(Did he just want the thief to be caught quickly?)

(The thief…)

Emma: "I wonder what kind of person he really is."

Kagari: "Probably someone who likes dorayaki."

Emma: "Hehe. If that's true, maybe you two could get along."

The image that popped into my head was the silhouette I'd seen so many times before—swift, fading into the shadows, never letting anyone get a clear look.

Emma: "There's no pattern to what he steals, and nothing's shown up on the market either."

Emma: "The only common thread is that his targets all seem to have shady rumors trailing behind them."

Kagari: "I can see why the phantom thief has so many supporters."

(I know stealing is wrong, but somehow, I can't think of the thief as a villain.)

Kagari: "By the way, I find it surprising that you always show up at the scene as soon as you get a card—even when no one asks you to."

Emma: "It's personal. I've got a reason for chasing him."

Kagari: "This is the first I've heard of it."

Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed both my wrists across the table.

(He's gripping them so tightly—I can't even move.)

Kagari: "What's your reason for chasing him? Tell me."

The heat of his hands and the intensity of his gaze made my heart race.

Emma: "That's a secret… but there's something I do want to say to him."

(It's something personal—I doubt the phantom thief even remembers.)

(Still, it's strange for Kagari to be this curious.)

(That's weird—the window's open, but it's starting to get hot in here.)

Kagari: "Something you want to say?"

Kagari: "Princess, don't tell me—you've got a thing for the thief? Are you going to confess to him...?"

Emma: "No! I'm not!"

Kagari: "Really, really not?"

Emma: "Really, really not."

Kagari: "Really, really, really not?"

Emma: "Really, really, really not. I would never lie to you."

Kagari: "Good. That's all I needed to hear."

His grip loosened just a little, but he was still holding my hands.

Instead of feeling relieved, I felt this warm, fluttery feeling bubbling up in my chest.

(I'm glad he believes me, but now I'm thinking weird stuff.)

Kagari: "Losing a dorayaki buddy would be a serious tragedy for me."

(Wait—that's what he was worried about!?)

His reason—so perfectly him—made me smile.

But deep down, I felt the faintest pang of disappointment.

I quickly pushed the thought away.

Kagari: "………"

Emma: "Kagari?"

Kagari: "It's nothing."

Kagari: "I hope you manage to get your message to the phantom thief."

Emma: "Yeah! I'm gonna do my best!"

With Kagari cheering me on, I threw myself even harder into catching the thief.

From then on, every time a new warning card arrived, I rushed straight to the scene.

Soldier: "The brooch is gone!"

Emma: "But we blocked every exit!"

......

Thief: "Maybe you'd have better luck chasing me in a carriage?"

(He's so fast! He's already that far ahead!)

......

Thief: "I'm taking this with me."

Emma: "Wait!"

.......

Thief: "........."

(There's no way I can catch him. He's way too fast.)

His figure grew smaller and smaller as he disappeared into the distance.

Still, I pushed myself to run harder.

Lately, the thief's escape speed had become insanely fast.

No matter how much we tightened security, he always slipped right through.

(I could tell from the get-go he was just messing with me.)

I remembered how he'd stop like a cat, glance back, and smirk—like this whole chase was a game to him.

(It's weird. I'm a detective, but instead of getting frustrated, I just feel kinda lonely.)

Emma: "-----!"

(Crap!)

I tripped over a dip in the ground and went flying forward.

I tried to catch myself, but I couldn't stop the momentum.

Just as I braced for impact—

Emma: "Ah!"

Thief: "Clumsy little detective, aren't you?"

I found myself in the thief's arms.

(He came all the way back to catch me?)

(No, wait.)

Confused, I tried to look up to see his face.

But before I could, something blocked my view—and I felt warm breath against my neck.

Thief: "Your stubbornness deserves full marks."

Emma: "!?"

A sharp little pain pricked my neck, making my whole body shudder.

(Did he just bite me?!)

Before I could even try to break free, he let go, gave a playful wave from a distance, and then melted into the shadows.

(He got away again.)

(.........)

I didn't feel disappointed.

More than anything, my mind was overwhelmed by one thought—

(That just now…)

[forsaken-headcanons]

very long yap about my builderman hcs

(my interest with Roblox in general leaks into my Forsaken hcs so here is a link to a very old blog post so that you have context for the whole Lua thing: https://blog.haydz6.com/2007/02/encyclopedia-robloxica | Luatongue is a hc name I have for it but it basically means the same thing dw about it)

also, "^" means that a hc is related to the one(s) above it in some way

okay that's out of the way! come on everypony let's get started!!! /silly

------

-Has a southern accent. It's not thick but it is noticeable. 

-Decently muscular.

-His physical body looks like a middle-aged dude, but Builder has existed for an insane amount of time. The Admins are not gods, but they aren't regular mortals either. 

-Was the first Admin. He actually created the admins as a group, along with Roblox HQ to keep some semblance of peace in Robloxia. Before the admins, Robloxia was an incredibly chaotic and dangerous place, with hackers, exploiters, mythical creatures, aliens, demons, angels, deities, gods, and a million other things running around doing whatever they wanted. The admins and Roblox HQ are like the SCP foundation but to a lesser extent. They don't go out of their way to deal with the supernatural, as they also function as the law/government, but they do try to keep the insane reality breaking dudes away from the general populace. 

-Builderman is really, REALLY good at Luatongue. This in addition to his creative thinking made him extremely powerful pre-Forsakening. He may have looked like a normal Robloxian, but he was an admin mainly because he was born with what was essentially divine knowledge that translated to god-like powers. However, when The Spectre took him to its realm, it made him forget nearly all of the Lua he knew, causing him to lose a nearly all of his power. 

-^Despite his extreme natural proficiency with Lua, Builderman is not the prophet, as he isn't able to effectively share what it means with others. Lua is less of a "language" and more of a way that the beings within Robloxia can manipulate the very fabric of Robloxia itself. For anyone who isn't the prophet, telling someone who doesn't have a natural connection to Luatongue how to use it is nearly impossible. It's not even known how the prophet is supposed to share Lua with Robloxia, only that they will have some special ability to do so. 

-^Has notes that he works on periodically of what he can remember about Luatongue. Usually, "working" on these notes entails him sitting somewhere racking his brain for any scraps of it he can remember, jotting it down, and then pondering over the notes to try and gain back more memories of it. 

-^Builderman's knowledge of Lua was among one of the few things that The Spectre couldn't directly prevent the forsaken robloxians from using. The Spectre may be an extremely powerful entity, but it is, by a long shot, not powerful enough to override the code that is the very foundation of the universe. It had actually written off getting a hold of Builderman completely before it got the idea to make him forget Luatongue, and even that was extremely difficult for it, especially since he fought back against being taken by The Spectre, which it wasn't used to it's victims being strong enough to do so. The only reason it managed to pull it off was because Builderman was so focused on his fight with The Spectre and simultaneously resisting it's attempts to transport him to it's realm, that he didn't realize that Spectre was altering his mind as well until it was too late.

-Builderman cannot directly destroy things with Lua; he is only able to create. It's easy for him to work around this because he can just. create something destructive. But Builderman can't straight up use Luatongue to destroy. 

-When he was younger, he created a "focus" item of sorts. It was a trowel, and while it looked normal, it had a certain energy to it. Builderman created the trowel because while he had an unheard of ability to use Lua, he didn't have fine control over his powers. Without the trowel, he can make a wall. With his trowel, he can make a castle-sized wall, or a wall fit for a dollhouse, or even a regular wall the size of what would be in a house, of any color imaginable, and made out of whatever he'd like. 

-^ a secondary thing the trowel does: anyone holding it will be able to walk in the air at will. When he made the trowel, Builderman gave it this property so that he'd be able to get better views on whatever it was he was making at the moment. After he started taking on the role of the regulator of Robloxia, it turned out that being able to basically fly was really useful. 

-^sometimes when he was younger and just messing around, he'd stand like. Fully horizontally in the air just for the laughs. #1 at the lying down game /j 

-^obviously, he doesn't have his trowel with him in The Spectre's realm. Builderman had a deep emotional attachment to it, and misses it sometimes. 

-Even without the use of his weird god-language-powers, Builderman is really good with tech and engineering-type stuff. 

-He naturally has the general vibe of a leader, and this combined with his role pre-Forsakening means that the survivors will nearly always listen to him and do what he says. The other admins also have some authority, but he's got the most. 

BUILDERMAN HEADCANONS WOOHOOOO!!!! he 100% has a slight southern accent. He feels like the type of guy to have one.

[cheshireliam]

Ring Schwartz 2nd Birthday Campaign: Letter

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

A Thank You For My Birthday, And A Request

I’m sure I’ve never had what you call a “normal” birthday.

So… umm… I’m sorry if I didn't express my joy very well.

I don't want you worrying about that, so I’m writing you this letter.

Just remember it’s not that I hated it, or that I wasn't happy.

Also, I have a request. Umm… tell me your birthday.

You only have to tell me once, I won’t ever forget it. So if you don't mind, please.

— Ring Schwartz

[gothicdolores]

Spoilers for killer of killers LOOK AWAY MY LOVES

Having said that;

How are the bad blood girlies and gays feeling cuz yall fucking won I feel 😖😖😖 yes we don’t quite have their clans affiliation confirmed but given that Dan took some of the only best parts of Predators and The Predator I’m wiling to bet there’s something there that will finally give us some bad blood lore beyond the books and comics

Alot of how they operate doesnt really feel all that honorable, and bet that this could just be the new status quo, but Ive said time and time again Dan is very deliberate with that he does w the yautja so far. I don't feel as if he's turning his nose up at the extended lore, but that he likes playing with parts that keep being pushed to the outskirts of canon and given them a proper moment

To include something from what looks to be a proper yautja codex that can be interpreted many ways is genius "go amongst the starts and seek out the most worthy prey, become the killer of Killers" that sounds very standard to what weve seen yautja do! Going out and finding the best - and it's only been one specific group that's taken that mission to mean literally take them

Now we got this opportunity to explore the fact that different yautja are interpreting that message differently and that's 👀 oh so interesting

Translator device babes HERE IS YOUR TROPHY CUZ DAMN LOOK AT THAT COLLAR THING

The fact that it translates yautja but not inter-human languages feels so........poignant idk to me it's always been apparent that in they KNOW humans are crafty and in a pack? Deadly, that's why it's always been a thing to pick out one from a group, going one on one

Which again lends itself to this idea that this particular tribe might not be on the up and up, as the idea that the humans refuse to fight each other seems to confuse them and king Daddy's only solution to that is to blow them up before the good folks around him start catching or empathy cooties

IM JUST SAYING

And I know a lot of folks hate when the yautja die, but the last few movies have made it look like that's a shitty thing to do, when, if done right, reminds us why these guys are obsessed with us in the first place

Not to be all The Indomitable Human Spirit but they have left survivors alone in the past BECAUSE we prove we are indestructible gremlins who won't stop until we literally drop. The yautja of the earlier movies weren't meant to be particularly heroic (but damn are they hot 🥵) but we could respect them on the grounds that they had limits and rules and respected us when we met certain criteria.

Scar, wolf, cruci, fugitive are more far nobler yautja in contrast, so of course we don't want THEM to die, but we mightve lost the reason why we actually want some of them to live if we get upset when every random asshole dies

me personally I love seeing yautja doing some dumbass thing and biting it THATS WHY I LIKE THEM they fuck up, they bleed, that's why I think Dan made it a point for the Clan Leader or whatever to be double teamed by our humans because at the end of the day 👀 hey man if your going to be axed by three little humans maybe you shouldn't be our leader MAYBE IDK

Which brings me to the other thing that's scratching my brain: I truly think this particular group of yautja are just straight up stealing other clans kills

The yautja guards and everyone directly around and taking orders from Gunnar have a very distinct look. I know some are saying the three yautja from the three stories share a trait but I straight up don't see it at all. They're all varied and weird. These hunters fell to their prey and their prey was picked up after the fact - particularly Torres

Bare with me; Ursa's yautja relied so heavily on their prosthetic that it was almost a crutch that she could take advantage of, I didn't find anything particularly weird about the ninja/samurais hunter outside of their facial appearance which could just be a variance, but the dogfight hunter did all that for shits and giggles, there was no way he could've gotten trophies from that, I truly think that yautja was a badblood who was feeling himself

But Torres was literally back home and long since awarded when he was hunted down. That was SO LONG after his fight that I feel like this group just looks up anyone who bested a yautja before and snatches them up. And it tries to the fact that in the credits for Prey, Naru is seen facing down a yautja ship the same as torres

I feel ursa and the samurai had the same experience of "winning" but getting snatched up at some later point - which leads me to say my next words not lightly:

I think this clan of yautja, if not bad bloods, operate like poachers

These aren't big game hunters, these aren't the yautja we've run in before, I truly believe this particular clan poach other yautja's prey and claim them for their own

Gunnar is very showman-y, he knows his people want blood and excitement, he offers himself as the ultimate opponent because if he didn't have the gonads to put himself on the line, why would anyone follow him, he's very glitzy and glamorous but in a yuatjan way. A single "winner" wouldn't cause him any trouble, so it's easy to say hell fight them, but we've seen a FAIR fight would absolutely make him look bad.

...the crops circles were cute btw

But anyway, all those parked yautja ships? This place might look like it's on yautja prime but I live in Vegas and I know a rave when I see it, these folks were out here for a good time not a long time

These yautja are carnies I SAID WHAT I SAID

They take what entertainment they find and dress it up nice but you can't tell me something wasnt off about this whole operation, there is a reason why these yautja freeze their prey instead of letting them go and I don't believe it's because Dan is making any sweeping changes to the more I really don't. He has his OC on the front lines, I will follow Naru anywhere

But what a delight guys! I could actually go on such a tangent about so much but these are my initial thoughts; by all means come scream at me or with me I have time tonight to enjoy it either way

[adachimoe]

Expanding on the part of this post near the end where it talks about the scene in Magatsu Inaba where everyone engages in verbal turn-based combat against Adachi and gets to say their piece.

To recap / reiterate, Amenosagiri tells us that the moment when humans show a desire for the truth, it causes the Shadows to go nutso on people, and the party identifies that's why Shadows attack people:

Adachi is the Investigation Team's collective Shadow, and their confrontation with him mirrors this idea. He gets a glowy purple aura, gets yellow eyes, his name changes to "Other Adachi" (in Japanese anyway; it doesn't change in English), then Yukiko/Yosuke/Naoto get to take turns dunking on him, and he goes nutso and attacks the group, finally initiating his boss fight.

I'd like to focus on who gets to talk here, and what they say.

Chie, Rise, and Kanji all say things to Adachi as well, but they say it to him before he gets the glowy aura and derpy eyes. Chie just does not understand this guy or why he became an officer, Rise thinks he's full of shit, and Kanji more-or-less tells him to "go disappear" after hearing that he wants everyone else to disappear.

I think it's appropriate and more meaningful that Yukiko, Yosuke, and Naoto get to tell off Adachi and trigger him going nutso and attacking the group. As arguably, they're the ones who have been most affected by his bullshit: Yukiko's family inn is where Mayumi disappeared from, Naoto is the private detective working on the case, and Yosuke has his crush on Saki. And not only the three of them getting to say this, but also what they get to say to Adachi reflects their own story arcs...

Yukiko's Shadow targets her inaction and the idea of "living without being alive" (I'm not gonna go into that here but I talked about it in regards to Adachi in the post this was reblogged from), and Yukiko throws that concept at Adachi. (Also, I would recommend reading this about the translation of what Yukiko says in Magatsu Inaba.)

Naoto and her Shadow talk about Naoto's own loneliness and being found a nuisance by adults.

And to Adachi, Naoto tells him that humans are not meant to be alone. Furthermore, despite like Adachi being the adult (one who called her a kid and assumed she ran off and threw a tantrum after being removed from the police investigation, even!), he is a total pain in the ass himself.

Lastly, Yosuke brings up Adachi being "favored by the world", or I guess another way to phrase this is "chosen one".

(Idk if this is obvious in English or not cause it seems to be worded a bit differently all 3 times it comes up, but Yosuke is echoing what Adachi says when they confront him on December 7th. Yosuke also asks about it after, so it appears to have been something on his mind.)

When you think back to Yosuke's confrontation with his Shadow, it targets him wanting to play hero. This is further compounded by the meta knowledge that Atlus picked Jiraiya as Yosuke's first Persona specifically because Jiraiya was a Robin Hood-esque / hero of the people figure who believed himself to be a chosen one.

(I'm going to be honest... I've never read Jiraiya Monogatari, but this is what Atlus said about why his Persona is Jiraiya, so even if it's completely wrong lol, it's still what they had in mind.)

So, Yosuke tells Adachi that he's no chosen one, he's just a criminal.

Up until now, we've mostly seen the Investigation Team confront their own Shadows. With Adachi, this scene is notably structured differently. The Investigation Team tell their Shadows "You're not me!", and this phrase acts as a kind of symbol for them wanting the truth. (If you notice, the very last phrase the Shadow says before the inevitable freak out is usually something that ends up being extremely wrong about that character, even if everything else it says is true. For example, Yosuke might have wanted to be a hero, but I think his Shadow saying that he was using Saki's death as an excuse -- like implying he didn't actually care about her -- doesn't seem accurate for what we learn about his character in the rest of the story and his social link. Or for Yukiko, her Shadow disses the inn before Yukiko tells it to fuck off, and we know that Yukiko really does care about the inn, she just doesn't want to feel like it's her only option.)

With Adachi, he has this whole segment beforehand where he yaps about a ton of shit and the pitfalls of society. But the Investigation Team doesn't buy into what he says. What causes him to freak out and attack them isn't being told "You're not me!", it's him being told some truths about himself. They have heard what he has to say, thought it was all stupid, and show their desire for the truth by instead telling him some truths about himself.

Everything that Yukiko, Naoto, and Yosuke tell him has to have some semblance of truth to it for Adachi to freak out after and attack them. (Or uh I think that's how this works?) And when you think about it... Yeah, he seems stuck and he isn't exactly doing much about it, he is throwing a tantrum, he is lonely and running from his humanity (omg he literally ran away from them in a hospital and into a TV), he is a dumb criminal. No objections here.

I don't think I've really talked much about my opinion on Persona 4's like... writing on some kind of meta level or as a critique...?, but I rather liked this scene. And whether it was intentional or not lol, I think Atlus executed the concept of "the killer is the Investigation Team's Shadow" pretty well. Depending on how you see the characters, there are definitely attributes of theirs you can assign to him as well. And narratively, it's also the last "man vs man" conflict in the story before it turns into "man vs god", while also being about Adachi against himself.

Anyway Adachi is really cringe.

A long and meandering post about Adachi and the Investigation Team

I have no idea what to title or describe this as. This is a long ass rambling 2.5k+ word post that consists of like 5 drafts I had sitting around that all felt somewhat related. It starts with the part where the Investigation Team tells Adachi to get over himself, then devolves into talking about Adachi punching himself in the face repeatedly (metaphorically), before ending by exploring the idea of Adachi as the Investigation Team's collective Shadow. it rly is tl;dr.

Adachi will remember that

At one point in Magatsu Inaba, the Investigation Team takes turns responding to Adachi in verbal turn-based combat. They all have varying responses and levels of understanding of him.

Chie doesn't understand why Adachi even became a cop, Rise thinks he's full of shit, Kanji tells him a 2008 version of "go kys" (tbf, he's never been eloquent with words), Yukiko tells Adachi that he sounds like a kid, Naoto calls him out for finding life annoying while being a damn annoyance, and Yosuke tells him he's just a criminal.

What Yukiko says to him in particular appears to sting Adachi, evident by how he "!" emotes in reaction to her. Or idk maybe he's secretly into getting bullied by women. I think Yukiko has Adachi's number here, and he knows that. After all, part of his schtick is that, "Oh, you stupid fuckin' kids, you don't know what I've been through or how I feel! Get off my dungeon lawn!!!" And yet, one of those stupid kids is able to tl;dr his life, and even says, "no u -- you're the stupid kid" back at him. He later even repeats what she said back at Sho during Ultimax.

What Yukiko says here, I think, stands out in particular not just because of Adachi's reaction but also because it resembles a sentiment found in other media: The contradiction of being alive while not "truly" being alive. This often goes like so: A character can be alive in that they are most certainly physically living and breathing, but they are largely closed off from the rest of the world and going through the motions. Thus they are said to not truly "be alive".

In the context of Persona 4, I believe Adachi fits in with this trope. As Yukiko has assessed, life sucks, but it's not like he's in any hurry to die. From what we see of Adachi in the plot, he's going through the motions. He wakes up, goes to his job, goes to Junes to bum free air conditioning, and sometimes gets dragged over to Dojima's house.

I don't think it's bad that people fall into these routines by default. Some find them comforting, some appreciate the simplicity, and some make up for the monotony of adult life with the more fascinating things they do outside of work.

But this doesn't feel like it applies to Adachi because he openly groans about his life and job. He seems to want to live and fit in with society, but he wants to do so with more than what he has right now, yet he also seems unwilling or unable to get what he wants. He also seems unwilling to put in the effort - he tells us he's lonely and wants a girlfriend, but when the old woman from his Social Link tries to hook him up with a girl, he finds it all annoying. He thinks of himself as an elite detective who is above Inaba, but he is regularly made out to be incompetent, sloppy, and careless.

It's like he's stuck but not doing anything to become unstuck. Following the tropes, Adachi would move from being a character who is "alive without really being alive" to "Truly Living" once he figures out how to get himself un-stuck. If he truly wants to be a hotshot detective in the big city with a smokin' hot wife, then something needs to change because he won't get those things as he is now.

But how does Adachi approach the subject of "change"? (Spoiler: Not well.)

Maybe the world really is just a shitshow?

Adachi being exposed as the murderer is a major turning point for the murder investigation. And after the Investigation Team chases him into the TV, one of the many things he talks about is "change", or rather a lack of change.

As far as Adachi is concerned, the world can't / won't / doesn't change. He criticizes the world and its inability to change, how society works, and how people will latch to whatever you tell them as the truth.

Some things he says might resonate with us, especially nowadays with the spread of social media and misinformation. However, despite these criticisms, it sounds like he still desires to be part of society. (Yes, I know, this sounds like that one "We should improve society somewhat" comic, but Adachi did not want to "improve society" lbr LOL.) He has been trying to blend in as a normal guy since April despite being a murderer. I think it's worth reiterating that his complaints about his life weren't anarchist but more like, "I don't have a cute girlfriend who cooks for me." Furthermore, he was trying to take advantage of misinformation to get away with murder by pinning it on Namatame.

Adachi doesn't like the current world and doesn't think it will change. Thus, he is forcing it to change in a completely catastrophic way. He really is throwing a tantrum: Like, what, you can't get away with murder? All right, throw the whole world away. With this approach, it is not Adachi who must change to fit in with the world, but rather the world that must change to fit Adachi.

Change isn't a good subject with him, which, honestly, is relatable. Change is easier said than done. Even within Persona 4 itself, after getting Magical TV Powers, an event that feasibly might add spice to one's life!!, the same old routine still runs Adachi's life. What has changed is that he's now waiting for Namatame to kill someone. Showing up looking for a dead body in the shopping district is simply a new part of his routine.

This topic of Adachi and change gets wrapped up after the fight against Amenosagiri. Adachi challenges the Investigation Team: >>>If<<< they think they have the power to change the future, then do it.

After entering the TV World, Amenosagiri responds to Adachi's wish and makes his wish come true as the dungeon deadline bad ending shows. That was Adachi's own so-called power to change the future. So what is the Investigation Team's?

Yosuke then replies that everyone has the power to change their future. As in, you don't need special powers from a gigantic disco eyeball inside of a TV to do that. In context, Yosuke is telling Adachi, "This is a 'you' problem," or "Skill issue." And tbh, I think Yosuke is more or less correct here.

In which we revisit the topic of "dumbass" and effort

In some ways, this topic might seem odd to approach. Everyone on the Investigation Team - besides Chie - seems to have a better life situation than Adachi had when he was their age. Are they punching down? Perhaps it feels like a hollow reflection of the collectivist culture that the solution to these antagonists who go "BUT SOCIETY IS WHAT IS WRONG" is always to beat them up and force them to conform--

…..but hold on. That line of thought would be giving in to what Adachi says before his boss battle. And, based on how he quits talking about how "waaah society is unfair" afterward, I find it difficult to think that is what he genuinely believes about his situation.

When I suggest that Yosuke is correct, I don't mean this in a "You aren't special, Adachi, everyone else's life sucks too, just deal with it" kind of way. What I have in mind is how the game seems to support that this is an Adachi problem, not an everyone else problem. Throughout Adachi's Social Link, his other interactions, and what Atlus has said as meta / Word of God answers, you get the idea that people were trying with Adachi, but he wasn't meeting them halfway.

For example:

This entire post is about the effort the MC puts in just to get called a dumbass (though I'd bet that the protag considers Adachi calling him a dumbass to be like a Badge of Honor). Even their gay ass Fever Time in P4D tells the story of Yu trying to reach out and Adachi going, "No!!!"

The old woman in his Social Link is trying to wingwoman for him and hook him up with women in Inaba, but Adachi seems unwilling. Instead, he tells Nanako and the protagonist that he's never getting married. Despite his loneliness, he justifies himself by saying, "Marriage is the graveyard of a man's life."

The Dojima family and Adachi interact briefly throughout the game, both in the story scenes and in his Social Link. As his letter at the end of the game shows, Adachi felt lukewarm about their interactions because he wasn't quite aware of what he had with them until he no longer has their company.

The way I see it, when Adachi rants about the world not changing, he is not actually bitching about the world. Rather, this feels more like a form of projection. He says the world doesn't change, but perhaps he is talking about himself and his own inability to change. Which would reframe it as more like… He knows he's the issue that holds himself back - his own worst enemy, perhaps - but he says the world is wrong to justify himself.

You learn a bit about Adachi through his Social Link. During rank 6, in dialogue that can tragically be missed, Adachi will admit that he is lonely, but he also thinks it's easier that way. And really, easier is just another way of saying "less effort".

On one hand, this might show Adachi's annoyance with other people. But at the same time, for him to call the protagonist a dumbass for investing so much in him and their relationship, for him to pass up the matchmaking from the older woman at Junes while complaining about being single....... I think the unspoken bit here is that Adachi does not think he is worth the time or effort to begin with. His lack of effort isn't just him being annoyed with people or not giving a shit about things, it's a lack of effort into himself. I'm no expert, but I think the majority of us would wager that this is depression.

As the game's timeline unfolds, we really only know Adachi as the pathetic, silly murder guy. Did he start distancing himself from people and quit caring about the effort he puts into himself because of the "oops, I murdered someone" part? Or was he like this even before then?

When he talks more about his past, he doesn't go into a great amount of detail. But, going with my gut here, I get the feeling that Adachi's obsession with Mayumi - something from before he became a murderer - suggests his distance from people is not a new thing for him.

Consider: Meeting people? Forming relationships? Possibly getting rejected? Having to make someone else happy? Wh-What if he has to ch-change something about himself? Like, even before we talk about romance, how the hell do you even make friends as an adult? (The answer is BL btw. Go find some girlies who ship the same pairing.) I think Adachi said fuck it to all that bullshit. It'd be easier - less effort - for him to just be alone and not have to change anything about himself.

But… What if the magical TV just tells you exactly who your soulmate is? Well, shit, that's easy. For the lonely guy who just got transferred to Inaba and generally keeps his distance from people, I imagine it would be quite convenient to just be told, "This is who your soulmate is; the person you're meant to be with".

And that wouldn't be the last time Adachi gets a freebie from the TV. It happens again in December, as Adachi finds an again "easy" solution that does not involve changing himself or doing something annoying that requires effort from him. Having been enabled by the magical TV, Adachi is something of a static character.

Adachi is the Investigation Team's Shadow

In the P4G Premium Fan/Fun/Fsomething book, Atlus defines the Shadow by the Jungian definition, then talks about how the Shadows in-game represent "alternate possibilities" for the characters. The specific example it gives is how Chie's Shadow holds a great deal of animosity towards Yukiko. The real Chie doesn't feel this way towards Yukiko; in fact, she treasures her. Thus, Chie's Shadow is an alternate possibility.

When you look at Chie and what she says about accepting her Shadow, her Shadow seems to be born from a real insecurity (her jealousy of Yukiko) and part of it really does resemble Chie. But part of her Shadow is also this… caricature-esque thing. Hence why Atlus calls it the "alternate possibility". In turn, Chie accepts that she is jealous of Yukiko, but she does not accept the Banana Hat Dominatrix trying to exert control over Yukiko. She even realizes that rather than Yukiko needing her, it was actually her who needed Yukiko.

(I refuse to carry on with this train of thought further than talking about Atlus's own example with Chie because it would inevitably mean having to talk about how Atlus sees Kanji and Naoto's issues/Shadows/dungeons, and I'd need like bottles of wine to get in the mood to even type a paragraph of that.)

During her P4G winter Social Link scene, where her Persona evolves, Chie brings up Adachi and how she could have become him. She continues that anyone could have turned out like him.

Indeed, Adachi very much feels like a, "this could happen to anyone" character. He is an everyday normal guy who accidentally gets involved in something beyond him: a Like a Dragon side story NPC stuck in a game about high schoolers and friendship. Based on how you see these characters, you can correlate many of their issues to Adachi's own issues.

Really, in some ways, he feels like he was written to be the sum of the Investigation Team's insecurities, all bundled into one guy. In the case of Chie in particular, just as she was jealous of Yukiko and other girls, Adachi is jealous of what others have (especially Namatame, it seems), and he reflects that aspect of Chie.

As Chie's Shadow twisted her jealousy of Yukiko into a desire to control Yukiko and showed an alternate possibility for who Chie could have become if she had let jealousy consume her, perhaps Adachi shows an alternate possibility for who all of them could become.

As Amenosagiri later reveals, the truth torments the Shadows. Your party identifies that is what causes the Shadows to attack people.

When we consider how the game has gone until now, then those moments where the Investigation Team told their Shadows, "You're not me!" must be the moment that Amenosagiri was describing. The members of the Investigation Team come face to face with a being who claims to be them and seems aware of the same issues that gnaw at them. But these beings pervert their issues issues in a direction that doesn't reflect who the Investigation Team really are. And so they challenge that this being is truly them. They, sigh, "reach out to the truth", and it causes their Shadows to go nutso and attack.

And, of course, these repeated scenes where they tell their Shadows all lead up to the last time we see this kind of sequence...

Just as the Investigation Team had to face themselves and pick apart the truths from the caricature, they, too, come to face Adachi and cut through the bullshit, deny his attempts to justify why it's okay for him to merge the TV World into reality and screw everyone over, and reject him just as they did their Shadows.

That said, though, if we are to compare him to their Shadows, then we must acknowledge that, much like how the Investigation Team's Shadows come from their own real insecurities, Adachi's frustrations with the Investigation Team and with the world at large must also come from something real.

On this screenshotted line in particular, he even uses the more masculine "ore" as his pronoun in Japanese. He usually uses the more boyish "boku", but he seems to swap to "ore" to indicate that he is speaking quite genuinely--or perhaps speaking from the heart.

While he is a whiny murderer throwing an apocalyptic tantrum, I'm sure there are circumstances that made him the person that he is as an adult. Tbh, I've already made a lot of posts talking about the factors that might have contributed to *why* he feels like this, so I won't drag this out further.

By Arena Ultimax, Adachi has come to accept the murder case as the inciting incident that causes him to change as he finds himself finally owning up to his actions from the previous year. He's no role model lol, but life now has more meaning to him than just something you go through every day. Perhaps it's at this moment that he can be said to have gone from merely being alive to living.

(Let's be real tho, jail gives you 3 non-cup noodle meals per day? Damn. It's like he's living his best life. Speaking of which, food feels like such a fitting metaphor for his emotional nourishment.)

In the aftermath of the dungeon and the almost-end-of-the-world, Adachi agreed to start playing by the rules, and became more of a dynamic character. At the beginning of Ultimax, Adachi's commitment to this gets questioned as Yu, Yosuke, and Chie find him allied with Sho (like 5 cutscenes after Yu is so confidant he's behaving himself too, tsk tsk). But Yu reaches the roof, hears Adachi's cringe ass dialogue (I'm pretty sure that Adachi would not have said half that shit if he had known Yu was standing around the corner), and reaffirms his belief that Adachi was genuine about his promise to play by the rules.

The Investigation Team are not on the best of terms with Adachi. Regardless, they went into his dungeon, called him out on his bullshit that had been mixed in with his own real shortcomings and insecurities, punched him, and as we can tell by Ultimax, came to accept him in their own ways as they did their individual Shadows. As Yu says, perhaps they have strangely enough decided to trust in Adachi.

[russilton]

Russell's long wait: "Nobody knows when their time will come" In an exclusive interview, George Russell provides rare insights into his personality and private life, praises Lewis Hamilton – and draws a parallel to Michael Schumacher

Interview google-Translated from Motorsport-total.com

Since Lewis Hamilton's departure, he has been the new team leader of the Silver Arrows, the master of the Mercedes house, so to speak. And George Russell is a damn good master of the house – at least that's how a recently released commercial from Mercedes team partner Einhell suggests.

There's Russell cutting the grass and hedges in his huge villa, just as meticulously as you'd expect from someone with the image of the perfect son-in-law – and, along the way, he also talks about the unknown sides of the life of a Formula 1 star who apparently doesn't find it easy to switch off.

Well, you shouldn't believe everything you see on TV, in advertising, or on social media, as the same George Russell will tell us in this exclusive interview – in which we'll therefore ask the man directly about whom World Champion Max Verstappen said, during one of their many disputes over the past few months, that he has two faces: So which is his true face – and do the fans even get to see it?

The makers of the aforementioned commercial weren't entirely off the mark, that much can be revealed…

F1 "has been so polished and correct for many years"

Frederik Hackbarth: "George, we all laughed at the clip, but who came up with the idea? Because somehow it suits you perfectly: tidy, structured, everything in its place - right?"

George Russell: "I'd like to take credit, but the idea wasn't mine. As far as I know, it came from the production team we work with regularly. A really talented team with whom we've completed many projects. It was just nice to do something different and show a bit of personality. Formula 1 has been so polished and correct for many years, which hasn't really given me the chance to show my personality. So things like this are a good opportunity for that."

Hackbarth: "Where is this villa? I assume it's not yours?"

Russell: "No, no, it's in the South of France."

Hackbarth: "How different is it from your real home?"

Russell: "Oh, very different. My real home is smaller than this space [the ground floor of the Mercedes hospitality]. I live with my girlfriend in a two-bedroom apartment in Monaco. And I'm very happy with it. We've been living together for three years now - I don't need anything more."

Hackbarth: "So no garden?"

Russell: "No garden, no."

Hackbarth: "Is that something you would do yourself or did in the past?"

Russell: "As a child, at home, I always mowed the lawn - I loved it. There was something very therapeutic about it. Someday I'd like to have my own property with some land - maybe a small racing track for buggies, a paddle tennis court, space for animals, just a bit more space."

Hackbarth: "And the tools from the commercial - you probably don't need them right now, but do you actually get things like that for free?"

Russell: "Oh, they offered me the opportunity to choose whatever I wanted, but I didn't take anything. I'm honestly not a fan of just accepting things. I'm in a very privileged position, earning good money from the sport I love. Even if I'm given something for free, I'm happy to pay for it myself."

Discussing the toxicity of social media: Frederik Hackbarth and George Russell © circuitpics.de / Christoph Holland

But with the perks of being a Formula 1 driver come certain downsides; after all, the drivers are all social media stars these days. As Russell reveals, it's a double-edged sword…

Hackbarth: "I recently read that you paid your parents back, because as we all know, it's very expensive to make it to the top in motorsport. At the same time, you see a commercial like this one of yours, which conveys a certain image of the Formula 1 millionaire. We always see you guys on yachts and so on. Where is the reality there? Is it here or there—or somewhere in between? The whole thing must feel like a dream sometimes, even though you've been doing it for a few years now."

Russell: "No, definitely, it is a dream. Almost every morning I sit on the balcony with my girlfriend having breakfast, looking out at the sea—and say: 'This is a dream.' But it's not always all sunshine and roses. The people around you are more important than material possessions, if that makes sense. Still, what we experience isn't reality. We live in our own bubble. We're in the spotlight, people recognize us. If you go to a restaurant and people want photos or autographs, that's not normal."

"But we know that's part of it, I don't have a problem with it—it's not a sacrifice, it's just part of the job. But when you have time to get away from it all, you can retreat to the water, for example, to get some distance from everything. It's a wonderful way to feel normal again, so to speak, just being with friends, my girlfriend, or my family—that's when I really feel like myself."

Russell: "Don't show anyone who I really am"

Hackbarth: "You talk about the water—but even that is sometimes used to create certain images. When we talk about Netflix [Drive to Survive], for example, we've all seen you on the boat. For example, I have some friends who don't really have much to do with Formula 1, and yet they know you. Then they often say, 'Isn't that the guy who always takes his shirt off?' So, a certain image is created. How much of that is real? Or are you perhaps more of that nerd who mows the lawn—we also know the story about your PowerPoint presentation in a suit in front of Toto. Is that perhaps the real George Russell?"

Russell: "I think everything you see on social media, no matter who's posting it, is ultimately not reality. Because everyone's just trying to present the best version of themselves. If you take a hundred photos, you don't post the one where you have your eyes closed or look like an idiot. And that's exactly what's toxic about social media. For example, I have little nieces and nephews who look up to singers or influencers—and what we all show there isn't a normal life, if you know what I mean."

"To be honest, I probably don't show anyone who I really am—because that's also my safe space. When I'm with my girlfriend, my family, or my friends, there are no cameras. Then we're somewhere private—at my parents' house or their parents' house. Or on vacation, where no one's around, that's where we're completely ourselves. And then I don't want to be on my phone all the time, taking photos for social media."

Balancing the red carpet and private life: Russell and his girlfriend Carmen © Motorsport Images

"It's not quite that easy, though. It's not that easy because I also want to be authentic – because ultimately, the fans who watch Formula 1 and follow me are the ones who make the sport what it is. That's why sponsors pay money to be part of the team – and that's how I earn my living. You can't bite the hand that feeds you. You have to understand that times are changing."

"Kimi Räikkönen was such an incredible personality. But if he came into Formula 1 today as an 18-year-old, people would probably be dissatisfied if he didn't use social media or was so taciturn. That's the challenge we face today."

Hackbarth: "It's funny that you mention Kimi – because now there's the other Kimi [Antonelli], the 18-year-old. Have you ever talked to him about it? Because it must all be unbelievable for him – he's only been here six or seven races, but you're under so much pressure, so much attention, so much media interest. Any advice?"

Russell: "Yes, we've already talked a lot, and we're also on the road together at many sponsorship events. We travel together, have time to talk to each other. It's not easy for anyone – especially when you're so young. But he has such a fantastic team around him, and his parents are really great people who keep him grounded. At the end of the day, of course, he's just living his dream – the same one we all had at 18 […] But he's a very smart boy. He'll make his way."

"Toto and Susie are like family to me."

Hackbarth: "In the commercial, you can see you calling Toto. Since we're talking about team spirit and communication, and people you can talk to when things aren't going well: How realistic is that? How regularly do you talk? Do you call him every day and ask, 'So, how's it going?'"

Russell: "Well, in the winter, I usually see him every day. We live only 100 meters away from each other. We always like to have coffee together—with Susie and Carmen, my friend. Then we go downstairs for coffee, because we usually get up at the same time…"

Hackbarth: "When would that be?"

Russell: "Well, we're both rather late risers – so 10 a.m. is coffee time. And we rarely talk about work. We have a really close relationship; last year, for example, we were in the house together in Austria. I see… Toto and Susie are like family to me."

Successful duo: Mercedes team boss Toto Wolff and his new team leader © Motorsport Images

However, when the Mercedes driver isn't having coffee with his team boss or thundering around the world's racetracks at 300 km/h, he still doesn't get bored – after all, he also has another side job: one that has become significantly more explosive and intense in recent times due to the disputes between the drivers and FIA President Mohammed bin Sulayem. Russell has also been a director of the GPDA drivers' union since 2021 and, as such, advocates for the interests of the drivers…

Hackbarth: "You're very busy because you're also heavily involved with the GPDA. We hear about it again and again in the press conferences and probably all think we know what you're doing there. But isn't there a lot going on in the background that nobody sees – writing emails, for example, or organizing things? How much effort is really involved?"

Russell: "I'll be honest: Alex Wurz [GPDA President] and Anastasia Fowle, our legal advisor, are handling most of the heavy lifting. But of course, over the last 18 months, we've been much more involved than we originally expected because things have become so divisive."

"The developments were quite surprising, even for me personally. I was much more involved, but you have to find a balance. When I joined the GPDA, I didn't really intend to be so politically involved with the FIA, because that wasn't really a factor at all at the time. It was more of a collaborative effort."

Russell on the GPDA and the famous WhatsApp group

Hackbarth: "Would you prefer to resign from the position now?"

Russell: "No, I wouldn't. Because right now, we're riding a wave as a sport—but if you fall off the wave, things can go downhill very quickly. That's why we all need to remain very vigilant and not take Formula 1's current position for granted. The teams are doing a great job. Liberty and Stefano [Domenicali] are doing a fantastic job with marketing and promotion, as they recently did with Lego, for example."

"But it's like a Jenga tower: if a single brick falls, the whole structure can collapse. So we can't let up now, while we're in this strong position—because, as I said, things can change very quickly. Just as unexpectedly as the upswing came, it can also disappear again. That's why this phase is perhaps more crucial than ever."

Behind the scenes: George Russell in an interview with Frederik Hackbarth © circuitpics.de / Christoph Holland

Hackbarth: "When we talk about the GPDA, there's also this legendary WhatsApp group that all the drivers are in. Is it really just about serious things, like someone has an idea or concern and brings it up? Or is it more like a chat among friends where you share memes and funny things? How can you imagine that?"

Russell [laughs]: "Well, it's not just one or the other, it's probably a mix of both. Once a conversation gets going, the messages just fly back and forth. But it's obviously a pretty special group, because it's the 20 drivers, with Alex and Anastasia in the mix."

"We all have a good relationship with each other, although some people's is obviously better than others'. But it's a pretty unique chat group: Imagine if the 15 or 20 best footballers in the world had a group chat—you probably wouldn't see Messi and Ronaldo sending each other memes… so yeah, it's something special."

Hamilton? Relationship "even gotten a little closer"

Hackbarth: "Speaking of other drivers: Lewis has left the team. He was your teammate throughout your time at Mercedes. How is your relationship now? Do you still have regular contact, or has that dwindled a bit since he moved to Ferrari?"

Russell: "No, if anything, it's actually gotten a little closer. We sometimes fly together and talk to each other more often off the track, too."

Hackbarth: "Why would you say it's closer now? Because the sporting rivalry is different?"

Russell: "Yeah, to be honest, I can't really say. We just have a good relationship. Lewis is someone whose company I really enjoy. He's obviously in the spotlight, more than any of us—and sometimes a protective shield goes up. But in a familiar setting, he's someone I get along with really well. It's nice to have someone like him, someone I also ask for advice from time to time, because he's at a completely different stage of his career."

The fact that Russell was able to beat Hamilton in two of his three years as teammates at Mercedes made an impression in the paddock – after all, the Briton, who has since moved to Ferrari, is nothing less than the record world champion in the premier class. Russell has never made a secret of the fact that he considers his 13-year-older compatriot the best of all time.

Which leads to a very simple question…

Hackbarth: "So what does that actually say about you, what does it mean?"

Russell: "I'll leave that up to you to judge. I just drive, week after week. I've always said I'm not afraid of being anyone's teammate. At the end of 2021, Lewis was the hottest prospect in the field. Nobody would have thought anyone at Mercedes could beat him as a teammate. I came in and performed from the first race. I've always believed in myself."

"The reputation he had is the same one Max has now. Nobody believes Max is beatable. And that's exactly how people thought about Lewis back then. People forget that Lewis came into Formula 1 as a rookie back then—and finished on the podium in every one of his first six races [Note: Actually, it was nine], with a two-time world champion as his teammate. That says a lot."

Russell's contract with Mercedes expires at the end of 2025, the Briton wants to stay © circuitpics.de / Christoph Holland

Hackbarth: "To turn that around: Kimi was also impressive in the early races, recently taking the sprint pole in Miami. Are you sometimes a little jealous of him, because you had to spend three years at Williams on your way up? And he comes in straight away, perhaps at just the right time - considering that the engine should make Mercedes at least one of the favorites next year. You felt like you had to wait longer for your chance…"

Russell: "Look at Fernando [Alonso]: He comes in, wins two titles in his first four years - and people say: 'He'll win ten.' He hasn't won a title since then. Or Sebastian [Vettel]: He wins four – and then no more after that. If you look at Michael Schumacher: It took him five years at Ferrari before he won his first title there. This is my fourth year at Mercedes, next year will be my fifth…"

Hackbarth: "I mean… is that certain?"

Russell: "No, it's not certain. Nothing is certain. But if I stay at Mercedes, then next year will be my fifth year with the team. Nobody knows when their time will come. You just have to make sure you keep performing consistently, keep delivering. And what happens then – that remains to be seen."

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

This guitar wants to be attacked harder

Interview Richard Kruspe 'Gitarist' magazine, edition june 2025, text by Kevin Pasman, translation by Google&me

Richard Z. Kruspe is very satisfied with his signature guitar. There are a number of interesting design choices, many of which are the result of his own experiments. We spoke to Kruspe about the LTD RZK-III, about his relationship with ESP, about the switch to Kemper he recently made and about the Fender Stratocaster that he had smuggled to East Berlin in the eighties.

"I had this guitar designed from a standing position," says Kruspe. "I normally always pick my guitars from a sitting position. I first played this one live, standing up, and the shape is designed to play comfortably when you're standing.

The differences are interesting. It has a kill switch, but because I always played while sitting down, I used to have it in a different place. Much further down. When I started playing it live, I discovered that it is not comfortable to be placed there at all when you are standing. We adjusted that at the last minute."

"I feel like this guitar has a certain live feel to it. You somehow want to attack it harder than other guitars. It has a kind of 'bring it on' mentality. It wants to be played hard. It's not a jazz guitar; it wants to be riffed. It has an attitude. At least that's how I experience it."

Bend

A notable feature of the RZK-III is the recessed tune-o-matic bridge.

"Before this, I played with Floyd Rose bridges for years," Kruspe explains. "I chose that because they have a certain attack, but I didn't use the tremolo system at all. That's why I wanted to try something different this time, focusing purely on sound. This tailpiece was ultimately the best option in terms of sound of the three variants that I tried."

"There was just one problem: normally there is a crazy bend in the neck when you use a tailpiece like this. We had to find a solution for that, because it just didn't feel comfortable to me. With a Floyd Rose everything is a lot flatter and if you play it for years, you naturally get used to it."

"To imitate the light playing feel of a Floyd Rose, we came up with the idea of ​​sinking the bridge into the body. I did that here in Berlin with a good friend of mine. We figured out exactly how deep we could go into the body without affecting the sound and playing feel."

"It was a matter of trial and error. We sent the guitar that we were happy with to Japan and it was recreated there. This idea started when I was working on a video for my solo project Emigrate in 2021 and it ultimately took about four years before everything was finally in such a way that it could actually be produced."

Illegal

Kruspes signature humbuckers from Fishman can also be found in the RZK-III. For the need for humbuckers, Kruspe talks about his second guitar ever: "A Fender. That was still in East Germany, so it was completely illegal at the time. I had met someone in a cafe who brought books from the West to the East. I gave him my money - 12,000 Ostmark which I exchanged for 1200 Westmark - and I asked him if he could buy me a Stratocaster and take it with him. After that I didn't hear from him for three months. So I thought: okay, that money is gone. But then, just before Christmas, there was a suitcase on my doorstep with that Stratocaster."

"Because I had only played with humbuckers before and didn't know at all what single coils and humbuckers were at the time, I was a bit disappointed by the sound when I first played it. Nowadays at home I often play on single coils, on a Fender, because it's just fun to play Hendrix-like riffs and things like that. But the riffa that I write for Rammstein and Emigrate: those are humbucker riffs."

Tiger

Kruspe's relationship with ESP goes back to the early days of Rammstein in the mid-1990s: "It started when I was at the Frankfurter Musikmesse for the first time and saw a guitar at the ESP stand that I completely fell in love with," says Kruspe. "That was an ESP 901, which I jumped on like a tiger on its prey, haha! I've probably had that guitar in my hands ten times. It was the first guitar where I felt love at first sight."

"Because I started playing that guitar, I came into contact with Stefan Kühn, who arranged sales and distribution here in Germany. That's how the contact came about. ESP was of course already an address for hard music, or a hard way of playing, in the eighties. They were always good at improving existing designs."

Stability

Despite Rammstein's modern sounds, Kruspe has long stuck to playing with amplifiers. A few years ago he switched to Kemper.

“My equipment had become so complicated that our front-of-house friends were starting to get more and more annoyed with it,” he laughs. "No one wanted to work with me anymore, haha! I had to simplify that somehow."

"I profile all my amplifiers myself. After a lot of work and searching for the right profiles in my studio, I noticed that it works better for the people we work with because we now have the same sound every day. That is also one of the reasons why I switched to Fishman. With EMGs I had the feeling that the differences were too big. The Fishman pickups all sound exactly the same. That stability is very important to me.

"Nowadays you can actually switch from extremely clean to extremely heavy. You cannot do that with an amplifier. The advantages of a Kemper are ultimately greater than the small difference in sound that only I hear and that is becoming increasingly smaller. Taking analog equipment with you on tour became so complicated at a certain point that it was no longer in proportion,"

"When you travel with 110 trucks, it doesn't really matter whether you take analog equipment or not. But for the front-of-house engineer and the monitor engineer it's just much easier. And a lot of things happen automatically. I work with MIDI, so I no longer have to switch between sounds myself. This allows me to concentrate more on the playing itself."

"Moreover, it is of course true that you always need an amplifier to create a profile. The hardware always has to be there. But you no longer have to take it with you on tour. The advantages are gradually far more numerous than the disadvantages."

"I do still have two cabinets to create a certain sound pressure from the back. But that is more a kind of monitor system for the band itself."

Synergy

It also helps that Kruspe and his fellow guitarist Paul Landers have had a clear idea of ​​how Rammstein's guitar sound works for years. On the studio albums this is still determined by a Mesa/Boogie Dual Rectifier and a Tech21 SansAmp.

"When you hear Rammstein's sound, you just know: that is a Rectifier sound, which gets a certain presence from the SansAmp," Kruspe summarizes.

"That hasn't changed much over the years. It's not like Paul only played SansAmp and I only played Rectifier: we both work on both systems."

"We found a good synergy between these two amplifier sounds. It would sound extremely different if we were to completely separate left and right. But because it is a combined form that sounds exactly the same left and right, it comes out as one sound."

"It's not like Malcolm and Angus Young, who always play different things. Then it makes sense to play with different sounds. But if we have the same stereo image on the left and right, it works great."

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The magazine also has a review of the LTD RZK-III by Steven Faber; some (less technical) quotes that i particularly liked:

"The neck is made of three parts of maple and continues into the body, which is further made of alder. On the rosewood fingerboard we see the well-known position marking in the shape of the Rammstein symbol and the twenty-two stainless steel extra jumblf frets are perfectly finished."

"On the back we see the RZK symbol with Richard giving us the middle finger. On the Japanese ESP version it is on the front with 'Fuck' underneath, but that had to be adjusted on this model to make it suitable for American retail chains. On the back we also find a compartment for the battery of the Fluence elements and on the headstock Kruspe's signature."

"The RZK-III is designed to be played standing up and its contoured body makes it ideal for that. If you want to sit, that's fine, but - and this applies to most asymmetrical models - there are guitars that are more ergonomic. The neck has a translucent satin finish on the back that feels very pleasant while playing. And speaking of playability: I'm a fan of Kruspe's idea to integrate the tune-o-matic into the body. It somehow gives you a feeling of control, especially when you play muted parts."

"Besides the fact that the kill switch works excellently, it is especially funny that you can reverse the working of it so that you only have sound when you press it. That sounds different and immediately gives ideas for using it creatively in combination with effects such as delay."

"With the appearance of his third signature, Richard Kruspe will appeal to a wider audience, because this guitar can just as easily be imagined in the picture of a blues band as with Rammstein on stage. It is stylish, plays well and sounds excellent. The two voicings give you a wide palette of sounds and we did not miss the tone control. A class instrument!"

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