#jordi is an intern

[rhodes-knightwife]

About Arknights modern AU, I can’t help but think of Abysal Hunters/Aegerians as a bunch of people running an aquarium in a waterfront/harbour and all the hijinx they’d get up to.

"...alright, let me see if I have this straight." Dr. Ulpianus pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching the well-worn band of his mask. "I went on vacation for one month, and in that time... Skadi wrestled one of the killer whales and won."

"That is correct." His assistant, Secunda, ticked off an item on the clipboard she held.

The man sighed before continuing. "And Gladiia didn't stop this because she's been in a passive aggressive pissing match with Director Horatia over...?"

Another tick. "Mm. How did Ms. Lucilla put it... I believe terms such as 'mommy issues' and 'control freak' were thrown about?"

"Great. Fantastic." Was it too late to call in for an extra sick day? "Doubt Andreana's showed up to work either, which just leaves... Laurentina and Skadi have both blown through this quarter's allotment of free employee tickets. I don't suppose you'd know why?"

Tick. "We have been hoping to ply a beautiful young liberi into a relationship, if possible, and the aquarium is a suitable date location."

The man slumped back in his chair. "Well, I guess that's the least of my concerns-- wait. Did you say 'we'?"

The woman was already by the door, calling out over her shoulder. "Well sir, I do believe if my report is complete, I ought to double-check the new safety measures in the orca tanks. Welcome back."

"Secunda, get back here-- Secunda!"

[notcoolbutcute]

❗❗Possible SoC and RoW spoilerssss❗❗

Headcannon:

Nina comes back to Ketterdam and for whatever reason connects with Jordie and he tells her all the secrets and funny stories about Kaz. She then just randomly says them aloud when the gang's around.

[mowu-moment]

everton-newcastle was the most tense nil-all i've seen to date holy hell. the pathos of that penalty kick will keep me well fed 'til internationals

[havithreatendub4]

#BCN #Minamata #BCNFilmFest2021 #Andrew Levitas director #Barcelona Spain 🇪🇸 #premiere hear Johnny's #award acceptance video #April 2021

[downthetubes]

Michele Hutchison announced as winner of inaugural Sophie Castille Awards for Comics in Translation

Michele Hutchison has been announced as the winner of the inaugural Sophie Castille Awards for Comics in Translation. More Awards for translation, inspired by the late Sophie Castille, are set to follow, across Europe

Michele Hutchison has been announced as the winner of the inaugural Sophie Castille Awards for Comics in Translation, for her translation of The Philosopher, The Dog and the Wedding by Barbara Stok, published in English by SelfMadeHero. More Awards for translation, inspired by the late Sophie Castille, are set to follow, across Europe. Michele Hutchison, winner of inaugural Sophie Castille…

[frankencanon]

Six of Crows AU where there's some sort of International Farmers Association that has big meets every now and then where farmers come from all over and Jesper's father has met Kaz's parents there before so when Colm (Jesper's father) meets Kaz he recognizes him almost immediately

"Do I know you?" Colm asks, "That is, have we met before?" And then, before Kaz or anyone else even has the chance to respond: "The Rietvelds! You're the Rietvelds' boy, aren't you? Now, which one are you, then? Jordie or Kaz?"

Someone, inevitably: "Kaz is a farmboy?!"

-

Edit: I give full blanket permission for anyone to write fanfic of this AU, btw. <3

[jccatstudios]

Taking a second to appreciate chapter 3 because WOW it is good, especially when it’s put back-to-back with chapter 2. No time is wasted in fleshing out Kaz’s character. In chapter 2, he’s this secretive mastermind, snarky and confident, pulling all the strings with this over-the-top dramatic flair. He ends the chapter seemingly infallible. Cut to chapter 3. Rereading this section, I completely forgot how scared he is through it all. Everything from memories of Jordie to the possibility of a plague to his senses being compromised weighs on him heavily. He doesn’t completely lose his bravado, but looking into his pov, he does lose that first impression we have of him that he can’t be shaken. We even see him hopeful, meaning that despite all his perfected scheming from the last chapter, his life is far from his definition of perfect. And don’t get me started on how often his internal monologue completely contradicts his actions (the scene between him and Jesper immediately comes to mind). He can’t plan his way out of everything, no matter how much he’d like to. Chapter 2 introduces us to Kaz’s legend, but chapter 3 introduces us to his humanity.

[pensat-i-fet]

Not a crush (Pedri x Reader)

**I got this request and thought it could be cute and fun. It’s true that the Spanish press has been talking about this arms situation a lot, so it’s a good blend of fiction and reality. But then it turned into one of those writing projects that changed 7 times before its final form. For a second I even thought about turning this into a series. My brain! Anyways, enjoy reading! ❤️**

ETA: I ended up writing a series based on this imagine that you can read here!

Word count: 2685

Masterlist

Wattpad

“All those years in uni to end up doing this”, you muttered. “I’m never going to be taken seriously”.

“What are you talking about?”

“This article I have to do”.

Your colleague Jordi moved his chair closer to yours to peek at your computer screen.

“You know that we can’t use the computers for personal stuff, right?”

You put your head on the table. Really, no one was going to take you seriously.

“Huh?”

“Why are you looking at photos of shirtless Pedri? Got a crush?”

“Shut up! I have to do an article about the evolution of his body in the last couple of years”.

“That’s cool”.

“It’s stupid!”

“I’ve done worse when I was an intern. Don’t be so negative”.

You guessed he was right. It could be a lot worse. And you didn’t have a crush but…there were worse ways to spend a Tuesday afternoon than looking at photos of a cute player. And being given an excuse to stare at his body, which had definitely changed in the last couple of years. You didn’t visit the gym much but liked it when others did. Especially if that was the result of their gym sessions.

Writing the article actually took a good chunk of your day. Between getting the right photos and videos for it and asking for permission to use them, the actual writing and your colleagues' stupid comments about it, it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be at first. But it was a good article. And once the editor saw it and was happy with it, it was posted on the newspaper's website.

The following day you posted a link to it on your social media accounts and a little later you started to go through the comments. So many of them talked about how you were only picked to do that article because it was about a man's body and you were a woman. Right…nothing new on Twitter.

“Stop replying to hate comments”.

“It’s therapeutical”.

"It's pointless".

Just one more…

                                      **

It wasn't just the press or people on social media talking about Pedri's muscles. His teammates loved to tease him joking about that too.

"Here comes the Spanish Lewandowski", laughed Eric.

"So funny".

"Please don't be mad at me. I'm afraid you'll use those big strong muscles to punish me".

Pedri did use his muscles to push his friend and get him out of the way. He knew it was just banter but it all got boring after a few days.

"There needs to be a big signing or something so your arms stop being the topic of the week", told him Ferrán, who was looking at his phone.

“Yeah, I saw Barça posting about it on social media too. People are so overdramatic”.

“Totally, but I didn't mean that. I meant the new article”.

"What new article?"

Ferrán showed him your article and Pedri sat down to read it properly. It was a great article. You took the time to analyze the way his game could be influenced by this body change and picked different photos than the ones used by everyone else. He guessed there were still proper journalists out there. What a plot twist.

"It's a good article", he said, giving the phone back to his friend.

"The internet seems to disagree".

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know if they disagree but the girl who wrote it was getting a lot of shit on social media".

"Why?", Pedri couldn't hide his frown.

"I didn't look much into it but I saw people saying nasty things to her and then they found some old tweets and …seems like she used to have a crush on you and now she writes about your muscles or whatever and people on Twitter are the way they always are".

"Right", he murmured. He had listened to everything his friend said but also got stuck on how you used to have a crush on him. And he didn't even know who you were but footballers…they just loved being loved.

                                     **

"No point in deleting them now", said Jordi.

"I wasn't going to…".

People had too much time on their hands. That was the conclusion of the day. Somehow, just because of your article, someone decided to check your entire Twitter history to see if there was anything they could accuse you of. They probably were mad to find no offensive tweets but they found two where you retweeted a Barça fan page and wrote about liking Pedri.

The funniest thing was you barely remembered those tweets. You saw him, thought he was cute and posted that. Then you moved on. There were many players you found cute but had no time for crushes. Pedri got a mention purely for the fact that he signed for your team.

But now this was being used against you. So childish.

"Are you busy next week?"

You looked up to see your boss talking to you. He never talked to you.

"I guess. I mean, I'll be here working. So…".

"Do you have a passport?"

"Yes".

"Your English was good, right?"

"Pretty good, yeah".

He only had to look at your CV to see all the qualifications you had, including all the diplomas that proved your English was more than good but…no one cared that much about an intern.

"You're going on the US tour", he said and left. How could he drop that bomb and leave?

Your jaw was on the floor and Jordi was staring at you with a similar expression.

"Wait!", you said, finally able to get up and follow your boss. "What do you mean I'm going on the US tour? There is a group of people chosen for that already. It was decided months ago".

"I know", he said casually. "But one of them can't go and you'll take his spot".

"But I'm just an intern".

"Do you not want to go?"

"I do! Of course I do!", you said quickly. "But it doesn't make sense".

"Look. You're doing really well here. And you've gotten people to visit our website more than ever with just one article so…you earned it".

You had heard about all the visits to the website after the Pedri article was posted. But the way your boss was avoiding holding eye contact told you everything you needed to know.

"Am I just going because people think I have a crush on one of the players that'll be there?"

"If you weren't a good journalist, that wouldn't be enough for me to send you with that team. But it doesn't hurt".

"Ok, I'll start packing".

This was a great opportunity and you weren't going to reject it just because of some of the reasons surrounding it. But the excitement you felt when you first heard about the trip completely vanished.

And when you checked your Instagram and saw a certain player was looking at your stories…it was even worse.

No one took you seriously but you'd prove them wrong.

                                     **

The pre-season was both loved and hated by players. Pedri didn't really have strong feelings about it. It was just part of the job and they got to visit some different places so there were positives to take from these couple of weeks.

Another positive was having you around. After finding out about your article and your past crush on him, he checked your social media accounts. There wasn't much on any of them, since they were professional accounts. But there were a couple of photos of you and your dog.

Stories were something you also used to mostly promote your work and it was while checking those he found out you were going to the US too. He was hoping you'd meet at some point but didn't expect you'd be the one to interview him.

"Hi, nice to meet you", you said, extending your hand for him to shake. So professional.

"Nice meeting you too. I really liked your article about me".

Something changed in your expression and he couldn't understand what it was but you quickly got back to professional mode.

"Thank you. Let's get this done quickly. I was told we only have 15 minutes".

The interview was pretty uneventful. You asked good questions and Pedri gave you good answers in return. But you were so serious. He didn't know you personally, so maybe that was how you always were. But Pedri had a feeling there was more to it.

"Was that good?"

"The interview? Yes, thank you for your answers. They were really good".

"Easy when the questions are good too".

You nodded, quickly looking away.

"Are you ok?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because it seems like you would want to be anywhere but here".

You closed your eyes and sighed.

"Is it because of what people said about you?"

His words made you open your eyes and you finally looked at him. Instead of answering, you simply nodded.

"Don't pay attention to them".

"Easier said than done. Especially when they are the reason I'm here".

"The reason…".

"I'm not here because I'm good at my job. But because people thinking I have a crush on you got us a lot of attention. And now this interview will get more attention. So I'm basically just a pawn and I guess so are you".

"I'm sorry".

"It's not your fault".

Picking up your things, you got ready to leave but Pedri stopped you.

"I don't read what people write about me but my parents do. They like to keep the articles and print the photos and all that. Things parents do, I guess", he shrugged. "I read your article because Ferrán showed it to me and thought it was great. And then my parents told me about it, praising your writing multiple times. Your newspaper might be using you but you're good. You showed it to me in this interview too so don't feel sad".

"I don't have a crush on you".

"What?", but then he realised what you meant. "I didn't praise you because of that. God, you really need to get out of that mindset".

When Pedri started to laugh, you were more confused than ever.

"It's not you against the world. And people will praise you just because they genuinely want to…but now I'll be the one who's sad".

"Why?"

"I liked thinking you had a crush on me".

Now you were laughing too. Finally, he got to see the smile he had seen in those photos.

"Thank you for your words. I needed them. And you must go to train. I'll see you around".

"Yes".

The interview was posted just a couple of hours later. And even if Pedri's words helped, the comments you got still hurt.

Got what she wanted. To meet him.

"Yes, that's all I wanted in life. I can retire now".

"Why are you looking at your phone like it offended you?", asked one of your colleagues.

"It's the people inside it that offend me".

"Are there people living inside your phone?"

You half laughed at his bad joke.

"I know what you need to cheer up".

"Really?"

"Yes. Thoughts on karaoke?"

That made you laugh. You were such a terrible singer. "I like it. People don't like hearing me sing, though".

"I want to hear you sing so you're coming with us tonight".

                                   **

One of the easiest ways to get in trouble during pre-season was to go out and wake up to paparazzi photos of the party. But when it was the coach that took you out…then it was fine?

Pedri wasn't really into parties anyways but he thought karaoke night could be fun. He wasn't planning on signing but knew which teammates would. His phone was going to record all of it to tease them in the future.

"It started already", said Xavi, who was the first one to get inside the bar.

And he was right. There was someone leaving the stage while they found their tables. And someone else took the previous person's place immediately. Pedri wasn't interested in the random people who were going to sign but still looked up to see who was talking to the guy that controlled the machine.

And it was you who was on the stage.

"Well, that's a surprise", he said, almost to himself.

"What is?", Ferrán was now looking at the stage too. "Who is she? She's hot".

"The journalist who wrote about my muscles".

"The one that doesn't have a crush on you?", he laughed. "That's funnier now that I know she's pretty".

Pedri rolled his eyes and continued staring at you. He could see you were giggling and it was such a change from the super serious woman he met for the interview.

You picked a Franz Ferdinand song. They were one of your favourite bands when you were a teen and after seeing them live at the FIB, you were back to listening to all their songs on repeat.

Oh, when I woke up tonight, I said I’m

Going to make somebody love me

I’m going to make somebody love me

And now I know, now I know, now I know

I know that it’s you

You’re lucky, lucky, you’re so lucky

Your voice wasn’t great but who cared about that on karaoke night? Pedri didn’t. He just stared at you. You looked so relaxed. Just having fun instead of the worried version of you he got for his interview.

“Whoever she chooses would be lucky. She isn’t lying”.

Ferrán’s words took Pedri out of his daydreams. “What do you mean?”

“The song”.

“I’m not really paying attention to the lyrics. What do they mean?”

His teammate explained the meaning of the lyrics quickly and Pedri had to agree. Whoever you chose would be very lucky.

“I wouldn’t mind being the chosen one but you saw her first. Shame she doesn’t have a crush on you anymore, Pedrito”.

Yeah, it was a shame.

When you finished your song, you felt so much better. This had been the right plan to improve your mood. None of your colleagues wanted a drink, so you went to the bar to get one. It was needed after all that singing.

“I didn’t know you were a singer too?”

You turned to face Pedri and snorted. “Yes, it was my plan b if journalism didn’t work out”.

“There is always autotune to help”.

Pedri was pleased to see you laughing at his words. It was the second time in just one day he had achieved that.

“Do you want a drink too?”, you asked him when the bartender was taking your order.

“Just water, please”.

Once you got your drinks, none of you moved from the bar to go back to your friends. You just kept chatting.

“I mean, who knew writing about someone’s arms could lead to so much drama”.

Pedri followed your eyes which were now staring at his biceps. “Want to touch them?”

Yes. “No”.

“After reading the article I wondered if you knew more about my body than I do, you know? So it’s ok, you can touch”.

You bit your lip, trying not to blush. "I know you hear every day about how good you are at everything and that makes you overly confident but you aren’t as great at flirting as you might think".

"I heard about how great I am from you too. So you're at fault".

"I've barely written about you apart from that article".

"Yeah, but the old tweets…".

"I told you I don’t have a crush on you”.

“And the way you’re blushing says something different”.

When he leaned closer, you noticed how your knees were touching beneath the bar. They had been touching for a couple of minutes and you hadn’t even noticed. Nor did you feel the need to move.

“Not here”, you said.

“What?”

“Not where people can see us”.

“I thought you didn’t…”.

“I just want to test a theory”.

“What theory?”, he asked, smirking at you.

“If the crush I had on you two years ago is still there”.

[jahayla-parker]

💭Headcanon: send in a character and a scenario or type of reader to get a bullet point list of thoughts on it.

okay okay, kaz brekker x sister!reader

Kaz Brekker's Sister Headcannons

I feel like his sister would be the youngest (born after both Jordie and Kaz). 'Cause part of his trauma is being afraid to rely on someone older who he thought would take care of him.

Running with that thought, Kaz would take that ^^^ type of role towards his sister very seriously. He vowed he wouldn’t let her down the way Jordie let him down (don’t come for me! His internal thoughts mention this frustration in the books so it’s canon).

We know Kaz is obviously very protective over those he cares about, which would undoubtedly extend to his sister. But, his role as the older brother added to that. And his disappointment and anger towards Jordie’s role in what happened ask those years ago, added to that as well; he wasn’t going to do that to his sister.

Although, he knew it wasn’t something he could prevent. Since it already happened to her once; the same day it happened to him. Jordie was her older brother as well. But Kaz nevertheless vowed to never let her down.

Kaz vowed to never make her have to worry about or even question having a roof over her head, a warm room to sleep in, food , etc.

He kept a healer on hand should she get sick ever (even so much as a cold). He wasn’t taking any chances. While he refused to let healers touch him he required it for her wellbeing.

She never had to worry about her safety. He’d taught her how to defend herself, how to fight, kill, etc.

He kept her from having to experience the financial difficulties he was old enough to experience due to Jordie’s deal with Rollins and as they aged, he made sure it stayed that way now that she was old enough to be able to know if that was the case as he made sure they always had enough funds saved up and the means to get more some should it be needed.

Kaz would’ve been so upset when his sister became ill, to the point it inadvertently made himself much sicker from stress.

Kaz tried to do whatever he could to get her feeling better, giving any scraps of sustenance to her instead of taking his portion/share and using their only blanket to cover more of her body by not covering any of his.

It would only have driven his anger against Pekka even further because he not only lost his older brother, he almost lost his little sister and he watched her suffer the loss of jordie as well

Given she was so young (given the age gap between Jordie and Kaz at the time of incident, I’m assuming she’s roughly 7 ish), it was a lot to process and try to make sense of

And poor Kaz wasn’t much better at that; certainly not to the point he’d be able to be much help for her in this area

As such, he resorted to simply helping raise her as if this new life was simply how their lives had always been

Because he’d used the blanket on her and not himself, and had literally given her some of the clothing off his back to keep her from freezing to death, she’d managed to survive the night.

In fact, while her body was too hypothermic to wake up when the medics came through and took her brothers, she was fortunate enough to be just warm enough to not be considered dead the way Kaz was, and as such, wasn’t dumped in the harbor with Jordie.

As such, she didn't develop the trauma with touch like Kaz

But, it was her presence on land that truly drove Kaz’s survival.

His body was giving up and he wanted nothing more than to just give in

And he especially didn’t want to have to use his brother’s body as a flotation mechanism in order to survive

But his vengeance and his inherent need to protect his little sister drove him

We know Kaz is shit when it comes to being around sick people now (understandably) but the one exception would be his sister should she fall ill.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still horrible at handling it, or that he wouldn’t go into a full on panic spiral at the tiniest sign of her getting sick

But, he was also unable to pull himself from her side until she healed.

He refused to ever risk being away from her while she was ill ever again.

As far as his touch phobia, that undoubtedly extended to his sister as well, although he truly hated himself for it (more so than when it came to his touch phobia in general).

But, it was out of his control. Besides things got better with time.

It started rough and killed his spirit each time when his little 7yr old sister wanted to hold her surviving brother’s hand while walking through the “scary” streets of the Barrel or otherwise simply sought physical comfort from him.

Especially because he’d once been able to offer that to her and he knew she was old enough to remember that and he saw the clear proof of that in her sad eyes every time he pulled away

But by that point, he’d suffered the worst of it. So he knew they’d power through

The worst was when he made it back to her and he’d had to explain to her that jordie was not coming back. As if her sobs and screams weren’t painful enough for Kaz, she tried to cling onto him for support, only to find herself confused and more distraught when he scrambled away

With time, the two orphans inevitably took over the town.

At first Kaz wouldn’t let his sister get involved

Until he realized that was futile, especially if he wanted her to start safe

He had caught her defiantly trying to help on her own, so he eventually caved and taught her everything she needed to now how to do and brought her into the business

Inej and Kaz’s interaction about crows was actually similar to what happened with his sister years before and that’s what made him choose to name their new elite crewmembers and dare his sister say friends, his crows.

Kaz used his power in the Barrel to create a safety shield around his sister

He knew she was a vulnerability to him and in turn was at risk by association, so most people didn’t know she was his sister

She’d been hurt at first when he told her this was how they’d go about their new life, after all, she was so young and didn’t understand but he did it for her sake

And if people did find out about them being siblings, they’d assume that she and Kaz must not be as close as normal siblings because they saw the business relationship only and assumed that’s all there was between them even when finding out about the blood relation (it helped that Kaz always made a name for himself as someone who didn’t care about anyone else), which worked to keep people from using her as bait or something against Kaz. Which was what he’d masterminded of course.

She was 7 so she didn’t understand the need to change their last names and start fresh but she trusted Kaz fully

She is and was the only person he ever took flack from and or allowed/allows to yell or argue etc with him but only in private

Kaz knew his sister would be struggling with Jordie’s death, as he himself was and still is

But he knew he was not going to be much help

He did as much as he could, if she’d suffered anxiety or panic attacks, he was there to offer verbal assistance and support

And he helped her take part in getting revenge for what they went through

But he couldn’t talk about it. It was still too much and talking was no longer a strength of his.

He couldn’t talk to her when she was younger as he needed her to simply follow along with what he said and believe this was just the way things went all along

But as they got older he still found himself unable to talk to her about it

But that’s why he finally told Inej just enough for her to know that his sister would be having similar issues as him since she was so worried about his behaviors and in turn, he knew Inej would go to her and be able to offer the support he couldn’t

Again, I could go on and on, but I loved this idea!

Kaz Taglist: @dil3mma @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @winstonthecow22 @alex-kazbrekkersimp @wolfmoonmusic @phoenix666stuff @kentucky-criedfricken @twlegit @valeridarkness @shara-ne @crazyhearttragedy @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @el-de-phi @adalia-jaycee @bookloverfilmoholic @beekeepingageissome

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[useless-catalanfacts]

The Catalan authors who were kept out of the Nobel Literature Prize for being Catalan

Did you know that there have been a handful of Catalan writers who were candidates to win the Nobel Literature Prize, but because of Spanish interference they never did?

The Nobel Prize discloses its debate and reasoning process 50 years after each edition. This means that we already know the details of what happened in the earliest editions of this Prize, which was started in 1901.

The name of the Catalan play-writer Àngel Guimerà (author of Marta of the Lowlands, Mar i cel, La filla del mar...), whose works have been translated to many languages and played all around Europe and the Americas, with many film and opera adaptations, sounded often in the Nobel committee. He was presented as a candidate to win the Nobel Prize 17 times in a row, since 1907 until his death in 1924. In the editions of 1917 and 1919, many were convinced he would win. However, the declassified documents show why he didn't: as written by the man who was then president of the Nobel Committee, Haralg Härne, Guimerà wasn't given the prize "to avoid hurting the national pride of the Spanish". In 1919, Härne writes that the objective of the Nobel Prize is to promote peace and thus to award Guimerà and show support for a minority culture would be to encourage internal conflict (🤦). The Academy decided that they couldn't give a prize to Guimerà "before awarding another writer who expresses himself in the most ancient noble language of the country" (weird way to mean "the official language", aka Spanish, because they surely didn't mean Basque). In summary, if a Catalan is to be considered, he must always be second to a Spanish man. Even when the Catalan is, in the words of the Nobel Academy, "the most eminent writer of our times", he can never be considered an equal, always must be behind.

Àngel Guimerà wrote in the Catalan language, which was discriminated against by Spanish and considered an enemy by the Spanish government and much of Spanish society. Guimerà was a firm defender of the right to use the Catalan language and that nobody should be forced to speak the imperial languages instead of their own, and was involved with the political movement for the rights of Catalan people. For this reason, every time the famous Swedish academy was considering Guimerà, the Spanish Royal Academy of Language (RAE) fought it with all its might. Nowadays, Guimerà's theatre plays continue to move thousands of spectators every year.

The same happened again with the poet Josep Carner. In the 1960s, Josep Carner was on exile, because he was a Catalan poet writing in Catalan and who stood against the fascist dictatorship of Spain, which persecuted the Catalan language and identity. Famous writers from around the world, including T. S. Eliot, François Mauriac, Giuseppe Ungaretti and Roger Caillois, supported Josep Carner's candidacy to win the Nobel, but the Spanish Government did everything possible to obstruct it. We don't know if Carner would have won or not, but he was deprived of even trying because of the Spanish government's hatred of Catalan.

Something similar seems to have happened between the 1970s and 1990s to three other Catalan poets: Salvador Espriu, J. V. Foix, and Miquel Martí i Pol, where they did not get any support from the Spanish authorities, so we don't know how it would have ended up.

Another example of what it means to have a state actively working against you because of bigotry against your cultural group.

Sources: book Det litterära Nobelpriset by the president of the Nobel Committee Kjell Espmarck, Pep Antoni Roig (El Nacional), Joan Lluís-Lluís (El Punt Avui), and Jordi Marrugat (Institut Ramon Llull).

[palestinianhadeell]

🚨Emergency, ❗medical appeal I am calling for your help, my brother has suffered from slow internal bleeding, he is vomiting blood and blood has entered his eyes, he needs to leave Gaza🍉🇵🇸 and receive treatment, please $5000 is the price of his exit to save him, please do not let him die, even if donations of $10 will help, I am begging you🙏🏻🙏🏻💔https://www.gofundme.com/f/iam-palestinain-in-gaza?utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link&utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&lang=en_US

@90-ghost @v4nhelsing @uroko @jordie-the-shorty @forumm

[rietveild]

what was it about jesper fahey that his words managed to get so deep beneath his skin ? should nearly anyone else breathe an implication that kaz was controlled by his rage, he'd show them just how slow and methodical his rage could look. perhaps he shouldn't have come. jesper always seemed to see him in a way that felt dangerously close to the truth.

kaz reaches for the drink that previously sat untouched. he takes a long sip before he considers answering the question, forcing jesper to sit with the silence. ❝ what do you think my calm looks like, jesper ? hands clean, easy jobs ? ❞ his vengeance kept him tethered, kept him patient. brick by brick — it'd been the only thing stopping him as a child from walking up to pekka rollins and stabbing an oyster shucking knife through his throat. it'd been the only thing that stopped him from murdering van eck on goedmedbridge when he saw inej shackled and bound. it gave him clarity.

❝ have you been getting nightmares ? ❞ the question comes suddenly and with a harsh change of subject, but the memories of his the wraith and helvar make his blood boil in such a way that he has little interest in discussing himself. he could slip up, reveal too much. ❝ when you came down, you mentioned you were having trouble sleeping. you've been jumpy, more than usual. ❞

brekker had a habit of standing on the precipice of true, sincere understanding of others — not the kind he used to judge people for how easily they could be conned, not the kind that determined if someone was enough of a threat to not make deals with. no, it was just honest understanding, where it felt sometimes as if kaz could read minds, and jesper often saw it flicker in his eyes before whatever controlled his bastardousness (his heart, his brain, his soul? who knew anymore) burnt it to a blackened husk.

jesper watches as the reminder of the gap in their ranks, the reminder of helvar, impacts in the wrong way. he watches as kaz's voice rises and his eyes grow wide, and he watches as kaz — logical, quick witted kaz — butchers the sentiment behind responsibility to the dregs. he can't even tell if it was on purpose or not.

i won't betray that responsibility. jesper's expression slams shut.

"can you, though?" he says it softly, curiosity cut through with something wary; he wants to believe kaz can plan his way out of anything; he wants to believe that the irrationality rollins inspires in kaz can be tempered, or kept on a leash. he wants to believe kaz. "is there anything that brings you back, when you get in over your head?"

[grimbanes]

Goodnight, Sweetheart.

KAZ BREKKER X GN!READER

Summary: Kaz Brekker didn't need a reason and yet he kept finding them to loiter. Every night, without fail. Kaz Brekker also didn't like to be teased.

WC: 2.2k A/N: so this is my first time writing grishverse fanfiction and my head is currently full of mr brekker. this is loosely inspired by im so hot by chrissy. i have no idea for to format these. kaz might be slightly OOC, but he's a secret softie, we all know it. NO BETA, we die like jordie.

“Why would I bother with anybody else?” 

It was a rhetorical question spoken by a humoured voice, cadence lilted with confidence, dripping venom and a little bit of sarcasm. It remained that way as the Y/N continued to raise a groomed brow and lean their weight into their hip, long lashes blinking pointedly, briefly, to the patron they were serving. They kept themself poised as if expecting a real answer - one that wouldn’t come, of course.

And Kaz? Kaz was watching the exchange with that one might call amusement. What he would call it though, despite internal disagreement, was annoyance. And maybe that was also true, if the involuntary yet impatient tap of his gloved finger against the bar’s surface was any indication. It wasn’t rare for these exchanges to occur, expected even, as the Crow Club heaved with foreigners, tourists, dock workers and other kinds of uncivilised folk praying to win big. 

Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason. That was the word on the street. That was the reputation he had spent years cultivating. He repeated day in and day out. It hung in his mind with every ledger and document he flicked through, wrote on, and triple-checked. No job too messy, no job too small. Dirtyhands. Bastard of the Barrel. So then why did Kaz Brekker have a hard time finding a reason to speak to this person that spoke in riddles, threats and simultaneously was the most infectiously pleasant being in the entire room. 

The barhand scoffed at something the man had said to them, adjusting their grown out hair in its fancy clip against the back of their skull and rolling up their billowing shirt sleeves. It didn’t take a criminal mastermind like Kaz to figure out the exchange was going to get violent. He merely nursed his whiskey, neat, and watched from above the rim of his glass, finger still tapping against the bar. 

“Careful love, you don’t want to bruise that pretty face of yours,” Jesper’s voice spoke as is from nowhere, the sharpshooter sidling up beside the drunken man with noisy footsteps and his usual grin decorating his face in that way that had Kaz grimacing, turning away with a twitch of his eyebrow and sipping his drink. He might be what some might call a friend, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get annoyed by the constant buzz of energy. 

“My face is pretty regardless,” That unwavering confidence, tongue in cheek and lips pulling up into a mischievous grin and Kaz’s eyes were on them again, stormy and studying with every movement of their body. From them hopping up on the bar and smoothly twirling themself over it, landing on their boots and bringing a fingerless glove covered hand square into a man’s cheekbone. It only ever took them one hit, the poor receiver crumpling to the floor in a drunken stupor and asking for his mother. 

“While that is undoubtedly true, that is actually my job and boss will have me banned from Three Man Bramble for another week,” Jesper’s awkward yet charismatic hand gestures soon followed, ringed finger pointing to the lump of a man lying unconscious beside the barstools. Kaz could almost hear himself saying ‘Jesper, guard the door’ or ‘No games for a month’, but he chose not to, too busy trying to figure out why their stature and usual weekly knockouts had become a thing of routine for him. 

Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason and yet he came up with many when he had hired Y/N. They’d been dancing for money, a shift of silks and sheer fabrics, eyes hooded. That wasn’t all. As he had taken his time to study them, hands gripped to his cane and jaw tense, he realised the sway of choreography as deliberate as it was captivating. Each sway of material ended up weighted with deft fingers slipping purses from pockets, unchaining pocket watches from chains, swiping earrings from Mercher women’s pierced ears. He’d come back time and time again after noticing.

It hadn’t taken much convincing to get them to work the Crow Club, extending a gloved hand and introducing himself. They offered him a flirtatious smile, a flutter of their lashes and had accepted the silent offer, seemingly entertained with the mere existence of Kaz in their space. He didn’t like it, hated it even, but it was magnetic. It became routine to creep from his office, scan the Club’s floor for an hour and then wander his way to the furthest side of the bar and nurse a single whiskey all night. Most of the time he didn’t even finish it. He didn’t want to drink, not really. 

He just wanted to learn. To figure out what it was about Y/N that had him irritated, angered, on edge and utterly bewitched.

“Kaz won’t mind me defending myself. Little me all defenceless, what else could I have done?”

It was meant to be teasing, not meant for him to hear, an inside joke. Kaz’s jaw tensed and he felt his teeth grind, setting his glass down on the bartop and feeling his shoulders straighten as he gripped his cane and tapped it loudly on the rickety floorboard below.

“You could start by doing your jobs,” He hissed, gloved hand tensing around the head of his cane and eyes locked on the pair as they turned to him. He didn’t miss the way Jesper’s bare fingers were seeking comfort on his revolvers, or the way Y/N’s lips pulled into what was almost a… a pout? A weird frown?

“Sweetheart, don’t be so mean,” Y/N huffed, arms crossing over their loose cotton blouse, head tilting in that infuriating way that had Kaz frowning, forehead creasing and impatience rising.

Except, he didn’t know what he was impatient for, what was making him wait, but it angered him more than anything ever could. Just what about them made it so simple to  get under his skin so easily? He felt his heartbeat fasten uncomfortably in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his body and he felt the heat in his cheeks - either from the drink or irritation nagging in every fibre of his being. His black shirt suddenly felt too hot, his usual vest too tight and he felt his hands tighten around his cane, tapping the crow’s head uncomfortably fast. He had to calm down, it was not the place to lose his temper and start a shouting match on a day where the kruge was flowing into their awaiting coffers. 

“Is he blushing?”

Kaz’s eyes snapped to Jesper’s smiling form, meeting sparkling eyes that stared at him with wonderment. He didn’t like it. He raised himself from his seat, noisily banging his cane against the floor and storming past the sharpshooter, mood even more foul than it had been prior. How could it not be? Dirtyhands did not blush like some schoolboy unable to speak a word. Like a Rietveld boy. The thought invaded his mind before he could stop it. He limped his way to the staircase and gripped it tightly with his gloved hand, hoisting his leg up the steps and ignoring the creaking, aching pain starting to crawl its way up his leg. 

Kaz Brekker was nobody’s sweetheart.

┕━☽【❖】☾━┙

Y/N sighed as they finished wiping down the surface of the mahogany bar, polishing down and removing every last stain before it could set into the nice wooden surface. Their tired eyes suddenly felt even more tired as they drifted around the empty club, scaling the tables and turned over chairs, over splintering floorboards and stone walls until they fell on a single glass of whiskey left untouched on the edge of the bar. They reached their hand over to clasp it with shaking fingers, disappointment evident in the motion. 

He hadn’t visited in a week and they didn’t realise how badly they missed his company.

His watchful eyes, his gloved hands that tightened on his cane as if ready to intervene in an altercation if they needed it, his unwavering stare a storm of angry tidal waves, lashing at them with unspoken words and a bit of something else. They missed the subtle way he would check his pocket watch, deem it good enough and allow them to close early regardless of the booming business. They missed the way he would nurse a single drink all night, never really finishing it and keeping a more relaxed eye on the club’s floor. They missed his presence, no matter how quiet it was, no matter if they didn’t speak. He was like a shadow, always there, just out the corner of their eye if they ever needed them.

Of course, Y/N knew exactly where he was. Holed up in his office, head sunk into numbers and names and bribes and whatever else it was that crime bosses did. He was a busy man, a workaholic but he was also… so much more. A complex puzzle yet the most open book and each page turned by itself, in little ways. They liked to think that the two of them had a somewhat friendship, even though they didn’t talk much. When they did, it was usually Y/N flirting with him and the man ignoring it with a blank stare and a stern ‘get back to work or else you’ll be finding it elsewhere’.

Careful fingertips smoothed over the rim of the glass cradled closely, the urge to befriend the most terrifying man in Ketterdam stronger than ever but they just didn’t quite know how to go about it. Instead, they turned their exhausted gaze to the amber liquid that had been sitting out since opening. Untouched. Ignored. Again. They’d even seen him on the floor that night. With a sigh, they brought the drink to their lips and threw it back, swallowing the burning liquid with a grimace. Y/N really didn’t know how Kaz managed to stomach the awful drink.

“I don’t pay you to drink on the job,” That rasping voice spoke, interrupting their stupor and drawing their eyes from the glass to the staircase that led to the office. And there he stood, or rather leaned, against the metal railing and what could almost be amusement on his handsome face. His lips quirked up in that arrogant way they do when he knows he’s being clever, that twitch in his dark brow when he’s caught somebody cheating at his tables, the confidence in his gait despite the limp. 

“My shift is over, actually,” Y/N realised how silly it sounded the moment it left their lips. Of course Kaz knew when their shift was over, he knew what time the Crow Club closed. It was his, of course he knew. The Bastard of the Barrell had clearly cracked what could only be a joke. And it was funny. It was really funny, actually. Hilarious even. They didn’t even realise that they’d started giggling, covering their hand to stifle the laugh and grip onto the bar, refusing to let the laughter fit take over them - had the whiskey gone straight to their head or was it just the sheer exhaustion? 

The uneven, out of rhythm walking signalled Kaz’s presence approaching even though everybody knew he could be just as stealthy as the Wraith if he really wanted to be. Rather than sliding into his usual seat, he chose to place himself right in front of Y/N and rest an arm on the edge of the freshly clean bar. The first thing Y/N noticed was his lack of coat and hat, still just in his usual daily attire that signified he was not yet leaving for the Slat.

“You stole my drink,” He stated, fingers tapping gloved hands against the wood in the way he so often did. This time it was slower, offbeat, contemplative. Y/N raised a brow to his statement, glass set aside and lips pulling into a line.

“I pay for it, so it doesn’t matter if I drink it,” Y/N smoothly replied. Truthfully, they did not know what to do. What to say. They did not really speak much, and when they did it was polite but short, to the point and didn’t require much thinking. Much feeling. 

Kaz’s inquisitive eyebrow raised and it was then Y/N took in his features. He looked tired, more than usual. The purple that blossomed beneath his forget-me-not irises was deeper, blooming in violet and standing out against the sheer alabaster of his pale skin. Brekker’s hair remained dishevelled, stray ink tumbling over his forehead where it had slipped from the usual slickback he wore. Had he not been sleeping well? 

“I’ll have it paid back to you by the month’s end. Go home,” His voice rumbled, finger ceasing its tapping. Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, offering to pay back the tab. Not offering, stating that he was going to. 

“It’s fine, keep the money,” Y/N offered a small smile, shifting to remove the apron from around their waist and fold it. They tucked it into a little cubby beneath the bar, shutting it with a click and straightening their back. They must be hallucinating but the joy that caused their heart rate to stutter increase felt too real to be a hallucination. Saints, they needed to sleep.

“Month’s end.” Kaz didn’t look away from his cane as he spoke, tapping it against the floor and looking completely and utterly endearing to Y/N in the Club’s warm lighting. Suddenly, he looked his age. 

“Goodnight, Mister Brekker.”

“Goodnight… Sweetheart.”

[freakcliff]

Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom Fic recs

heartsigh by andromeda3116. 24k, M

Inej, the tumultuous first year after getting her ship, and Kaz, in that order.

Sankta Margaretha and Other Tales of Sorrow by oneofthewednesdays. 18k

When his daughter was stolen from beneath his nose on the outskirts of Os Kervo, Samir Ghafa lost his faith in the saints. After a letter arrives bearing the insignia of the Lantsov double-eagle, he finds his hope rekindled. But when he learns of the demon of Ketterdam, he begins to fear once more...

By the Book by marycontraire. 4k

“You look like a pirate,” Kaz says. “I am a pirate,” Inej reminds him as they emerge into the dark storage room. Kaz holds his bonelight aloft to illuminate the rows and rows of garments.  “Not this morning,” he says. “This morning you’re the bride of a respectable gentleman farmer."

Duplicity by marycontraire. 4k

Kaz Brekker has two reasons for everything.

No Echo by marycontraire. 14k, M

Kaz and Inej visit Ravka. She confronts her past; he makes a decision about his future.

what the water gave me by 19burstraat. 23k

In time, he almost forgot what he had once been able to do. Water was his most ardent foe, not an ally. Water was the bodymen’s boats, Reaper’s Barge, and Jordie’s corpse. The water had given, and could give him, nothing that he wanted. It would make no bargain with him that could be worth it– so he would not try. He eked out his fortune and his revenge with every bloody punch and petty swindle and broken bone. He ignored the hiss and slap of the filthy water in the canals that wended through the city, the roar of the waves at the harbour that smashed boats to pieces, the sinuous curl of the mist on wet nights that got you jumped if you weren’t paying close enough attention. The Ketterdam water had a touch of the mocking about it– a determination to be as awful and monstrous and polluted as he was. But Kaz didn’t need a reminder of what he’d become. The water had his brother; it would not have him, too. Assuming Kaz was a Tidemaker; what, then?

High Sentence by heliocharis. M, 25k.

On a cool spring evening in the third year after she first left Ketterdam, Inej Ghafa steps off the docks at Fifth Harbour and walks into the scene of a crime. She’s back in the city on the tail of a slaver, and she needs the right crew for the job. All they have to do is gather some intelligence, do a bit of thieving, and get a whole lot of particular eccentrics in the same place at once. And maybe try not to kill each other before then.

Guns and Knives and Forks by heliocharis. 31k.

“I think I’ll have a sable trim on my coat,” Kaz said. “Is it worth it to upset the Ravkans, do you think?” “What was it you said to me once?” Kaz asked. “It’s perfectly acceptable for one country to exercise its sovereign right to get rich by undermining the sovereign laws and rules of other countries?” He leaned back and crossed his legs, bad over good, and brought his cigarette to his mouth. “And it’s not even the country getting rich. It’s me.”

After the success of his first international escapade, Kaz Brekker takes up a few easier ones in the interest of supplementary earnings. The food trade is stable, reliably profitable, and gives him far less trouble than some of his business in the city. Until someone threatens the wrong ship.

call it by name by phyrrlc. M, 24k

Don’t you despair Though my little words can’t compare I’ll always be here with you behind closed eyes It’s a terrible idea, Inej thinks, asking Kaz to come back to Ravka with her. She asks him anyway.

collision course by cameliawrites. M, 10k

My dearest Inej— (Nina writes,) —don’t learn too late how sweet it can be. . . . Inej adjusts to Kaz the way that winter adjusts to spring: she thaws, and thaws, and thaws—and then she utterly melts.

roomy, and drenched in sunlight by Whitherward. M, 61k.

It was a story they’d told each other often, over too much kvas. A running joke between them, what they would do if they ever decided to leave it all behind. She’d never dreamed they actually would. Inej, and Kaz, and what comes after: a story in three parts.

[downthetubes]

Inaugural Sophie Castille Awards for Comics in Translation Finalists decided

The finalists for the inaugural Sophie Castille Awards for Comics in Translation have been decided

The finalists for the inaugural Sophie Castille Awards for Comics in Translation have been decided, with the winner to be announced at this year’s Lakes International Comic Art Festival (29th September – 1st October) in Bowness-on-Windermere. Sophie Castille Awards judges Karen Green, Peter Kessler and Dean Simons decide the finalists for 2023 The three judges – Karen Green, Peter Kessler and…

[just-jordie-things]

twenty six fucking thousand words spiderman megumi you are a goddess jordie

i'm all giggling and squealing over him like i have a middle school crush. gosh i've never wanted to kiss someone and slap someone at the same time more than him. i could just eat him up he is so cute aoudhcbldb like i do not even have the words my internal monologue is all gibberish over him

-🫧anon

my friend you have been thoroughly brain rotted 🫶🩷 and i completely understand. spiderman megumi might just be the love of my life. i finished that fic like a week ago and left it in my drafts. i wrote almost all in one sitting like a maniac. he was and still is my every waking thought <3 i got no brain left due to the rot <3