#just afterthoughts I couldn’t make into a post

[paradoxolotl]

Your ™️ is leaving very good tags that deserve recognition

Oh gosh my tags 🫣 that���s where the brain starts to dissolve

(I’m so touched though thank you)

[strawberrysainz]

romanticism. charles leclerc

“ being charles leclerc’s assistant was a piece of work. you loved him though. ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning — crude language, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, semi-mature scenes.

word count: 2.8k

“Do you want a biscuit?” He pointed to the box of red, racing-themed biscuits, mouth already full with one. “Please don’t tell anyone.” He added as an afterthought, and you snorted to yourself, setting down a notebook to take a gingerbread man decorated as him.

The instagram handle for the baker was loud and proud on the box, and you took a photo of the little Charles, making a note to post it later.

Qualifying hadn’t gone very well for Charles, hence the angry biscuit-eating. He’d ended up third, but an incident in the famous tunnel of the Principality had cost him three more places. His white suit was blinding in the tiny room, and his frustrated little huffs as he flung things this way and that made you slightly on edge.

You had been scrambling to catch up with him this season; you had been dealing with a family crisis until Miami, leaving Charles with some guy as his assistant for the past races. You had thought he was decent at first, but Charles was a precise guy; if he was relying on you to keep it together at work for him, then you’d better fucking do it the way he wanted. Even you didn’t mess with Charles on a race weekend. He was so nervous or upset or he was the happiest guy in the world - it didn’t matter, you just had to be consistent, comforting and take things as they went.

You swore he could’ve kissed you when you arrived on Monday.

But here you were on Saturday, still uneasy; Monaco had always freaked you out - you didn’t believe in the curse because Charles scorned it, but a part of you had anticipated that a stroke of bad luck would always have its way here. It was nine in the evening, and the crowds were still insane. You were prepared to walk back to your apartment at this point, even if it would take you about an hour with the blocked off roads. You handed Charles his clean clothes to change into after his shower, and you were about to go home for the night -

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

You tilted your head. You knew Charles’ new girlfriend had arrived this morning, surely he’d do something with her?

He must’ve seen the look on your face, and his unsureness- the way he couldn’t believe what he were saying- made you embarrassed.

“No, it’s alright. Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll struggle to get back to mine anyway.” You said abruptly. “Must I make you an Instagram post while you’re in the shower?”

He nodded, unlocking his phone. You immediately went into Google Drive to get some pictures as he left, when a message from Alexandra came in.

You blanched; usually, bar your forgetfulness, you put the phone on the do not disturb function so that you didn’t see what he was getting sent- but the full stops and seriousness made you guiltily keep a finger on the notification.

You’re being ridiculous. I can’t give up my job to come cheer you on. I know it’s Monaco but I thought I made it clear. I can’t make it after all, C. My job is equally as important as yours. You’ll be fine.

You inhaled sharply; she was pissed. You thought she was reasonable, but you knew how much it meant to him to have people here; he struggled in Monaco, and even if he didn’t admit it he was so anxious to please.

I’m sure she’ll have a little fuckin hug and a kiss for you. I’m not a cheerleader, that’s her job, Charles. Watch her under the podium instead. Or maybe not after all- I saw you got P6

Talk tomorrow

Your eyes widened. Was she talking about you?

You were being too nosy. You selected the pictures and put them together, locking his phone on the caption section so he’d write what he’d like. As you opened the door to leave, he was there, his eyes meeting yours; and he must’ve known that you knew something because he lowered his gaze.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said quietly, patting his arm. “Sleep well.”

There was a desperation in his tone when he asked you again to supper.

Well, how the fuck could you say no? He was clearly desperate.

“I’ll invite Joris and Lorenzo, and Arthur.” He said quickly, and you sighed; “The usual?” It was a little tapas restaurant 15 minutes away.

You closed the door then, confused, and walked away, opening your phone to call Joris for a lift.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You were in the front seat surrounded by the familiar smell of Joris’ car; you two had become good friends- always together, waiting, working because of Charles.

You were busy typing about the gingerbread man when Joris asked you about the lack of Alex (Charles had probably been talking about her first Grand Prix together with him).

You paused. “They seem to be having some sort of rift. Not sure. Ask him.” You said shortly; you tried to stay out of his love life as much as you could. You’d liked his previous girlfriend to an extent, but the final events leading up to their breakup made it awkward for you to say goodbye. You tried desperately to be professional but at that point you were a really close friend of Charles’.

Joris nodded. You two did enjoy a paddock gossip now and again, but when it involved Charles alone you really weren’t into it.

You ended up taking longer to get to the restaurant because you made him stop at your house - you weren’t going to turn up in Ferrari gear - and showered, put new clothes on and sprinted back to his car in the drizzle.

Walking through the restaurant to your table in the corner, Joris was busy chattering on about the home GP content he was busy with; you were fiddling with your hair, your bracelets, your clothes, irritated to be there. Trying to be normal around Charles in non-work situations like he didn’t fucking employ you always stressed you out.

Not to mention he was being so awkward as of late.

You slid into the bench next to Lorenzo, giving him a warm pat on the arm as Joris sat on your other side. Charles was smiling at the sight of you - you greeted Arthur, and then him, and you were presented with some iced tea (no one drank next to Charles on a Saturday before the race).

You were lost in the conversation between Arthur and Charles (Arthur hadn’t done so well in F2 today either) when Lorenzo caught your attention.

“How are you?” You adored the way he spoke French; it was low and comfortable, in the kind of way that reminded you of a warm hug.

“Alright.” You said, giggling, and he nodded seriously. He knew about your stress - he’d never raced as intensely as his two brothers - and you’d always found him a comfort.

He was busy telling you about something - a trip with his girlfriend - when you heard the distress in Charles’ tone and turned to him. He was staring at the paella in front of him.

Joris was silent; Arthur just looked lost.

“What’s wrong?” You said quietly, and you noticed a few stubborn tears in his eyes that he was dying not to let fall.

“I’m just not feeling good about the race.” His tone was terribly melancholic, and you felt a bit frozen. “I- Cha-“

Lorenzo was stiff; you blinked.

Charles sat up straight. “It’s okay. Sorry.” His tone indicated no more talking about it, and Joris launched into a conversation about something, Arthur hurriedly joining in. You made eye contact with him sternly; we were talking about this later.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

Supper had come and gone, the bill had been paid, and you found yourself alone in Charles’ car at 10:53 pm on the way back to your apartment.

“Please come in.” You had said to him, after he refused to go home immediately to sleep; promising a cup of tea before he got home.

You had dropped your keys by the front door and entered, your cat greeting the two of you. “What’s wrong?” You said, starting the kettle with a tenderness in your tone you could never replicate with anyone else.

Charles was just sighing, complaining, choking with emotion as he spoke of his fears - dear God, he was struggling - you poured milk and sugar, biting a lip, and eventually it became too much that you brought him in for a tight hug in the light of your kitchen, a song playing in the corner.

You pulled away, and to your surprise he was looking into your eyes softly, a gentleness in his expression that freaked you out. You felt your body soften as his hand met your hip, and you knew, despite yourself, you could never refuse him.

“Cha…” you murmured, gaze on his lips. Holy shit, this was so wrong.

He let out a little sigh that had you going insane, and you turned around to fetch the tea, overwhelmed; this was the only way you could prevent whatever what was happening, not happen.

He murmured your name again, and you turned around slowly, guiltily watching his beautiful face, certain feelings you’d suffocated return just like that.

His hand met your arm, gentle pressure prompting you to put the tea down. You gasped quietly as his hand on your hip brought you together, eyes wide and wanting.

He met your lips with his, and it was like a wildfire that burned, bright and haunting, kissing you everywhere, his touch burning, thigh in between your legs, arms and hands touching you everywhere, you were gasping and he was moaning, the desire in the air thick, scary, and his facial hair tickled you in a delicious way that made you shiver, eyes lidded, dark, and suddenly he was moving to take his shirt off and you stepped back, terrified, lonely.

“Charles, you have a girlfriend.” You said lowly, hair messy. You noticed your lipstick all over his lips and face.

He looked scared of himself. “Fuck. I have to go. I need to sleep.”

“And talk to Alex.” You said, scaring yourself with the heaviness of your tone, and he was gathering his things, tea forgotten.

When he left, you waved him out, mouth wobbling, and you burst into tears after closing the door, clutching your mouth, your sobs shaking you, sinking down to the floor.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You’d agreed to lift Joris the previous night, so you were glad to ditch seeing Charles until you really had to - an hour later, you walked into his driver’s room; he was doing some exercises with Andrea while the social media intern videoed him. You stayed out of sight of the camera, leaning against the wall, trying to distract yourself from the previous night’s events.

You were wearing more makeup than usual to hide your puffy eyes from the tears last night, determined to act as if nothing had happened. You really hated that Charles had cheated on his girlfriend with you; you could put it down to him being vulnerable, but you were at fault as much as he was.

When everyone had left, Charles was left on the couch staring sheepishly at you. You crossed your arms, an invisible ocean separating you two, you two continents.

“I told Alex.” He said calmly.

“And?”

“She said she can’t be with me if I’m not being faithful and she’s not there all the time. We’ve only been together three months. She’s not into it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was my fault. I made a move when I wasn’t meant to. I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

From the way he was moaning yesterday, you weren’t sure if that was true.

“Okay.” You snort, moving to open the door. ���Driver’s parade in 20 minutes. I’ll see you later?”

He nodded, waving a goodbye as you left.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

P6, like he started.

It was consistent, Joris had joked in your ear as you shook your head, trying not to laugh. He’d had a pretty good race, the team hadn’t fucked up, it was just the way it went.

He had been busy with press and much more before he ended up back with Andrea where you and Joris had been waiting for about three hours (you were also a bit drunk; you’d had too many glasses of champagne from Paddock Club).

“Hi!” You giggled, high-fiving him. “Good job.” Joris also cackled, and Charles shot you a glare. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” You said firmly, shaking your head. “I am very sober.” You said, and Joris nodded seriously. “We had a little bit of champagne.”

Andrea gestures to the bottle that was on the table beside you. “What’s that?”

“For Cha! A well done.” You beamed, and presented it to him. Charles couldn’t help but laugh. “I am going to have to drive you two back in her car, no? Put my bicycle in the back.”

You and Joris were squealing with laughter at the idea, and the two standing before you were laughing at you.

“Come, you fucking idiots.”

“No! You can’t insult me, you kiiiiissssed me,” you giggled, and Joris didn’t catch it, but Andrea did, shooting Charles a glare, who if looks could kill, would’ve shot you dead. He looked so pissed.

“Come,” he snapped, and Andrea said that he’d take Joris.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

He pulled up to your apartment. “Come in.” You said, and Charles scoffed. “Not for a long time now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You looked so vulnerable, rain falling on your head as you peered down at him. “Are you taking my car? I’ll come fetch it tomorrow.” You said softly. “Thanks for taking me. I’m sorry, I was stupid. I needed to relax for one fucking minute this week.”

Charles’ eyes softened, and he opened his mouth to say something before he closed it, nodding curtly, and drove away.

You couldn’t differentiate the raindrops from your tears, forcefully wiping them away.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You knocked on his door at midday the next afternoon, wanting to thank him before flying to Spain. You hated the energy he’d given you since you’d kissed; it was wildly different and you loathed it.

He answered a minute or so later, glasses on and a scruffy jumper, eyes tired. “Hi,” you were out of breath all of a sudden; he was so terribly attractive.

He looked surprised to see you. “I came to say thank you. And get my keys.”

“Come in. Do you want coffee?” He said instead, and you felt a bit of déjà vu from two nights before, hauntingly familiar.

You loved his apartment. The red and white was a colour scheme you adored, and you sat on the sofa while he made you a coffee, one spoon of sugar and a splash of milk just how you liked.

“I want to say sorry for how weird I was this week. I just hate the Grand Prix in Monaco, you know?” You said hurriedly, and he set down the coffee, sitting down next to you. He laughed. “I know. I know.” It had been this way since 2021- when you had started working for him- and he kept having shit races here.

He held out his hand. You squeezed it. “Let’s move on from it.”

He smirked. “Am I such a bad kisser?”

Your jaw dropped, throwing your head back laughing. “Cha!”

He was dead serious. “Why do you want to move on?”

“I work for you?” You said, disbelievingly, and his mouth twitched. “Charles, come on.”

He picked up the mug and took a sip.

You quite literally wanted to die.

He set it down again, looking seriously at you. “I don’t regret the kiss, if you want to know.”

You stare at him. “It literally broke you and your girlfriend up.”

“I like you.” He shrugged. “More than her. More than I thought.”

You laugh, bringing the coffee to your lips. “And when I saw your lipstick on my face…” he trailed off, blushing, “Fuck.”

You swear you were as red as a mother fucking tomato at this point.

“Slow down.” You retorted, trying not to spit the coffee out.

“Kiss me.”

You stare at him again. Was he fucking delusional?

“What?” You hiss.

He rolls his eyes and kisses you.

You’re pulled onto his lap, breath gone, kissing him as hard as you can. Your head is thrown back as he goes for your neck, and the sounds he’s making make you moan.

“You’re really hot with glasses on,” you tell him, and he falters, giggling, before carrying on.

This time you let him take his shirt off, matching him.

You fall back onto the couch. Those eyes on yours, the eyes of your beautiful boy.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

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thank you, monaco 💋💋

view all comments (456)

lorenzotl Padel boyssss

user i wish I had your job girl

carlossainz55 Please give me a shirt @charles_leclerc

maisonde.monaco ❤️‍🔥💋

user So glad to see you back in the paddock again!!

thanks for reading bestie ❤️‍🔥

masterlist

[qiupachups]

miles.g / wiles

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 👾💭

contents: general hcs, mention of his father’s death, i call 42-miles ‘wiles’, me sorta bullying him

a/n: after a lot of procrastination and harassment gentle encouragement from @vhstown i’m finally posting my hcs. :3c (they’ve been sitting here since july)

Despite his tough guy exterior and criminal career, he's actually a massive nerd geek. Like: gundham, comics, posters all over his room.

Until you bring up those interests, he won't mention them. But once you start a conversation about them, he can tell you all the lore front to back or tell you where and when each collectible is from. Just listening to Wiles and nodding along will make his day.

Accepting help from others is not an option. Ever. He's an overly D.I.Y guy since his father's death and it's staying that way.

... unless you're very close to him. Wiles will begrudgingly accept your help and then be adamant on repaying you. No matter how trivial it was, he'll show his gratitude through service.

Wiles has great memory and knows all the lyrics to his favourite songs. Go through his playlist and pick something at random- he'll recite them flawlessly!

A good memory also helps with remembering those flashes of songs playing on your lock screen. Just a split second glance? He's adding it to his playlist, maybe listening to it as he works on his latest gear.

Would be a straight A student if he were there half the time. The only thing keeping his total grades down is attendance, where he’s often absent.

However, if he’s in a group project with you, Wiles will put more effort into it. Getting a ‘C’ or GPA point lower is fine if it means keeping Brooklyn safer. What’s not fine is him being the reason for your lower marks.

Unlike his counterpart from 1610, Wiles’ art is more realistic. He tries to capture the subjects’ essence quickly and minimally, so colours are an afterthought.

Accuracy was his pride in art until it came to you. He’d be so nervous in getting your smile right, scribbling failed attempts over and over again. Wiles even resorted to a pencil sketch.

Following the passing of Jefferson, Wiles has gotten much closer to Rio. That’s a no brainer; he was fourteen— a kid. And Jefferson never got to see his son in that overpriced Visions uniform.

Wiles makes an effort to speak more Spanish. He lets his mamí braid his hair even if it hurts like hell. Those stupid telenovelas aren’t that bad on the second watch.

Once upon a time, Wiles used to be a choir boy (keyword: used). He’d love singing hymns and doing nativities before he could read; all for his mamí and dad to see.

However, the christmas after Jefferson’s passing felt… empty. Wiles quickly lost his passion for choir and now just attends mass with Rio at most.

After years of experience being a choir boy, Wiles has the voice of an angel. Not that you’d know, of course— he intends to take that to the grave. But there’s also a deeper, darker secret… he can’t rap to save his life.

An extremely personal and harrowing Musically comment told him so. Following that attack, twelve year old Wiles abandoned his account with only a black profile picture left behind.

Like any other middle schooler, Wiles had a hype beast phase (he denies it). When Aaron got a Hype shirt for Wiles’ 12th birthday, words couldn’t describe how he almost knocked Aaron down with a hug.

The shirt’s first stain had Wiles distraught and furiously searching ‘remove paint on shirt hacks’ on Youtube. His heart would probably stop if he misplaced a gift from you.

Wiles isn’t the best cook, but he can definitely make himself a good meal. With Rio working night shifts and Uncle Aaron doing… jobs, he has to be self-sufficient.

A secret lil’ side project: he’s trying and failing to replicate Jefferson’s mac ‘n cheese. It wasn’t the best, but it was his. Something’s always off when Wiles makes it and he’s not quite sure what.

Sure, cooking isn’t that hard, but baking is like wizardry to Wiles. AP Chemistry and it’s endless calculations felt way easier than making pan de agua with his mamí.

But, mamí didn’t raise no quitter! On a particularly busy birthday, Wiles pulled together a modest little cake for Rio. She burst into tears seeing the shaky ‘!Feliz Cumple!’ written in too-sweet icing.

Calling Earth-42 a wreck is a massive understatement. Shit’s like Gotham, only very real and very deadly. Just breathing in that damn city air makes Wiles’ skin crawl.

Luckily, he’s got an outlet: boxing. A fun hobby he picked up from Uncle Aaron became his release. Wiles might never be in the ring, but Brooklyn’s more than enough.

a/n #2: what the fuck. this was supposed to be short and silly and fun. exsqueeze me how did this… erm. disjointed mess.

[is-this-even-relatable]

A Rising Phantom

———

Summary: danny died, and no one knows. He is a full ghost, and only thanks to his dual obsessions can he “live” a normal life and pretend that nothing happened.

I aim to make this a multichaptered fic! Hopefully, the first fic I post on AO3!

HEADCANONS/TROPES/TAGS:

no one knows! AU

full ghost! danny

eventual everlasting trio

dual obsessions inspired by this post, which are protection (Phantom) and space (Fenton)

my own headcanon: danny's death is inevitable, a single point in time that cannot be avoided or changed.

———

Danny died on a Saturday.

He was too young to have been left alone; any other house would’ve be fine, but everyone in that town knew, even then, that the Fentons' house was to be avoided by a wide berth.

His parents had rushed out in a frustrated fit, leaving him and Jazz by themselves for the weekend, just like so many before. They were always an afterthought to their parents, long before he was 14.

Danny didn’t intend to go down to the lab that night. But Jazz was out with her friend Kyle, and he was bored. And something down there called to him, though he didn’t know it.

He didn’t know that forces beyond his comprehension were leading to this point, this singularity.

If Danny had known the fate in store for him, he would have begged his parents for them to stay that night, or take him with them. But he didn't know, he couldn't have known... because that's how it was always going to be.

He didn’t know that a man with a clock in his chest, who changed between ages in the blink of an eye, was watching as he walked down those lonely steps.

He didn’t know, as he pulled on a white hazmat suit hand-sewn just for him, far too flimsy for what it was meant to protect him against, that a sentient dimension was pushing against the veil, straining for him.

He didn’t know, as he stepped through the gaping metal maw, that it had already called his name, and death had claimed it.

And afterwards, while he curled up on the cold basement floor, clutching his chest for a pulse, he still did not know that even if he had known... he would have had no choice but to do the same.

Danny died when he turned the portal on, alone in his parents’ lab.

Standing inside, fifty million Watts of electricity coursed from his palm to his heart, searing its path into his skin. It had no exit route. It cooked him from the inside, lighting all of his nerves on fire, and doused him in an infinite realm’s worth of dimensional energy. After what seemed like hours of screaming, panicking, burning- he somehow managed to crawl out of the portal.

He died then, lying flat in front of the machine that ended him, as the intense pain faded into a dull throb that replaced the beating that used to be in his chest.

And as he sat up, feeling both sore and feather-light, he looked down upon his body, and realized that he had died that day, and he was not coming back.

Danny panicked. And he did the only thing he could do. He decided to run away, afraid of what he was, confused and scared and feeling very not himself.

But the main anxiety that drove him to hide his accident was a rather juvenile one.

��He was afraid that his parents would be upset that he had gone into the lab without their permission.

He had messed with their stuff, and turned something on… something he definitely shouldn’t have.

He had just opened a portal to a realm full of the very things that kept him from sleeping at night, of “unfeeling monsters” that his parents had drilled into him about for years.

A portal to ghosts… that were now free to come through.

That thought made something inside him solidify, and a low hum began to emanate from him as he worried about his family. About the ghosts and the portal and how they were going to manage without him…

He couldn’t just leave like this. Not when he was responsible. He couldn’t let a whole realm of monsters hurt his family. At that thought, dread filled him, and that same something inside his chest ached.

But it occurred to him that he still had to leave. Not just at the thought of his parents stumbling in on his body.

No, it was about him. For he was one of them now, wasn’t he? A ghost. And he was a monster now, too. Despite not feeling like one. Despite knowing that there was clearly something wrong with what he had been told and what he knew was intimately true of himself in this new form.

But something inside him whispered at him that he couldn’t take the chance, if he did turn into a monster. He couldn’t let himself hurt his family.

So with fears on his back and a tingle fading from his fingertips, Danny pulled himself up onto unsteady feet. He took his body outside, to the woods where no one would know. And he buried it, alone, surrounded by trees and the sky.

He sat there, at his fresh grave, and cried.

Holding his arms around himself tight, he mourned the loss of warmth, of blood pumping and his heartbeat, so loud in its absence.

Surrounded by nothing but silence, he mourned that he’d never made close friends, nor really had the chance.

Looking up at the stars, he mourned that he could never fulfill his dream of being an astronaut.

He mourned for himself because no one else could.

And as his last cry petered off into the night, the sun broke the horizon.

A different something tugged at his chest, and he let it pull without resistance, worn ragged as he was.

And he was grateful he did. For a soothing light washed over him and transformed him into something similar, but not quite as he was Before.

But he felt warmth, and he felt a pseudo-beat in his chest, sluggish as it was. And suddenly he realized that although he was dead, he was alive in a different way.

He was still there.

He didn’t have to give up on life.

He was not going to be a monster.

Danny walked back home. He washed the dirt away from under his fingernails. He swept the lab until it looked like no one had been there. Minus the massive swirling vortex.

And when Jazz got home from her sleepover, Danny hugged her with a smile.

He was going to be fine.

They would all be fine, he would make sure of it.

[xxcherrydevilxx]

Fuck Away the Pain

— Dazai x femreader x Chuuya

— Warnings: NSFW (obvi) angsty smut, rough sex, minors dni

— Summary/Author Notes: never wrote actual fanfiction and posted it on Tumblr before, listened to “fuck away the Pain” by Divide the Day and wanted to write about a playboy Dazai hurting the reader and making them go to Chuuya in desperation. I am a woman with simple wants. Sloppy writing and even sloppier editing due to never posting fanfic before. might write more if I get notes who knows 

— Word Count: 4615

— Afterthoughts: Truly wanted to make this porn with no plot to keep it short, ended up doing the exact fucking opposite. Am not reading this entire thing for the 7th time to check for spelling and grammar errors, please just feast. 

You were so fucking stupid. So, so, so fucking stupid.

Had you really thought Osamu Dazai would truly be yours? How fucking stupid could you even be? The pet names, the way he touched you, the gifts, sure they were nice but did you ever hear him really call you anything other than the usual “Belladonna”?

God what a fool you were, a stupid fool who fell in love with a man who knew he could wrap any man or woman around his finger. Laughable truly, that you thought you were the only one to ever know the embrace of Dazai, the only one to feel his tongue slip inside your mouth.

SO fucking stupid you were.

And that's how you found yourself, stumbling in your nice dress and even nicer heels down a dirty no-name road while the rain poured down on your sorry state. You had caught him, practically fucking another woman against the wall of the place he had asked you to meet up at weeks prior. You were too stunned to speak when you heard the soft moans and rough growls from a dimly lit alleyway, causing you to investigate out of stupid curiosity. 

When Dazai caught you out of the corner of his eyes he didn’t even drop the woman he was holding roughly against the brick wall, he just unlatched his lips from her bruised and marked neck to say he was busy and they'd “meet another time,” yeah, sure! you'd get right on that next meet-up after blocking his number and changing your locks.

Such a fucking idiot you were, why did you even get him a copy of your apartment key? What? You thought he would come and cozy up next to you, build a life with you? Ha, how rich of a thought.

Through your blurry vision, obscured by both your tears and the rain from the sky that seemed to mourn with you, a neon bar sign shone like a haven, a safe place to regain your composure somewhere warm and dry… And get fucking wasted so you couldn’t remember the look of the woman twitching and whining against Dazai once he had stopped biting her to give you a quick comment.

So, that's how you found your drenched self on a bar stool, knocking back shots of a burning whiskey and chasing it with another shot of sake to get you as drunk as possible. You were surprised the bartender had kept serving you after your fifth ask of liquor, you half thought they might have begun watering down the drinks to slow your intoxication. You didn’t mind, you kept drinking and kept thinking of your idiocy. 

He had played you so well, or maybe he knew you were so stupid that you wouldn’t ask questions about where he would run off to, or why you only saw him sparingly at times. At first, you just thought it was his work, he never outright said that but you had assumed it to be the truth because… because you were an idiot. 

Another shot, another whiskey, another sake, another whatever the hell was behind that bar.

“You’ll drink ‘im dry you know,” a voice had teased behind you. Making you snarl and whip your head around, your wet hair catching on your cheek and getting stuck against the still-cold skin. What a sordid state you must look like to the other patrons, but there were practically zero other clients except you and a few men out after dark. Couldn’t they tell you wanted to be left alone? That something was wrong for you to be drinking this much and that you just wanted to enjoy your liquor and get the hell out once you felt inebriated enough.

“I didn’t ask for commentary,” you fired back, your eyes catching on the figure that had spoken to you. What caught you by surprise was the man’s attire, and then after that the striking orange hair that framed his face. But what irritated you the most after you took in the arrogant man who wore such gaudy attire to match his personality was the smirk that played on his lips as he looked down upon you. 

“Well, then maybe don't get obscenely drunk in a public bar.” he had shot back with ease. Jesus fucking Christ couldn’t you drown your sorrows in peace? Why did every annoying man have to seek you out? 

“If you really think Mr. Bartender there is still serving me anything other than watered-down shots I’d have to say you are almost as dumb as me.” you hissed out at the man, giving him your meanest glare before turning back to your drinks. You had to admit, the buzz you were nursing didn’t seem to be growing any worse despite your best efforts. You could still see with perfect memory the image of your assumed-to-lover with another woman every time you closed your eyes. 

“Oh, good, at least you know you're stupid” -the man muttered under his breath as he took the empty seat next to you. Waving a hand to get the attention of the bartender- “I thought I would have to tell you that, then also tell you that dress of yours is really easy to see through after getting it wet.”

You wanted to strangle him. By god, you wanted to kill him with your own hands.

The best you could do though was throw your drink at him, soaking his expensive red vest that covered the white shirt underneath it. Now that seemed to get him pissed, and you relished in it. 

“Nobody ever teach you to leave drunkards alone?” you sneered, giving him a devilish smile as you watched him practically shortcircuit at your actions.

“And did nobody ever teach you not to mess with the Port Mafia, doll?” He snarled back. Quickly grabbing an excess amount of napkins to dab onto his vest to try and soak up any of the liquid so it wouldn’t stain his clothes any further. 

It took you more than a few seconds to register his words, and you hated to admit you only took in the pet name first before realizing the more dangerous term he spoke. 

The Port Mafia? That Port Mafia? The one Dazai always complained about and whined excessively regarding one of their executives. You didn’t even really care about it, sure you knew of them but in what world would you ever meet them? You strictly told Dazai you would never get in between his work life and personal life, somewhat for him but mostly for you. Because you saw how dangerous it could be, and you wanted to live relatively peacefully without worry of getting shot by some person with an axe to grind. And now you went and dumped your shot on one of their members? After trying so hard to remain surrounded in obscurity to never catch such a prolific gang's attention? 

God how fucking stupid could you be in one night.

He must have seen your face change to an ashen white after realizing what he had just uttered, and he let out a snort of amusement at it, which only furthered made you think you were going to get fucking killed, or at least go home missing a few teeth.

“Listen I- I didn’t know how could I- I mean-” you started to ramble before being caught off by a cock of his head and the furrow of his eyebrows.

“Because you're practically in our territory?” he replied, his voice oozing with annoyance after realizing how dumb you truly were. 

“I- listen dude I had a hell of a rough night please I'm sorry I’ll- I’ll get your dry cleaning or whatever the hell you want just let me pay my bill and leave.” you began to plead. Groveling was all you knew in an instance such as this, and you hoped he would show kindness... Who are you kidding when had the Port Mafia been known for Kindness? 

He scoffed at you, “Dry cleaning? A rough night? Does it look like I give a shit, doll?” you practically flinched at his words. Of course, this wouldn’t work, his clothes probably cost a fortune anyhow. You could never afford the bill, or even afford to pay him back for the ruined clothes. You were going to die, he would pull a gun on you and shoot you in the head, painting the walls a sickeningly red color. 

“Chuuya… give her a rest, you knew better.” the bartender’s gruff voice murmured as he sat a glass down in front of him. Wait- Chuuya? Chuuya? Like the executive, Dazai always groaned about? 

“Chuuya?” you oppugned, somehow finding your voice to ask the pissed-off man a question. He scowled at you once he heard you speak.

“Chuuya as in like- one of the executives from the Port Mafia?” you asked dumbly. Your heart skipping a beat as the man’s eyes seemed to light ever so slightly at the recognition.

“Well how ‘bout that, at least you seem to know something doll,” he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. His eyes held on you for a heartbeat, before he shrugged off his long black coat to hang over your shoulders. You startled at the action, instinctively leaning backward once his hands reached out towards you.

“I really did mean what I said,” he muttered. Taking a swig of his drink as his cheeks flushed slightly and he averted his gaze from you. 

You cocked your head in confusion; what did he say again? That he was in the Port Mafia, that you were stupid, that your dress-

You pulled the coat tightly around yourself, acutely aware of how the soaked fabric clung tightly to your skin. How long had you sat there while your dress only further soaked your skin to ice? How long could people see what was hidden under the cloth? Why did you only realize now?

“Thanks.” you begrudgingly muttered to the cocky ginger. Your hand snaking out of the oddly comforting warm coat to grab the abandoned glass in front of you to drag to your lips. He dipped his head as if to let you know he heard you and continued to drink.

Both of you stayed like that for a while. Nursing your own drinks side by side as the rain continued to come down loudly outside. The space between you both on the barstools was as tense as you were being in his coat. You absently thought “What would Dazai think?” if he knew you were here, drinking in the dead of night with a man he would spit obscenities about when he talked of work. What would he think if he knew you were draped in his coat, that you were trying to discretely peek over at him? Taking in his figure and his face... Which now that the smug smirk was wiped off it seemed strikingly handsome under the bar lights. 

“Why the rough night.” he had asked. His voice broke the silence as if it were a crack of lightning coming down right where he sat. You jumped slightly at it, turning your head fully this time to look at him. You could tell he was looking at you from the corner of his grey eyes, and you swallowed hard as you willed your voice to work. 

“This… guy I was seeing,” you made sure to leave Dazai’s name out, not wanting to put a warrant on your head if Chuuya disliked him as much as Dazai did. “I caught him with another girl. It’s not like we were official or anything it just- stung.. Made me feel like a fool” you mumbled into your drink, your lips playing on the rim of the crystal glass as you waited for Chuuya to also call you a fool, or to laugh at your sad love story. But he remained quiet, only turning to give you his full attention-

God, either you were more drunk than you were aware or the man you dumped a drink on was shockingly attractive. 

You wished you could go back and make a better impression, wondering if instead of falling for Dazai you could have fallen for him. Would he have treated you better? Or were he and Dazai the sides of the same coin? Knowing your abysmal luck it was probably the latter.

“That's rough.” was all he responded. His eyes were still on you as you stared down into your half-empty glass. 

“Ha, no... I should have expected as much,” you laughed. Your voice took on a tinge of sadness as you recounted again, for the millionth time, the sight of the man you once loved having another girl pushed up against a wall. 

And what was even worse than that memory was all the other ones. The good memories, laying with Dazai tangled in your sheets as he rubbed circles in your back. The smell of morning coffee that he would bring to you as you lay in bed. The soft kisses he would plant on your face when he had to leave.

Your eyes were getting misty and you rubbed harshly at them, hating the fact you were beginning to tear up again. You didn’t want to cry- wouldn’t- over a man like him. You wouldn’t give him another thought, you would wash him from your brain and never think of how his brunette hair fell lazily over his eyes, how he smiled at you when he saw you waiting for him-

Who were you kidding? You couldn’t stop thinking of him. He plagued your mind this entire time as you had sat next to Chuuya. The only time your brain paused its replays of Dazai was when you had gotten into a petty argument before knowing who the man next to you was. 

“I can take your mind off it.” his words hung in the space between you both. as his eyes continued to drink you in, their half-lidded look making you want to sink into his arms. You were already getting too wound up, he probably didn't mean that sexually… of course not, you were crazy. You had thrown a drink on him and called him stupid and you didn’t even know who he was before the bartender said his name. How could he possibly want you?

He wanted you. You found that after taking up on his offer and following him out into the rain. His coat still snugly wrapped around your form. You half expected to go back to his place to drink more, this time without the annoyance of a bartender keeping you from getting fully drunk. You were surprised when he gently pushed you against the wall of the bar outside, his lips finding yours and softly kissing them. Your breath hitched and you looked up into his silver eyes as the rain poured down on the both of you, wetting your lips with your tongue you willed him to kiss you again. Your mind frayed and the buzz you had, added on with the kiss from the handsome Chuuya had made you forget almost everything from the morning prior with Dazai. 

He seemed to read your expression with ease, this time hungrily taking your lips for himself. his tongue slipping inside your mouth to explore. You pressed your body flush against him, the rain making both of you practically stick together. You focused entirely on this kiss, this moment, the rain, and the feeling of his hands on your hips. The way his tongue slid over yours, the way he kissed so much differently in comparison to Dazai. 

He bit your bottom lip gently before pulling away to look at you with eyes filled with desire and lust, it made you weak to your core and your knees practically jelly.

He had taken you back to his place, where? You didn’t really care to know. All you cared about was the way his hands explored your icy skin with slow purpose as you stumbled beside him. You itched to get to a bed, to peel off your wet clothes and for him to be atop you, his hands taking you roughly instead of the unhurried pace he took as he led you to his home.

Once you had made it to his bed, the covers velvety red and unmade you practically felt yourself give out. This is what you needed, this is so desperately what you needed after such a shitty night. A handsome man, a soft bed, and your mind to be overtaken by the thought of pleasure.

Now that you were splayed across the sheets, your wet clothes discarded in a heap by the bedroom door, and with Chuuya kissing his way down your body as if to warm you up from the cold, all you wished for was for him to hurry it up. The teasing was torturous, his tongue and lips taking such a languid approach to the way your body responded to his touch. He wanted to test out seemingly every way he could give you pleasure without actually letting you ride that high. Massaging your thighs that rubbed together to gain some type of relief. The way you yelped when his teeth bit into your breast. The way he watched your face like a hawk as he maneuvered himself to be between your wet and hot thighs. The way his stare bore into you made you flush even more and your core tighten, trying to hide your face in the sheets. His hand quickly snaked up your body to grab you by the chin and turn your face back to him. 

“Watch me, doll.” his voice was thick with want. You could feel the heat rolling off him against your sex as his eyes flickered down to the slick heat between your legs. Just like before his tongue was painstakingly slow as he licked his way up to your sensitive clit, before he pulled away to watch how such a small amount of stimulation made you shake and your breath come out fast and ragged. You whined insistently as you moved your hips as if asking him to go back between them. Chuuya chuckled at your antics, placing one hand on your hip to still your movement. 

“You’re quite needy, yknow?” he teased. His hand rubbed soft circles into your hip, which made you instinctively think of Dazai and his rough hands being so gentle on your skin. You blinked back fresh hot tears as the unwanted memory surfaced and you heaved out a shuddering breath. Raising your upper half to look at Chuuya with serious determination, you could tell it caught him off guard as he stilled his petting on your hips and waist. 

“Not that. None of that. Make me” -you licked your lips as your breath caught in your throat- “Make me forget, Chuuya.” you pleaded, and you could see something snap in the ginger as his name left your lips with passion.

He got to quick work of making sure you forgot anything and everything to do with your past lover. His tongue and lips worked wonders on you as you moaned his name and rolled your hips against his face. His breath was hot against your skin as he took your sensitive clit into his lips and gently bit down on the bundle of nerves, making you see stars and your voice choke out a strangled moan as you came on his face. Your chest heaved quick and fast, trying to find a moment of reprieve from your intense climax from all the edging Chuuya had given to you before your hasty request.

The rest was short-lived as his body hovered above yours, his hands digging into your skin as he let out a ragged breath. His hair was a mess, his lips covered in you and his chest heaving in tandem with yours. His hands, which had surely given your waist bruises from the force he held you down into the mattress, moved to take out his thick cock that was slick with his precum. Your breath hitched at the sight, your eyelashes fluttering as you took in the sight. Chuuya could tell the sight of him turned you on more than before, and it made him let out a shuddering groan as he moved his hand lazily up and down the shaft, trying to quell his own needs. 

“Now- ha- doll,” his breath came out fast as he pumped himself slowly as he took in your shaking form underneath him. 

“How much do you wish to forget?” he asked. His voice was gruff and shallow with want as he watched your face for a look of understanding. Your eyes were still on the twitching member in his hand, you wanted to touch it, to taste it, to see Chuuya come undone because of you and you alone. It took you a few minutes to register his words, and you only came back when he took his free hand to your throat and lightly pressed down as if trying to gain your attention back to him and his words. 

“Ah- uhm-” you shook your head slightly. You hadn’t heard him, you barely heard his ragged breath because your gaze was fixed on his cock.

“Repeat yourself against, Chuuya,” you asked. Which made the hand that was still gently wrapped around your throat squeeze it ever so tightly, eliciting a gasp from you before making your stomach tighten and your sex get even wetter at the feeling.

“I know you’re” -he gritted his teeth to stop himself from moaning at the way you're shyly let out a moan as his hand gripped your throat- ”I know you’re fucking dumb, but when I speak I expect to be listened to.” You loved the way he spoke to you, the way his grip was getting ever so tighter around your throat. The way his eyes drilled into you.

“Yes- sorry- I just-” You let out a hiss of pain as his hand tightened even more, stopping you from finishing your sentence. 

“I don't want an apology,” he growled as he positioned himself at your entrance, his hand around your throat loosening ever so slightly as he took you in, the way he could feel your breath still in your throat because of how much you wanted him made him come undone. 

“I just want you to remember for next time,” he said roughly, before slamming his hips into yours with such ferocity it made your head snap back and your toes dig into the sheets to steady yourself. 

His pace was even more brutal, and his hand never left your throat. The free one found its way underneath your back to pull you closer to him as he thrusted into you with the speed of an animal. Your moans were fast and high pitched, the sweet feeling of pain and pleasure mixing together into one made tears prick the corner of your eyes. You felt him shift his weight and dip his head towards you, his hair tickling the side of your face as his tongue darted out to lap up your salty tears, making you moan out his name as you watched his eyes snap to your lips before devouring them. His pace never slowed, and the pressure on your neck never slackened. He was driving you mad, the lack of oxygen, the taste of his lips and the sound of his hips slamming against yours only made you chase your high. He muffled your high-pitched moans and cries, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he continued to deprive you of air. You could feel the coil at the pit of your stomach tighten more and more with every different stimulation from the man on top of you. You felt yourself on the verge of snapping, tears pooling in your eyes before slipping down your hot face. Chuuya pulled away once again to lick up the tears that trickled down your face, his tongue sending chills down your spine as you finally gulped in air for your lungs.

“Atta girl,” he growled into your ear, and you felt that coil snap. 

You spasmed in his hold, and his mouth moved from your ear to your neck as he bit down harshly and somehow, god how you wished you knew, picked up an even faster pace as he helped your climax meet its fullest and deepest desires. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands hastily came up to wrap around his back and dig your nails into his skin as you screamed until your voice was hoarse. 

Chuuya relished the sound, the way your entire body tensed and clung to him as if he was the only thing that could remedy the wild pleasure that shot through your body and filled your mind with delirious desires. He could feel his own climax approaching and he bit harder into your neck, tasting your blood as his ears were trained to the sounds you made. When you began to chant his name under your breath, was when his hips stuttered and he came inside of you. He fell on top of you, his hand slipping away from your throat to allow you to fully breathe in sweet oxygen after the torture you must have endured at your climax. He hazily looked at the mark he made on your skin, the small droplets of blood slipping down your skin as you gasped for air. He lazily licked around the wound and sucked the blood, waiting for you to come back to him and for you to say his name again.

He wanted to ask you to stay the night, he was sure you wouldn't be able to walk home anyway, and he was vaguely aware of the sound of rain still coming down outside. 

“Doll..” he cooed, rolling off you and onto his back. You moved your eyes to take him in, the way his eyes were hazy and unfocused, his hair even more wild than before, and the cocky smile he had on his lips at the sight of you… what you must look like to him.

“Hm?” was all you could muster out as a reply, still trying to regain your breath as your body still sporadically twitched from the aftershock of such an intense climax. 

“Stay the night… I can’t have you go back out in that rain,” he mumbled, his hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face. You leaned into his touch, you knew you told him at the start no softness... But now, you could hardly remember why you asked that in the first place.

“Mhm, sure, Chuuya,” you breathed, rolling closer into his embrace. He held you tight to his chest, which was slick with sweat. You could feel him fiddle with your hair absentmindedly. As you slowly closed your eyes, comforted by the feeling of his heartbeat and the soothing feeling of his hand in your hair, you suddenly remembered something he said. Your eyes popped open, and you pushed your hands onto his chest to hover your face above his. “Wait- Chuuya- did you say there would be a next time?” you asked, bewildered. His loud and sharp laugh echoed through the room and you blushed furiously at the idea of doing this again. But despite the embarrassment, you felt oddly happy that Chuuya wanted you again, and you were excited to take him up on the offer.

[reminiscingtonight]

Starring-fruit-goal (Jana Fernandez)

Camera Shy (Jana Fernández x Reader)

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s Lucy’s fault.

The idea of “First Touch” with random objects which eventually devolved into a game of keepy uppies with some lettuce all came from the English big brain, pitched minutes before the camera crew arrived to film a segment for the champions league. Claudia and Patri were instantly sold, the first two to jump into the locker room at the word “challenge.”

There was one person who was less than excited about it though. 

Jana.

“Justice for the goal keepers!” your girlfriend huffed, ignoring your whispered pleas to let it go. “When do the goal-savers get to do anything fun?”

Really, it was more of a misplaced subject to defend than anything. Unlike your girlfriend, you were more than happy to sit quietly out of the spotlight. As the second goalkeeper, you’ve learned a lot from just observing. Your introverted self enjoyed coming to practice, doing your job, and leaving it at that. There was no reason to film silly videos, no reason to risk embarrassing yourself on the world web.

But it didn’t matter. 

Because it all leads to now. 

There’s an assortment of friends standing opposite you, your feet placed firmly in front of goal.

Claudia’s at the front of the line, a fruit bowl in hand as she grins mischievously your way.

“And you tested it out? This is safe?”

Jana shoots you two thumbs up, though you’re not wholly convinced. 

You nervously rub your gloved hands together. “Are you sure I have to do this? Sandra really couldn’t make it to filming?”

“Enough talking chicas. Time to save some goals!” Patri hollers, scooping up a banana and a peach into each hand before nudging Claudia to the side. 

You gulp.

The first few go fine. 

It’s a bit daunting, seeing your teammates cock their arms back to throw literal fruits at you, but you stop them with ease. Your gloves are padded enough that you can swat them away without too many problems. 

You even get into a rhythm, catch a pear here, knock away an entire cluster of grapes there. Your nose scrunches up in disgust when a bundle of strawberries explode the second they touch your gloves, splattering all over your shirt.

With each save your confidence grows. Jana never participates in chucking fruit at you, but you can see her cheering every time you manage to stop one. Between your successful stops and your girlfriend’s excitement, you feel like you’re at the top of the world.

It isn’t until Mapi steps up to the line that it all comes crashing down.

It begins just like everyone else. Back turned to you, Mapi selects her fruit, only turning around when she’s content with the one she’s chosen.

The only difference?

Mapi’s apple zips through the air with startling speed and accuracy, smacking you right in the nose before you can even blink. 

Yelping, you stumble onto your ass in shock. Your hands come up more as an afterthought, a useless attempt to stave the warm liquid you can feel dripping down your face.

The chattering and laughter instantly ceases as everyone looks on in shock. 

From across the field there’s a loud shout. 

“What are you idiots doing?” 

Alexia. 

Jana’s kneeling by your side, rubbing a soothing hand against your back when your captain makes it to you. 

Everyone else has scattered at this point, desperately trying to evade Alexia’s anger. Anger that instantly dissipates the second the Spaniard catches sight of the tears in your eyes. 

The older girl sighs, crouching down in front of you. “What did Jana and the others rope you into?”

Your girlfriend lets out a squawk of indignation. “Why do you think I did anything?”

Alexia gives her a look. “Did you do something?”

Jana doesn’t dignify her a response. 

The video never ends up getting posted.

Not that that stops Mapi from posting her own picture of you, broken nose and all, onto her instagram story the next day. 

In it you’re frowning, Jana halfheartedly trying to block you from the camera. Mapi’s toothily grinning as she shoots a thumbs up through the lens.

[In another life I would have made a good pitcher]

Alexia makes her run extra laps.

Send me a 3 word prompt

[popponn]

a duck, a prince, and the snow.

note: was gonna make it hcs but uh. ehe. here, smth similar for chigiri haha. this is two iq shower thought situation. warning: none, fluff, post canon/pro au, reader’s gender unspecified, undertone of morons friends to lovers, prince & duckling (affectionately).

reo loves you enough to marry you the moment you demand it. with rings, grand ceremonies, and an even grander honeymoon. but the thing is, you are way too oblivious.

reo tries everything already—praises, flirting, dressing in the way you like the most, asking you to go to your favorite places together, buy you everything, special treatment, and many more. at this point, it’s probably easier to mention what he hasn’t tried yet—with “straight up confessing” sitting at the top of the “no way not yet no chigiri no nagi no way” chart. some people actually think this is some new brand of masochism—trapping oneself in a friendzone, but most of them stop thinking about this after seeing your dynamic with him once. as in it really is that painful to watch.

in your defense, this guy is indeed generous when he wants to be. so he could give you a diamond ring and you could read it either as a bribe for something or a random gift for that tuesday. the worst thing is probably how you are so genuinely unable to think of the more romantic possibility whilst the giving party is more than okay with it. really, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart.

because you could go “oh reo you are such a good friend! let’s be friends forever!” and this guy would probably look extremely constipated for 0.1 sec then before you could see it, all you got is a doting exasperation expressed through a charming prince smile on his face. in the way that is not even “ah well too bad, but we can do it next time” smile, but an “oh, how adorable. i truly am in love with them” smile. rinse and repeat for three years and more, that’s basically how this hellish adorable loop goes. talk about a guy who is in love with every part of you—even when the part is denser than a black hole.

but, like every fairytale, this prince too deserves a proper happy ending, doesn’t he?

Under the illuminations and falling snow, you wonder why Reo chooses to be here with you, walking through the cold December night with groceries in his hands. You feel bad for telling him that you are out shopping alone now, or at the very least you should have accepted his offer to bring his limousine. It feels wrong getting him carrying your things considering everything.

“Reo,” you begin sheepishly, reaching out to tug his jacket sleeve lightly with your empty hand. "You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

Reo, somehow, looks like he takes offense to that. “Huh? Why not? I want to. Plus, just imagining you waddling like a duck with two heavy grocery bags…” Dramatically, Reo trails off with a heavy sigh. A cloud of cold breath fogs his lips for a moment, but not enough to cover up the teasing smirk that follows, “…yeah, at least I want to watch that.”

You immediately nudge his side with an angry huff, all while fruitlessly trying to step on his feet. Whilst Reo laughs with too much mirth on his face, he avoids your vengeful foot with a grace that truly belongs to a professional soccer player. Some bystanders who walk past the two of you spares some glances, but as long as they do not recognize Reo who hides his face and hair under a miraculous yet simple black cap, you feel like you couldn’t care about them.

“I shouldn’t have felt bad for you! I’m trying to be considerate to your hands getting cramps and cold, you jerk!” you hissed finally, jutting out your tongue just as an extra gesture, before adding another protest as an afterthought, “And you called me a duck for that!?”

“You are worried about me? That’s sweet!” Reo smiles in a way that is positively shit eating. Then, he nudges back to your side, an act that is pretty much imitating your previous action, yet clearly, much gentler as he lets his shoulder stay pressed to yours as the two of you continue to walk. “Come on, don’t be mad. That means I will still take care of you even when you are a duck.”

You glare half-heartedly at that. Even if this sort of conversation—idle, with worth only the two of you could understand—is not rare, you really wonder why he seems so bubbly today. With your steps and his once again falling into a synchronous rhythm, you curiously ponder out loud, “So, what happened?”

Reo tilts his head, in a manner that is subjectively cute to you. “Hm?”

“Today, what happened? You seem happy. Did something good happen in your meeting? Or your training?”

“Uh… eh? Not really, honestly. Nagi was feeling kind of down, and Isagi also seemed to be in a bad mood, Rin—the younger Itoshi, you remembered?” he pauses, looking at your reaction before continuing after your nod. “Yeah, so that guy also got really angry today. Overall, it was a mess, but nothing new. The board meeting, uh, yeah—the greedy old guys somehow get greedier today.”

“Seriously?” You wince hearing all of those. “That… sounds like a really terrible day… are you okay?”

Reo’s face shifts once again into a very smug look, which you shoot down immediately with a glare straight to his handsome face. Seeing your unamused look, the half-lidded brattish look he wears immediately crinkles to a very bright happy look, with a smile that is wide enough to turn his eyes into a pair of crescent moons. It is beautiful—you think to yourself, silently, softly.

“Nah, as I said, nothing new about that too. Plus—” Reo suddenly leans his head against yours, letting his cold cheek glue itself against your equally cold one. Nonetheless, you still squawk ungracefully. “—I got a really cute duckling worrying about me and walking with me romantically like this. I will call that it’s a winning day!”

“Really now?” you ask again, exasperated and not really understanding the meaning behind his words. It feels like you are missing something—but you can’t really put a finger on it. Paying no more mind to that thought, you continue, “So, paying for me, coming running to me, and then getting me to walk with a prince who also carries my groceries is a payback for being the cute ducking?”

“Clearly,” Reo says, familiar pride and softness lacing his tone. It makes you laugh. It’s odd, but as how being in his presence really makes you feel at ease, it does feel pleasant to hear him feeling so with just a walk with you. But, before you can let that feeling settle quietly, Reo goes on, resting his gaze on you in a manner that feels too fond and affectionate, “But, even if without all those, I will still come running to you.”

Yet again, you feel like you are missing something. There is a heat that crawls up from the inner chamber of your chest, thrumming and warm and wonderful. Dizzying and confusing, but often presents itself for Reo and Mikage Reo only.

“I… I see,” you stammer out, your voice unconsciously turning into one that is just a few notes away from a whisper.

You don’t know what Reo sees in your expression, but with it, his eyes gleam in a very tender manner. “Well, but you see,” he begins, his voice mimicking a mocking tone, “while this prince’s hand is one warmed with groceries, the other one is still very empty and cold.”

“Oh?” you muse, seeing where this is going.

Boyish and as charming as always, Reo reaches his idle hand to yours, intertwining his finger with yours. One could say it feels like a scene from a drama, one could say it feels like something written by hopeless romantics, but ultimately, to you the fact that it is Reo that makes your breath hitches. Suddenly, it is very worrying if your hands are sweaty.

Wait, are they—

“Now, the prince feels very warm,” Reo, oblivious to your predicament, states cheekily with boldness veiling his eyes.

“…the prince is a prick,” you reply, knowing your defeat. It is unusual of him to do something like this, yet there is not even an ounce of desire in you to protest.

“As long as the duckling is okay with it, is it really a problem though?” he says, leaning even closer to your face.

At some point, you know you stop breathing. And Reo realizes it.

It is probably then that the tension between the two of you suddenly closes down its curtain. Something flashes through Reo’s eyes. And before you know it, the hold he has on your hand loosened, as if giving you permission to pull away.

Then, a part of your mind says, “Who cares about the duckling and prince anymore—”

And to that sentiment, you raise an enthusiastic agree.

Because it is Reo, probably, you tightened your hold around his hand. Your hand might be sweaty, and you might not get everything that is happening—but you know enough that this feels like the right choice.

“I am,” you answer resolutely, looking away from him and facing your front instead. “I am very okay with it.”

You have no courage to peek at your friend’s—your companion’s expression. And so, you miss the way his eyes light up, realizing and catching something that you haven’t realized yet. Thus, you too don’t expect the way he tugs you into a halt, stopping your steps just a few centimeters away from his.

When you turn to him, you find Mikage Reo. His eyebrows are furrowed under his cap, his lips bitten and pouting at the some time. With redness on his cheeks, as good-looking and as princely as he has always been to you, staring at you with a seriousness that spells out determination and more.

“Can I—”

On the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by crowds who don’t recognize Mikage Reo and you, the two of you stand still. The snow continues to fall and none of you bring your gloves. In such a scene, Reo’s eyes never once left you.

“Can I tell you something?”

add. note: was it cheesy? unnecessarily so. did i lost the prompt somewhere? kinda. is it xmas? uh. what is this? uh. could it be better?...yeah i think i had fun tho <3 hope u too <3 blame jinshi and how this part came out the smoothest. also if this is in reo's pov lmao it's a mess there.

[linoalwaysknows]

Shattered Promises

Pair: Reader x chan

Tw: break up, getting stood up lmw if I missed any!!

(This is my first post, so please excuse any mistakes, and if you have any advice, I would be happy to take it!! Also, i didnt do a word count so apologies for that!! Enjoy <33)

:You and Bang Chan have a loving relationship marked by his thoughtful gestures, like flowers and special dates. However, Chan’s demanding work schedule increasingly sidelines your time together. Despite his frequent apologies, he repeatedly stands you up, leaving you feeling neglected and unimportant. After another missed date, you confront Chan about the emotional distance and broken promises. Chan suggests taking a break, and you decide to end the relationship. The story ends with you reflecting on the end of your relationship, surrounded by reminders of happier times, and coming to terms with the fact that his love couldn’t overcome the demands of his career.

Your apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of the wind outside. The room was adorned with mementos of happier times: photographs of you and Chan at various dates, the dried flowers he had given you, and the soft glow of a candle he had gifted you on your last anniversary. You looked around at these reminders of the love he once showered upon you, and the ache in your chest grew heavier.

Chan had always been attentive and loving. He was the kind of person who surprised you with flowers on ordinary days, who planned elaborate dates to keep the spark alive, and who held you close during quiet evenings. His affection had been a constant source of joy and comfort. But recently, his work had begun to overshadow everything, and the promises he made seemed to dissolve into the busy ether of his life.

Tonight was supposed to be special. It was a night you had planned weeks in advance, but as you checked your phone for the umpteenth time, there was no message from Chan. The time for your date had long passed, and still, there was no word from him.

You tried to distract yourself, but your mind kept replaying past conversations, his apologies becoming more frequent and less convincing. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer. You dialed his number, and after a few rings, he answered, his voice tinged with fatigue.

“Hey, Chan. Where are you?”

There was a moment of silence before he responded. “I’m really sorry, but I’m still caught up at the studio. I thought I’d be done by now, but things have gone awry.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. “This is the third time this month you’ve stood me up, Chan. I understand you’re busy, but you’ve been promising to make time for us, and it’s just not happening.”

His voice softened, but there was a distant quality to it. “I know. I’m really sorry. I just need a bit more time to finish this up.”

“Time,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. “That’s all you keep asking for. But every time I wait, it’s like you’re not even trying to be here. I feel like I’m losing you.”

You could hear the guilt in his voice as he spoke. “I don’t want you to feel that way. You mean so much to me, more than anything else.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always choosing work over me?” Your voice cracked, the frustration and hurt spilling out. “I need to feel like I’m a priority in your life, not just an afterthought.”

Chan was silent for a moment before replying, “I understand if you’re upset. I really do. I just wish I could make it right.”

You felt the tears welling up, your vision blurring. “I don’t want to keep feeling like this, Chan. I need someone who’s present, who makes an effort. I can’t keep waiting for promises that never seem to come through.”

His sigh was heavy with resignation. “If that’s how you feel, then maybe it’s best if we take a break. I don’t want to hold you back from finding someone who can give you what you need.”

The finality in his words was like a cold, heavy weight pressing down on your chest. You had hoped for a solution, some compromise, but it seemed that even his love wasn’t enough to bridge the growing chasm between you.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said quietly, feeling the sting of the truth. “Maybe this is for the best.”

You ended the call and set your phone down, the room feeling colder and more desolate than before. The flowers and memories seemed like cruel reminders of a love that, despite its depth, could not withstand the distance and broken promises.

You sat in silence, the weight of the decision settling over you. It was over now, and all that remained were the echoes of what had once been—a love that had been beautiful but was ultimately overshadowed by the demands of time and circumstances

Tag: @kairoot

[notfreetoday]

MPW Ep 2 Subtitle Corrections

Subtitle Corrections: Ep 1 here

Cultural/Language Tidbits: Ep 2 here

Same translation disclaimer applies. Thanks to everyone reading the first post and geeking out with me in the notes, I really appreciate it XD Ok, Ep 2, let's go! Sorry in advance for the length!

If you're wondering why Yoh's freaking out about the rainy season even though they've been together for 3 years, the manga artist posted a clarification on twitter:

By the way, “it’s been 3 years since then” – that phrase refers to it being 3 years since that conversation regarding the slave contract. As for living together, they’ve only just started (to do so) around Mar/April*, so (at this point) it’s only been a few months (for them). What if (I) got it wrong…. I remember making a note of it, but the file that I wrote it in and passed over (to the crew) couldn’t be found right, so… (was it) a dream?” *Japan's rainy season comes around June/July, so this means that this is the first rainy season these two have been experienced together.

[Y: まずっ] Y: Tastes bad In case the original "that sucks" sounds like Yoh might be talking about the news of the young forecaster - he's really just talking about the food here.

[S: 遅くなるからいらねぇっつっただろう] Original: I told you not to bother since I returned late Mine: I told you I wouldn't need it cause I'd be late right? This is actually a pretty harsh sounding line tbh. It's sort of inkeeping with Segasaki's curtness, but still pretty harsh - so this tells us he's tired after a long day, and explains the frown on his face that Yoh just wipes away with his cuteness

Nikujaga literally means meat and potatoes. It's a stewed dish and a very well-loved comfort food. Super easy to make too (link goes to an easy to follow recipe, and the site also explains a little about the dish).

[Y: 本当、顔だけはいいよな] Y: Really, it's only his face that looks good.

I've talked about this in my cultural/language tidbits for this episode (linked up top) but I'll add it here for completion's sake

[Y: あ、いや。なんでもない…です*] (Ah, iya, nandemonai…desu*) Y: Ah, no, it's….nothing* Yoh let's his sentence trail off before tacking on a "desu" at the end. "Desu" is an ending verb characteristic of "polite" speech, which Yoh doesn't use frequently with Segasaki (in fact, by this point, he has not used polite speech with Segasaki at all, except for maybe saying the full form of the word "welcome home", and even that's pushing it). Here he adds it at the end as an afterthought (the polite form of "iya" would be "iie", if he had wanted the whole sentence to be polite from the get go), which tells us that Yoh's feeling a little off-kilter here, and does introduce the slightest distance between him and Segasaki. We'll see this distance increase as the episode goes on.

[Y: いや、どう考えても食べ過ぎだろう] Y: No but, no matter which way you look at it, (he's) eaten way too much hasn't he? Btw, if your hair started standing at the spoon scraping the pot - in the manga artist's post about visiting the shooting venue (as well as during Ep 1 twitter space) it was mentioned that Mashiko, the actor, can actually cook, so during filming they had to tell him what someone who can't would likely do, and also asked him to do the housework poorly (because Yoh's not supposed to be good at cooking or housework hahaha)

この人*、明日も朝早いんだよな。たぶん。 Original: This guy, has an early morning again tomorrow. Probably. Mine: This person*, has (to leave) early tomorrow morning too. Probably. *The word here is "kono hito", literally "this person". There's actually nothing wrong with the translation "this guy" tbh because that's a fairly neutral term in English, but I'm highlighting it here because in his monologues, Yoh usually refers to Segasaki using much rougher language, such as "koitsu, aitsu", except when he addresses Segasaki directly in his head. I'll talk more about how Yoh addresses Segasaki in the analysis post, but for now - this sentence hints that Yoh has clocked Segasaki's tiredness (subconsciously or not) and is feeling a little bad for him. Then again he quickly hides that by adding on "probably". (Adding the word "probably" behind your sentence is a common way to express doubt/negate what you just said, and incidentally is commonly used by comedians to deliver a punchline).

[Y: あの*…あの…寝るなら部屋でとおもって。] Original: Um… Hey… You should go back to your room. Mine: Um*... Um... if you're going to sleep then, (it would be better to sleep) in your room - at least that's what I thought...

*"あの…" (ano…), translated as "um" here, is a common sound you use when you want to get someone's attention but don't want to sound too demanding - it actually isn't being polite per se, but it does show the hesitancy with which Yoh approaches him. Contrast this with the way Segasaki gets Yoh's attention (so far it's just been "Yoh" or "Oi" - the latter of which you would NOT use unless you were close to the person, or looking for a fight).

As a general rule of thumb, the level of politeness in Japanese is directly correlated with the length of the sentence and just how far you can beat around the bush. So, Yoh's suggestion that Segasaki goes to sleep in his room is literally just "if sleeping, then room..." and everything else in that translation is assumed. He may not being using polite speech forms here (that would be "to omoimashita" instead of "to omotte") but this is still a common way to be polite because he's making a suggestion that is so mild Segasaki can choose to ignore it. This is a great example of Brown & Levinson's "negative politeness" which we'll revisit when analysing their speech patterns, and which you can read about in entirely too much detail here (free to read).

[Y: じゅあ、俺は寝るので** あの、その、そういうことで、おやすみ] Original: Then, I’ll go to sleep. That…sort of thing. Good night. Mine: So then, I'm going to bed, therefore**... Um... that... with that... night!

"Therefore" is an awkward translation for the word ので (node), which is more often translated as "so". I've chosen to use that word because "node", whilst again not a polite form per se, is less colloquial than the more commonly used "から(kara)", to mean the same thing. It tends to pop up more in writing than in speech. "Therefore" doesn't make a sentence polite/formal in English, but it's definitely less colloquial than using the word "so". The use of "node" is just that tiny bit out of place in this sentence paired with the informal pronoun "ore" for "I" as opposed to the more formal choice of "boku".

Again, Yoh answers Segasaki properly here with a "はい (hai)" as opposed to his usual "un" (which is a sound that expresses agreement), when told that Segasaki will be late again. There actually aren't very many moments where Yoh does speak politely to Segasaki (he's definitely rude when he talks about Segasaki in his head hahaha), so these moments stand out. This whole short exchange, together with the random -desu he added earlier, just make Yoh's sentences a little more stilted/awkward, and more distant. Individually they don't deserve much mention at all, but together, and in the context of his jealousy, show just how unsure Yoh is about where he stands with Segasaki.

[Y: あの人の帰宅が遅くなり] Y: That person returned home later and later

"That person" - similar to the above usage of "this person". This sentence is incomplete - the verb form of the last word - 遅くなり (osokunari) indicates that there should be a second part to the sentence (the "completed" form would be osokunatta). But after he says this, there is a pregnant pause, as Yoh puts his phone down and continues cooking alone. The pause continues all the way into the next scene, before the sentence continues, highlighting the loneliness that Yoh feels.

[Y: 当然、触れられることもないままに] Original: Of course, he did not touch me at all Mine: (and) of course, (I) remained untouched (by him) as well

The literal translation for this would be "(the situation in which I) was not touched (by him) continued on as well". Yoh uses the passive form of the word "touch", which places the emphasis on Yoh "receiving" the action of being touched as opposed to placing the emphasis on Segasaki "carrying out" the action of touching Yoh. Consider the difference between the sentences "I was hurt by him" and "he hurt me". The former is the passive form, and is super common in Jp, much less common in Eng. If this is confusing - welcome to Jp grammar just know that the emphasis of this line is more on what Yoh does not have, rather than what Segasaki has not done. It accentuates Yoh's feelings of emptiness and loss.

Y: すっかり日々は過ぎて Y: The days pass by completely ...

Similarly, this sentence is "incomplete", and is instead continued by Segasaki walking in and telling Yoh he'll be late again. (This whole bit just hurts my soul tbh, Yoh is so lonely. )

This is a teruteru bouzu aka a charm of sorts for good weather. See the cultural tidbits post for Ep 2 linked up top for more info!

This is said really strongly, and gives the "what the hell are you doing" feel. Yoh's truly upset here.

I try not to care about some of the subs in these side conversations because they don't add much to the main story and these posts are already too long, but this sentence should really be "Dammit, maybe I should (go) troll the chat" (and the previous sentence should be "If this was broadcasted in a certain country it would be instant death" aka N.Korea ^^;) and I just think it was a nice touch to hint at the fandom wars/flaming that goes on between fans hahaha

[Y: しんどい] Y: This is too draining The word here used is "shindoi", which is a term used when you're feeling mentally/physically exhausted/drained, and carries a sense of frustration (at feeling this way) and sometimes (emotional) pain.

This. Is. Huge. Segasaki does 2 things here - one, he rejects an after-work meal, which you rarely do because Japan is all about the group and rejecting a group invite, to welcome a new member, can make you seem like you aren't a team player - two, the guy who invites him is his senior, which you can tell because Segasaki sticks to polite speech forms whilst the other guy does not. It's still relatively casual, so you can tell he's got a good working relationship with them (probably why he's not worried about rejecting them) but still. In Segasaki's world, Yoh is the No. 1 priority.

This is more accurately "WTF". There are many sounds in Japanese that aren't exactly words, but carry a lot of meaning - "Haa?!" is one of them, and is a very rude way to express a lot of anger and shock. Please, never say this in real life. You will royally piss off whoever it's directed at and if you are outside a Shibuya bar you will get punched.

The word used here is てめぇ (temee), which is a really rude way to say "you", and has the same energy as "you bastard". Segasaki usually uses the informal pronoun "omae" for "you" when he talks to Yoh, he's definitely pissed off here.

This is the same word, "shindoi" again.

I'm going to put the rest of the whole argument here with just my translation because it's too long to screencap the whole thing.

[S: 何なんだよ？このエロい惨状は Y: うるさい。 Y: 俺は売れっ子エロ漫画家になるんだ S: なんだそりゃ。おい *takes away beer can* Y: 売れっ子さんが　シコリながらネーム描くと　いいのができるって言ってた S: なんも描けてなかったぞ。 S: おい、だめだっつってんの S: 飲みすぎ　出すもん出して　寝てただけだろう Y: 黙れ！ Y: 俺はエロくて　抜ける漫画描いて　いっぱい稼いで Y: 早く　こんなとこ出ていくんだ S: はあ？　おい、お前　どういうつもりだよ Y: どうもこうもないよ！ Y: 平気で抱かれてると思うなよ 。 Y: 俺のこと、好きでもないくせに Y: 便利な奴隷としか思ってないんだろう？そんなにやりたきゃ隣のキャスターとやってろよ S: お前　さっきから　何を... Y: 俺はあんな風に笑いかけられたことない]

Breakdown: S: What's up with this? This lewd disaster of a scene Y: (You're) annoying! ["うるさい (urusai)" is often translated as "shut up", but it literally means someone is being "noisy", and here is more of a complaint that Segasaki is being bothersome] Y: I'm going to become a hot-selling erotica manga artist! [the word used here is 売れっ子 (urekko), which literally means "someone who gets huge sales" and mostly refers to idols, entertainers, TV personalities etc. So Yoh is not just saying he's going to become popular, he's saying he's gonna be like a celebrity manga artist, which is why Segasaki snorts a little at this] S: What's with that? Hey. *takes away beer can* Y: The hot sellers say that if you jerk off whilst drawing your storyboard, you'll come up with good stuff [urekko-san is a pretty cute way of referring to these popular artists] S: You've not drawn anything, you know? [this is said with a really indulgent air, which contrasts directly with the more authoritative tone of the next line] S: Hey, I'm telling you no more *grabs beer can* S: You drank too much. You just shot what you shot and then went to sleep didn't you? [And this is back to an indulgent tone - also, everyone knows Segasaki is talking about cumming here, he just doesn't actually say it so directly] Y: Shut up! ["黙れ (damare) - contrast with "urusai" earlier. The former is used much less commonly and really does mean to "be quiet". This is why Segasaki pauses and looks at Yoh. Up until now Segasaki just thinks Yoh's gotten drunk and is whining cutely, but this word means things are serious.] Y: I'm going to draw manga that is erotic, that you can wank off to, and then earn lots of money [this is a call back to the conversation with Man-san over the phone in Ep 1, which I did not include earlier because I didn't think it was important to the story when Yoh says "the work that was released last month was amazing! There was a big buzz around the topic "I can't wank off (to this)" - Yoh was being sarcastic here, meaning that he got reviews that his work wasn't erotic enough] Y: and leave this sort of place soon! S: What? Hey - what (the hell) are you thinking? [Again, "haa?" here shows he does NOT like what Yoh's saying, but he does soften the end of the sentence with a "yo"] Y: I'm not thinking of anything! Y: Embracing me so easily - don't think you can (keep on) doing that [again, this is the passive form, so the emphasis is on Yoh being embraced, and here has the nuance of "don't think I'll just (keep on) being fine with being embraced (by you) like it's some sort of norm"] Y: when you don't even like me [this line has quite a bit of bitterness in it - the emphasis here is strongly on Segasaki and his apparent "non-liking" of Yoh my english is dying.] Y: You think of me as just a convenient slave, don't you? Y: If you want to do it that much, go do it with that forecaster next to you! S: You... from the start... what have (you been saying?) Y: I have never been smiled at like that before [again, this is in passive voice]

It's obvious from the acting alone that this entire argument is pretty emotionally charged - this is also reflected in the language because Yoh uses the pronoun "ore (I)" a lot. Pronouns are frequently dropped in Japanese - often you can go an entire conversation without ever uttering the words "I/me" or "you", in part because the pronouns are assumed and also because emphasis on an individual can come across as too selfish/narcissistic or direct. Segasaki uses them often enough with Yoh, which fits his personality, but Yoh normally doesn't. So, when he uses "ore" here it stands out - his plans to be successful and leave, his feelings, his interpretation of Segasaki's actions - all of the emphasis is on his own self. The message is very clear - Yoh is hurting a lot more than he is blaming or accusing Segasaki.

[Y: もう疲れた。あんたといると疲れる。嫌いだ S: お前　酒入るとめちゃくちゃしゃべるんだな Y: ねぇ、何で雨の時はだめなの？ S: はあ？　だって、お前が言ったんだろう] Y: (I'm) tired out. When (I'm) with you, (I) get tired. Hate it. [We've lost the "I" pronouns here, because the emphasis is on the extreme sense of physical and emotional fatigue as opposed to Yoh himself, and on how much he dislikes that feeling. Of note, "hate" here is closer to "detest/really dislike" - the word is "kirai" - which is not as strong as the word "nikui" which we talked about in Ep 1 when Yoh said he hated the part of him that always listened to Segasaki. Also, this is the first time Yoh has addressed Segasaki with the pronoun "you" out loud - he uses "あんた anta", which he also used in his head in Ep 1, after they did it. Again, we'll talk about this in the analysis post in the future, but for now just know that this term is usually used between older couples.] S: You... once you start drinking you really start talking huh? [literally, you "become able to talk"] Y: Hey...why is it when it rains, (we) can't do it? S: What? Because, you said so didn't you? [the last "haa?" from Segasaki! This time expressing his surprise and slight indignation.]

[S: 俺は優しいんだ] S: I. am. Kind. Great example of Segasaki's use of the "ore" pronoun here to quite literally emphasise how great he is. "優しい (kind)" in Japanese carries the connotation of being thoughtful, anticipating the other person's needs and wants and then meeting them etc. It's a characteristic that people often say they look for in their potential partners.

[S: そもそも、なんだ先の言いぐさは 好きじゃないだの　出ていきたいだの お前　俺のプロポーズを受けといてよくそんなことが言えんな S: 養ってやる*っつってんだ　プロポーズ以外になに] S: In the first place, what was with those things you said earlier? That you don't like me, that you want to leave... You... that was rich, saying all that after accepting my proposal. S: I was saying I'd provide and care* for you. If that's not a proposal than what is? ["養ってやる" is a pretty possessive way to say I'll provide for you - it's the same word used when referring to parent providing for a child, or an owner providing for a small animal. It's not rude per se, but it does imply a power imbalance. Segasaki actually sort of has a point here because... this is not something you say to someone else unless you're in a relationship ^^;]

S: ていうかお前、俺のこと嫌���なんだ S: どうなの S: Actually about that... so you hate me huh? S: Which is it?

S: ふーん。あ、そ S: Ohh..? I see. ふーん (Ohh..?) - Segasaki says this a lot, especially in this episode. This is another one of those sounds that isn't a word but carries a lot of meaning. It has a dismissive sort of tone to it, like you've already assumed something or when you're pretty nonchalant/not impressed about whatever the other person has said and are just playing along with them by giving them some attention (so again, if you use it wrongly, it can piss people off). Segasaki uses it whenever Yoh goes mute or shy, as a way to tease Yoh - though Yoh seems to think Segasaki is dismissing/not interested in his answer. あ、そ (A, so) - again, Segasaki says this a lot - can be interpreted as "oh really?/I see/is that so?" - Combined with the above, you can see why Yoh often thinks Segasaki isn't interested in his answer, and even when he does recognise it as teasing, he gets too flustered to do anything about it.

This seems to have gotten longer, if you reached the end - congratulations! I hope this makes it a little clearer why it's so obvious to us as the viewer that Segasaki is really quite patient with Yoh, and is waiting for him to come to terms with his feelings, but at the same time so confusing for Yoh, because of the way many of these interactions can be read both ways. In Ep 3, we'll really be able to get into their dynamics because they've got so much more interaction together.

[123pixieaod]

The Smell of Roses - (post-Singapore)

I can't sleep and I can't not think about Daniel fighting just for that single point for Max :,)))

“I owe you a point,” Max announced as soon as the door opened.

Daniel stared, the light of his kitchen spilling onto the dark corridor, pooling around Max’s feet.

“Max,” he finally said, “mate, what the fuck?”

If you were to ask Max how he ended up outside Daniel’s apartment at 3am on a Tuesday night, he’d give you a couple of options to choose from.

The first is, of course, the race the weekend previous. His radio crackling to life as he meandered along the streets of Singapore, trying to catch his breath. Second place. Sweat soaked through his race suit, clinging to the collar and running down the groove of his spine.

Second place. Not great, but there was no catching to Lando today. Second place. Best of the losers, but sometimes he can’t do any better.

Radio. Christian, congratulating him. Telling him he couldn’t extract anything more from the car. Then, an afterthought.

“And your old pal Daniel picked up the fastest lap at the end as well, Max.”

His beat of silence before he clicked on the radio, saying the only thing he could think. “Thank you, Daniel.”

-

Or maybe the moment started seven years previous. 2016, just after the German Grand Prix. Max’s first podium shared with Daniel. From podium to alone in a Red Bull conference room, a few days later and waiting for a meeting to commence. Daniel, leaning back in the office chair, throwing his cap in the air, catching it. Max sitting across, watching. The arch of the cap, navy and red splitting the air. Higher and higher. Daniel aiming to hit the ceiling and still catch it. Max, just watching. Always watching, always in awe.

“Excited for the race?” Daniel asked lazily, head still tilted back as he caught the cap. Max still watching, free to memorise the outline of his Adam’s apple.

“Sure,” he replied, a beat too slow.

“Just so you know, because you’re actually catching up to me in points now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you win so much now,” Daniel gave Max a smile, joking but also tinged with something cut-throat. Max smiled back, unsure why. A reaction. Flower opening to the sun. A moth fluttering to a flame. Inescapable, unstoppable.

“I’m going to fight for every point,” Daniel continued, tossing the cap up again. It made a soft noise as it finally bumped against the ceiling tile. He whooped, catching it, grinning at Max. “See that?”

“Very impressed.”

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed, setting the cap on his styled curls. Smooth skin, light brushing of stubble. Bright eyes, an even brighter smile. Alight from the inside out. “Just like I caught that cap, I’ll catch all the points. Like a Pokémon trainer, gotta catch them all.” He laughed. “Just so you know.”

“Noted.”

“I’m getting all the points now. The honeymooning period is over, baby!” Daniel grinned, and Max was saved from a reply by the door opening, Helmut finally arriving.

-

Or maybe it was a few years later. Christian inviting Max to have breakfast at his table. Turkey, 2020, and Max had qualified second, but fucked up the start. Second to eight in a single second. Then, after making up precious places, stupidly losing control and spinning. Three pit stops later, and managed to drag the car to sixth place. His only race that season where he finished and didn’t get on the podium. His own fucking fault. Lewis, Checo, Sebastian spraying champagne, and Max ruined his racing gloves by pelting them so hard against the garage wall the seam tore.

“You really should take stock in your sixth place,” Christian said, buttering a croissant. “Eight points are valuable.”

“They’re useless,” Max muttered. Arms crossed, stubbornly refusing to touch his anaemic-looking spinach omelette. “They’re not exactly twenty-five points. Not much against Hamilton’s 307 points.”

If he had come first and Bottas hadn’t finished, he’d have gone up. Elevated finally to second in the championship. His first time ever being just one standing below the victor. But he fucked it. Now, there’s 27 points between him and Bottas. The gap growing, because he’s a fucking idiot driver.

“They’re not useless,” Christian said patiently, reaching for a little pot of jam. “Points are points.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather take home 25 points rather than eight,” Max muttered, and Christian finally looked up, setting down his cutlery.

“Do you know Shakespeare?”

Max wrinkled his nose. “Shakespeare?”

“The English poet,” Christian replied, as if that was a perfectively normal conversation change.

“Of course I do. Romeo and Juliet and all that shit.”

Christian raised an eyebrow.

“Stuff,” Max amended.

“Perhaps you may have heard this quote,” he went on, finally beginning to spread the jam on his croissant. Max watched the action, his pale fingers holding the knife, dragging it back and forth over the buttery flakes. “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Have you heard of it?”

Sometimes, Max forgot his team principal went duck shooting and rode his own purebred horses in his downtime.

“No,” Max said. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s from Romeo and Juliet. And I like to think the quote can be extended also to F1 points. It doesn’t matter how many you get, or even how you get them. As long as you get them. As long as you stop your rivals from achieving them. No matter how many. Even a single point. Points, by any other name, would still smell as sweet.”

Max frowned, utterly lost. “We should call points something different? A codename? Is this like a strategy to confuse the other teams on the radio?”

Christian smiled, eyes creased. “Something like that, sure.”

-

Daniel has a rose tattoo. It’s on his thumb, small and dark and perfect. Max can see it now, the dark lines etched into his tanned skin. He’s holding the door open, fingers against door’s side, thumb facing Max.

A tiny rose.

-

Maybe, he has to go even further back to figure out why he’s here. Back to the very beginning.

At a carting track, sitting on a discarded wheel. His father kneeling in front of him, hand on his knees.

“How could you just like that boy get the better of you?” He was saying, voice low and urgent. “I didn’t raise a pussy, Max. Or did I?”

Max shook his head, but his dad was already continuing.

“Why didn’t you go for that opening at corner five? And don’t act like a bitch and say you were scared of crashing. There was enough space. And if there wasn’t, you make the space. Force the other driver to move. Nine times out of ten, a driver would rather get out of your way than have you crash into him. Why didn’t you push him? You could’ve Max, and then you would have an actual trophy, and not this plastic shit. Second?” He scoffed. “Fastest fucking loser. Say it back to me, Max.”

“Fastest fucking loser,” he mumbled.

“Good. Now, tell me. Why didn’t you do that move? No, don’t shrug like that. I was an answer.”

“I -“ Max’s tongue felt ten times heavier than usual. “I don’t -“

“You do know, because you did it. Tell me.”

“I… I didn’t… We are friends, and I did not -“

“Friends!” His father barked out a laugh, and then leaned close. “Listen Max. There’s no friends in racing. Do you know where having friends lead you too? Here, sat outside on the fucking ground when your friend takes photos with his trophy. It gets you fastest fucking loser. There are no friends in carting, no friends in F1. Nothing is genuine in this sport. And if you think it is, you’ll about to wake up with a knife in your back and dead last in every race. Now, which one would you prefer? Being last and having friends, or winning? Do you want to be a winner, Max?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop being a fucking pussy.”

-

Daniel congratulated him on his second world championship. Hugging him properly, arms wrapped around his shoulder, squeezing. Pulling away to grin.

“You really are the fucking goat,” teasing, but genuine. A warm flush across his already bronze complexion. Hand still clamped on Max’s shoulder. “Congratulations mate.”

Max trying to remember how to reply.

-

Or maybe it was GP trying to get Max to have a sit-down meeting with him on data feedback. 2019, and Max didn’t want to hear any of it.

“Fine. Please, you tell me what you want to do at the next race, and we’ll do it,” GP replied casually, good at hiding his annoyance. “Let me know. Sets, fuel, run plan.”

Max clenched his jaw, and the older man sighed. “Listen, I’m trying to help - “

“I don’t need help,” Max snapped. GP blinked at him.

“Max,” he said softly, as if breaking bad news. “Everyone needs help.”

“I don’t.”

He gave him a look, somewhere between pity and amusement. “Everyone needs help,” he repeated.

-

So yes, if you were to ask how he ended up here, outside Daniel’s door at 3am the weekend after the Singapore GP, Max would say there’s a few reasons.

“I owe you a point,” he repeated stubbornly. “You got the fastest lap in Singapore. You took the point away from Lando and McLaren and their fight for my title. So, I owe you a point.”

“Mate,” Daniel said, blinking, “sorry but let me repeat myself again. What the fuck?”

ao3

[whowantslovergirl]

Feather

JJ Maybank x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: SELF RESPECT, JJ is kinda toxic in this, just Y/N being THAT BITCH, and my queen Sabrina Carpenter, ^this means start the song💋 hope you enjoy my lovers 🤍

outer banks masterlist

Summary: Y/N is so happy now that JJ is out of her life

posted: February 5,2024

Y/n and JJ. JJ and Y/n. The perfect couple until JJ thought it was funny to sleep with other girls behind Y/n’s back. They broke up as soon as she found out.

After they broke up, she never realized how draining JJ was.

She feels so free. ^

Oh, it's like that, I'm your dream come true

When it's on a platter for you

Then you pull back when I try to make plans

More than two hours in advance, mm

Another plan that Y/n made that JJ canceled.

Three days before the actual plan.

She had her suspicions but she never acted on it.

______

“Hey Jay. Why’d you cancel on me? I was really excited to go out.”

“Just couldn’t make it baby. Never would have cancelled willingly.” He said through a fake smile.

That is such a lie.

I slam the door, I hit ignore

I'm saying, "No, no, no, no more"

I got you blocked

After this, an afterthought

“Get out! You fucking cheater!” Y/n found out about JJ’s girls. And now he’s saying that it didn’t mean anything and he loves her all that bullshit.

But Y/n is not buying it.

“Baby just hear me out.” She’s pushing him out the door and when he was finally out.

“No! We’re over!” She slammed the door and left him outside of her room. He didn’t even try to get her to open the door.

Y/n knew he never cared.

______

‘Hey it’s Y/n I don’t check my voicemails so just text me!’

He called you five times and they always go straight to voicemail. Then he texted you. Apologizing.

loml jj 🤍

Baby please (not delivered)

They didn’t mean anything to me (not delivered)

Fine be like that (not delivered)

You know I love you Y/n (not delivered)

She blocked him.

He threw his phone and ran his hands through his hair. They’re really over.

I finally cut you off

I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind, ah

Floatin' through the memories like whatever

You're a waste of time, ah

It’s been two months since the infamous break up of Y/n and JJ.

People can tell that JJ is doing terrible and you’re doing absolutely amazing.

You’ve been partying, living your best life and you realized how much JJ was a burden. He would never let you drink this much or party in general for that matter.

God, you feel so much lighter than a feather with him off your mind.

Your signals are mixed, you act like a bitch

You fit every stereotype, "Send a pic"

I feel so much lighter like a feather with you out my life

With you out my life

When you guys were together, he sent you so many mixed signals. One time he’s happy and telling you he loves you and wants to marry you. Then five minutes later yelling at you saying he hates you.

And don’t forget about the begging for nudes.

**Flashback**

loml jj 🤍

come on bby, just one picture

**End of Flashback*

Ew, it makes you disgusted just thinking about it.

Like a feather, like a feather, like a feather, yeah

It feels so good not carin' where you are tonight

And it feels so good not pretendin' to like the wine you like

You’re in your bed watching to hot too handle, you hate it but it’s very interesting. It’s like 12am and you would usually be worrying where JJ is. But you’re not and you love that.

Drinking sprite instead of that nasty beer JJ liked. It feels so good.

You loveeee being single.

I slam the door (Slam the door), I hit ignore (Hit ignore)

I'm saying, "No, no, no, no more"

I got you blocked, excited to never talk, I

I'm so sorry for your loss

“Oh my god JJ! Get out!” JJ went up to your room through your window. Your window.

“You know you should really start locking that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Get out!”

“No not until you talk to me Y/n.”

You just let him speak and he takes a deep breath.

“Yes I cheated but it didn’t mean anything baby. You know I love you and I just wasn’t in the right state of mind when it happened.”

You just roll your eyes. “That sounds like bullshit JJ. Nothing is a reliable excuse for what you did.”

Before he can speak you pushed him out of your house.

“I’m sorry for your loss JJ.” Then you slammed the door on him.

I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind, ah

Floatin' through the memories like whatever

You're a waste of time, ah

Your signals are mixed, you act like a bitch (A bitch)

After JJ snuck in your room, you just stared at the ceiling wondering if what he was saying is true.

Wait why are you thinking about that? It’s over. He’s a cheater and you are having a great time where you’re at.

You fit every stereotype, "Send a pic"

I feel so much lighter like a feather with you out my life

With you out my life

He’s finally out of your life and you feel amazing. He’s a great guy don’t get me wrong, but he’s a cheater.

Whatever you feel amazing with him out of your life.

Like a feather, like a feather, like a feather

You want me? I'm done

You miss me? No duh

Where I'm at, I'm up where I'm at

“I want you baby. I didn’t mean it!”

“JJ I’m done!”

You want me? I'm done (I'm done)

You miss me? No duh (No duh)

Where I'm at, I'm up (I'm up) where I'm at

“You know I miss you Y/n.”

“Yeah who wouldn’t JJ?”

You want me? I'm done

(I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind)

You miss me? No duh

Where I'm at, I'm up where I'm at

“JJ you can’t help your case. I’m finally happy. I feel like a weight just came off my shoulders. Please leave me alone.”

(Like a feather, like a feather, like a feather)

You want me? I'm done

(I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind)

You miss me? No duh

Where I'm at, I'm up where I'm at

After you told JJ to leave you alone, he finally left you alone. You can’t believe it only took three words. You do feel a little bad but whatever it’s his loss.

(Like a feather, like a feather, like a feather, yeah)

An: SABRINA CARPENTER MENTIONED RAHHHHH but hope yall enjoyed my lovers 🤍🤍 and don’t mind the mistakes they’re gonna be fixed

[clumsiestgiantess]

Just for y’all, a short that became a little two-part story (next part coming soon) inspired by this post by @tinyascanbe

@thetinylittlespider @entomolog-t @tinyundercover y’all seemed interested in this unforgiving angst, so here you go!

Blood trickles down my arm for.. I don’t know, maybe the fifth time?  Sixth?  I’ve only been like this for three days.  Already the threat of bleeding to death is a common occurrence for me.  It’s not like I have much blood to bleed out anyway.  I’m.. I don’t know how small I am.  The grass is taller than my head, and bugs can be anywhere from forearm length to larger than myself.  I really just want to go home.

I was jogging through one of the nearby neighborhoods like I always did, when something felt wrong.  Lightheadedness clouded my thoughts, so I’d stepped into a lawn beside myself to avoid getting hit while I recovered — perhaps I hadn’t drank enough water.  However, by the time my head cleared, I was standing below the grass I’d previously been stepping on.

At first it was just confusing.  How could something like that just happen?  For a while I had myself convinced that it was some weird dream; I hadn’t even woken up and started my day at all.  However, things got real rather quickly once my search for a clearing in the forest of weeds and blades of grass landed me at the edges of an anthill.  I’d been chased out of there — hounded down and nearly bitten to death.  

Their jaws.. mandibles.. whatever the hell they are.. nearly tore my limbs right off my body.  I had to beat at their eyes and heads relentlessly until they were forced to let me go.  I just wasn’t strong enough to get out of their grip.  To think I once flicked them off me without a second thought.  Now, after managing to get far enough away from them to stop and look at my injuries, I found that all it took was a few hard bites to put a limb out of commission for the day.  Thankfully, I hadn’t gotten many more than that, or I would’ve lost a limb permanently.

It was like I’d been dropped on an alien world.  I’m all for a good hike, and I know a decent amount about camping out in nature, but no survival guide had ever told me how to kill a beetle the size of my torso for a meal, or warned me that said beetle could then turn and try to make a meal out of me.  That was about all the hunting I was up for once I was left with large gashes torn out of my back and arms.

Every day and night since then I only became more and more aware of just how awful life had become.  I’d gone from believing it was a dream, to begging for it to be a dream.  Though if anything it’s a nightmare.  

My only hope is getting to the house that this yard is connected to.  If I could just get someone who isn’t a bug to find me — someone who wouldn’t try to hurt me on sight or stare at me with an emotionless terrifying face as I pass by.  I’ve barely drank anything the last three days, and I know I haven’t eaten.  Sleep is basically an afterthought.  Everything starts shrieking at night, and even if it were silent, something might come and drag me away the moment I doze off.

By the dawn of the third day, I start hallucinating.  I- I swear I can hear my friends voices.   They’re here somewhere with me, right?  They came to find me, right?!  I can’t.. die out here alone.

There!  Oh my god there’s someone here!  “HELP!” I screamed, stumbling blearily through the endless stalks of grass.  They’re running from me; why are they running?!  “PLEASE!  COME BACK!”  

I.. might’ve fell?  Scrambling upright, I rushed through the grass and weeds that seemed to have grown denser with each step.  I couldn’t run through them anymore and begun clawing at their stalks, desperately trying to carve a path through.  How did they get through so easily?!

Sobbing angrily, I shoved and pushed and clawed- and passed out.  It could’ve been an hour or a few seconds later when I came to.  I was in a ditch of dirt, grime coating my arms, shoulders, and especially fingers — everything I’d used to make my way through the strangely dense plants.  For a brief moment I sat in silence, then bubbly laughter began to wheeze uncontrollably from my parched throat.  “I was clawing up dirt the whole time!” I gasped through almost manic laughter.  “It was pointless!  I- There wasn’t anyone there!”

And that’s where I’m at: bleeding out from the wounds I tore open yet again — curled up in a ditch I’ve dug for myself.  It’ll most likely be my grave.  My stomach growls angrily and my insides start to burn.  The acid inside it jumps up my throat, and my uncontrollable giggling quickly morphs into a sob.  “Please…  I- I can’t do this anymore…” I whimper, clutching my stomach only for my atrophied muscles to spasm and ooze blood from my cuts.

“JUST KILL ME!!!” I shriek into the void, “IT HURTS!!!”  One moment I’m laying there in my own blood and tears, the next I’m being dragged away by something.  Some large and furry creature starts dragging me across the ground with one of my legs in its mouth.  I let it.  At least I’m going somewhere.  

I.. think I fell asleep?  More accurately I probably just slipped out of consciousness.  But I wake up once pain begins tearing freshly against my back.  I’m no longer being dragged over dirt, but rough concrete.  The front step.  Holy hell, I made it.  Forgetting about wanting to give up, I kick the creature as hard as I can with my other leg.  It squeaks, drops me, and runs off.

Slowly and agonizingly, I drag myself to the first and only step.  If it were day one or maybe two, I could’ve managed getting over it, but now, starting up at the top from the ground… it’s impossible.  I’d die trying to make it up.  “Someone h- help..”  It was supposed to be a scream, but I couldn’t even manage that.  Panting in pain and sobbing in desperation, I silently beg someone — anyone — to come find me.  No one does.

I wake up in complete darkness, unable to move.  Terrified that I’d died, I cry out.  “H—?”  Well, I try crying out.  I hear rumbling, like distant thunder.  If it rains I think I should drown myself at this point.  There’s a scraping around me.  I’m inside a box or.. some kind of container.  Sudden light flashes into my vision and I yelp, closing my eyes as they painfully adjust.  

“Y- You woke up?”  A voice echoes through the air — far too loud to be normal.  I blink through the new lighting and stare up at the person towering over me.  A middle-aged woman looks down from above, baffled.  “You… I- I thought you were dead!”  I flinch at her exclamation and turn away, only to find myself at the bottom of a small box made to fit a bracelet or necklace.  The perfect size to become a makeshift coffin for something my size.  “I-” I cough as my throat closes up for a few seconds.  “I’m sorry?” the voice from above asks.  They lean closer in time to catch the tail end of my coughing.

“Oh!  Here, I’ll get you something to drink.  I- I’m so sorry I sealed you in a box; poor thing!  I.. thought you were already dead, but I was too fascinated to bury you quite yet.”  I’m not sure whether to be thankful for that or be terrified by it.  What do you mean, ‘fascinated’?  I didn’t have the strength to get up so I just sorta.. lay there, staring at the ceiling way too high above me.

When she comes back, the giant- ..human.  Human, not giant.  I’m just.. small.  She tries to sit me up, but my whole body tenses in pain and I cry out in agony.  I’m released as she flinches, and I fall back to the bottom of the box with another sob.  “Oh honey, I’m sorry!” she apologizes hastily, “I- I didn’t mean to do that.  You- You’re hurt!  Here, let me help you.”  She dresses my more obvious wounds, gently moving each limb as she cares for it.  Picking up my hand, she gently turns it over — pressing it between her fingers as she scrutinizes it.

“You’re.. so small,” she says in awe.  “You aren’t a fairy-tale creature, are you?  You’re wearing.. normal clothes.. so I’d think you aren’t.  Those shouldn’t even be that small…”  I briefly glance down at my under armour tee.

“Are you…?  Did you…?”  She keeps pausing, unsure what to say.  “Were you normal-sized before?”  I nod weakly, and she gasps.  “Oh no!  How long have you been out there for?”  With a shaking hand I manage to hold up three fingers.  “Three hours?  That must’ve been awf-”  I interrupt her with a head shake.  “Three.. Three days?”  That time I give a nod.  “No wonder you’re in such awful shape!  I can’t believe it…  I found you curled up at the bottom of my doorstep.  I thought you were my youngest’s toy at first, but when I picked you up you.. started bleeding.”  Her voice grew hushed, mind wandering.

“Do you have anyone at home to look after you?” she asks me.  I begin to shake my head, then pause as the realization dawns on me.  I.. can’t even go home.  I won’t be able to get anything to help myself.  The gigantic person leans down over me to check my understanding and I quickly shake my head so she’ll get back.  “Oh.. that’s alright, honey.  I’ll take care of you in the meantime.  Do you need anything now?”

“Wa—  Water-” I manage to choke out.  I desperately wanted to talk to her — to ask her if she could bring me something more comfortable to lay on, or at the very least feed me.  The woman nodded, “Of course!  I forgot I even brought this.  You’ll have to sit up, though.  You’ll choke otherwise.”  I knew that.  I want to sit up.  However, I can’t even move without severe pain stopping me.  “Here, let me.”  Fearfully, I watch her fingers slide down to the sides of my head.  I cry out, trying to duck to get away from the massive digits.  Her squeezing and pressing my hand was terrifying enough; I was nearly convinced she would accidentally twist it in the wrong direction.  But my face.. my head?!  One strong grip will be enough to cave my skull in.

“No, no, no!  Shh, it’s ok!  I won’t hurt you; I’m just trying to help.”  “I -n— th-t!” I squeak out, nearly incomprehensibly.  My muscles sting while I try in vain to cover my face.  As her fingers nudge my head upwards, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to force away the horrible dark thoughts.  This is what I wanted — someone who can help me...  So why is this just as terrifying as being outside?!  I nearly scream as the pad of a gigantic finger rests at the back of my neck.  I can feel the strength wavering just behind it.  I can feel just how little pressure she’d have to apply to get it to snap.

My head slowly gets pressed upward, and I can’t help but sob slightly.  “Aww, you’re alright little one.  I’ll be very gentle,” she tells me sweetly.  With tiny crumbs of food, and an oversized cap of water, she feeds me — right out of her hand.  It’s.. the only way I can eat without awful pain, but it’s humiliating!  After the first few bites to save my stomach from eating me alive, I debate going hungry rather than letting this happen.

After letting me eat for a while, the woman places a torn-off piece of a cotton ball beneath my head where her finger used to rest.  I want to ask: ‘you couldn’t have done that earlier?’ but hold back.  Mostly because my voice still sounds awful and unrecognizable, but also because I need her.  I can’t yell at her to get away from me, unless I want to try surviving on my own again…

“Alright,” the woman sighs, startling me from my thoughts, “I’ve got to get to bed.  Will you be fine, or do you think I should stay up to watch you?”  “I’ll be f-ne,” I rasp.  She nods slowly, “Ok.. I’ll come check up on you a bit later, alright?  Should I leave the light on?”  I shake my head.  “Just call for me if you need anything; my name’s Kristine.”

Stepping away from wherever she placed me, I watch her hand reach up to somewhere beyond my view and click off a lamp to the side of me.  For a long while I lay there in complete darkness with nothing but my thoughts and the dull throbbing of.. basically everything.  It was only then, in the middle of the night, when I actually needed to call her, that I realized I couldn’t.  My throat was too scratched up.  I fall back asleep with my stomach roiling.

The next morning, I wake up to an empty room.  Without a gigantic person hovering around, I feel brave enough to test my injuries.  Things finally seem to work again.  I can get up out of the little box I’d been placed in; I can speak properly.  Wandering the dresser where I stand, I use the free time to stretch my muscles — figure out what I can and can’t do.  The food and water I was given still sit beside the box, so I help myself to it.  I’m practically starving again.  

After filling myself to satisfaction, I notice a cord running down the back of the dresser.  It’s such a tempting idea to slide down it to the floor…  Surely I have enough time to explore and come back.  She might not be back for hours.  The logic seems sound enough to me.  I head for the space between the wall and the dresser and cautiously slip between them, shimmying downward.  It’s not so bad of a journey, but then I get to the opening at the bottom.  The place where the dresser stops and I can’t wedge myself between the large walls to stop myself from slipping.  With all the horrific events prior, my spent muscles can’t keep up with the sudden weight, and I tumble what must be the equivalent of eight feet to the floor.  

Oww.  That wasn’t the smartest thing for me to do directly after recovering, I’ll admit.  Standing wobbly to my feet, I look around the vast space.  Every piece of furniture, no matter how small, looks like a skyscraper to me.  It’s simultaneously terrifying and incredible at the same time.  Dust hangs in the air — reflecting sunlight like ambient lighting.  The carpet flooring nearly reaches my waist like an open field of high grass.

I get about a quarter of the way across the room before the gigantic door to my right swings open.  My heart thunders rapidly in my chest as I watch the giant person step into the room.  I try my hardest to convince myself I’ll be alright.  This isn’t an actual giant — just a person who looks like one from my tiny perspective.  She won’t try to hurt me.  Yet, I rethink my decision to stay instead of hide once she steps directly towards me while completely unaware of where I am.  

“Wait!” I cry out fearfully as her foot approaches, “I’m down here!  Don’t-!”  My words cut off as I brace myself for an awful weight to crush me down from above.  “Oh!  Oh my gosh I nearly stepped on you, little thing!  Why are you on the floor?”  Little thing?  “I- My name is-”  A hand the size of a large truck descends and snatches me into a fist before I can finish speaking.  Did she even hear me speaking?

Now I really am frightened.  I writhe in the giant woman’s grip, but to my horror, she only giggles.  “Oh stop it!  That tickles!”  Trapped on all sides by warm skin, I try kicking at the walls but it’s completely useless.  Seconds later she opens her hands and I fall ungracefully back into the little box where I’d woken.  I yelp in pain as I hit the bottom.  “Hello?!” I cry in outrage, startling the behemoth who dropped me.  “Could you be a bit gentler!?  I could barely move yesterday; I’m lucky just to be able to get up and walk around!”  

I’m given a pitying glance, which only makes my resentment stronger.  “Aww, even if you do get hurt again, I can always fix you up!  Besides, I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to be wandering around the place, anyway.  Who knows what other ways you might get hurt.  I almost stepped on you just now!”  “And who’s fault is that?” I mumbled.  “Here, I’ll be right back,” she tells me, slipping easily out of the room.  As if she hadn’t completely skipped past the point that I wasn’t getting hurt — she was hurting me.

With Kristine gone for quite a while, I expected her to bring back fresh food for me, maybe something comfier to line the box that’s now my bed.  Instead, she comes back with a large plastic container with a snap-on top that’s lined with slits and features a little magnifying glass window — a cheap creature container.  A horrified chill seeps through my skin and clings tightly to my bones.  “No…  No!  What do you think you’re doing with that?!”  I scramble out of the little box and make a run for the electrical cord, but my muscles tense with pain and I stumble across the counter.  

My bruises scream agonizingly as I fall against a wall of flesh.  “Wait-!”  I’m scooped up into a palm and deposited on the cold surface of the plastic container.  My voice cracks as I realize what’s going to happen to me.  “Please!  I-  I just want to go home!  I have a life!  I have a family!  You can’t keep me here!”  My captor smiles softly at me, then begins filling the container with various items for me: a few blankets cut out of fabric scraps, some cotton balls, a little container of food and a bottle cap of water.  “Honey, I’d love to take you home, but you’d have no one there to take care of you.  I’m sorry, but keeping you here is the safest thing for you.  You’ll be fine; I’ll get you whatever you need!”

I blanch at how calmly my captor tried to soothe me.  As she reaches to place the lid over the top of the enclosure, I make another attempt at freeing myself.  “B- But.. Can’t I at least stay out there?”  She shakes her head and my heart drops into my stomach.  “I’ve been meaning to hide you somewhere, anyways.  I don’t want my kids finding you small like this, and I don’t think you do either.”  “I can hide from them!  I can-!”  I’m cut off as the cage lurches forward into my captor’s arms.  I watch through teary-eyed vison as the container is brought into a walk-in closet and shoved onto a high shelf.  Moments later, an old shirt is thrown over the top of it.  “There,” I hear Kristine say satisfactorily, “That looks perfectly hidden!”  Then, her footsteps begin to fade. “NO!  WAIT!  COME BACK!  Please, you have to come back!  I can’t live here like this!  PLEASE!”  I desperately hit the side of my cage — banging on it to call for her return.  My desperate voice echoes around me now that everything’s covered.  I fall to my knees and cringe awfully as pain ricochets up my arms and legs.  Panting in pain and sobbing in desperation, I silently beg someone — anyone — to come find me.  Still, no one does.

[britcision]

Hey, you know what turned out to be super a lot of fun? Writing Mithrun from other peoples’ perspectives.

You know what else is a huge amount of fun? Badass evil ladies 👀 I fucking love Cithis she’s the worst

Will be posting this and other lil ficlets over on AO3! Link is at the bottom, I’m just… drastically failing at “short” so far 😅

(I just have a lot of feelings okay?)

Warnings: some mild dehumanization, because this is Cithis’ POV, and Cithis doesn’t think of others as people

Summary: Dramatic gestures are all well and good, but four in the morning is another matter entirely. Mithrun’s used to one particular person tending to his needs; unfortunately, Cithis values her sleep.

Maybe not quite as much as a chance to finally mess with her captain though. Budding Kabumisu

—————————

After Dinner Mints - Afterthoughts

“Cithis.”

Brows furrowing in irritation, Cithis rolled over, tugging the absolutely tragic excuse for a blanket that the Canaries allowed around her tighter and burrowed in.

“Cithis.”

Her name, again, and she considered folding the pillow over her ears, still hazy with sleep.

“Cithis.”

She was going to kill Fleki. Maybe make Lycion do it. Or Otta, or anyone really, honestly, she just wanted to sleep…

“Cithis.”

But the captain would just stand there all night, saying her name in that damn monotone. Probably had been for a while, before it woke her up. Honestly, she counted herself lucky when he respected her request not to just shake her.

It was inconsiderate, honestly. He’d have to have passed all three of the others to reach her, and casting spells always woke her up. It ruined her chances of getting back to sleep, where as Fleki could pop off any number of minor spells and, as Cithis was painfully aware, be snoring again in moments.

“Cithis.”

Yes, this was Fleki’s fault. And Cithis’s rest would be avenged.

Stifling a sigh, she reached for her bells and rolled over, not surprised to see the captain’s shadowy figure looming over her cot. The soft smile came to her lips without effort; that part had always been easy.

“Do you need another sleeping spell, Captain? Lie down now,” she only half asked, the chant already spilling out before her.

Honestly, she didn’t care if he dropped where he stood. So long as he didn’t fall on her.

“No.”

The magic died before it could form, and Cithis bit back a sharp hiss of irritation.

She hated that limitation, the shackle around her power that put her at the beck and call of these pathetic little wardens. The ones not loved enough by their wealthy and powerful families to keep them from a life of pain and drudgery.

And they still dared think they were better than her. When they hadn’t even earned their place.

Resigning herself to whatever the hell the captain wanted now, she forced herself to sit up, and give him her best “obedient servant” smile. Well, the best she could manage at this ungodly hour.

It wasn’t like the captain cared.

“What, then, Captain?” She asked, taking the time to actually look at him.

He looked… her brows dipped down again, frown crumpling the smile almost at once.

He looked… bad. Captain Mithrun usually did, especially on the days where she or Lycion couldn’t be bothered to make him presentable. But even dishevelled, exhausted, covered in blood, she’d never seen him look like this. It set her on edge.

And it gradually dawned on her that even though by his standards Mithrun was practically well dressed in a sleeping tunic and absolutely no filth… he looked worried.

She’d never seen him worry before.

The petulant pouting, that was nothing new, and frankly quite adorable. Annoyed, bored, satisfied, apathetic, she’d seen a lot on what most insisted was a blank face because they couldn’t be bothered to actually look.

But never this, uncertainty, worry, perhaps even fear writ large on his features and in the twisting of the tunic between his hands.

That couldn’t possibly bode well for her.

Setting her legs off the side of the cot to make a space, she pointed to it firmly, letting a little more command slip into her tone. A soft voice often worked for Mithrun, but when he was recalcitrant sometimes he needed authority.

“Sit.”

He folded immediately, dropping gracelessly to sit beside her on the creaky little cot. He didn’t seem to be injured at least, although he rarely bothered acknowledging it if he was. Better to be sure.

“Do you need a healing spell?” She asked, not bothering to prepare the magic this time. If he did, he could wait. If he didn’t, the less she had to deal with the damn leash the better.

The Captain shook his head, hesitated, and then… sunk in on himself.

Also not good.

Reaching out, Cithis gripped his chin firmly and turned his head to face her.

He looked lost, and while he was usually unfocused if they weren’t on a mission, it was never with this much vulnerability. And while she’d once thought she’d like to see that from him, see him actually begin to care about something, it was unsettling.

Not least because she couldn’t imagine what had caused it.

Humming a short note, she released him and nodded.

“Tell me what you need, Captain,” she urged him gently.

Captain Mithrun opened his mouth. Closed it again. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she’d need to enchant him just to get a fucking answer, he sucked in a sharp breath and spoke.

“I don’t feel anything.”

Taking a breath, Cithis consciously smoothed her frown away this time. Impatience had never moved the captain before, except to raise his own. And she just plain didn’t have the patience to deal with that right now.

“And that’s a problem?” It had never been before, so she was expecting maybe a sharp look, and then some more information.

She wasn’t expecting him to turn to her, his eye wide and empty.

“Yes. I…” he hesitated, looking out past her and to the rest of the tent. Cithis waited about as patiently as she felt capable of for him to find the thought.

Or give up and let her knock him out again.

“I don’t… you said there would be new desires. But there haven’t been in forty years. It takes… so much to keep moving. To eat, to sleep, and I don’t feel anything. I don’t even want to. I don’t even want to lie down and die. There’s just nothing.” He sounded almost calm, with the same lack of inflection, except… he actually sounded tired.

Another new not-improvement.

Cithis was surprised to find she was actually almost sad. In as much as she felt anything for anyone, she rather liked the captain.

He was certainly the best warden she’d ever had, even if she couldn’t just twist him to her needs and leave. Most of the spoiled rich brats the Canaries were saddled with made her sick; born into money and privilege, half of them having the first cold meal of their lives with the force.

Mithrun was… well, at the very least always entertaining, even if it wasn’t the kind of entertainment she preferred. You couldn’t humiliate someone who didn’t feel shame, and she’d only ever had one whim he hadn’t indulged, even though he’d apparently been able to resist any of them at any time.

He was… a broken, damaged thing. Usually Cithis very much enjoyed the act of breaking things herself, but she did know how to take care of what belonged to her.

Captain Mithrun had been given to her, body and soul, and while he wasn’t fit to be a proper plaything he was still very useful. Seeing him fall apart had hurt her more than she’d admit even to herself.

Or maybe it was just knowing that she hadn’t been the one to cause it, or been able to do a damn thing about it. She hated other people taking her things.

She hadn’t been able to pull him out of it, either; hadn’t been able to think of a way to try. Not before that little… ah.

Cithis had always had a gift for spotting a person’s weakness.

Reaching out, she covered the hands still twisting through his sleeping tunic to still them. The question was, if he even knew it.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I don’t see where this is different,” she said carefully, keeping her voice light. By all accounts, the captain couldn’t read other people for shit to spot a lie on his own, but why take the risk? “What has changed to make this a problem?”

And if she was just a little relieved to see a far more familiar look of annoyance flash across his face, he didn’t need to know that either.

“There is nothing I want now. The demon is gone, and I’m not,” he said sharply, and she didn’t bother curbing her smile.

“That was true two days ago, Captain. Yet you got up. What has changed?” She repeated a little more firmly, searching his face intently for any kind of recognition.

Sullenness pulled across his features and he slumped back, folding his arms across his chest.

“Nothing. That is the problem.”

Hiding from her? He’d never hidden before.

Maybe there was something good at the root of this after all, if the captain was going to become more… interesting. She’d not had a new plaything of her own since she’d been given him, or more accurately since she’d realized just how little he actually cared for himself.

And if this surge of passion turned out to be the temporary reprieve and he sank back into motionless, well, she’d just have to enjoy him while she could.

Of course, just giving him the answers wouldn’t be nearly as fun.

Her tiredness wasn’t even feigned as she sighed, slotting her legs back onto the cot behind him and lying down again.

“I’m sorry, Captain, I’m afraid I’m just not sure what you want. Perhaps I’m just too tired… shall we talk more in the morning? When you’ve had more time to gather your thoughts?” She asked sweetly, and yes, there was that irritation again.

That little flash of petulance that only the proximity of a dungeon had dragged out of him before. Honestly, him even taking the initiative to come find her at all was beginning to look like part of a lovely new pattern.

Maybe there was a new desire already forming… at least the desire to have a desire, which she supposed would be a new feeling to almost anyone. Yes, this next part was going to be very entertaining.

A fun little thought occurred to her, and she held the blanket open for him.

“Why don’t you sleep here, Captain? I can cast you another sleeping spell, and then if things are clearer in the morning you can tell me immediately,” she offered with her most innocent, sunny smile.

And if she cast a strong enough spell, he would certainly be asleep past the time his little tallman would come looking for him. And she’d have a lovely front row seat for the show.

The look Captain Mithrun gave her was… honestly, as sceptical as it always was when she put in the effort to be charming with him. He wasn’t a stupid little thing, just incredibly unbothered.

“I don’t always need sleeping spells,” he grumbled to himself, and oh Cithis knew this was going to be fun. He’d never cared about the method of his sleep before.

Still, he obediently lay down beside her, tucked in on his side until they were touching from shoulder to ankles to both fit on the narrow cot. Cithis considered curling a leg around his waist, both for her own comfort and to see what his… Kabru would do.

That could wait for morning.

She did wrap the arm holding her staff around him though, partially for easier spell casting and partially so neither of them fell off the cot. A rare moment of mercy moved her, and she let her lips press gently against the back of his head for a moment, her voice low.

“After all, Captain… tallmen hardly live for any time at all. Even if you never have another desire for as long as he lives, that isn’t so long to wait.”

The captain stiffened in her arms, but didn’t stop her from murmuring the incantantion this time, and with a gentle jingle of her bells he slumped back into sleep.

Making a mental note to find out just how old Kabru was (and how long tallmen actually did live anyway), Cithis settled down and relaxed as much as she could, waiting to join him.

Casting spells always did wake her up, but at least now she had something interesting to occupy her while she settled.

Perhaps Fleki had had a point, and it might be worth being released on the captain’s recognizance, even if he was planning to stay in this backwater country. After all, she was his caretaker. And she’d need a front row seat to whatever disaster Captain Mithrun’s attempts at flirtation were going to be.

She’d have to make sure that Fleki was also released to stay with them, of course. That would be the start of a fitting punishment for her lost sleep.

—————

Watch this space or follow me home via

[delicateartisantrash]

time to continue embarrassing myself with posting my noob voice acting practice because it's gonna serve as my record for looking back on things \o/

Transcript below the cut; playing around with an excerpt from a scene in Leaking Spark. I will learn to voiceact this scary Sparkeater looking mfer

This one originally started just as fucking around to try and figure out settings for setting up some custom voice presets, then I decided to work some narration in to test that out for the audio splicing practice, and then I realized I had cut some of the narration out to shorten my script up for reading said voice acting and forgot to put it back in. lmaaaao. oops. (which I only just realized while posting this, actually, now I know why it felt weird dangit XD oooooops. Missing all the scenery descriptions)

Good thing this one is just a practice not one I meant for the actual recording XD

kinda messy but for a literal first rough draft I like where this is going? :eyes:

I don't quite have his voice right, but it's so fragging close to where I want it.

SCRIPT PRACTICE: “Clarification: yes, as in proceed.” When you don’t immediately speak, he adds, “Re-clarification: deliver queries.” • “Ah, r-right. Um… So-- Sometimes, his, uh… his engine makes these funny noises, and I swear they mean something but he’s dodgy about… Explaining,” you start, the words beginning to come easier the longer you speak. “Is he… Is he okay?” you add, anxious. • “Query: what noises?” • “Sometimes it’s like… mechanical parts are moving in a way they shouldn’t, and jam up. His cooling fans kick on I feel like, a lot? Even when he’s just been parked in place for a while. Other times or at the same time, there’s strange harmonic sounds? Buzzes or tones, or like… Some of them are almost like a-- A soundless sound?” you try helplessly to explain. “I couldn’t possibly describe it to you but I can still hear it, sorta. You make them too, but not nearly so often, and they sound a little different,” you add, almost as an afterthought. • “Request: further describe observed tonal frequencies?” • “I don’t know how better to explain them, sorry. It’s like… Hearing something that’s almost there, but if someone else was talking, I probably wouldn’t hear it? It’s right on the edge of my ability to--” • A soft, tonal harmonic hum suddenly vibrates in the air around and through you, just the softest, faintest pulse. It sounds… nice. It even kind of, weirdly, feels nice, sort of soothing. It’s also fairly familiar. • “Yeah! Like that, except-- different pitches and patterns, but basically that,” you nod. • “...Statement: Anomaly discovered. Detection of Cybertronian bio-frequency signals; not typically displayed by human species.”

[taybatwo2]

Magic Mixling Review: Deerlee!

Guess who got her hands on Deerlee?? I did! I couldn’t find her anywhere in my area, nor any of my neighboring towns. After ordering her twice on Amazon, I finally got her (the first time was another Unia). She was the one I was most excited for too.

Here’s Deerlee with all of my other deer-esque dolls. Monster High Isi Dawndancer, Monster High Gilda Goldstag, Zelfs Talleen (she’s not technically a deer….but I wanted something else in the picture) and Manny the moose Zelf.

Here she is!! She’s super cute. She has a bunch of cute (I think plum) blossoms all over her, including her antlers.

More of her and other deer dolls under the cut!

As with almost all of the Pixlings, she has sculpted clothes (including gloves) and a “swimsuit” with the same theming. The knots on her top/boots/back of gloves remind me of pankou knots (I’m not sure if that intentional or not). It does bother me that her little tail is on the side. I need to make her a little tail like Winter and Unia.

Here are both sides of her shoes (she has hooves sculpted on the front).

The bottom has more plum blossoms, petals, and the Moose Toys logo.

Her hair is super soft by the way. It feels just as soft as the other Pixlings. She also still has some pixelization (but again, it’s not as distracting as Mattel’s printing). Her blushing on her nose and one side of her upper lip is a bit off, but not too bad. She also has a very cute assortment of freckles and petals on her face.

Oh! And her ears are fully sculpted to her head, they’re not separate pieces.

An oddity with Deerlee is her neck peg. It doesn’t seem to have any paint on it and it is very visible when she lifts her neck up.

Let’s briefly compare her to some of her deer attributes to other deer-like dolls (as I don’t own many of these and I do deeper dives into them on my other Pixling posts).

Her and Gilda both have deer-like ears sticking out of the side of their heads, pinkish hair, face spots, and light tan/gold skin (the darker tan on Deerlee is very similar to Gilda’s skin tone). Her antlers are much more like an antelope than those of a deer.

Gilda’s horns have more in common with Enchantimals: Gabriela Gazelle’s.

Let’s compare her to someone who has more deer features: Isi Dawndancer.

Isi actually doesn’t have attached antlers, and her ears are placed higher on her head; she does have lots of freckles/spots on her face though. To make up for the lack of antlers, she has some of the COOLEST FEET EVER! Take a look Deerlee!

Cute little hoofies!!! She’s actually the only one of these bipedal deer dolls that (were created) to have hoof feet.

Monster High had another deer-like character: Fawn, but she never received a doll. She has deer ears on the side of her head, no antlers, face freckles and she has HOOF FINGERS!!

Ever After High’s Dragon Games’ Deerla (a smaller pixie doll, ancestor to their Enchantimals’ line) has similar design elements to Isi, Fawn, and Deerlee:

Her skin tone looks very close to Fawn’s, she has freckles, and deer ears on top of her head (like Isi’s).

-I still can’t get over the two pairs of ears design choice-

……her antlers look really odd, like they have a main antler shape in there, but they added a bunch of random swirls to them as an afterthought.

Deerla passed down her golden ears, antlers and second pair of ears to her Enchantimal cousins.

Danessa Deer is one of the main cast of Enchantimals. She is about the height of Deerlee, has a similar skin tone to Isi, and once again has freckles.

Danetta Deer (-they seriously just took the two ‘s’s in her name and changed them to the next letter in the alphabet-) is on a much smaller Enchantimal body and basically looks like a smaller version of Danessa with a cuter face (in my humble opinion).

Rainey Reindeer has some impressive looking antlers. She has the lightest of freckles and she looks close to Deerlee’s skin complexion. Honestly, one of the cuter Enchantimals (maybe because her ponytail hides her human looking ears).

Nope, I lied. Queen Delilah has the most impressive looking set of antlers sculpted onto her head (for the Enchantimal line anyways). -someday she will be mine- She is eight inches tall. A tiny bit shorter than the Ever After High Pixies which were 8.5 inches tall, but she has more articulation: her knees! Not even Deerlee has that!

She looks to be the same color as Rainey and parts of Deerlee. Of course she has the freckles too.

The last Mattel line I’m going to look at are the Monster High Frightmares. Specifically the two “deer” looking frightmares: Fawntime Fallowheart and Meadoe Flurry. -two more deer dolls I desperate wanted but never bothered to buy when I had the chance!!-

They are 6 inches tall, have molded on clothing and down turned ears just like Deerlee! Their arm articulation is pretty limited, but they could move at the hip and neck. They have the cutest little molded deer tails!! And their bodies are giving me nostalgia for my G2 My Little Ponies. I think only Fawntime has freckles (and some unique branch eyebrows) and Meadoe has only powdered lavender/ periwinkle skin tone so far (and the most badass looking fantasy antlers). Okay! Onto MGA’s deer doll offerings.

-my holy grail- Novi Star’s Doe A. Deer! She has flocked legs (and I thiiiiink that’s all…which is a choice).

Her body is mostly white and her dress looks like something Fawntime would like to graze on, she doesn’t have any freckles (just some dot eyebrows, Gilda would be pleased), I don’t believe she has a tail, her ears look to be the same, but her antlers are wonderfully large.

Na! Na! Na! Surprise had a female and a male deer doll: Myra Woods and Donnie Ranger.

Both have the littlest of freckles, super detailed clothes (seriously, Donnie’s look amazing) and plastic horns stuck to their hats (both seem to be new sculpts too). For some reason, Myra’s sleeping bag’s antlers are set under her ears.

Okay! Onto another Moose toy!!! Zelfs!!! I have already said how much I love posing my pixlings with my Zelfs, but they are so cute together. Deerlee seems to like gossiping with Talleen and Manny.

Both of them have ears stuck to the tops of their head like Isi and the Enchantimals. There were two more deer themed Zelfs: Dorthy-doe (who looks a bit more like a pink Jack-a-lope than a deer) and another reindeer to join the herd: Rein-Doe. Both lack face spots and have different horns than Deerlee (although Rein-doe looks very similar - he even seems to have a flower theme too).

I had wanted to compare her with one of my Zelfs that had downturned ears (as what hers immediately reminded me of). Hmm, it actually looks like the Zelfs (this is Flitter by the way) had a little indent in there and Deerlee had thicker chunkier ears.

Anyways, not as deep as I usually go for over-views on dolls, but I’ll take some more photos of her after I give her a proper tail and paint some of the detail on her shirt and gloves. Did you guys have a favorite deer themed doll? Any of these on your want list? Did I miss any play line deer dolls?? She was super cute, and while I would still love for the line to give us knee articulation, more dolls with fully removable clothing, and the option to buy the dolls without the potion bottles (which are fun, but I am not going to be playing with them again). I look forward to trying to find the dragon and the fairy pixlings.

[heyclickadee]

Yeah, okay, here goes:

I think some fandom infighting would be less toxic if we a really understood that all of us are here for different reasons.

And I don’t just mean that different kinds of stories are going to be helpful for some and hurtful for others and vis-a-versa, or that different people are going to tell different stories, you know, differently, and that should do our best to let people enjoy things. I mean that, at the end of the day, there’s a spectrum of the parts of fandom people enjoy.

For example, I have a sibling who’s in some fandoms strictly for the transformative aspect of fandom. Canon is more like a jumping off point and, to some extent, an afterthought. Their primary interaction with whatever a fandom is centered on might be fanfiction and other fan works. The characters and world they interact with in those fandoms are often completely unrecognizable from canon. The goal is often to create characters—self-inserts or otherwise—to exist in completely new stories that are (vaguely) informed by canon, but not beholden to it in any way. Most everyone in that fandom has a self-insert OC or a Y/N. The whole point is taking something you like, or wanted to like, and shaping it to fit you better. That’s fandom for them. And that’s great!

And then there’s me, who’s almost the exact opposite. Canon is more of a focal point. I love seeing fanfiction and fanworks that completely veer away from canon events and characterization, I appreciate them, but I don’t like making them myself. I love to write, but I have a hard time writing fanfiction, I couldn’t write a fic-it-fix to save my life (no, not even in the highly unlikely hypothetical scenario where it turns out a lot of us are wrong and Tech is dead for real). The closest I get to fanfiction are either short little half analysis/half story blurb posts, or doodley fanart that’s either a theory for something I think could happen in the future in disguise, or silly drawings about scarves. I compartmentalize fanon, my headcanons, and actual canon a lot. And I love seeing people’s OC’s, including the self-insert ones, but I dont want to make one myself. I don’t want to be in the story, because it isn’t about me; one of the things I love most about interacting with fiction I didn’t write is that it helps me get outside my own head and see things from a different point of view. I write a lot of metas and theories, but my favorite thing is being able to look a story that’s completely told and done, and getting to tease it apart. And that’s also okay.

Now, the two points I’m using as examples aren’t really opposites; there’s a ton (A TON) of very good character analysis and interpretation in fanfiction, and there’s often (maybe even usually) transformative aspect to analysis/intepretation. And I’m betting that most people in fandom fall somewhere in the middle of the range between transformative and interpretive when it comes to what they like about fandom. A lot of people write great fanfiction and equally great meta posts, and honestly, I think being good at the one makes you better than the other. But they are different approaches to enjoying and interacting with fiction, and I think at least a little of the friction in fandom can come from not recognizing that we all often have different approaches to this fandom thing.

Edit: I need to also mention that when it comes to interpretation and analysis, there’s a lot of wiggle room for contradictory conclusions that are all equally valid. Do I think that interpretive conclusions not supported at all by the text exist? Oh boy howdy, yes. But I also think there’s a lot of space before you get there, and a lot of ways for even one person to interpret the same thing, let alone an entire fandom.

Edit 02; I should probably also acknowledge that, as a lifelong Darkwing Duck fan, I also really enjoy shows or even books where ‘canon’ is more like a loose set of guidelines or a basis premise and the whole idea of the show is to do wacky things with that premise. I’m way more likely to get involved in the transformative side of things when this is the case.