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#no hate to bullrings
starlooove · 7 months
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And the bull ring bro which cracker or coon drew this.
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wandaluvstacos · 6 months
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dragon saddle design
i hate that people don't think deeply about dragon saddles cuz I certainly have. I hate that people are like "oh you just put a horse saddle on a dragon." WRONG. A horse cannot fly at 2000 feet in the sky, fly vertically down or up, or do a barrel roll. If they do, you're dead. like damn my horse stepped in a hole at a walk and I fell off, and that was only a fall of about 5 feet. A dragon saddle needs to look more like a roller coaster ride harness. These things are actually designed to keep you on no matter what.
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I know people like the look of horse saddles but this shit will get you murdered instantly
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at least this saddle kinda makes it hard to fall off backwards or forwards
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Personally if I were designing one, the key features would be:
Laying down design: The wind you'll get at cruising heights when you're sitting up will be significant and uncomfortable. Also, if you're riding that thing for hours, it makes sense to lay down cuz you can also take a nap (if you don't need to be steering). Also, it's much easier to stay on a wobbling monster in the sky when you're laying down on your stomach than if you're sitting straight. ALSO, if the dragon is not horse-sized, you cannot straddle it unless you know how to do the splits.
Like when I saw this I thought: oh you are falling off IMMEDIATELY
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2. YOU NEED TO BELTED THE FUCK IN. I'm talking straps, straps, and more straps. Failsafes for your failsafes. Think of rockclimbing harnesses. Shit that will keep you on that dragon no matter what.
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3. Something rigid to brace against. For this I think of how side saddles work, in that you've got two cups for your thighs for support.
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I'm thinking something like this, but something you can wedge yourself under so that when your dragon does a barrell roll, you aren't getting thrown around. Again, think of how the bars work on a roller coaster.
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I think it's worth considering how the saddle is connected to the dragon. It takes significant strength to buckle a girth on a horse. Dragons are much bigger than horses, so to buckle a girth even three times the size of one on a horse would be a huge chore. You also need more failsafes. Girths come loose on horses sometimes. This is something you DON'T want happening in the sky. I'm thinking multiple straps with multiple smaller buckles, as well as a second harness that attaches you to the actual dragon and not the saddle.
Lastly, I do see bits used on dragons and I think it's a bad idea. Bits only work on horses because they have a huge gap between their molars and front teeth, and nothing is sharp. This wouldn't work on a dog, cat, or anything that has a consistent row of teeth. They'd end up just constantly biting the metal. Also, dragons spit fire! That bit would get melted so fast!
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I think a much better idea is to use a bullring.
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These are a rather quick installation on a young calf, and because they work on sensitive, soft tissues, they're much more responsive than trying to steer via the horns or neck or face. If you've got a 3000 lb dragon, there's NO FUCKING WAY you are controlling that thing with a regular halter and reins unless you've got a mindlink or something. A bullring takes care of that issues, and they look bad ass anyway.
Also, I know this is AI garbage but anything that requires you to sit IN FRONT of the wings is just... not going to work lol. No one rides a horse on top of their shoulders. You ride behind the shoulder for a reason (so you don't immediately fall over their head every time they stop)
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years
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Broken Wings || Pt.5
Sam Wilson x OFC Ada Marks
Summary: A 6-8 part mini series following OC Ada Marks as she rekindles a relationship with Sam but can they really get past their long history for a fresh start or is it better to just let go. Set after FATWS with Bucky and Sam being friends. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, violence, warfare, sexual themes. || Series Masterlist || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 ||
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Afghanistan, 2013
“I don’t like this,” I said for the third time as Sam and Riley worked quickly to pack up the camp we had set up. “We should go together.”
Riley sighed to himself but wouldn’t say anything because it wasn’t in his nature to go against an order despite hating when we were separated too. “How long until they get here?” 
“Chopper will be here in an hour,” Sam said as he sat on my rucksack so I could zip the overfull bag closed. “You and I fly in at 2300.”
“What about me?” I rose with my hands on my hips.
“We have been over this babe, two of us going in is already a risk,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ll be on standby, Ada.”
I wasn’t happy with the strategy but arguing would get me nowhere, but I would damn well make sure I was ready and waiting should one of them need me. 
I rolled up my mattress and tied it up with twine before tossing it out of the tent and onto the growing pile of belongings. My uniform was the only thing left unpacked but I wouldn’t change into it until the tent was dismantled. Taking it down would break a sweat and the last thing I wanted was to sit in damp clothes on an hour long flight back to base. 
“Incoming,” Riley announced as he heard the chopper blades while we were rolling the last of the canvas tent up tight. 
We quickly shoved the tent into its travel sack and covered our eyes as our transport arrived, kicking up dust in its wake. Two fairly new soldiers jumped out and helped us pack the chopper with our bags before we strapped in and we were off. The desert terrain fell away as we climbed higher and higher and the peace I had felt camping with my boyfriends fell away with it. 
“We’re home,” Riley said as he shook my shoulder and woke me up. 
I rubbed my eyes and tried to lift my head off Sam’s shoulder but his head was heavy on top of mine and I nudged his side so he would wake up. He lifted his head and looked around, forgetting for a moment where we were before stretching and waiting for the skids to touch down.
“58th in the house!” A loud voice called out over the sounds of the engine turning off and we all smiled at the 48th Rescue Squadron leader. 
“You know how it is, Fischer, call in the big guns when shit gets real,” Sam joked as he pulled him into a hug and clapped each other on the back.
“Only until they share your tech with the rest of us,” Staff Sergeant Ian Fischer retorted with a laugh. “Go on, everyone’s in the bullring.”
I gave Ian a hug and Riley shook his hand as we walked past on our way to the building that Sam was already disappearing into. Riley slung his arm over my shoulder as he caught up and I felt the pre-mission jitters and excitement begin to build. I had no idea that just 12 hours later my world would come crashing down.
“Alright, Falcon and Eagle, you have Starling for backup but we want to get in and out under the radar so the less Exo-7s out and about the better.” 
We all nodded as we stepped into the straps of our suits and began the quite lengthy task of securing our jet propulsion wings to our backs. We checked each other’s buckles to make sure they were snug before stepping out into the cool evening air. I pushed my ear comms deeper into my ear to make sure it wouldn’t fall loose when I flew and checked that everyone could hear each other as well as command central. 
We reached the clearing where our take off point was and I stood between Sam and Riley, holding one of their hands each in mine. We had seven years of pararescue missions under our belts, four of those with the Exo-7 wings. It still never made this moment any easier. 
“These things we do,” Sam said as he squeezed my hand.
“So others may live,” Riley followed.
“58th until the end.” 
We never said I love you. We never said goodbye. It was an unspoken rule that had never been broken. We stepped away from each other and expanded our wings before engaging the jets and taking to the skies. Two yellow dots were blipping in my helmet and those would be the two lights that guided me home, Falcon and Eagle. 
"The target is 8.6 miles northeast of Dabay. Uploading coordinates now,” Air command notified us through our comms before a red dot was added to the map in my helmet. 
"Eagle, take the right flank. Starling, stay out of range behind us."
We followed Sam's direction and I broke away as we reached the mountains that crashed steeply into the valley where Khandil was in hiding. I watched as Riley barrel rolled to the right and they both dove down into the dark depths and out of my sight. The air was still as I hovered in place ready for any sign of trouble but there didn't seem to be any. I was beginning to think the intel was wrong as their positioning beacons showed they had landed in the enemies territory unscathed. 
Suddenly machine guns fired in rapid succession and I heard Sam call out to Riley as he located Khandil. Their beacons moved hastily around my helmet as they manoeuvred their way about of the valley they were trapped in and Sam confirmed he had Khandil in his custody. Unable to remain in position any longer, I set my thrusters to full speed and raced over the terrain to reach Sam and Riley. 
Bullets hit my wings as I swooped at the insurgents and took some of the heat away from my men before I saw an alert for a missile heading straight for me and I tucked my wings in close, dropping from the sky. I felt the heat of the explosion above me and looked up to find Riley had protected me from the shrapnel and other projectiles. Opening my wings wide I blew a thank you kiss to Riley before heading back to Sam.
"Starling, get out of here," Sam called out as I reached him. "Eagle, let's go!"
We both looked back as we banked sharply to avoid an RPG heading towards us and I turned to see another RPG coming from behind.
“RILEY!”
Time slowed as the horror unfolded before our eyes. He had a 50/50 chance of banking left or right to dodge the RPG that passed us but he chose wrong. His right wing curled in and he turned right into the second RPG that was coming up behind him. Fire and flames engulfed him and there was nothing that I could do as he disappeared in the explosion. 
Fury flooded me as I looked down at the men scattered around the valley walls, from here they looked like ants and those ants took Riley from me. Sam was calling out to me, ordering me to leave but I couldn’t just let them get away with what they did. I pulled the comms piece out of my ear and dropped it as I tucked my wings in and plummeted from the sky. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The drive from York to Washington DC was quiet. The only voice that broke the silence was Riley as he pressed his nose to the window and watched the scenery pass us by, questions flowing from his lips quicker than the water of the Potomac River Sam drove along. Trying to ask him to have quiet time was futile and I had given up by the time we crossed that state line into Maryland, opting to try to sleep instead.
“Mr Wilson?” Riley asked as he leant into the middle of the seat and found Sam looking at him in the small mirror.
“Come on little man, call me Sam.” He smiled. “What’s up?”
“What was my dad like?” 
I fought the urge to open my eyes and kept my head on my rolled up hoodie that was doubling as a pillow for the drive. 
“Shouldn’t you be asking your mom about him?” Sam was obviously uncomfortable with the question and you heard the leather seats creak with his shuffle of movements.
“I think it makes her sad when I ask.” 
Sam’s sigh was barely audible but you knew he did it. “He was brave and kind and always put everyone else first. He was like you, protective of your mom.”
Riley chewed his lip and returned to looking out his window before gasping with fright. I bolted upright and leant across the seat to look out his window and spotted a man flying towards us with a rudimentary version of a wingsuit. 
Grabbing Riley, I tucked him under my arms and slipped a pair of control gloves over my hands to activate my wingsuit that was in the cargo hold.
“We’ve got company,” I growled as I noticed another man out my window and grabbed my son’s face. “Stay low, Ry. Hear me? Just stay low.”
“Ada, what are you-”
I pinned Sam with a stare through the rearview mirror and interrupted him, “What I have to, get Riley out of here.” 
Wind whipped around the car as I opened the door and dove out, Riley and Sam’s shouts sounding behind me. The back of the car exploded as my wingsuit tore through the metal and erupted out of it before they slammed into my back and saved me from hitting the asphalt road. 
The thruster kicked in almost immediately and I was thrown forward with the power much stronger than the previous marks had been able to pull. I almost screamed in exhilaration but it was the fear of my son that kept me focused on the two targets I had my eyes on.
It was mere seconds later that I was swooping past the car and the men with the inferior suits were too slow to avoid my sharp blades that slashed through their own wings before they could draw their weapons. One crashed heavily into the highway and came to a rest unmoving but the other managed to crash into the grass verge and lifted his weapon towards Sam’s car, at my son. 
I could never make it there in time but my wingsuit could. There was no time to think about myself as I flicked my wrist and fell from the sky as my suit disappeared from my back. A scream of pain tore from my lips as I landed badly on my already sore leg, my skin shredding along the road as I rolled but it was all secondary to the relief I felt as the wings wrapped around the back of the car, protecting its occupants from the bullets. 
The harsh sound of metal dragging across the ground had me look away from where Riley was safe and I found the man who had attacked up aiming his gun at me. It wasn’t the first time I had stared down a barrel but it was not something that ever got any easier and I felt the blood rushing in my ears as my heart raced. I didn’t want to die but I couldn’t risk bringing the wingsuit back and leaving Riley unprotected, he was my world. 
“My boss wants you alive so he can kill you himself,” the man spoke in Pashto. 
“Khandil can kiss my ass,” I spat back and jutted my chin to the road behind him. “If he wants me, he’s going to have to go through that.”
The man’s eyes widened as he looked over his shoulder and saw Sam throw his vibranium shield. The metal crashed into his back, breaking the wingsuit he wore and throwing him off balance and off aim, right into my fist that rendered him an unconscious mess on the asphalt. 
“I told you to look after Riley!”
“I wasn’t going to leave you, again,” Sam said as his voice broke and he scooped me up as gently as he could. There was no stopping the memories that assaulted me as I inhaled the woody scent of his cologne and my head found its way into the curve where his strong shoulders met his neck. It was a place that always felt like home, and it still did.
“You really outdid yourself,” he said with a rather disbelieving chuckle as he reached the car and you closed the wingsuit up with a swish of your hand. “It’s like you’re trying to one up me.”
I barked a laugh as he slipped me onto the backseat beside a worried Riley who I immediately wrapped in my arms as I cocked an eyebrow at Sam. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? Nothing can outdo that costume of yours.”
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harrison-abbott · 1 year
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They had the supply teacher come in. Other teacher had bailed, again, with some phoney excuse of the flu.
The supply teacher had no clue what was coming to her and she was this sanguine moral young woman from outside of the city, who didn’t understand why things like rape and homicide occurred across the globe every single day.
Folks hate weakness. She was weak in a kind way, the way most people despise kindness unless they need it themselves. How people detest charity.
When she taught the lesson they ripped her apart. Bullring. Colosseum. Any other gladiatorial combat. It changed her inner thinking.
Forgiveness can be a snarly medicine. Stings the tonsils. An ugly potion that you have to keep taking in order to survive.
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thegettingbyp2 · 2 years
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I think the secret ways of communicating will be great !!!!!!
Secret Language
Johnny Knoxville x reader
Buy me a coffee :)
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It wasn’t long into my relationship with Johnny that we learnt the other guys from Jackass would mercilessly tease us for the smallest things. Johnny would tell me he loves me and we wouldn’t hear the end of it from Steve-O for days and as soon as he’d get over it, either me or Johnny would say something else and the cycle would start again. Because of this, over the past few months, me and Johnny had come up with gestures so we could communicate with each other without the guys noticing.
Tugging on his shirt
Whenever Johnny did a particularly dangerous stunt (i.e something to do with bulls) I would worry even more than usual. I’d stay by his side all day, most of the time, holding his hand or his arm until it was time for him to go and get changed ready to film. Even then, as soon as he’d come back, I’d hold onto him until he had to enter the bullring.
One time, the bull seemed angrier than usual, making me panic even more. I was clinging to Johnny so hard, I’m surprised my nails didn’t pierce his skin underneath his clothes.
‘Hey, I’m going to be okay,’ he said, turning and bending his knees slightly until he reached my eye level, not moving his arm from my grip.
‘I know, just be careful, I kind of need you in one piece you know.’
He chuckled softly and kissed me gently, making the guys behind us yell, Johnny sticking his middle finger up at them all behind his back. When he pulled away, he started heading over to the bull ring and I felt his arm sliding out of my grasp. Without thinking, I grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged on it lightly, trying to prolong contact with him. He turned around when he felt the tug, eyes softening when he saw how worried I was. Before I had the chance to tell him I loved him, he met my eyes.
‘Me too,’ he said simply as he walked into the bullring.
The stunt ended badly. Instead of just having to go to the medical trailer, a stretcher had to be brought into the bull ring so they could lift Johnny into the back of the ambulance. He was pretty out of it, not fully remembering what happened. As I was following him into the ambulance, his hand came out to lightly tug on the hem of my top. I looked into his eyes and they said everything he wanted to say with that single tug.
‘Me too,’ I said, taking his hand in mine.
Poke in the side
It was the end of the day and I was exhausted. Steve-O, Pontius and Ehren had spent all day trying to catch me out in different pranks resulting in me spending the whole day on edge and looking over my shoulder. I was so on edge that Johnny made me jump when he came into our trailer on the lunch break. I’ve always been a good target simply for how easy it is to make me jump. Before we got together, Johnny would constantly think of new ways to make me jump and while part of me hated it, the bigger part of me just fell in love with him more.
I’d gathered mine and Johnny’s things from the trailer, ready to head home when I was ambushed by the three boys who’d set my nerves on edge for the day, double checking that everything was okay and that they didn’t take it too far.
‘You’re fine,’ I laughed, ‘it kind of comes with being on set here, never let yourself relax. Though this does mean that tomorrow it’s my turn on all of you lot so watch your backs.’
I’d done exactly what I said not to do; I had let myself relax because it was the end of the day, the cameras had all been turned off and put away so there was no point in pranking anyone because we wouldn’t get any footage of it. As I was talking to the guys, I hadn’t noticed Johnny walking up behind me so when he poked me in the side, it made me jump making me scream. All of the guys started laughing hysterically, Johnny’s laugh being the loudest of them all as he ended up on the floor, unable to support himself while he laughed.
‘Sorry doll,’ he said as his laughs started to slow down and he got back up, both of his hands coming to my waist as he stood behind me, ‘ready to go.’ His words were coming out stunted as he was trying not to laugh as he spoke.
‘Get me out of here,’ I replied, laughing as we walked over to our car.
Ever since that incident, if one of us was ready to go home, we’d simply poke each other in the side, knowing that the other would understand.
Head roll
This came about while we were filming Jackass 3D. Johnny was involved in a stunt where he was going to get full body tackled by a big American football star. Steve-O had approached me earlier that day and said that he wanted the hit to come as a surprise to him so he wouldn’t be able to brace himself for impact. As soon as he said that, an idea formed in my head.
‘Hello, I’m Johnny Knoxville and this is,’
Johnny’s speech was cut off as I walked onto the football field, hair in bunches, a crop top and short skirt with “Knoxville” written on my cheeks. Johnny’s face had gone blank as he took in my appearance, eyeing me up and down.
‘Doll, you look,’
Before he could finish he was tackled from the side and brutally hit the ground. Everyone was silent until he let out a small groan which told us he was okay and that was everyone’s cue to laugh.
After he’d been checked out and cleared by the medics, we were all sitting around whilst the next stunt was being set up. I was sitting between Steve-O and Preston, Johnny opposite me. I could feel Johnny’s stare directed at me as I was still wearing my cheerleading get-up and I turned me head to look over at Johnny.
His eyes were dark as he watched me, clearly turned on. I raised my eyebrow at him, letting him know he had my attention. He held my gaze for a few moments before slowly rolling his head towards our shared dressing room and moving his eyes back to mine. He watched me intently as I stood up and excused myself, walking towards my dressing room, Johnny following shortly after.
‘Got to say doll, you wearing my name, I’m a fan,’ he mumbled in my ear before throwing me over his shoulder, making me laugh as he carried me into the dressing room.
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sadistgalore · 3 years
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Hello! I’m really invested in your Killian drabbles, and I was wondering if you could write a little continuation to the piercing drabble you wrote? I was wondering what Harper or Killian’s reaction would be seeing what Luther did.
oh i'm so happy you enjoyed it! this just made me so happy cause this is the reason i write on tumblr- so people can just send random asks or questions and it gives me free writing fuel. so thank you so so so much and i will absolutely write this for you!
Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake, @all-whumped-out, @distinctlywhumpthing, @painsandconfusion
CW: implied beating, referenced forced piercing, vaguely implied noncon, dehumanization, pissed off whumpee, creepy/intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, breaking down
In reference to this piece.
--
Harper was carding her fingers through Killian's dirty blonde hair, gently untangling any knots present. Their masters were out for the night, leaving the two of them alone chained up in the holding room. The boy's head was in her lap, trying to rest after a brutal beating from Luther.
Harper decided to break the silence. "Did you have these piercings before?" She asked in a small voice, her thumb resting over his emerald piercing in his left ear. "They're very pretty."
Killian's eyes went dark. "No, I hate them. Luther wanted his toy to be decorated on day, so I got stabbed with metal."
Oh, that'll look lovely on him.
Harper stilled, regretting her question now as she felt Killian beneath her tense. His piercings were very noticeable, especially the one between his nostrils. She knew there was one on his tongue, too, but she never pieced together how this might've been Luther's whole "act" for him.
"Thing is, I actually kind of like them," he let out a dry chuckle, eyes closing in pain as he positioned himself so he was staring at Harper. "The bullring looks badass, don't you think?"
Harper stared back at him, unsure of how to respond. "Looks fine."
"Just 'fine'?" Killian asked. "I was strapped down and took four piercings at once, I would hope they looked pretty damn good."
Fuck. Harper should've never brought this up. Trying to do damage control, she tried to say, "No, they look-"
"I had a fucking ring gag in my mouth because he knew I would try to bite down when my tongue was pierced. I almost pissed myself because of my fear of needles, but he didn't care. My tongue was so sore that I starved for four days until I could eat without pain again."
Tongue hurt, mutt? Guess no food for you then.
Harper's eyes were wide. "Killian-"
The boy stood up, ignoring the pain that radiated in his ribs when he did so. "I got so many compliments, too. All of his friends loved my pretty piercings. Telling me I must make my master pleased with the tongue piercing every time I take him down my throat. Luther loved that fucking attention, and got more on my ears and lips. Even threatened to pierce my fucking nipples."
I think you have enough on your ears pet, how about some other places?
Harper stood up too, trying to put a hand on his shoulder. "Killian, I'm sorry-"
"And they just look 'fine' to you?!" He suddenly yelled, causing Harper to flinch back. "That man has ruined my body, and this isn't the fucking worst of it. I endured so much pain for his pleasure, pain I didn't even ask for. I-"
No more piercings. Please, sir-
Your body isn't your anymore, Killian.
It was then that he broke down crying, tears running down his face before his hands flew up to cover them. Harper teared up, too, moving towards him to pull him into a hug.
"I-" he started, hands tightly gripping the back of Harper's dress. "I trusted him. All those fucking years ago, I trusted him. But he n-never cared about me. Not on-once."
Harper's fingers returned to his hair, understanding his pain; but she could never relate. At least Dark, in some sick and perverted way, cared about her. He cuddled with her and gave her gifts, while Luther just hurt Killian for no reason.
"My body is ruined," he whispered in her ear. "Forever."
"No," Harper said, moving back so her hands could cup his face. "He didn't ruin you, you're still beautiful, Ian."
You're so beautiful, pet.
Killian just stared ahead, knowing that no matter what his friend said, his boys will forever be the product of Luther's desires.
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I made this cause I didn’t wanna see the tag so spoiler-y I hate it right now.
Anyways, this is a map (I know, my Paint skills are amazing) of where in Madrid each of the character lives. I’ll go into detail of the hints that point to each location and also some info about the area down below. Before starting, though, here’s a post I made about Madrid districts if you want to learn more about it :)
High School: The High School is a real high school (IES Isabel La Católica) located right south of the Retiro Park, the green thumb of Madrid (think of it like our Central Park, Casa de Campo is a bigger park, but it’s less urbanized and it’s not in the city center) I actually intended to visit the High School when I went to the Retiro Park last year, but I got too scared and chickened out lol. The High School is also really close to Atocha Station, the biggest and busiest train and metro station of Madrid. 
Amiris: Amira and Cris both live by the Parque de las Avenidas metro station (Line 7), they have shown it in various clips, both in Cris and Amira’s seasons. It is located in the neighbourhood of La Guindalera, within Salamanca district. Salamanca is the wealthiest district in all of Madrid, and in La Guindalera you can find the largest bullring in all of Spain, Las Ventas, which really makes sense seeing how Cris parents are. 
Nora: The first episode of s3 showed us that Nora lived near the Arturo Soria metro station (Line 4) and a look at the map shows a lot of individual houses there, which matches Nora’s house. It is located in Ciudad Lineal district, which was supposed to be a planned city conceived by the architect Arturo Soria, that only was half complete and annexed by Madrid. It’s a kinda wealthy area, I mean, it’s not that easy to buy individual houses in the middle of Madrid.
Eva, Jorge, and possibly Lucas: Okay, this one drove me nuts, but I think they live close to Pinar de Chamartín station (Lines 1 and 4, and Line ML1 of the Light Rail), cause there’s a clip where the three of them are waiting for the Light Rail there. They probably either live up north, in Sanchinarro, or just by there, in Costillares, part of Ciudad Lineal. I’m not sure about Sanchinarro though, cause there’s no individual houses in there, and Eva lives in a house, not in a flat. Sanchinarro is a new wealthy neighbourhood, and Costillares is just part of the Arturo Soria general area.
Viri: Again, the first episode of s3 also showed us where did Viri lives, in Puente de Vallecas station (Line 1), which makes sense, cause Puente de Vallecas is one of the poorest districts of Madrid. Along with Villa de Vallecas, they form the historical town of Vallecas, and people from here are really proud, they have a great sense of community, and love their local football team, the Rayo Vallecano.
Miquel: We saw his adress in one of the clips, and he lives right next to the Plaza Mayor, right in the city center. I don’t know how he can afford that, as renting a place in the central district of Madrid nowadays is nearly impossible. Not much to say about this, only that the most emblematic sights of Madrid are all located in this area.
Hugo?: We only know about him that he lives in the opposite direction to Viri’s house, from what we saw in one of the Viri clips from season 3, so, seeing Line 1, which is the largest and oldest in Madrid, I would say he either lives in the center or maybe around the Chamberí area?? Just a hunch.
Alejandro?: We’ve actually seen Alejandro’s area in one of the clips in season 4, but no name. They reminded me a bit of where I live, so I would say he lives close, in the west of Madrid, maybe in Aravaca or even Pozuelo de Alarcón, the wealthiest town in all of Spain. Aravaca is also one of the wealthiests part of Madrid, so it would make sense for Alejandro to live here.
Finally, I think Joana could live in the center for what we could see of her house, it seemed old and spacious, that’s why. We’ll maybe learn a bit more about that in her extra clips! And about Kasim and Dounia, I would say maybe they live in Lavapiés judging by one of the pics Kasim has on instagram, that was taken there. It would make sense, as Lavapiés is the multicultural hub of Madrid. I’m sure even if they don’t live here we’ll see some shots in Lavapiés during this season.
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Fourth up on @monotonous-minutia’s list of five: Carmen, Act II, 35 lines!
Carmen: The Romani songs and dances are the best tralalala I’ll tell you all about ‘em tralalala
Zuniga: Hey, Carmen, you know that soldier you got arrested? He’s free now.
Carmen: Good for him. And good for me too. Goodnight, you handsome you.
Chorus: ALL HAIL ESCAMILLO THE GREATEST TOREADOR EVER
Escamillo: BULLFIGHTING IS AWESOME AND I’LL TELL YOU ALL ABOUT IT TO ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS MELODIES IN ALL OPERA BECAUSE I’M JUST THAT COOL
Escamillo: Heeeeeeeyyyyyyy pretty lady what’s your name??? I wanna scream it in the bullring when danger is happening and the adrenaline hormones are up, if you know what I mean...
Carmen: Even though a) I’m not interested in you right now and b) that is probably the worst pickup line I’ve heard this week (which says a lot), my name is Carmen and my friends call me Carmencita.
*Dancaïre and Remendado enter. Zuniga leaves.*
Dancaïre and Remendado: Hey ladies, who’s up for some smuggling work?
Frasquita and Mercédès: First, is it good smuggling work?
Dancaïre and Remendado: Oh yeah! You ladies will be crucial to our efforts, and we’re leaving tonight!
Frasquita and Mercédès: WE’RE IN
Carmen: ...And unfortunately, I’m out. I’m waiting for a dumb soldier boy I love.
Dancaïre and Remendado: Are you sure he’ll even come?
*Don José enters singing some song about the dragoons of Alcala. Meanwhile, my phone is attempting to correct dragoons to dragons, which sounds way cooler. Alas, this is not an opera about dragons.*
Don José: MY BELOVED CARMEN I AM FREE AFTER TWO MONTHS IN PRISON WHICH IS NICE BUT I’D SPEND MY WHOLE LIFE IN PRISON FOR YOU BECAUSE TENOR LOGIC
Carmen: I love you but I also have an odd thing where I like to make men jealous and see how they react so I’m going to tell you that the officers were here earlier and I danced for them!
Don José: I AM SO JEALOUS DANCE FOR ME CARMEN
Carmen: Lalalalala here’s a little dance lalalalala
Don José: Yo, Carmen, I’m happy for you and Imma let you finish, but...the retreat is sounding and I have to go back to the barracks!
Carmen: One, that’s lame. Two, dancing without background music kinda sucks tbh. Three, that’s not even how the meme goes-
Don José: BUT I HAVE TO GET BACK FOR ROLL CALL
Carmen: And to think, I thought you loved me and I loved you! Fine, go away! Go back to the barracks! But don’t come back crying to me because I’ll have moved on!
Don José: BUT I DO LOVE YOU
Carmen: lalalala I can’t hear you lalalala
Don José: LISTEN TO ME so I kept that flower you threw me and I kept smelling it and picturing you and then I went through this weird period where I just cursed and hated you all the time but then I just started wanting to see you and that’s all I LOVE YOU AND I’M A SLAAAAAAAVE FOR YOU
Carmen: If you loved me you would follow me anywhere- even into the mountains!
Don José: NOOOOOOOOOOOO NOT THE MOUNTAINS
Carmen: But you can be free there! Freedom is the most wonderful thing in the world!
Don José: BUT DESERTING WOULD BE SHAMEFUL
Carmen: FINE THEN GO AND NEVER SEE ME AGAIN
*Zuniga comes back.*
Zuniga: oh hey Carmen I hope I didn’t interrupt anything JOSÉ GET YOUR BUTT BACK TO THE BARRACKS
Don José: NO I’LL PUNCH YOU INSTEAD BECAUSE THAT’S CLEARLY THE LOGICAL THING TO DO IN THIS SITUATION
Zuniga: I WILL CUT YOU-
Carmen: LADIES LADIES PLEASE YOU’RE BOTH BEAUTIFUL hey gals get Zuniga out of here
*Poor Zuniga, who deserves better, is removed.*
Don José: ...welp looks like I have no choice but to come with you guys
Everyone: Don José, it’ll be awesome, and it’ll be freeing; it’s like that song...how does it go again? Oh, yeah: TAKE ME HOOOOOOOOOME COUNTRY ROOOOOOOOOOOADS TO THE PLACE I BELOOOOOOOOONG WEST VIRGINIAAAAAAA MOUNTAIN MAMAAAAAAAA TAKE ME HOOOOOOOOOOOME COUNTRY ROOOOOOOOOOOOADS
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benisasoftboi · 5 years
Text
Some unorganised thoughts on Drag Race UK, now that we’re two episodes in:
I’m so sorry Scaredy, I did this to you by liking you, this always happens
So I won’t say aloud who I’m currently rooting for, lest the same curse befall them
Episode Two’s mini challenge was the most blatant attempt at stirring up drama that I’ve ever seen on a reality show and I did not appreciate it. Plus, also, it was so, so uncomfortable to watch British contestants do. It wouldn’t have been a problem on an American episode but we just... don’t do stuff like that. Modesty is kind of our national sport - you don’t say you’re better than other people, you passive aggressively show it and then deny it when asked. Note how even when the queens are being up themselves it’s always with a slight tinge of irony.
Liked Episode One’s photoshoot though
The hometown runway was a really good theme idea, and they did a fantastic job
I grew up just outside of Essex, and Cheryl’s look was spot on
And I currently live in Birmingham, so I loved Sum Ting’s look out of pure hometown loyalty. And also because it was brilliant
Though I totally disagree that the Bullring is the most iconic thing in Birmingham. It’s just a tall, kind of ugly shopping centre. I’d probably pick Old Joe clock tower, or maybe the library (it looks ridiculous, but inside it’s unexpectedly gorgeous - could probably work a metaphor out of that)
CBBC live tweeting it is the best thing that has ever happened in this country ever
I know the BBC can’t afford to give big expensive prizes and has its whole advertising and licensing rules. And the Ru Peter Badges are cute. But what would have been funnier would be if they had just struck up some deals and gave away really shit prizes. You win 200 Nectar Points. A 16-25 railcard. A World Book Token. Five free Tesco Meal Deals. A CompareTheMarket Baby Oleg plush toy, simples
Having this air at the same time as The Apprentice has made me realise I need a show where Michelle Visage and Karren Brady sit down together and watch people fail miserably at things. A Visage and Brady Total Wipeout commentary track
I know everyone’s saying it, but PLEASE let someone do Tracy Beaker for Snatch Game, PLEASE
I don’t know if anyone else is feeling this way, and maybe this will change, but to me it’s clear that this is still an American show made by and for Americans
It feels... tourist-y. Of the five looks/challenges, not counting last night’s mini, only one actually felt like it had been planned show off actual British culture, and it was the hometown one, which was why I liked it so much
To be clear, I am not a hardcore patriot by any stretch of the imagination (if I was, I probably wouldn’t have this complaint actually, that type will eat up anything with a Union Jack on it), I just feel like we’re missing out on some of really cool cultural stuff
Like... the Queen? It’s Americans that like the Royal Family (and old ladies, hardcore patriots, and bitchy Daily Mail readers, none of whom are really part of the Drag Race demographic), most of us either don’t care or outright resent them (it relates to class culture being very different here to in the US, but that’s a whole other thing)
I know it seems obvious, but honestly when I heard Drag Race UK my first thought was that they’d start with something panto themed -  panto isn’t exactly drag culture but it could have been a good way to sell the show to British audiences who hadn’t watched the American show by starting them with something familiar. It’s been getting mainstream advertising, they’re clearly trying to widen the net
Downton Abbey? I mean yeah, fine, but I don’t think it’s nearly as iconic to British audiences as it is to Americans. You know what would have been amazing? HORRIBLE HISTORIES, imagine. The main BBC3 audience is just the right age to love and watch that even if they’re not Drag Race fans
(They’d never do that under any circumstances but I can dream)
It’s not at all bad that they’re doing stuff that’s more accessible to an international audience, it does make sense and I don’t want it to be incomprehensible to outsiders by any means - but like I say, I feel like we’re missing out on some potentially neat stuff by only really doing tourist UK. Much as I hate... everything that’s going on right now, and much as I absolutely despise the awful parts of my country’s cultural attitudes (of which there are many), the good parts of British culture are ridiculous and absurd and stupid and fun - in other words, they’re perfect for this show
Actually, I know what it is that’s bothering me. They’re doing challenges based on what Americans think British culture is like. It would be like if I went to the US and made a season where the photoshoot was set in a McDonald’s and the first runway challenge was to dress up in fat suits while toting a gun as an accessory - sure it’s based on a kernel of truth, but it is ultimately just lazy stereotyping 
At least the queens are all doing real UK, as you’d expect, which has been consistently delightful - a very good cast
Ooh look at me I’m whinging and whining because a reality show isn’t representing my first world country exactly how I wanted it to what a huge terrible problem this was definitely worth all the time I spent writing this my life is very hard
After reading this back I’ve realised the majority of my comments are going to be completely meaningless to anyone outside of the UK so actually they’re maybe doing the right thing after all. Sorry to waste your time
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pirate-autobot · 4 years
Text
The Legend of Anita Sanchez Chapter 8
(Yeah, I’m back, fools! Thanks to... Everything, I found inspiration to continue Anitas story. But just in case, you may want to go back and reread this and “The Tale of Anita Sanchez” to get caught up on everything.)
Cree Cree Cree Cree
“I hate this.” Anita complained
“It’s for the best.” Anton commented
Cree Cree
“I feel so weak. So helpless.” Anita complained
“You did this to yourself, mi amor.” Anton responded
Cree Cree
“FIX THE DAMN WHEEL ANTON!” Anita yelled
“I DON’T KNOW HOW ANITA!” Anton yelled back
Cree Cree
The two paused in their journey back home. The doctors said that not only should Anita be bedridden for a few more days, but should not even walk home. The wheelchair had the squeakiest wheel in the history of wheels.
Cree Cree
Anita vowed the day she would have to ride in one of these again would be the day she took up... knitting. She shuddered at the very thought, fiddling with her necklace.
Cree Cree
But at least her eyes were uncovered. It would help in cheering on Jorge’s Corrida. She wished she could have seen his audition before it, but hopefully-
Cree
“THAT’S IT! I’VE HAD ENOUGH! GIVE ME THE CANE!” Anita yelled
“Nita, you’ll go slower with the cane.” Anton reminded her.
“If I hear that maldito wheel squeak one more time, I’m going to use it for kindling!”
Anita pushed herself up. She stumbled. Her ankle was still sore. Anton quickly handed her the cane. Anita took it and found her balance. Composing herself she started walking to the bullring.
“Leave it behind, husband.” She commented. Anton was soon at her side, without the wheelchair.
With their trek being so much quieter, it gave the couple time to think, to talk. Finally, time to clear the air.
“The kiss was an accident.” Anton admitted
“I know.” Anita agreed, which was not what her husband expected her to say.
“But you got so angry.” Anton said
“I was angry you didn’t admit it, that you hid the fact that it happened like it was a full on affair. I was angry that you didn’t come clean about it.” Anita explained. “Mistakes happen, especially when tequila is involved.”
“Especially.” Anton agreed
“But I’ve been up front with my mistakes and my secrets, and it hurt that you and my brother decided to not be.” Anita added
Silence. Painful, agonizing silence.
“I waited for you. I prayed for you in church. That platter, I put it back in the attic so nobody could steal it while you were gone. Gone killing bandits.” Anton said
Anita wouldn’t accept an apology. Even though he was a Mendoza, he married a Sanchez. And Sanchezes never apologize, after all. What more could he do?
It was torture knowing his love was gone on what may have been a suicide mission, because of a mistake between him and Jorge.
But here she was, alive and damaged. If he had gone with her, she wouldn’t have gotten a scratch. Just the thought of the pain she endured. Anton couldn’t breathe.
“Thank you.” Anita said. “For everything.”
And just like that, a boulder slid off of Anton’s shoulders.
“But that wheel.” Anita said with a slight chuckle.
“I’ll get it fixed after the corrida.” Anton promised. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She smiled at the warmth.
“Dios. I missed this.” She admitted
“I missed you too.” Anton said
“Yeah yeah, Anton, mi amor, but this.” She quickened her pace as they reached the bullring.
Crowds were still arriving, but the cheers were still pounding. Anita closed her eyes and, before even entering the arena, she could smell the dust. She could feel the sword in her grip. She was home at last.
“Oh how I’ve missed this.” She sighed
“You’ll have to wait to enjoy it for yourself. Come on.”
“You go ahead. I want to see Jorge, first.” The two kissed before parting ways. Anita hobbled her way through the halls to the chapel.
It felt like years since she’s been to this place. Anita smiled at the angry face of her father.
“Missed you too, papa.” She whispered
The couple heard a cough come down the hall, accompanied by stomping feet. Jorge came into view. He looked... unwell. He was sweating with pale skin and bloodshot eyes. He cleared his throat passing his sister.
“Jorge? Hermanito?” Anita asked
“I’m fine. I’m as healthy as the last time we met.” Jorge assured her, putting his armor on.
“That was a few days ago,” Anita said
“Señor Wilson has started offering 25 percent in profits. I promised him a spectacular corrida that would blow him away and out of San Angel.” Jorge admitted
“John Wilson? He’s still,” Anita paused, “Jorge, you’re sick. You can’t-“
“My audition went horribly.” Jorge said flatly. He looked at his sister. She finally noticed the tear streaks along his cheeks. He sniffed. “Maybe you were right about music.”
“Don’t say that.” Anita whispered
“It’s not work fit for a Sanchez bullfighter.” Jorge added
He put his helmet on and left. With her cane hindering her advances, Anita hurried after him.
“Jorge! Get back here!” She yelled
With a frustrated groan, she tossed aside the cane and ran with a limp to the ring. She collapsed against a wall. Jorge was finishing his dedication. The corrida was dedicated to his sister who was “taken by bandits” before Junie brought her back, beaten and bruised.
“-but I promise you, Junie will return to the ring soon. The hero of San Angel is still finishing off whatever bandits dared to invade our fair town. Now, let’s begin!” Jorge announced
“No, no!” Anita said. She pushed herself up to limp run again. She finally arrived in the bullring. But therein was the problem.
She was in the bullring.
During a corrida.
Jorge was not looking good. The bull didn’t gore him, but he already looked worn out. Nobody noticed the woman yet. Thankfully, Anita was able to hide behind one of the wooden walls. She hissed when she put pressure on her bad ankle. With a thud, Jorge fell against the opposite side of the wall she was behind.
“Hermano?” Anita asked
“Nita?” He asked, panting.
They looked around the same corner to see each other
“What are you doing?!” They asked each other. “You can not fight in your condition!”
“You’re sick!” Anita said
“You’re hurt!” Jorge said
“You’re in trouble!” Someone in the stand behind them yelled
They both looked in the ring, the bull was charging at them.
It felt as if time was slowed down.
Jorge was shocked. He couldn’t move. Was this how he was going to die? It was too fast. He tried running to the other side.
Anita felt old memories resurfacing. A small child would hide in this situation. But not this time. She grabbed her brothers right arm and tried pulling him behind the wall. She didn’t have the strength.
There were screams in the crowd. Anita fell to the ground, but Jorge fell with her, but only halfway. She heard him screaming. She saw blood.
When time caught up to them, Anita finally saw the horns embedded in the wooden wall. She could see his right leg behind the wall, waving In the air. She came around the front
“Nita! Please!” He begged. His left hand shook as he drew his sword, dropping it on the ground. She straightened her back.
Anita limped around the wall. The bull struggled to pull itself out. She could see it’s horns poking through her brother’s left knee and right arm, pinning him to the wall like a moth to be displayed.
“Para... mi hermano...” she lifted the sword over her head, “y papa.” She said, before bringing the weapon down and finishing the beast. It collapsed and slid out of the wall, with Jorge still stuck in its horns.
The crowd cheered wildly. It certainly was a corrida nobody was expecting. Anita would have smiled. She felt victorious in more ways than one. But,
“We need a Doctor! Ahora!” Anita yelled, she fell to her brothers side. “Jorge.”
He was as white as a sheet, gasping for breath like a fish.
“Nita, Anton and I-“ he started
“He told me. I already forgive you.” She said, taking his helmet off.
“He did? You do?” Jorge said. A smile slowly grew. Then he raised a hand, as if he was swatting flies.
“Hermano?” Anita asked
“Can’t you see them?” Jorge asked, his voice growing weaker.
“See what?” His sister sounded so far away.
“The white... handker... chiefs?”
“Jorge!” Anita yelled
He couldn’t hear her. He was already gone.
But...
No....
No, he wasn’t.
“He still has a pulse.”
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randomlonelytorment · 5 years
Text
This guy I know is questioning me about why I got my nose pierced and after I told him That; "I dunno, I just felt like it. Sorta for the same reason why people get their ears done I guess. I want other piercings still..."
He's now proceeding to list off all the peircings I can't get because it never looks nice on women.
So far he's said:
Don't get a septum, aka the bullring.
Don't get a second stud on the side of my nose that's already pierced.
Don't get another nose piercing. Period.
Don't get an industrial.
Don't get an inner helix.
Don't get my tongue done.
Don't get my lip done.
Don't get more than 2 or 3 lobe piercings.
He's yet to pass judgement on my plans to get an eyebrow piercing. And he's said "I guess it would be alright for you to get a helix piercing. I can't say that I would hate that."
Yeah righto, fuck knuckle. Guess what the first thing I do when I get money is gonna be?? Snapchat you as I get fuckin peircings done.
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natsukachie · 5 years
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So it's bullfight season in my country right? Which means there's bullfight pamphlets everywhere bc the damn bullring bastards spread them through the cars near every beach in the area, trying to attract tourists (and trust me it is the tourists they're after bc the thing is 99% in english), which means there's pamphlet trash everywhere bc people ofc don't wanna go and then instead of being decent human beings and throw the paper in a trashcan, no they throw it on the floor. I hate summer sometimes.
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armysantiny · 3 years
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in london?? ooh im glad you enjoyed yourself !!! pls thats me i cant dress for the heat at all my closet and body is built for the winter and winter only literally but bubble tea and pretzels 🥺🥺 ahh youre making me jealous !!
i actually love and hate going primark i hate the primark in the bullring just because mickey mouse is literally everywhere and im trying to find a cute sweater without his face on the back of it oh my god padnjdkry
Yo are you in Birmingham?
Yeah, I'm a Londoner lol. I should have taken a picture, it was so good!
Honestly- I only use Primark for my bras, some shoes and the occasional shirt-
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allyinthekeyofx · 7 years
Text
Seasonal spirit 1/1
For day 5 of @thexmasfileschallenge ‘Tinsel’
Scully is imbued with Christmas spirit. Mulder is not, and he realises perhaps for the first time that Scully is more than just his partner.  Set in season one. Also tagging @today-in-fic
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Seasonal spirit
The cardboard box sits just to the right of his desk, dumped unceremoniously by Scully on the ugly grey carpet that covers the floor and the force of the impact had jostled the contents just enough for a strand of gaudy green tinsel to have escaped the confines and flop loosely over the edge of the box where it had settled, with obviously no intention of flopping back in.  And he thinks that if it had actually stayed hidden, he might, just might have been able to ignore its very existence and pretend this morning had never happened.
As it was though, the light catching the metallic surface made it a twinkling, accusing reminder of what an absolute asshole he had been - even more of an asshole than he usually was that is - and no matter where he settled his gaze, that fucking piece of glittery tat mocked him in the far reaches of his peripheral vision with all the stomach churning acidic burn that only the very guilty ever feel.
He could simply get up and stuff it back down into the box and then kick the whole thing out into the hallway where he wouldn’t have to look at it, but a part of him knew that he deserved every bit of the guilt he was feeling and which had been building steadily inside him since she had exited the office; displaying as much dignity she could muster in the face of his sneering, mocking indifference toward what she had tried to do.
The morning had started well enough he supposed.  They had no immediate cases on their books to tax them, the rainstorm of yesterday had given way to sunshine and clear frosty skies and for the first time in weeks he had managed to get a decent night’s sleep without hearing the cut-glass accent and mocking british tones of Phoebe Green taunting him in his head whenever he closed his eyes.  Consequently, he had been a little late getting himself together, and knowing that Scully - ever the early bird - would no doubt have beaten him to work he decided to stop off and pick them both up a decent cup of coffee which would, he decided, make a welcome change from the evil brew served up in the bullring and which tasted like something had crawled into the machine and died most of the time.
In fact, he had to admit that when he entered the office he was feeling pretty chipper, the scent of the coffee mixing deliciously with the fresh-baked bagels in the brown paper sack that was tucked tightly beneath his index and pinky finger, his remaining digits curled around the cup carrier.  A bit of a juggling act sure, but he had made the perilous journey down the service staircase that led to the basement without a single drop being spilled.
The sight that greeted him though almost caused everything to fall to the floor at the same rate as his mouth dropped open, and for a second he just stood rooted to the spot.
His partner was balancing precariously atop the swivel chair - his swivel chair it should be noted -  and while initially he found himself to be momentarily diverted by the fact she was not only wearing a skirt, but that she had slipped her shoes off in order to give herself a better contact surface of- feet- to- cushioned- seat as she arranged a strand of red tinsel at the edge of his bookshelf, one end already secured beneath his precious ‘Six seconds in Dallas’ hardback and the other still held in her hand.  Her hair had flopped over her face and she huffed at it in annoyance before before suddenly being aware of his presence, quickly stuffing the fluttering glittery decoration under another book (John G. Fullers ‘The interrupted journey’ - a first edition no less) she turned to bestow upon him a dazzling smile which, under normal circumstances would have pretty much knocked Fox Mulder square on his Armani clad butt.
“Merry Christmas!”
He said nothing and Scully’s smile drooped a little, her brow furrowing slightly as she gracefully stepped down from the chair and back onto solid ground and for just a moment, it struck him how small she actually was without her customary heels. But the the thought was a fleeting one, immediately chased away by a sudden surge of annoyance at what she had done.
Various bits of Christmas Kitsch  jostled for space alongside his prized collection of genuine alien artifacts, the shrunken head he had managed to procure from an admittedly, fairly dubious source, now sported a gaudy red satin bow that was caught at the center with a sprig of plastic holly, every shelf, every surface in the small room had been sprinkled with his still-fairly-new partners version of Christmas cheer.  Even the poster on the wall behind his desk now had the unwelcome addition of a collection of plastic gold baubles and -of all things - white pom-poms hanging from the corner via a thumb tack which succeeded in doing a fine job of obscuring a fairly large chunk of the iconic image from view. 
Slamming the cup carrier down on the desk and ignoring the fact that brown liquid sloshed out of the small hole in the plastic lid and spattered across the completed report he had finally finished yesterday ready to deliver to Skinner, he began removing Scully’s festive handiwork and shoving it roughly back into the large cardboard box that she had perched on the other chair. 
“Mulder?”  there was no trace of annoyance in her voice, just confusion. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t do Christmas.”
“That’s it?  No discussion?  No compromise? You don’t do Christmas so I don’t do it either?  What about what I might want? Does it even occur to you that I might not only ‘do’ Christmas but that I might even actually enjoy doing it?”
And then he’d said it.  Said the first thing that came into his head, wanting to pull the words back in the second they were thrown at her.  Careless words he didn’t really mean but which had an immediate and devastating effect on her.
“My office Scully.  My rules. End of discussion.”
Her face had paled slightly as she took a step away from him and he could almost see the chasm which opened up between them, all those months of learning to work together as a single cohesive partnership, all those months of learning to trust each other, of watching each other’s backs and he had just sent them spiraling backwards by reminding her that she was here by default, had been assigned to his quest, to his domain, that she was still just an interloper in his world.
The look on her face was scaring him a little, as though he had just confirmed everything she feared might be true, that he was merely tolerating her presence these past months, that all her continuing efforts to prove herself worthy had been for nothing.
“Scully….look I didn’t mean….”
But she hadn’t let him finish, grabbing the box from atop the chair in order to free her coat which she had draped over the high back, and dropping it and it’s contents at Mulder’s feet.
“Well I’ll just leave this here for you Mulder.  You might want to pee up it since it’s encroached upon your territory and I’d hate for you to miss an opportunity to mark it.”
She shrugged her coat on then, stuffing her feet in the discarded shoes and growing an additional three inches in the space of a heartbeat before turning away from him and heading for the door.  She had paused just before stepping through it.
“Oh and fuck you, you complete and utter asshole.”
And then she was gone, leaving him to spend the rest of the morning being taunted by that piece of shitty green tinsel.
Because yes, he was an asshole.  No argument from him there, especially since she had done nothing to garner such an extreme reaction from him aside from trying to share something of herself, something she loved; not Dana Scully the special agent, but Dana Scully who was a person in her own right..  A woman he had come to think of as his friend, perhaps the only human being on this whole planet who would take all the shit he doled out on a daily basis and yet still get to the office at God only what time this morning in order to surprise him with her version of Christmas.
And he had thrown it right back at her as though it were nothing, making her believe it was all down to territory rather than actually admitting that he had stopped celebrating any kind of holiday years ago, that such traditional periods of family unity were just too painful for him to acknowledge. Because it was easier just to lay it on her instead.
Oh yeah.  Asshole covered it quite nicely when he thought about it.
Scrubbing his face wearily with his hands, Mulder turned his attention back to the cardboard box, knowing exactly what he needed to do to set things straight with her no matter how much it didn’t sit right with him, for Scully he would swallow his pride with good grace and if she wanted to do the office Christmas thing then he would do it too.
**********
It was much later in the day when he heard the staccato sound of her heels approaching along the concrete corridor that led to the office and he feigned nonchalance as she entered the room, apparently nonreactive, head bent studiously over the paperwork that littered his desk, but still unable to suppress a smile at her sharp intake of breath at the sight before her.
Because not only were her handful of decorations now displayed around the office but a quick trip to the local mall had resulted in the addition of even more tinsel which was wound tightly around the desk and chair legs, two strings of colorful lights fastened to the window frame and the piece d resistance - a small spruce fir tree that sat resplendent beside the filing cabinets and which now filled the air around them with sharp, winter fragrance.  As yet, its branches were still bare.
“They thought you might like to decorate that one yourself Scully.  You know, put your own stamp on it so to speak”
And there it was.  The patented Dana Scully eyebrow, quirked in his direction as she continued to stare at the virtual grotto that was once their office.
“They Mulder?  Who are ‘they’?”
“Elves.  The elves told me.  You know…the Christmas elves.”
“The elves huh?”
He nodded.
“Yep.  Small guys; dubious taste in leg-wear; funny ears.  Want to know what else they told me?”
He didn’t wait for her to reply.
“They told me they will be back the day after Christmas without fail, to take it all down again.”
Scully reached out to touch one of the shiny, needle encrusted branches of the small tree, trailing her fingers across it before turning back to Mulder, that same dazzling smile he had wiped off her face earlier and which was now back in full force, lighting up the room with more color than a thousand gaudy decorations could ever hope to do.  
“Ahhh well Mulder, I think maybe we will need to talk about that.”
End
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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 7 years
Text
Rambles, not reviews
I saw:
Ferdinand- A calf, bullied for prefering flowers to fighting, is traumatized by his father proudly heading off to the bull ring but never returning. Running away, he lucks up and ends up found by a young girl that loves him dearly. He grows up happily as one of the family, so can’t understand why he is excluded from the trip to the local flower festival. He sneaks off to join them, but one encounter with a bee and chaos is unleashed everywhere including a china shop. The authorities drag him off to where he started.
Now grown much larger than his bullies and befriended by a goat that wants to coach him he is still in terrible trouble. He’s a bull that hates fighting and is all too aware of the doom of the bullring, but any bulls unable or willing to fight have an equally dark fate as they are shipped off to be butchered. Can our sweet big pacifist not only escape a brutal death but also save the others?
I knew going in that the beloved book, one my mother’s favorites to read to my brother and I when we were little** would have to be altered significantly to fill out a feature film length. And of course that was true. But compared tp the liberties other such films often take, these generally weren’t too crude and didn’t betray the nature of the main character. There is slapstick and tear jerking moments, action chases,  brash comedy sidekicks, bullies that reform and the rest the usual  sorts of things found in this sort of animated film before we get to the happily ever after and pop song credits. I do wonder if I’m missing a joke as too why the egotistical horses have German accents. I’m thinking it’s the lipizzan horses, in which case I guess it’s actually an Austrian accent (look, I once saw some of those horses perform once, that’s the only reason I know that) Overall it’s a cute, sweet, kiddie movie with it’s heart in the right place, but nothing too remarkable.
So, to update my 2017 best animated feature ranking  (reminding you I don’t usually rank things) 1)The Beadwinner 2)Loving Vincent 3)Coco 4)Ferdinand 
I’m afraid this one was so conventional that, despite my enjoying it, even though I grumbled about them more I can’t bump it ahead of 2 and 3.
** I won’t bore you with the very long list of books Mom read to us over and over, but there were three books she carried on every trip: Ferdinand, The Reluctant Dragon, and Just So Stories. I also took my own suitcase full of books (just books!) because I was that sort of kid. 
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guksthighs · 7 years
Text
Shark Attack ( ii )
Chapter 2: Querencia
 one | two | three | four | five | six 
Group: BTS
Pairing: V X READER
Requested
Summary: Getting high leads to some bad choices.
Genre: fluff, angst, surfer au , shifter au
Length: 2.2k
A/N: this went from 3 parts to 6 parts, pls keep sending thoughts about it to keep me stoked dudes ;) but seriously any creative critism or just anything always helpful!!!
Warning: substance abuse ( weed )
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“You can’t not get high, Y/N. It’s part of the rules,” Jeongguk held the spliff in your direction, but you were busy slaving away over your board, as you rubbed the wax into it. Taehyung hated waxing his board and he had already bribed you to do his, by promising you an uninterrupted week in the only bed in the caravan.
You turned to Jeongguk, still with his arm outstretched as he offered you the spliff, “Whatever you say Kook,” you replied with a laugh, a bit of scattered laughter echoing around the group of boys, most of them laying on their back’s in the dappled shade. But Jeongguk’s ears had turned a bright red, as he frowned at you before letting out a grunt and taking a long inhale himself,
“Don’t call me Kook. I’m not a new surfer and I don’t cause any problems compared to Tae.” The nickname, ‘Kook’, had always gotten on his nerves, but that just encouraged you to use it more as you enjoyed watching his nose twitch slightly and his muscles tense as would he try to think of a comeback.
But with a laugh, Jimin nudged him, leaning too far and collapsing on his shoulder, “the whole point of being called Kook is that you are unaware of causing problems so you wouldn’t know anyway.” Yoongi hushed Jimin a bit too loud and you looked towards Taehyung who was sitting on the edge of the circle.
Taehyung noticed your glance and beamed at you, taking an inhale of the spliff before blowing smoke rings in your direction, a trick he had been taught by Namjoon after the elder had boasted it was what got him, multiple girls, before he started dating Jin, a surfing lifeguard on the beach that Namjoon had been teaching young children how to surf.
By the time Taehyung’s smoke rings had reached you, the wisps of smoke had spread out but you still winked at him, trying not to laugh at the pride in his face, before you turned back to continue waxing the board. 
When the surface seemed well covered, you smiled to yourself, before sitting next to Taehyung and snatching the spliff out of Jimin’s hands, smiling to yourself as you noticed how much was left, “does anyone have my weed from last night?” you looked at Taehyung because if anyone had it, it would be him as he had a talent of swiping other people’s and not buying his own.
“I didn’t have the honour of becoming acquainted with yours, although it is probably still hidden in your underwear drawer,” you glared at Taehyung as the boys looked at you, still confused.
Taehyung and you had grown up together and he had taught you the joys of surfing, soon you used all of your money saved to pay for college funds for boards and the caravan you had been calling home for almost two years.
Over time, you had widened your group of friends and yet they were always intrigued by your friendship, that always held the tinges of sexual tension, held heated stares and knowledge of discreet facts.
But as your mind returned to the dappled shade you were currently sitting in, you tried to tune in as Jeongguk brought up the topic of how to deter a shark and you laughed at how adamant he was about hitting a shark in the nose to make it pass out when you knew for a fact that did nothing.
But eventually you decided to let the conversation lull you into a peaceful state, and it wasn’t long before your body began to feel heavier and your mouth began to dry, you let out a sigh of happiness and paused at the sound. A sound that could also sound like a moan of pleasure, like the feeling you got when you surfed and you fell onto the hot sand, before sitting back up, “This is my querencia.”
“You’re not Joon, Y/N, why do you always get like this?” Taehyung had just been thinking about what it would be like to have sex in his shark form and your use of a weird word had broken his concentration of the fantasy, so now he had to know what it meant, as he whined to you, “What does it mean?”
You smirked at him, tapping your nose before deciding that would be too mean and you were in no position to risk losing your bed privileges, so you began to explain slowly as if to children, which you would argue he was, “A Querencia is somewhere that feels like home where you are free to be yourself.” Namjoon hummed in agreement before he gasped, snapping his fingers for attention,
“It also is a part of the bullring in Spanish,” Taehyung laughed at you, and as you growled at him, you felt your head tingle and as you heard the waves crashing amplify, you realised you had accidentally shifted.
“That’s what you get for trying to be clever,” he was still laughing, an annoying fake laugh that hurt your ears and you tried to think of a way to shut him up. But as your lips sealed over his, you realised there were most likely better options than your chosen method, especially when his lips turned cold and wet under you and as you opened your eyes, he had fully shifted.
But you all burst into hysterics, the boy who boasted about how good he was with girls had just fully shifted having been kissed. But as you stroked his damp back slightly, you tried to understand why he was struggling so much if he could just shift back until you remembered that sharks live in the water, and he was going to die.
This sudden panic had tingles running throughout your body, and before you knew it you had shifted as well, the group’s laughter increased but you had one job and that was to get him into the water somehow, even in this form that you had no idea how to return to normal.
Without giving it much thought, your teeth sunk into his caudal fin and he began to thrash around more before with a low growl his body went limp as you bounded towards the sea, suddenly grateful for the speed that came with being a tiger shifter.
When you finally got to the sea, you continued to run before finally dropping him into the water, but you had lost interest in him, now enjoying the sea and the way the water felt against your fur, your paws paddling against the water before Taehyung swam over to slap you in the face with a tail.
For a while, you didn’t care as you let yourself feel weightless, but then you began to come down from your high, becoming more aware of the cramp that was developing in your legs and that you had no idea how to shift back. You faintly remembered your mother teaching you what to do, desperately clinging to the dregs of memory that shifted like sand in your mind, until finally, you remembered what to do.
The trick was to imagine what you looked like as a human, what it felt like to pick things up with your fingers and walk on two feet, anything to break away from the tiger mentality your body was currently stuck in; as you tentatively opened your eyes before grinning when you caught sight of your long, tanned limbs treading water.
Taehyung weaved between your legs, his fins tickling your legs and with a deep breath you dunked your head under the water to try and grab onto him to force him to shift back, and when with a sharp flick of his tail he was facing you; you were unsure if it was the weed still running in your veins that gave you the confidence to do it, but your hands cupped Taehyung’s shark face as you planted a kiss on his nose, laughing when he nuzzled into your face, the bubbles escaping blocking your view.
With a gasp, you resurfaced for a breath, letting out another laugh as taehyung nuzzled into your hands, the way he craved love and attention had always intrigued you, but you still scratched his nose slightly. Taehyung, unlike most shifters, said he didn’t have a preference between both forms and you could see it in the ease that he swam with.
The waves had calmed, lapping at your shoulders as you started moving towards backwards with Taehyung nudging your back every now and then, until you hit your foot on a rock, hopping in the water before you fell, trying to turn and kick Taehyung as the pain throbbed in your foot.
But as the tears started to collect in your eyes, you watched Taehyung leap into the air as he shifted, falling back into the water with a loud splash and laugh. Before he jumped out again with his arms spread, engulfing you before he dragged you under the water that stung your open eyes, although it meant you could see the small bubbles escape from his mouth as his mouth spread into a smile. Under the water, everything seemed to move slower, and as his arms moved up from behind your back until his fingers were slightly digging into your scalp, you smiled at him slightly confused as he pulled you into him as he planted a kiss on your lips as the waves began to crash overhead.
Taehyung pulled away when you pulled away to release bubbles that ran up his face, and he let out a laugh before being forced to rise to the surface to breathe; pulling you with him before gasping loudly when your heads surfaced. But as you watched him gasp for breath, his muscles shifting with every breath you began to wonder what the kiss meant, and as always he could tell he had confused you, “Dude, you saved my life, so I had to repay you.”
You sighed, running a hand over your face before pushing your hair back because you knew him and you could tell by the fact he wasn’t looking you in the eye that what he had said wasn’t the entire truth, “Or is it because you wanted to see if I would shift?”
Taehyung’s eyes widened at your statement and smug smile, he forgot that you could read him like an open book. But you weren’t looking at him anymore, your back turned as you began to walk out of the water and as Taehyung watched your figure leave, he wondered what the kisses you had shared meant. They weren’t like the usual chaste ones, followed by giggles and nudging; the first one had held for longer than needed and he still remembered the slightly salty taste and warmth that radiated from you and soon he was running through the water to catch up.
By the time Taehyung reached the beach, you had collapsed on the golden sand with your hair coated in bits of sand, as you tried to let the sun dry but as you were cast into shadows, you opened your eyes, just to find Taehyung with his hips, grinning at you with a broad smile, before his eyes widened and crinkled slightly at the sides as he seemed to think of an idea running towards the waves as he bent over, poking at the sand as you propped yourself on your elbows to watch him with a small smile.
When you finally got bored of watching him, laying back on the sea so you could dry off, the midday sun was hot on your skin, and you hummed in pleasure at the warmth it provided, looking forward to shaking the sand off your back and climbing into bed for a nap.
But your plans never came true; as something cold, hard and wet landed on your arm causing you to leap up in shock only to be forced onto your back again by Taehyung, who was holding a handful of shells and had a massive grin, “I’m giving you an infamous TaeTae shell massage!” He continued to place the shells on your limbs, but he could see how unimpressed you were even if you were staying still until he placed a particularly cold one on top of your belly button,
“It can’t be infamous if this is the first I’ve heard of it,” you still stayed still though, enjoying the calming feeling of the shells although you would never admit it to him, and Taehyung knew you liked the feeling. So he just grunted, his eyebrows drawn into a frown due to the concentration he was putting into placing them correctly,
“Oy idiots, get over here. We’re pulling straws for lunch and if you don’t pull one, you’re going to get the washing up duty.” Namjoon called over, and your eyes shot open to catch Taehyung’s both of you freezing before he stuck out his tongue, leaping up from his crouching position as he sprinted towards the group as you struggled to get up, with all the shells falling off of you,
“KIM TAEHYUNG, GET BACK HERE YOU KOOK!” Jeongguk’s head whipped around at the sound of his name, to the laughter of the boys as you chased after Taehyung, it seemed you always were.
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