#what a silly word… do British people actually talk like this? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

python333 · 1 year ago

Note

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—”

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of.

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you.

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece.

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?”

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder.

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up.

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.”

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder.

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s��possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.”

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up.

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.”

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about.

It was their stupid accents you hated.

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy?

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up.

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.”

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?”

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?”

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.”

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return.

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.”

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.”

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers.

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open.

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price.

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap.

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk.

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?”

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well.

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.”

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?”

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.”

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.”

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.”

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact.

“Mhm,” Ghost hums.

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.”

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle.

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].”

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?”

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.”

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—”

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.”

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic.

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought.

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you.

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.”

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.”

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.”

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.”

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort.

“Muppet?”

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.”

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.”

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?”

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—”

“Ghost, don’t start—”

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

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deakyjoe · 2 years ago

Text

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 2

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her pronouns used, reader is implied British and given backstory)

Category: I still don’t know but it’s coming together

Summary: On a night out with your friends, you’re pleasantly surprised to run into your secret observer.

Warnings: flirting (Ghost and reader getting some action, they deserve it), mentions of war/death, talks of scars, alcohol consumption, Ghost being normal AND weird, the mask is off again, Ghost doing domestic things almost (socialisation in a pub), sexual references, family issues, reader’s friends are intense, British terminology/slang, swearing/cursing, dialogue heavy, minute Soap slander (I love him but couldn’t resist)

Word Count: 5.5k (longer than part 1)

A/N: After the love I got for part 1, I decided to continue so Simon is still my babygirl. Please remember that if Simon feels out of character, that’s the point of this story. It’s him when he’s not being Ghost but being forced to mix aspects of his life at home and his life at work - the work aspects being reader. Also he’s going out of his comfort zone to please the sergeant (you) because he likes you but just hasn’t really realised it yet. Not entirely sure I’m as pleased with this part as I was with the first but we’re posting anyway!

Part 1 available here.

Part 3 available here.

It took weeks before your friends finally managed to convince you to join them on a night out. You'd been putting it off for a number of reasons. One being that the thought of socialising in a crowded environment had you wanting to gouge your eyes out as you'd grown used to little to no company. Another being that you genuinely thought it'd be overwhelming and you might have a panic attack.

But after they'd assured you that they'd look after you and you could all leave if it got to be too much, you relented and organised a time and place with them. Just your local pub on a Wednesday night. You'd decided on a Wednesday as you hoped it wouldn't be too crowded and that your friends might need a pick-me-up in the middle of their work weeks. They agreed quickly with the idea.

And honestly it'd been nice for the most part. You'd arrived early, you swear active duty had made you so time efficient that you spent almost no time at all getting ready, and sat down at a table in the corner, out of sights of the most of the rest of the pub. The only thing in direct eye line was the bar itself which would come in handy when you needed to go up and order drinks.

Your friends all slowly arrived, none of them being too late, and gave you big greetings as they hadn't seen you in "forever" they claimed. You returned hugs and kisses and prepared yourself for a night of bombarding questions and retelling of war stories.

A couple of your girlfriends were bought drinks by guys at the bar and you watched on in amusement as they giggled about it together. They assured you that someone would probably buy you a drink if you asked but you waved them off saying you didn't care, which you didn't.

You listened intently as they all told you what was happening with their lives - work, significant others, kids, families, pets, parties, weddings, funerals, birthdays, anything and everything you could possibly imagine. A note of envy settled in your stomach at one point but it went away quickly when you told yourself you were being silly.

Telling them about your life was slightly more complicated. You had to skirt around some of the details of your job as it was classified and would probably horrify them if they knew what you truly did. You gushed about some of the amazing people you'd met and mentioned casually that you'd actually bumped into your lieutenant in the supermarket. They all absorbed it with wide eyes of wonder and amazement, each of them having at least one question to ask.

"So, wait, you can actually shoot a gun?"

"Does it bother you having to bunk with a bunch of blokes?"

“What’s said country like?”

"Are any of them fit?"

"Isn't it tiring?"

"How long until you go back?"

"Met anyone you fancy?"

"Hang on, you have to share a communal bathroom?"

Yes, it's alright, not really, they're okay, very, not sure, oh my god, yeah.

They never really seemed satisfied with your answers and always wanted you to elaborate. Which you did if possible.

Overall, it was nice. There was no sense of impending doom or a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole thing. You let your guard down just enough for once to attempt to have a good time. Which you did. You laughed, you chatted, you drank, it was good.

Until the bar tender came over with a drink that looked exactly like what you usually ordered.

And when he placed it in front of you, you wanted to throw up.

"Fella at the bar bought this for you."

This was it. The moment in the night that you looked forward to the least and the moment your friends had been encouraging the most. They insisted that you needed to "put yourself out there more" and “try to get laid at some point”. You were "too uptight" as they put it. Little did they know that you weren't really interested in a quick shag or even a relationship with anyone at the moment. And rejecting someone was always awful. Every time they asked why and having to explain that your job made romantic entanglements extremely hard made things awkward.

"Ooh, this is so exciting!" One of your friends squealed beside you, frantically searching the bar for the culprit. "Which one?"

“Blond one.”

Oh.

"Tall."

My.

"Scars on his face."

God.

Your eyes shot towards the bar and immediately landed on him. Of course he was already looking your way with his drink raised to you.

"Shit." You cursed, silently letting out a sigh of relief that it wasn't someone you'd have to reject but all the more anxious because it was him. A part of you was very excited to see him though.

"What is it? Do you know him?" Another friend asked you.

"He's my lieutenant. Fuck." You stood from your seat, grabbing the drink.

"The one from the shops?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in a minute, guys. I'm just gonna go say hi." You explained, slowly making your way towards Ghost.

"Take your time!"

You hadn't seen your lieutenant since he'd gone over to your place for tea. It was a weird experience. Weirder than the shops. You'd had a couple cups of tea each, shared his packet of chocolate digestive biscuits, which he'd kindly offered to you, chatted a little more and then he'd left. You didn't exchange phone numbers or even offer to see each other again. He didn't because he probably didn't want to and you didn't because you thought he probably wouldn't want to. So you'd gone your separate ways and that was that.

As you got closer to him, you wished you hadn't had so much to drink. You weren't drunk but you weren’t sober either. Kind of just bordering the edges between being buzzed and tipsy.

"Simon."

He turned so his body was facing yours, his large frame consumed the stool he was sitting on. Intimidating and alluring all at once. "Sergeant."

"You really should start calling me by my name." You sighed, stopping to stand in front of him.

"I like calling you sergeant."

"And I liked calling you lieutenant." You shot back, taking a sip of your drink despite your head screaming at you not to.

"Bet you like calling me Simon more."

Your eyes widened at his statement. He wasn't wrong but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "Thanks for the drink, by the way."

"It's no problem. Thought I owed you for the bourbon."

You hummed in agreement but said nothing.

"Friends of yours?" He nodded towards your table where all of them were watching the two of you interact intently.

"Uh, yeah. First night out since being home so..." You shrugged.

"Having fun?"

"I was." You regretted your words immediately, knowing that you’d been insensitive.

"Ruined it, did I?" He asked but it wasn't malicious.

"No. Just... unexpected."

He nodded. "So, which one's your boyfriend?"

You were surprised at the question. Last time he'd enquired about your personal life it hadn't gone so well.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. Used to have a hamster but he died a few months back."

He blinked at you and said nothing so you rushed off to make tea, desperately trying to come up with a new topic to talk about when you got back to him.

"That's presumptuous of you, lieutenant."

"Just making conversation with you, sergeant." The return of dropping rank had you tingling inside. Might have just been the alcohol though.

You huffed. "None of them."

"Girlfriend then?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Sorry soul you're torturing with your affection couldn't make it then? What a shame." His eyes narrowed, you presumed he was joking.

"I'll ignore that insult. I'm single." Setting your drink on the surface of the bar, you leant your hip against the side but not before taking a step closer to him.

"Lucky for the world then that you're not burdening anyone with yourself."

"Jesus, Simon." You laughed out of shock, struck with his bluntness.

"Had to be said."

"Huh, you really are a charmer." You flashed him a glimpse of your teeth in a small smile, brows raising on the last word of your sentence.

"I try my best.” Pause. “Why are you single?"

"Because my affection is a burden apparently." Repeating his own words back to him seemed better than explaining your depressing void of no romance in your life because of your job. But maybe he’d understand.

"I'm serious."

"Why do you care?"

Simon didn’t strike you as the kind of person who gave a shit about the love lives of people he worked with. So why did he seem so interested in yours?

He didn't answer straight away and when he did, it seemed rehearsed. "You're my sergeant, part of my team. It's my role to care."

"To make sure I stay alive. Not to inquire about my love life." You were properly frowning at him now.

Ghost raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry I asked."

With a sigh, you relented. "The job."

"Go on…"

"Makes it difficult. The job makes it difficult to date. Especially civilians." You added the last bit on with clenched teeth. It didn’t really matter. Civilians were not on your romantic radar.

"Would you want to date a civilian?"

He saw straight through you.

"No, not really."

"Hmm."

You wanted to avoid discussing the topic any further so asked a question to change the subject. "What're you drinking?"

"Scotch that Soap recommended."

"And?"

He swished the glass around, the ice clinking against the side. "Utter shite."

"Figures." You took a long look at his drink. “You drink it on the rocks.”

“Tastes better cold. Less shit.”

“That your second glass?”

"Monitoring my alcohol intake, sergeant?” He asked and you shook your head as he looked you up and down. “You gonna take a seat or just stand there all day?"

"I'm supposed to be going back to my friends." You gestured weakly over your shoulder with your thumb, kind of forgetting they’d still been there until that moment.

His eyes flickered between the table and you. "Think we both know that isn't happening any time soon."

You hated how he saw straight through you. "Do we?"

"We do. Take a seat, sergeant." He nodded towards the stool next to him.

You stood up straighter, making a point to look directly into his eyes. "I like being eye level with you."

His foot hooked around the back of your legs and tugged you closer to him. "Think you'll find that I've still got a couple inches on you."

Your skin flushed hot, he was so close to you. You reached out and tapped his chest a couple times before realising what you were doing and removed your hand. "Think you'll find that you've had a bit too much to drink, sir."

"Simon. Thought we'd established that you can call me Simon." He leant back a little bit, relaxing in his seat. “And thought we agreed that you weren’t monitoring my alcohol intake.”

"Sorry." You squeaked.

"Sorry who?"

With a smile, you looked up at him through your lashes. You already knew what you were going to say. "Sorry... Lieutenant Riley."

He smiled. Actually smiled. It was small but it was unmistakable. "Brat."

He was beautiful when he smiled. He was always beautiful but when Simon Riley smiled… he was radiant.

You lit up at the smile but glowered at the insult. "Simon!"

"It's true." He shrugged, taking another mouthful of his drink and wincing at the taste.

"I'm stubborn. Not a brat."

"Believe me, I know you're stubborn. You've almost died like twelve times because you're stubborn. Had to save you every time." He shook his head as if it were a grievance to him.

"Could've left me behind."

"Couldn't do that. I'm your lieutenant, remember? My role is to keep you alive."

"I'm sure Price would let it slide if you had good enough reason." You thought about your Captain and wondered if he'd let you die for a good enough cause. Probably. But you held no resentment towards that fact.

Simon's head tilted to the side as he watched you think. "Don't think he'd accept brat as a reason, hm?"

You raised a finger to correct him. "Stubborn. Not a brat."

"Definitely a brat."

"Stop calling me that." You whined.

"That was the brattiest thing you've ever said. In the brattiest voice." He glared down at you. "You whined."

"You're such a dickhead, Simon." You scoffed but it was clear you were holding back a smile.

"And you're a brat. Guess we're even."

"Okay, I'm going back to my friends. To get away from this targeted attack." You paused. "Unless you want to join."

"I'll pass."

"I guessed. Do you have any friends? Maybe you could use the socialisation." You offered, wondering whether the man ever spoke to anyone when he was home or if he completely isolated himself from the rest of the world.

"Don't have friends for a reason."

That answered that for you.

"And what's that?"

"Ask too many personal questions."

He had a valid point. People did ask too many personal questions and you could understand why someone like Simon wouldn't like that.

"They wouldn't. My friends. They know we tend to be... private."

"You're a sergeant and I'm a lieutenant. Neither of us are privates." He paused to let the joke settle in. "A little army humour."

"I got it. That was good." You beamed at him, eyes crinkling in the corners at his quip.

"How much do they know of what we do?" He nodded in the direction of your friends.

You thought it over for a moment. "Very little. They know more about my teammates than anything else. Even that is limited."

He stiffened at that. "What do they know of me?"

"My quiet lieutenant with no face. Until recently." You let your eyes roam his features, taking all of him in. He was remarkable to look at really. But you'd never voice that to him.

"Hmm."

"There's more but I won't divulge with you." It was a partial joke to mess with him a little. There was some truth behind it however. You may or may not have gushed about your lieutenant to your friends. But that was nothing really. Just friendly appreciation for the man who outranked you.

"That makes me nervous."

Playing with him was too easy and too fun. "You should be."

"I'm reconsidering sitting with you and your friends now." He frowned but wasn't completely serious.

That surprised you. "You were going to?"

"Maybe." He drank more of the Scotch and trembled. "Christ, this stuff is fucking disgusting."

"Order a bourbon, something you know you actually like." You sighed. "Please do. If they're too much we can leave."

"We?" He was always questioning we.

You rolled your eyes at him. "It's always we. Teammates, y'know?"

A level of unsureness settled over his face. "I know."

"Get used to a lot of we then."

"Don't plan on seeing you again after this." The admittance stung but you weren't going to let that stop you.

"I'm sure you thought that last time as well. But here we are. Are you stalking me?" There was a hint of genuineness in the question. There was no way this second chance encounter was pure coincidence.

He shook his head, waving the bar tender over and ordering a bourbon like you'd suggested. "You're too boring for that."

"You have such a way with words. Really know how to make a lady feel special." You said dryly.

"It's a gift." He scratched at the side of his nose, absentmindedly trailing a finger over one of his scars in the process.

"They wouldn't say anything, y'know? Or stare. If you're worried about that. I've come home with my fair share of scars over the years. They understand." You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side to show off an old bullet wound that had scarred over on your collar bone.

Simon's eyes lingered on the mark on your skin but you couldn't quite read his expression. "People always stare."

"I don't."

"No, you don't." He hesitated. "Okay then."

"Wait, really?" You perked up.

"Yes, really. Quickly. Before I change my mind, sergeant." He rose from his seat, grabbing his drink and gesturing for you to go first.

You gazed up at him. It really was easy to forget just how big he was. "Quick question first?"

He didn't seem keen. "Go ahead."

"How long were you here watching me before you sent the drink over?" You really needed to know, to see how out of it you were.

"Not long." Lie.

Your brow furrowed. "How long, Simon?"

"About forty minutes."

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect it to have been that long. "Fort- Jesus. And I didn't notice you?"

He brushed you off with a small shrug. "You were having fun. Guard was down."

"Still."

"Don't dwell on it. I was just going to leave and not let you know I was here." His eyes moved away from you, the opposite side of his eye contact problem showing.

You ducked to the side to meet his gaze again. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugged again.

You offered him a small slip of affection, just the tiniest thing. "I'm glad you didn't."

He grunted in reply, which was more than you were expecting. So, you just gestured for him to follow you towards the table of your friends where you stopped short a couple feet away. You sent a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure that Simon was still, in fact, there and hadn't pulled a Ghost and disappeared. But he was still standing there watching you when you checked. Which meant it was time for introductions... which you sucked at.

"Everybody, this is Simon. My lieutenant. Simon this is... everybody." You frowned at the crowded table in front of you. "You'll pick up names. It's alright that he joins us, yeah?"

“Of course.”

"Yeah."

"Oh, my god, yes."

"Take a seat, mate."

"Where you from, Simon?"

"Manchester."

"Ugh, he's a Manc! Moving on!"

You laughed as you squeezed into the booth with Simon next to you, trying not to touch him too much. "What did I miss? What are we talking about?"

"My husband is cheating on me." One of your friends announced dramatically.

Your eyes widened at the confession. "What? Really?"

"I suspect he is." She pouted, slumping forward onto the table.

"As if. He worships the ground you walk on. As he should. What makes you think he's cheating?" You debated whether this was a good topic to be talking about with your lieutenant sat right there. But then you figured that Simon needed some friends. And what was a better way to make friends than through some old-fashioned gossip?

"Late nights as work. Going to the gym a lot. He's not getting any fitter either."

You winced. "Ah, well that is quite damning."

"Yeah. I'm trying to build up the courage to just ask him about it."

"Yeah, confront him. If he's cheating then come to me. I know how to use a gun and hide a body." You winked at her.

"Sergeant." Simon's warning tone came from beside you.

"I'm kidding, lieutenant." You looked to your friend again and mouthed. "I'm not."

Another one of your friends spoke up, leaning on the table on his elbows. "God, you guys are so formal. Even during leave."

"We don't have to be. He refuses to call me anything other than sergeant. I think it's because he secretly doesn't know my name." You nudged Simon with your elbow and then, realising what you'd done, pulled back quickly. Maybe taking a break from the drink would be a good idea for a while.

"Not true." Ghost shook his head slowly.

"So you claim. Yet you've yet to refer to me as anything other than sergeant."

"It's fun watching you squirm thinking you have to be on your best behaviour all the time." He sent you a sly smirk, his eyes squinting just the tiniest bit.

Your jaw dropped. "I'm asking Price to reassign me. This is bullying."

"Wouldn't let Price do it." He countered, leaning in dangerously close.

"Who's Price?"

The both of you pulled back at the question and answered simultaneously. "Captain."

"Ah, okay. The one with the mutton chops, right?" One friend offered.

You nodded. "Right."

Simon huffed. "That's what you told them about Price?"

"It's his best feature."

"Christ, woman." He groaned, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Ooh, woman's a new one."

A friend volunteered in your defence. "To be fair, she's not allowed to tell us much. She usually gives us one identifying feature of every person she tells us about. So we can keep up."

"I'm assuming Soap is the fact that he's Scottish."

"Scottish with Mohawk. He gets two."

"What's Gaz?"

"Baby of the team."

"Fitting. Me?"

You stayed silent.

"What is it?"

You shook your head. "Can't say. Classified."

"Sergeant." His voice was harsh, demanding.

But you weren’t going to give in. "Lieutenant."

"I won't be insulted." His voice dropped to its familiar bored tone, as if trying to force the idea that it wouldn’t bother him.

That’s not what concerned you however. "Don't think you would be."

"Then why can't you tell me?”

"Just can't." Stellar reasoning, well done.

"I could ask them." He tilted his head in the direction of your friends, who were all watching you completely enraptured.

You didn’t back down, stare hardening at him. "Go ahead."

"Fine." He turned to the table. "What's my identifying feature?"

There was a moment of silence before someone gave in and admitted it. Traitors. "You don't have one."

There was a split second of delay before he replied. "She doesn't talk about me then?"

"Quite the opposite actually." One of your friends giggled.

Another stepped in. "Talks about you sooo much that you don't need an identifying feature. Just know who her lieutenant is."

"Besides, apparently you usually wear a mask. You have no features."

A raised finger of a counterpoint. "Arguably, the mask is the feature."

Ghost turned to you, almost smug. "You talk about me, sergeant?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Simon. You're good at what you do. I can appreciate that." You sniffed, rolling your shoulders back to force yourself to relax.

"Out loud? With your friends?"

You shot him an irritated look. "Get over yourself."

"Didn't say anything."

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "I know what you're thinking."

"I'm sure you do." He exhaled deeply, glancing away from you towards his drink.

Your own gaze moved back towards everyone else around the table. "Moving on! What else is happening with you guys?"

"Saw your parents a couple days ago. They said they didn't know you were home."

Well, that wasn’t the jollier topic you hoped to move on to.

A fake smile automatically set itself on your face at the mention of your family. "Fuck. What did you say?"

"Lied for you and said you only just got back. Might want to call them."

"I will do that. At some point.” Lie, lie, lie.

"Mhm, your sister had another baby as well. That's what? The fourth niece or nephew you haven't met?" There was a note of condescension in your friend’s voice.

You shrugged, knowing you had a decent enough reason. If your job counted as decent. "I've been busy. And it's only the second."

"We're not judging. Your parents might be though."

"Well, that's lovely to know." You slouched down in your seat. The relationship with your parents was… touchy, to say the least. Desperately seeking their approval for years had left the bond with them strained. And you being away from home so often definitely hadn’t helped the rockiness of it all.

"Also they seem convinced that you've met a military man and are going to come home engaged or married..."

Your face scrunched in disgust. "Oh, ew. What the fuck?"

Simon elbowed you harshly in the ribs. "We're not that bad."

"Share a bunk with Soap and come back to me on that." You snapped back. Your fellow sergeant was a snorer who regularly farted in his sleep. He was like your brother but man did you hate having to sleep in close proximity to him.

"Fair point.” He grumbled back to you. “But why are they under that impression?"

"They know I don't date civilians."

"Or anyone." One of your friends mumbled in her drink.

"Thank you.” You sent her a sarcastic smile. “So they think I'm after a man in uniform."

"Aren't you?" The same friend asked.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw. "In... theory."

"Not in practice though." She carried on, loving the way you were squirming.

"We know not in practice, okay? Doesn't need to be said aloud.” You spared a glance at the man beside you before adding a harsh whisper. “Especially in front of my lieutenant."

"I'm sure Simon is loving this."

"It comes with the job. Family troubles and no love life." He offered some of your words back to you from earlier, shrugging. You were glad of the support from him, even if it was only your own thoughts.

"You got any friends for her Simon? Anyone on the team you think she'd be good with?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not good enough for her."

Wait, what? Not good enough? For you? Since when did he have such a high opinion of you?

A friend of yours cooed. "That's sweet. If it helps, she's great in the sack."

You choked on the mouthful of drink you were taking, slamming your glass back down. "And how exactly would you know that?!"

"I shared a house with you in uni, babes. I remember all those guys coming out of your room with dazed smiles looking as if they'd just had the time of their life." She grinned at you slyly.

Eyes wide. Jaw dropped. Heart racing. "Oh, my god. Please shut up."

"You asked."

"I didn't need such a detailed answer!” You were ignored.

"Although you may be quite rusty at the moment. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You covered your face with your hands. "For the love of everything that is good in this world, please be quiet."

"I'm just saying. We're all friends here, aren't we?" She laughed, mainly gesturing towards your higher up.

"He's my lieutenant!"

"Wait, Simon, are you single?"

You cut in before it could go any further. "Nope! Okay! So... sister? Baby. Parents? Delusional. What else?"

Everyone around the table chuckled at your reaction but moved on anyway, much to your relief.

"They're hoping you’re home for Christmas this year."

Your hand tightened around your drink. "I hope I'm not."

"Thought you'd say that."

Paying little attention to what your friend actually said, you mumbled to yourself. "That's fucking ridiculous of them. What the actual fuck?"

"We said the same." Mumbled loud enough for them to overhear apparently.

Simon looked confused. "What's the issue there?"

You failed to answer so someone else did for you. "They uninvited her to Christmas three years ago. Hasn't been back since."

"Why would they do that?"

"Didn't approve of her lifestyle."

He turned to you. "Your... lifestyle?"

"Murderer daughter." You bit back, bitterly.

His body tightened with tension. "You're not a murderer."

"Tell them that." You snorted. "Why do they want me home now?"

"Beats us.” Your friends said in weird unison.

"Wish they'd make their mind up over whether they want to disown me or not. It's exhausting trying to keep up."

The table laughed at that. Simon did not. But did he laugh at anything?

“I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?” He looked down at you, pointing vaguely at your almost empty glass.

“Uhh… sure. Thanks.” You smiled at him, which he obviously didn’t return. After briefly asking everyone else if they wanted anything, which they declined, he stalked off in the direction of the bar.

Once he was a few paces away, one of your friends practically launched herself halfway across the table and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "He's gorgeous, babes."

You decided to play coy. "You think?"

"You don't?" Her brow was raised in disbelieving accusation.

The coy act was dropped pretty quickly. "Oh, I know he is. Just didn't think you would."

"Well, I do. And he’s definitely your type, absolutely perfect for you. Plus he so likes you."

You scoffed. "No, he doesn't."

"He fancies the pants off of you!" She insisted.

You didn’t buy it. "I can guarantee that he does not."

"He can't take his eyes off you!"

"He has a staring problem." You shrugged, it was true.

"Yeah, the problem is that he can't stop staring at you."

You thought about it. Yeah, he stared at you a lot. But he stared at everything. Didn't mean he stared at you with... feelings or whatever your friends were implying. Just that he had a staring problem.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley does not like me." It was a finalised statement, one that you believed wholeheartedly.

"Open your eyes, babes. He likes you."

"Do you like him?"

Avoid answering. "Not allowed to like him. He's my lieutenant."

"That doesn't answer our question."

Shit.

"Maybe a little." You pinched your fingers together, there was no point lying to them, and shook your head. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"Why?"

"Because, say he did like me, he'd never admit it. And I'm not going to push him into anything. I'm just glad he's talking to me and accepting my attempt at us being friends." That was true. You were loving how he wasn’t completely rejecting your friendship. He maybe wasn’t embracing it but he wasn’t pushing you away either.

"That's so sad, babes."

"Cheers.” You deadpanned. “It can't happen anyway."

"Why not?"

"Relationships aren't allowed. Makes us a liability. My captain would reassign one of us as soon as he caught wind of it. And it would be me." The thought of Price reassigning you was horrid. You loved your team more than anything.

"Simon said he wouldn't let your captain reassign you."

That was true, he did. "He was joking... I think."

"I don't think he was. That man stares at you like he's ready to eat you. It's like listening to Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen in real life!"

Groan. "You watched Dirty Dancing again, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that Simon looks at you with hungry eyes. And don't judge my love for Dirty Dancing." Two of your friends nodded in agreement with her.

"I'm not. I'm judging your favourite song choice when Love Is Strange by Mickey and Sylvia is clearly the superior song on the soundtrack." You said as you downed the last bit of your drink, thankful Simon was bringing you another one. Your mouth was dry and the initial buzz was wearing off. You’d need more alcohol if this interrogation was going to continue despite it probably not being the best idea.

"Blasphemy!” She declared before quietening herself. “Oop, we gotta be quiet now because he's coming back over. Simon!"

He froze in his tracks, a glass clasped in each large hand. "Yes?"

"Can you settle a debate for us?"

You froze too, wide-eyed. They weren't going to ask about him staring at you, were they?

"Sure...?"

You smiled at his unsure tone. Big, scary man who got shot at for a living was terrified of answering a little question.

"You've seen Dirty Dancing, yeah?"

You relaxed.

"I have."

Surprising.

"Which is a better song? Hungry Eyes or Love Is Strange?"

"Oh, I... uh-"

"Leave the poor man alone." You laughed despite being a little curious about his music taste.

"I always liked She's Like the Wind."

That shocked you to your core. "Patrick Swayze fan?"

"Used to have a mullet just like his." He placed your drink in front of you. "Here you go. You look surprised."

"I always am when you don't disappear. And when you admit to being a Patrick Swayze fan." You snorted, taking the drink from him.

"Learn to have a little faith, Sarge." He sighed as he sat down next to you again, an inch closer than before you were sure.

A burning feeling settled in your chest at the nickname. Sure, it was only a shortened version of your rank, and a common one at that, but it was something. Not sergeant. Not woman. Sarge. You decided to let it slide to see if he’d ever do it again of his own accord.

"Your name's Ghost for a reason." You sing-songed, the image of his mask flashing through your mind.

"I'll give you that. But remember, Simon here."

"Still weird."

"Still Simon."

You chewed the inside of your bottom lip before asking your next question. "Patrick Swayze?"

"He was blond."

"Like you, you mean?"

Hesitation. "Yeah."

You hummed and thought about him with a mullet. What an odd thing to admit to you. But you’d never complain. If Simon was willing to offer you little tidbits of silly information about himself, then you were going to absorb every single one and treasure them forever.

A/N: Simon with a mullet as a teen because he wanted to be Patrick Swayze when he grew up is canon to me now.

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poppitron360 · 1 month ago

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I’ve seen that some people are wondering if we’re gonna get a British!Jason Grace bc Tamara is keeping her accent in the show. Jason was raised at the Wolf House and then at Camp Jupiter so I don’t think he would, but I think he’d still have a few quirks that he picked up as a kid and I’ve already got a few headcanons relating to this:

Jason’s British accent comes out when he’s stressed or thinking about his mom and Thalia.

He uses British swears like “bugger” and “sodding”

I already hc that he drinks tea so this just makes it funnier

Has trouble pronouncing certain words in the American way, like “vitamins” and “aluminium”

When he lost his memories, he had no idea where all these things came from, and then he found Thalia and it all made sense

I hc that his mom was an actress in London until she moved to LA after Thalia was born (according to her Wiki Tamara is a Londoner), so Jason has a cockney accent.

JASON HAS A COCKNEY ACCENT.

He knows Cockney Rhyming Slang. And uses it. And nobody has ANY idea what he’s talking about.

I need the fandom to understand that Jason Grace is a little weirdo anyway so it makes sense for him to say goofy British shit all the time.

Like what do you mean "Apples and Pears" what are you talking about

Leo and Piper tease the FUCK out of him for it

I don't think he ever actually lived in the UK, but he was still raised on British kids TV shows.

At some point before his memory comes back he remembers a history fact that's not Roman or Greek, and someone asks him how he knows that

And he just gets a distinct memory of a talking Rat and a very catchy theme song

In the UK we don’t do Thanksgiving and instead just have a really big meal at Christmas. Jason didn’t really celebrate many holidays at CJ, and afterwards he mostly likes to share them with Thalia, which means big family Christmas meals.

A lot of people hc that Leo’s hispanic accent comes out when he’s vulnerable, and so much Valgrace magic can be made from their two accents coming from when they’re emotional.

Just like

It’s a thing over here to just call people “love” as a term of affection. “You alright, love?” “Hiya, love!”- which, as far as I know, isn’t something you really do in the US. It’s not even always meant romantically, but can be.

I’ve been having a hard week, but just thinking about Jason calling Leo “love” makes me smile.

Remember he’s doing all this with an American accent most of the time, so it sounds kinda silly and awkward. But we love him.

LET JASON GRACE BE SILLY

There’s probably more to be said about British!Jason and it’s something I might have to write into a few fics because it makes me so happy.

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jrow · 6 months ago

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May Prompts (19)

Day 18 here. Start from the beginning here. Day 20 here.

Weather

They are talking about the bloody weather.

Sure, he is legitimately thrilled to be outside for the first time in days (even if he is stuck in a wheelchair) and it is unseasonably warm. But still, the weather hardly warrants 10 minutes of conversation. He knows that he and Molly are both avoiding having what might be a slightly uncomfortable conversation. It is so very British.

He sighs and looks at Molly, who is still talking about how Toby loves lying in the sun. Enough is enough.

“Molly,” he interrupts, “do you know if I gave Sherlock his birthday gift? Do you know if he opened it?” There is no point in beating around the bush.

Her shoulders tighten a bit but she lets out a sigh. It’s like she’s both relieved and anxious that they are having this conversation. “You definitely gave it to him. I guess you don’t remember but you were … determined when you went over there that night.” She smiles sadly. “It was about time, if you ask me.”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t remember getting to Baker Street but … yeah, determined is the right word. I remember feeling that.” He closes his eyes. “Sherlock hasn’t said anything.”

Molly scooches down the bench so she’s closer to him. “He hasn’t opened it,” she stage whispers. She looks around the hospital garden as if making sure no one’s listening. “I popped by Baker Street yesterday—Mrs. Hudson let me in. I wasn’t snooping, I swear! Sherlock borrowed a few files from me last week and I needed them back. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to get them so I just did it myself.” She leans closer. “And your gift was still unwrapped on the coffee table.”

He rubs his hand over his face. “Okay, that answers one question. But why hasn’t he mentioned it at least? Even in his recounting of what happened that night?”

“John,” she says, reaching out and touching his leg. “He’s terrified. And, quite frankly, he has other things on his mind.”

“He feels guilty. It’s obvious.”

“Yes. Incredibly obvious.” She chuckles. “He feels guilty about your fall. You know how he can be. Somehow his silly little brain has decided it’s his fault. I suppose he thinks he should have caught you.”

She makes a good point, but he can’t help but worry it’s something else. “It could be about the gift, though. What if he deduced what’s in the box and feels guilty that he doesn’t want the same.”

She looks to the sky and sighs. “Boys,” she says quietly as if to herself before turning her gaze back towards him. “That’s stupid, John,” she says bluntly.

John leans back, a bit offended. “Come on, you know Sherlock can deduce anything.”

“Not about you!” she says, raising her hands in the air. “You’re his blindspot.” She puts her hands down and takes a deep breath. “And do you really think he’d spend time deducing a birthday gift while you were lying in a hospital bed? I saw him that morning, John. He was a mess. Kept it together on all things Rosie but all in all a mess. He’s not feeling guilty because he thinks he needs to let you down easy.”

John feels slightly chastised but also better. Molly isn’t lying about this. She believes what she’s saying. That’s the best he can hope for.

“Thanks, Molly,” he says, leaning forward to put a hand on her shoulder. “For everything.”

“I’m happy to help. I keep offering to do more with Rosie, but Sherlock refuses. At some point I do want to actually see her when she’s awake!”

He laughs. That all sounds about right.

She shrugs. “You know, I’m not sure Sherlock will get it anyways. When he opens the gift, I mean. You are trusting that present to explain quite a lot. Most people would just see it for what it is. A bit extravagant maybe, but that’s it.”

“He’ll take one look and put the pieces together.”

“Blind spot, John. And then you’ll be forced to use your words. Heaven forbid.”

“He’ll know, Molly.” He takes a breath. “I was determined. I am trying to get that determination back. And … I’m not good with words.”

“You two are a pair in that regard.” She shakes her head and then stands up. “Come on, let’s get back.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

Let me know if you want to be added or removed 😊

#johnlock #wip #may prompts 2024

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haru-dipthong · 1 year ago

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I'm learning more about "localisation discourse" in the anime fan community and my god it is so stupid. The arguments are so incestuous, like people in these discussions (both sides!) haven't ever considered what translation or localisation is outside of the context of anime and manga. Like lots of anime fans say they "hate localisation and want accurate translation" - and then the translators are like "localisation is accurate translation". Both sides are just talking past each other.

I believe that the translators are doing nothing wrong - if a translation reads naturally and conveys essentially the same meaning as the original, that’s a good and accurate translation. The “anti-localisation” crowd are abusive and awful. But both sides of the discourse are terrible at communicating.

First of all, the word “localisation”, as it is understood outside the weeb community, means “adapting a work or product for use by a different population than the original (usually a population of a different geographical region)”. As a programmer, I deal with localised text in our product - for example we have different localisations for Australian english text (en-AU) vs British english text (en-GB) vs US english text (en-US). Yet, many anime/manga/etc translators call themselves localisers - what variety of english are they supposedly localising the content into? Probably US english, but it’s certainly not specifically americanised a lot of the time (e.g. Kimetsu no Yaiba isn’t being americanised in any translations I’m aware of), and the days of jelly donuts are far, far behind us. Erasing japanese cultural references is no longer "more marketable", and hasn't been for a long time. Most anime translations (including the ones that the “anti-localisation” crowd complain about) are simply translations into an international variety of english, and decidedly NOT localisations.

So if the “anti-localisation” crowd aren’t complaining about localisation, what are they complaining about? They often say they want “accurate translations”, but this isn’t true either. An “accurate translation” is a translation that simply conveys all the information from the original. おはよ！→ “Sup bro” can be an accurate translation, but I’m sure the anti-localisers wouldn’t agree (おはよ and sup bro are both just phatic greetings, we don’t need to specify morning unless it’s not obvious from the visuals that it’s morning). What they actually want is a translation that “sounds right”. This may seem impossible to deliver since it is so unspecific, but I think it’s actually quite simple - in short, overly-weeby translations have become their own variety of english, which I’ll call en-WB. Often fan translations are in this specific dialect because the fan translators haven’t studied actual translation and simply know what “sounds right” in en-WB.

For example, these anti-localisers often say they are annoyed that honorifics are removed. To a regular old translator with no knowledge of the anime discourse, this is very silly because -chan and -kun are not present in any common variety of english, so why would they appear in the translation? To divorce this discussion from anime briefly, a very good translator who is translating a full length Japanese novel would adapt the relationship/hierarchy dynamic via speech patterns and phrasing, rather than using the honorifics directly. But the anti-localisers don’t want a brilliant translation into international english, they want a passable translation into en-WB.

Both sides of the discourse are misunderstanding each other, using dumb arguments that completely miss the point. Anti-localisers are saying shit like ”fan translations are better!!” which really means “fan translations sound like how I expect the translation to sound, and pro translations do not sound like that” which means “fan translations are translating into the english dialect I expect and pro translations do not”.

Meanwhile pro translators are saying “pro translators are fans too!! And how could an amateur be better? We studied to do this professionally!”. But this is flawed logic - the lack of formal training in translation is ironically what enables fan translators to translate into en-WB correctly. Pro translators of course could translate into en-WB if they wanted to/were told to, but they don’t - they want to make the translation as accessible as possible to all viewers, meaning that making the language natural and internationalised is the correct course of action.

To me as a half-japanese person who has grown up with smatterings of anime from an early age, anime is just cartoons to me. It's just another tv show, there's nothing special about it. So when I talked about translation as I have in previous posts, I was basically unaware of this stupid discourse and was simply discussing translation as it exists outside of the anime/manga industry - rewriting a work as if it were originally written in the target language. In principle I don't believe anime should be treated any different to other tv shows when being translated, and I personally hate en-WB, it's like nails on a chalkboard to me. But that's what a bunch of anime fans want, and that's fine. They can have their (in my eyes) terrible translations, and I can have my (in their eyes) terrible translations.

If we were talking about translating literature or live action tv or news articles instead of anime we wouldn't be getting any of this discussion. I think it's almost entirely the fault of anime's history with fan translations and heavy handed cultural erasure by 4kids etc that's led to the current state of things. And unfortunately those things still influence how people think about anime translations now. I just want to approach anime translations like I would any other translation - but the existence of this discourse adds an annoying layer over it all.

#localisation #localization #anime #anime and manga #japanese language #translation #japanese #langblr #jimmy blogthong #official blog post

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moth-eats-paper · 6 months ago

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My complete thoughts on TMA through 93-200

MAG Thoughts on ep 93-200

THERE'S A CAT

John's hand still hurts from the cult of the flame

There's also a missing calliope. I think thats how you spell it

The institute is a death trap.

Both John and Elias are vessels of “The Eye” and can make people spill their guts Gertrude was also one up until Elias killeClayr. So that's fun

GORGEY MIGHT KNOW/BE A PART OF ANOTHR GOD?!?!?!

LAST WORDS OF A CORPSE? WHAT DO YOU MEAN GORGEY?

Gorgeys not ok

Nor is Marten

I quite like the new girl shes funny

Is anyone in mag alive lol

Well idk John why does Elias do anything.

IT'S THE THING GIRL DOLL PLASTIC THING OMG

(I have no idea what i was trying to type here^)

Tim and Marten are not okay especially marten

Spooky doll thing changed her mind apparently

And Michael (the spooky one) use,d to be an assistant of Gertrude funnnn

Ep 100 time baby :3) No one in the institute knows how to interviewnoople except John and I'm pretty sure that's because of “the eye”

The spself-cannibalismThe spiders are weird

Why is this woman so calm about a ghost woman who's on fire burning her (poor marten he's very confused)

Tim is speaking to a maniac

Melanie (I think it's her) is speaking to a man who keeps getting side tracked

THE FUCK YOU MEAN YOU GOT OUT OF THE SPIRAL AND WENT TO DINNER

The poor detective

SPOOKY MAN NAMED PETER JUST APPEARED FROM NO WERE AND I THINK HE'S FROM THE UNKNOWN?!??

SPOOKY DOLL WOMEN!

THE COFFINS BACK

“Sarah wanted to use nails but I talked her out of it because I'm a good friend!” YOUR A MANNEQUIN (I love that line so much lol)

Oh wax love that

Mmm skin

Don't skin John please

ARE YOU GOING TO MOISTURIZED JOHN AND THEN SKIN HIM?

MICHAEL HOLY SHIT HE'S BACK

oh he's going to kill John

Revenge?

Oh dear he doesn't want to be Michael

MICHAEL BECAME THE DELUSION

Oh he's making a statement

MICHAEL SHELY

Oh god Gertrude

Unrelated but my cat has decided to try and kill me

PETER LUCAS IS ALSO THERE

Oh god Michael Shelley is very dumb

Only just know getting scared? What the fuck

Doors. fun

I can't even spell whatever that is

THE SPIRAL

Of course she didn't care

Just don't trust Gertrud

The Worker of clay?

His laugh is silly

Oh oh dear

Oh dear the doors not working

OH JESUS

HELEN

MICHAEL BECAME HELEN

HELENS GOING TO HELP?

HELENS THE DISTORTION NOW

So I guess the distortion only wants what that person wanted

Why does Elias just agree with the person who's trying to kill him

I think this man has bugs in his skin

He does

John can suddenly read French and then can't

I LOVE MARTIN

Melanie keeps trying to kill people

(People being Elias)

Pig episode (like actual pigs not the police)

Oh the pig no no like you sir

Oh god I guess this pig is a weird thing

THE CIRCUS?

Oh god not more circuses

Oh dear I think the pig has decided to eat clowns now

Oh self cannibalism

Whelp the pig ate someone

Loud sound

The eyes doing it's thing

JOHN DOING THE THING WITH THE EYE

Tim keeps scaring people

Tims not ok

OMG TIM STATEMENT

Tims brother went missing

I don't think it's Tim's brother

Whelp he's gone

Oh clowns know

OH DEAR CLOWNS

I don't think that's your brother Tim

Oh blood

Oh dead clown

Oh no more skin .

Oh famous clown

Tim and Elias drama

Oh we're in China

Oh creepy opening

I wonder. Is this in Chinese? I know that the eye can allow you to read other languages in order to obtain more knowledge. Even if you never spoke that language or were able to read it you just suddenly are able to.

Oh screams

Nevermind I'm pretty sure it's in English cause it seems the person writing it is a British soldier

Does he have the black plague?

OH DEAD BODYS IN THE WATER

Oh-

This is a sad man

“True and total war”

GOD DAMMIT NO CIRCUS

HE CAN READ MANDARIN AND AND CHINESE NOW (cause of the eye)

IT WAS FROM 2004 NOT 2014

Oh the proper one's are in America

Space station time

I wonder if this is the same space station as the one Gertrude read

I think she kept talking about it in one of the statements well more specifically the guy who it is from

We love Melanie (even though she keeps trying to kill Elias but she has a good reason)

FAIRCHILD IS BACK

IT IS THE SAME SPACESHIP BUT JUST A DIFFERENT GUY

Because the one Gertrude read was the isolation guy. This is about the other two people who were on the ship

Oh god the space weird space hands are back I think

Oh blood

Oh he's bleeding

Oh god he's just going to let himself die

Old screaming things

Don't envy the isolation guy he had a really shit time

Whelp now he's in limbo space

OH SOMETHING'S BLOCKING THE STARS

Oh deep thoughts

Melanie is thinking deep

She's skeptical of stuff

Oh dear

IS HE STUCK IN SPACE

Viscera I think is how to pronounce her name?

MARTIN HAS A CRUSH ON JOHN?

Viscera and Melanie are gossiping and I'm here for it

Oh performance review

OH GOD ELIAS

JESUS CHRIST ELIAS STOP LEAVE POOR MELIAINE ALONE

WHAT DID HE DIE OF

WHY DID YOU GIVE HER THE KNOWLEDGE OF HIM DYING

THAT'S TERRIFYING

He can just make her watch her dad's death!

I want texas toast I'm going to go make some

JOHNS IN AMERICA

Whelp he's being followed by a police officer

And Jared's “death”

GERTRUD WAS ARRESTED FOR BREAKING INTO A MORGUE

He just has to read statements to make him feel better

A screaming oven lovely

OH THERE'S A FIRE

OH A TRAINS ON FIRE

What do you mean you'd burn them?

John is better!

OH SHIT IT'S THE POLICE

WHAT IS THAT ACCENT

OH MY GOD ITS THE VAMPIRE HUNTER

YIPPEE MARTIN

I fucking hate Shakespeare

Lovely more masks

Poor Tim

And Melanie

AWW

OH SHIT

SOMETHINGS HAPPENING

PETER LUCAS IS BACK

Lucas seams so silly

Viscera gets really excited about her reading and I love that about her

Mmm more statements

I'm pretty sure John just asked for a statement because he was starting to feel sick lol

MORE VAMPIRES (I think) YIPPEE

His accent is kinda hard to understand

BODYS IN BOX

Spoopy people

Love how she calls the vampire hunter old man

Oh bodys on table

Silent screamers

OH WATER

Staby stab

Oh she killed him

OH SPOOKY THING

HAHAH DOLL THING (why is his voice kinda-)

More Marten :3

This girl sounds like an asshole

THIS PERSONS TRANS TDZSDHUGDZ

That is a long ass name

“Spiders are eating” PFF

Oh don't walk into people's jaws

Mmm Japanese spider movies

YOU HAD TO TRY AND CONVINCE YOURSELF HE ONLY HAD TWO ARMS

Oh spoopy

Oh they found A Way to distract Elias

A leitner?

JARED

Jared is cool

Jared's mom was an ass

Hmmm more things to kill and torture everyone

I keep forgetting meat is in this

Jared is so sad

MURDER

YIPPEE VISCERA

We're back in America and they found a bomb and the taxidermy or what's left of it

John and Tim drama

YIPPEE TIM A JOHN ARE OK

Oh tunnels

Bomb time

The meats back

LITENER

No more arm

And now he's in the water

PFFF

HELEN

Aww

YIPPEE SPOOPY

Meeting timeee

Gurtrud tape time

Wolfgang?

Puppets?

I think this is from a older time in europe because of the writing and how it is worded

DON'T GO

Mmm more robotic things

OH GOD A STAGE

Mmm birbs

BLOOD

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CURL YOUR LEGS INTO A FIST

Funsies

Oh he's being protective of martennnnn

PLANS

SECRET PLANSSS

JOHN STATEMENT HDHJDGKDVJHK

Awww john

ITS LIGHTENERS

Melines to relatable

MELANIE STATEMENT

MARTIN NFSUSSTUDIY

TIMM

Aww goodbye Jarey

mmm masquerade

MARTIN!!

“sorry Elias I can't hear you there's a DOOR in the way” I love marten

Hehehe bomb

Oh god marten don't die

OH GOD THAT'S NOT WAX WORK

MARTIN NO

ELIAS FUCK YOU

Uh oh

SILLY MUSIC

WHAT'S HAPPENING

Mmm nothing is everything and everything is something

God what is happening

EYE THINGGGG

TIMMM

TIM SET OFF THE BOOM

What the fuck is this

He's not responseuve

Oh eye always watching

ELIAS STATEMENT?

(I'm listening to this for a second time)

Hehehe sad man

Oh dear

THE ELBOWS DON'T WORK

The sky?

Ma ma that's not edible

I don't want the box to sing

NOT THE COFFIN

Oh tunnel

Hmmm blood

TRAIN TIME

Hmmm watching

WHERE'D SHE GO

Oh dig

DOOR

Ants?

He screams

Who are we watching?

MARTIN

What

ARE TIM AND DAISY DEAD?

Bye Eliasss

PFFFF

Lucassss

YIPPEE PETER

NO TIM AND DAISY ARE DEAD

Season 4 babyyy

Poor marten

This is so sad

WHAT

WHAT DO YOU MORE GOODBYE

First actual episode of season 4 :3

Oh?

WHO IS THIS

WHAT

WHERE

YOU SAW JOHN IN A DREAM?

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU

Oh statement

He sees how people die funnn

“What am I?” I ask that often

Ship into the middle of nowhereeeee

MEMENTO THING

Snakes?

Nevermind it's death

Why ya calm

Did you accidentally kill a bunch of people

Nope

YOU GOT A GUN?

YOU KILLED THE CAPTAIN!????

OH GOD YOU KILLED EVERYONE

This is this Oliver guy

SPIDERS

That's funnn

Oh boy

Melanie (I think it's her)might have scared him off

JOHNS AWAKE?

Zombieeee

I keep sending the homophobic vase because I can

oh no it was gorge

AND VISCERA

Magic tape?

JOHN!

HIII JOHN

6 MONTHS

He's very confused and I can see why

Hehehe eye thing

Statement timeeee

YOU CUT SOMEBODY'S HANDS?

I think this dudes on something

Maybe

Idk any more everything is odd

YOUR BEING FOLLOWED MX STATEMENT PERSON

This person's a little silly

Awww I love John

Even though he keeps making have deep thoughts

THEY CAN'T FIND DAISY'S BODY?

Oh oh god marten are you okay buddy

Aww

He miss his boyfriend (I'm desperately waiting for them to get together)

W E B yippee

Oh god meline she's very traumatized

Oh that hurt

OH MY GOD THEY'RE GETTING ATTACKED BY THINGS

(Not at the moment)

I think everyone's losing it

HE JUST CALLED HIMSELF THE ARCHIVIST NOT “Johnathan Sims head archivist” JUST THE FUCKING ARCHIVEST

EVERYONE IS EITHER DEAD, PART OF SOMETHING, FUCKING LOOSING IT OR ALL THREE.

Real honestly

It's always weird MX statement person

Is the site sentient

OH DEAD

Is this a thing of the eye?

No it was the web

Oh he's a fish kabob

I can't tell if this is the buried, flesh or end

BAGPIPES

IT'S THE PIPER

it's the slaughter

Cause everyone slaughtered each other

Pfff

Eye thing

Mmm

OH GOD

126 is the distortion

Awwww

MARTEN

The recorder is silly

DOESeter

Idk if I liself-esteemt he still will

Of course he's worried about his boyfriend

ITS THE COFFEIN

OH MY GOD HE CAN DO STUFF

He had killed the thing

Lot of truck

DAISYS ALIVE BTW

We have bone Turner

SPACE PART 3

Oh god that sounded ow

YIPPEE

I can't really update during school

PFFF The eye is just my brain absorbeing things cause it's never anything useful

THE TAPE RECORDER IS JUST A SINGLE FOR KNOWLEDGE

GARRY

Garry reference

God damnit John stop being creepy to strangers

The computers are eating people again

SIMON FAIRCHILD

Mmmm cult's

MELINES GOING I GOUGE HER EYES OUT SO SHE CAN LEAVE THE EYE

oh god

WHAT HAPPENED TO DAISY JUST NOW?!?

I DIDN'T WANT HER TO DIE

Oop angey Martin

Oh dear

Peter Lucas is an asshole

Into the lonely

PFFF

LOVE THAT

John is so smart

THAT'S SOME OF THE GAYEST SHIT EVER

Oh god the eye opens

They gay

SEASON 5 BABY

PFFF

Aww

Stop being depressed

TF you mean I'm faceless

PFFF

Ah the not Sasha

Oh it pissed of John

“Ceaseless watcher turn your gaze on this wretched thing” HE SAID THE THING

Martens broken

They broke Marten

I think it the lonely

Oh god he's getting relatable

HE JUST KEEPS HATING THE CHAIRS 😭

“I am marten blackwood and I'm not alone anymore” HAD ME SOBBING

It's the bone man idk what his name is but I hate his voice

Helen just wants to have fun

Who the fuck is doctor David

I didn't realize they could get any gayer

THEY ACTUALLY FELT TIRED AND HUNGRY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN LIKE FUCK IF I KNOW

AND THAT FREAKY PIRATE AND WEB WOMEN ARE THERE

(They also just like feel asleep lol)

Doctor doe Jane is silly

Silly

HIII Helen!!!

“You've always said you were Helen!”

“I am! I also ate her… it's really simple if you don't think about it”

THEY SAID I LOVE YOU

George and Melina are backkkk

And Meline fucking slays

The gays are arguing

DOSE ANNABELLE OWN THE TAPES?!?!

Christ that is scary

“Shocker, I have self esteem issues. Not the point” I am Martin

This is adorable and sad

1 MORE EPISODE

Oh god John

Oh he's pleading

OH MY GOD

HOLY SHIT

SHIT

OH DEAR

IS JON OK

That's scary

Statement

This doesn't sound like a tape

Oh god

He's going to die

I'm going to cry

He's going to kill him

I'm actually going to start crying

Oh god

Simon?

#hello tumblr #i love my dead gay son #:3 #the magnus archives #tma podcast #tma #the magnus archives podcast #i love marten (i relate to him a little to much)#i love the magnus archives #paper says stuff

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unhetalia · 7 months ago

Note

well. I guess it depends on what relationship head canons you have for ukus if they ever truly got together?

I had to think about this (nap) because I realised just how LITTLE established relationship UKUS I've actually consumed. I think I've read a lot more established RusAme than established UKUS. Maybe because I'm incredibly picky about the latter dynamic? Anyway - because I haven't read a lot of it, I had to think really hard about what it would look like.

I personally don't think there would be obvious differences between Arthur-and-Alfred-as-friends and Arthur-and-Alfred-as-lovers, but that still means talking about how I see Arthur and Alfred as friends.

As friends, banter is a huge part of Alfred and Arthur's dynamic. A long time ago, there was probably real bitterness in their jabs. Over time, it becomes a softer thing. (One of the songs I associate with UKUS is "So American" by Olivia Rodrigo, because I absolutely believe that's one of the things Arthur always says to Alfred - "you're so American", smirking or laughing, no sharpness or rebuke in his words.)

Arthur grew up with a lot of siblings and he's quick witted - but Alfred has amazing memory and can bring up anything anyone has done that he's witnessed, and is really good at knowing exactly what someone finds embarrassing or infuriating. They have fun riling each other up - this is what leads to them trying to scare each other silly every Halloween.

As a couple, this doesn't change. (It works for them, especially since both of them have a hard time expressing themselves sincerely.) The importance of this aspect of their dynamic is the fact that Alfred doesn't get offended by any of Arthur's comments - not the stuff about himself, or his dry, unimpressed observations about everything around him. He finds it funny, and Arthur thrives on that. Arthur has suffered a lot from being tied to people who found him wanting in some way, but Alfred is one of the few people who actively enjoys and seeks out Arthur's company and doesn't seem to find him wanting in some way.

The second thing is they have a good balance of things they enjoy doing together, and things they're dragging each other to. Alfred enjoys a lot of British media and food (once again, something that's more important to Arthur than he can say). Arthur enjoys McDonald's, and doesn't mind eating there when Alfred gets a craving. But Arthur doesn't enjoy the wilderness in the way Alfred does - is a bit ... discomfited at how there's huge swathes of American land that are completely wild. Alfred drags him to these places, for hiking and camping, and Arthur re-discovers a part of himself that he'd lost in England's industrialisation. Meanwhile, Arthur really pushes Alfred to appreciate the depth of English and European history. It allows for both comfort and growth in their relationship.

The third thing - Alfred is high energy, and so curious about the world. I absolutely believe Alfred has a few doctorates under his belt and invents and fixes things in his spare time. While I don't see Alfred working for the government, I can sometimes see him working for NASA. He's constantly tinkering or jotting things down. He's actually incredibly cerebral.

Arthur is physical. He never stopped sword fighting, and practices martial arts. He runs, and goes to the gym, does boxing (I've mentioned these things in my headcanon about England's appearance before). But when he's not doing those things, he does things that quiet his mind. He crochets or knits. Something repetitive and soothing. Meditative.

They can sit for hours in the same room, Arthur knitting while Alfred has blueprints spread over their coffee table. And its peaceful, and you don't think it even matters if the other person is there or not, but Arthur has to go to London for a week to sort something out and Alfred can't get anything done at home and has to go to the office every day.

HAVE I EVEN SAID ANYTHING IN THIS ASK. Basically Alfred and Arthur after having sex is incredibly similar to them before having sex. The act of sex changes everything and nothing all at once. But their relationship is a lot of being able to feel appreciated where you never felt appreciated before, a lot of being able to do things together that you love, and doing things together that you hate but somehow still helps you grow as a person, and also being able to do nothing together.

#ukus #usuk #aph america #aph england #hetalia #theyre actually a boring relationship bc once they get there theyre married for ten years #like immediately they fuck and then settle into utter domesticity #their sex life is spicy as fuck tho #-#reply.#england/america.#england.#america.#file: canon b #file: defunct headcanon

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thecoolerliauditore · 5 days ago

Note

third time getting this ask deleted, i don't think the universe wants my thoughts on fem grian out there :(

i don't even actually have any problem with this interpretation. it's just both very interesting and silly to me. there is a non-insignificant amount of fanwork that emphasizes grian as having a small, thin waist and general petite frame. nothing wrong with that, but deeply amusing as someone who generally doesn't see the c!lifers' human builds as significantly different from their irl counterparts. starting to suspect people don't share my love for middle-aged guys who look like middle-aged guys... maybe i watch too much british comedy.

ultimately i do agree that it's due to grian being more uke-viable than the other two in mumscarian. which is interesting, because you could argue that mumbo shares a lot of the same "effeminate" traits (higher-pitched voice, not a hulking brute force, sneaky and conniving, young, skinny?) which just proves the power of the Guy with Suit and Moustache branding. exceptions to this are when mumbo gets to have a nice long dress, but i still think the way grian gets feminized is different to that.

something else i find interesting is that grian's deception and manipulation (and power?) is sometimes the sole reason for his feminization getting pushed from generic twink to femboy/literal woman. which is something that i don't think i can do justice pontificating about. i mean this less in a "that's kind of misogynistic way" (well, sort of) and more like, ok what kind of psychosexual game of telephone is happening here. martyn or scott don't really get this treatment, despite (imo) both being valid contenders for evil womanification.

does any of this matter? absolutely not. men shipped in yaoi pairs will get interestingly gendered one way or another. it just so happens that a very specific domino effect lead to grian getting hit with the twinkification beam at a disproportional rate to the others. the only factor that is unique to grian in getting twinkified and feminized is the 3px skin. all others are shared (gremlin-ness, shortness, voice, cuteness, youth, being evil?, sneaky, manipulative) ergo it really is the 3px skin difference. thank you for your time.

also sorry if it seemed like i was assuming you were a grian fan, i legitimately wasn't lol i just sent it to you because of aforementioned gender mentions and you general Goodness in talking about fandom meta.

last thing i'll say is i mournfully agree with the menswear section. i do wish that we could combat more against the "men's fashion/design is boring" sentiment in general fandom. character involving menswear is such an untapped treasure trove that it's baffling to me. alas.

oh please don't worry I was just trying to clarify I wasn't knowledgeable on grian, I love discussions like this! I just didn't want to like. yap a whole bunch and then hit you with the "ok so I don't actually watch Grian all that much" (like I genuinely had completely forgotten about Mother Spore)

"psychosexual game of telephone" is very real and I think I'm going to adopt that into my vocabulary from now on. Scott's name being here is interesting because I actively try not to bring him up in every discussion nowadays, but I do think he is also feminized in fanon but in a way very different to Grian.

My Scott design at least I think you could make that argument for since I based alot of him off of my favourite pretty boys/bishounen, with the eyelashes visible and whatnot, but I tried to at least make it somewhat clear that he is a Man. He even kind of got hit with the detwinkification ray the more I drew him.

And idk fanon Scott is like. It's own brand of fascinating to me because I used to see a lot of people claim he was a "fem gay man" and I was like???????? is he???????????? I suppose his masculinity is a very queer brand of masculinity but it still very much reads as masculinity to me. Very "cis gay man" as he says himself. When I see the words "fem gay man" I am not imagining Scott Smajor, that much is for sure.

There's also just not that many Scott artists relative to the rest of the characters but what art I do see of him tends to lean either anime twink. Weight and body type is also a factor here I think is worth exploring but aughhhh shutting up about Scott. Point is I do think he gets his fair share of feminization but it's complicated with him cus you have to factor in him being The Gay One (and the associations people have with that) and his whole persona being very Cute 🌺

But yes yes anyway I do think Mumbo's moustache does him wonders, as does the CC's reputation for being a giant.

And while none of this Really matters I also don't think any of our lives Really matter and I think these trends are interesting so. We may as well have fun studying them. It's times like these where I wish I could have the brazen-ness to just yoink people's art and put them next to their takes about the character to really, really get in there but I'd feel rude 😔

FTR re the whole nothing wrong with it thing I agree! And you can look at this silly thing I drew for April Fools for my opinion on fanon designs and body types. I am a massive hypocrite in a lot of ways and I think sometimes you do just gotta break down the biases that make you view a certain set of traits a certain way and go. Wow okay that's interesting. and just kinda leave.

My Pearl design for example has some misogynistic implications -- hell, all of my designs for the women lifers are on the shorter side. My Pearl is shorter than my Bdubs and Joel who have entire gags surrounding them about being short! CC Pearl is very much not cute moe anime girl, I turned her character into cute moe anime girl. And I'd do it any day. Minus one point for me in the feminism and body positivity categories 😔 and I'd do it again.

It's whatever man. Humans have biases built on millions of years of history and people also have their own individual beliefs and preferences influenced by that history. and I think seeing that show through people's minecraft youtuber designs like little bits and pieces of worldviews is REALLY COOL. and while I'm also a biased human being who has my tastes I genuinely do think this is really fascinating.

Ok sorry this really got away from me can you tell I like this topic lmao. I just think it's really cool when you get unlimited perspectives on a certain set of traits applied onto a very interpretable design like a minecraft skin

Fist bump on the menswear btw. Makes me wanna draw that self-indulgent idea I had awhile back where I just use the lifers as my fashion dolls. Idk I just think Etho would kill in some Japanese techwear

#asks

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oscconfessions · 6 months ago

Note

i forgot to bring my headphones with me today so here ‘ s me doing an entire essay about why i simp for taco ( ii ) to pass the time instead ! ( i doubt anyone ‘ s gonna read this full thing unless they ‘ re THAT dedicated to osc confessions 😭 )

first of all , she ‘ s BRITISH ?! i mean come on people BRITISH and not in like the toilet type of british with the loud ahh shouting ( don ‘ t get me wrong i love toilet he ‘ s so silly and all but ) NONONONO taco has the HOT british stereotype like something about the way she talks … her voice literally sounds like silk it ‘ s actually so freaking gorgeous dude

another really cool thing i like is her personality flip , like something about how random and unexpected it was to see taco turn out to be a genius and not some stupid idiot is just so cool like my mouth fell to the floor at that and then in season 2 when she got her first reappearance i squealed so LOUDDDDDD and i ‘ m not even kidding when i see her i giggle and kick my feet ( if i ‘ m not in public … when i am i just giggle internally instead 😭 )

uhhhh i love her british - ness … that ‘ s kinda the same thing as saying i love her voice because of the british accent but uh i love that she ‘ s a british little thing who could probably change her voice in an instant considering she literally pretended to be a whole different person with a whole different voice in season 1 😭

also she looks SO FREAKING HOT WITH THAT INVISIBILITY BOW LIKE WHAT THAT IS MY FAVORITE FEATURE ON HER ENTIRE DESIGN AND I ‘ M SO MAD SHE ONLY HAD IT FOR LIKE 3 EPISODES , ONE THAT SHE DIDN ‘ T EVEN SHOW UP IN FOR MORE THAN A MINUTE AND A HALF 😭 i could actually rant for hours on how hot her design is and i will considering i still have plenty of time to pass as of rn

like everything about her design is so cute and beautiful and literally every other word used to describe a good looking woman because when i tell you that taco is SO FINE i mean that she is SO FINE .

alright well i think i ‘ ve written enough to break tumblr as a whole so yeah there ‘ s plenty more points i can make in this essay but i ‘ m bored and i ‘ ve officially passed enough time on tumblr so yeah taco is hot rant concluded

also hell no i ‘ m not going anonymous because i have absolutely zero shame in calling taco the hottest object to exist in the osc .

anyways thank you for coming to my TED talk folks !

#confession #/ii #/ii/taco #down horrendous

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staghunters · 1 year ago

Text

Yellowjackets Girl Loser Standoff

Can't add polls to reblogs, but @mercedesrollinballer was talking of one to settle this matter. (@mistysnat started it all)

Yellowjackets! Alive, but failing at every instance. Who's doing it the worst? Your pick! Arguments for each are under the Read, but if you are sure of your losing dog, then vote here!

PROPAGANDA UNDER THE CUT

Taissa Turner

Teen Eats dirt and is not aware of her shadow-self to an embarassing degree. Sets up an expedition to get to civilization with only a bit of rations and a compass, and nearly gets her gf killed (they don't find help btw). Her rushed funeral for clown Jackie indirectly causes the cannibalism. "You ate her face, Tai" and she didn't even remember it.

Adult Hires a vague hitman to spy on her surviving teammates because what are social skills? Has a Gorgeous wife and stable home and then chooses politics. Leaves her wife in a coma and her son with his gran to hitchhike to her ex because yea her evil double said so and that is definitely legit. Claims to be a skeptic about rituals until she is in the clear and can participate on the safe side lol. Marries a rock?? Is not getting that re-election.

Shauna Shipman

Teen Thinks screwing her bestie's beard is what will solve things. Related: is pregnant while stuck in the woods. Related: did not raise the baby to hunt down Jeff like she said she would. Verbal communication? We bottle up our emotions and then write them down on paper for everyone to read. Did a silly voice while playing around as the vessel for hunter guy in the seance. EVERY SECOND OF HER IN THE SHED WITH POPSICLE JACKIE. Throws a fit over not being crowned cannibal queen.

Adult Totally living her dream life. Thinks a posh british accent is sexy in her furniture store roleplay. Got in a fender bender with some guy, cheated with him, then murdered him and hid his body. Still hallucinates her bestie hanging around. Can only seem to find some joy in her life through Violence (maybe skip the sex-therapist and go looking for one that deals with anger issues). Thought that she Had to murder a baby goat when nobody said a word about that. Got hunted lol.

Misty Quigley

Teen Unhinged from the start. No social skills. Has the hots for her gay coach. Destroys the flight recorder because "uwu then people will need me" and not think about the consequences. People ditch her for the most part after first-aid isn't needed anymore (happy now, Misty?). Throws psychedelics in the stew (banned from kitchen). Snitches on Jackie not taking part in the saying thanks, which sparks the fight with Shauna, which gets Jackie dead, despite Jackie being one of the few (maybe only?) people to be nice to her. Speaking of, gets a new bestie and has her falling off the shit cliff. Cannot read the room during a baby shower. Theater kid. Has no cast-appointed middle name, but the fic-appointed one is "fucking" Adult Works in elderly care so she can munchausen someone in case she need a mood boost. Forces herself in Natalie's life. Is on true-crime reddit. Her only friend is a parrot. Has a murder basement that she doesn't actually use for murder. Reads trashy romance novels. Overshares on a first date. Hangs out with a dude and lets him reduce her talents to a shrivel. Infiltrates a cult for shits and giggles. "Misty, you actually killed somebody" KILLS HER FRIEND. SHE ACCIDENTALLY KILLS HER FRIEND

#yellowjackets #place your votes now!#polls #taissa turner #shauna shipman #shauna sadecki #misty quigley

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twopoppies · 10 months ago

Note

Hey Gina! I don’t exactly know how to talk about this so i apologise if it’s worded weird, but I wanted to talk about polari! :) Also want to quickly preface by saying A.) I am a part of the LGBTQ+ community, B.) while I’m not English, I am Scottish (Glasgow) and we use some of the same slang as (specifically Northern) England & C.) I have a lot of hetero English friends who know absolutely nothing about polari.

(Quickly before I start as u/ppl may find this annoying; I’ve said Scottish separately as a lot of Scottish ppl, myself included, don’t like being referred to as English/British as majority of us are currently wanting & trying to gain independence from the U.K. lol & I included British instead of just Scotland/England as I’m not sure if it’s used anywhere else in great britian/the UK - please say if it is! :D )

I’m not sure if you’ve seen this too but I see quite a lot of people saying that Louis solely knowing/using polari speech is proof/semi-proof of him being queer or knowing queer history - I have to completely disagree with this.

Polari is used very commonly (some examples I can think of off the top of my head are bevvy, lallies and naff as I use them quite a lot.) in day-to-day conversation in scotland/england (as I mentioned, I have hetero english friends and they use polari ALL THE TIME, like they use only refer to a alcohol/drinks as bevvy, and have no absolutely no idea that it IS in fact polari..). People use it without even knowing what it is, especially those who are lower/working class and/or neds/chavs (which Louis seems to use as? Or want to be perceived as?) and are more likely to use slang. I guarantee you that if you were to go down to England (especially the north) and asked what bevvy meant, they’d almost 100% be able to tell you what means - but they won’t know the origins of the word, they’d just think it’s slang (they probably wouldn’t even know it’s used in Scotland too LOL).

I’ve seen absolutely no other scottish/english/british person talk about this so I feel like majority of the people speaking about polari are Americans (not all & not only, of course, but I feel like they majority of larries are American? Haha) who don’t actually use it or understand it’s use in modern day England/Scotland/U.K. and that’s why they’re saying that he must be queer to use it because they think that it’s not used anymore when it actually is! :)

I’m so sorry if this is a complete jumble of words, I’m absolutely horrible at writing my thoughts down hahah! I pray you understand what I’m trying to say. I hope this isn’t coming across as rude or mean. I’m not meaning it that way at all. Also, this isn’t meant to be a dig at Americans/non-scottish/english/great British folk either, it’s completely normal that you wouldn’t know this! :)

Sorry again hahaha I’ve been thinking about this for a really long time and have been dying to get this off my chest !! + I haven’t used tumblr in years so if the layout/format(??) is weird, apologies for that too, I’m also on mobile :( Thank u (if u do) for reading my long ass ramble lol :D I just wanted to shed some light on this.

Hi, honey. I think assuming Louis’ sexuality only based on him being aware of/using Polari is pretty silly. As you say, straight people in your part of the world use certain words regularly without being aware of it.

As always, I think one has to take many behaviors and actions into consideration when wondering if Louis (or anyone) is signaling. There’s a difference between using certain words that have become common, and knowing what Polari is. Him wearing that brand goes hand in hand with many instances of him wearing clothing that sent a message (for example, wearing the All Out, Queen’s Surf, and Rainbow Apple logo shirts). At that time, he seemed to be very calculated about what messages he sent through clothing. I think Polari was one of many instances of Louis signaling being a part of the community. But I’d never look at that as an isolated instance and think that.

#coded clothing #Polari

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spaceshipsoutthepool · 10 months ago

Text

Sulk in the Sun🍹

Ao3 link

While it’s quite out of character to do so; Penny loses her cool and storms off. Although it isn’t ladylike to admit that. Brains comes to join her by the pool. And of all people, is the one to try and talk her out of potential leaving International Rescue.

Boom! last fic of the year bay-beeee. Happy 2024

Story under the cut for those who prefer to read here

Lady Penelope was never a sun chaser. Or comfortable in great heat. Much as she was trying to relax. Forcing herself to relax might be the more operative term.

"Oh, I'd much rather be wrapped up in layers. With a walk on the heath any day.” she thought moodily, looking out over the ocean again. rather than facing the sunlight like the fellow tourists topping up their tans. “Bring on winter. It's probably a lovely chilly autumn day back home!”

Around the pool (but not actually in it), holiday makers and expats alike were turning over and over for an even bronze. Penelope privately thought most were cooking themselves to walnuts; all oiled brown and wrinkly. She decided she probably looked silly; sat in the near shade wearing a cover wrap and a large sun hat. And then decided she didn't care. Not particularly. Just like she didn’t care for this resort. And she didn’t care about International Rescue. No, not at all.

Penelope again tried to put ‘the day job’ from her mind. And tried to focus on just the sea breeze coming over the cliff side. The blue ocean. and blue almost cloudless sky stretching on for ever and ever. And somewhere out there, just beyond the horizon and further hidden by several clever mirage devices, hidden in plain sight was Tracy Island…

Drat.

"Your drink, M’Lady?"

Penelope did not jump. She refused to. Parker was now hovering at her side again, ever the faithful English butler. Even in his holiday cream chinos.

"Parker. You're on holiday too.” she scolded. “Do desist bullying the resort staff out of their jobs!"

"Begging your pardon milady. But they can't make a mixer or -pardon me language- a blooming cup of tea right.” He explained. “Not to your particular way of liking, at any rate."

Penelope sighed. He had a point.

"I do appreciate it, Parker. But you are fussing.”

“Sorry, milady.”

“Really. The world won't end just because of a little spilt milk or life providing lemons for the lemonade..." she said, taking the drink from the tray. then added with a rather viscous look back out to sea. "Despite what our American friends think."

"Quite? Erm...” Parker hesitated. It seemed he was not, for all their year's together, sure how to address a Ladyship whose pride had been wounded. Discussing Common enemies or wrong uns sure. Not catty remarks about ol’ pals and friendships possibly soured.

“Well… I’ll be off then? if you say so milady?"

"I do. Please Parker, go off and enjoy yourself?" She said, then added, “Preferably without a casino in sight?”

Parker sighed.

“No more gambling wot I ain’t got m’lady. You have my word on that. But.” Again, Parker hesitated. Then cleared his throat.

"If I might be so bold as to say so, milady-?"

"No. You may not." Penelope snubbed. And stubbornly turned back to the picture esc view.

“…Very good, m’lady.” Parker snubbed right back. Penelope sat tense, purposely ignoring him as he departed. then cursed her bad temper as even Parker left her too sit and stew.

Villains and hazards she could handle with ease. Emotions, or more unpleasant feelings, she’d always rather hated facing. Creighton-Wards don’t do very good at that. Especially without something constructive or some engagement to throw herself into.

“I wasn’t made for relaxing on sunbeds.” She thought. “That clearly skipped a generation.”

She did persevere, however, between sipping the fruity drink and reading the awful bad romance thriller book she’d brought with her.

(she’d initially brought the new hit bestseller to hide the history journal she had actually been reading. It wouldn’t do for the British tabloid press to think she wasn’t such a blonde. But then Diane had said the Book was so awful, it was actually good. So, Penelope had tried to read it for real. Then decided while she could trust Diane one many things, life and death things even; book recommendations was not one of them.)

The book, however bad, wasn't exciting enough to take her mind off things. Not properly. But She absolutely was not going to lose her temper, again or spend the whole holiday shut up in her room. Nor was she going to cry or shed one single tear over Jeff bloody Tracy. Or Scott for that matter. She hadn’t so far and was not about to start. Certainly not in public, thank you very much.

Lady Penelope was just debating if she should give it up? And see what the on-site gym had to offer, hoping to physically run away from her troubles. But when she went to sit up her ribs to remind her why she was on a ‘relaxing holiday’ in the first place. Trying not to wince was extra hard when she heard Parker’s heavy footsteps. (The ex-cat burglar was deliberately making himself heard and not sneak up on her again.) Instead, Penelope repressed a groan. not even forty minutes had gone past since she’d asked to be left in peace!

"Begging your pardon again ma'am. but there’s a gentleman wishing to speak to you?"

"If it’s anyone with the surname Tracy on the telephone I do not wish to speak to them." She snapped, not looking up from the book.

"Good thing it ain’t on the phone, then." Parker cut back, rather brutishly. then asked, "What can I get you to drink, young sir?"

"J-Just a c- cold soft drink please, Parker."

"Brains?!"

"H-hi Lady Penelope.”

Penelope bolted up (ouch) and lifted her sunglasses. Sure enough, there was International Rescues resident genius. He gave a little wave, as Parker gave a little nod and left. "My dear boy, how splendid to see you! What on earth are you doing here?"

“I’m dropping in on you, a-apparently. If that’s okay?" Brains smiled, sitting on the sun lounger next to hers. The young man stuck out like a sore thumb in his vest, shirt and tie. But despite the heat and the awkward way he held himself, (as if the lounger would bite him if he were to put his feet up,) Brains didn't seem to mind. Mind, Penelope supposed he was used to the heat of the southern hemisphere.

“I-I hope, I'm not interrupting anything?”

“Only my own ruminating. How did you know where I was?" She asked, astonished, putting down the rubbish paperback. Then narrowed her eyes at him. "And why are you here, even? Did someone put you up to this?"

Brains’ hands went up sharpish in surrender, like she’d levelled a pistol at him.

"N-no. no one! I came of my own accord.” He said. Then amended, putting his arms down. “Well a-actually, no. That's not true. I was coming here. Solo. then l-lost my nerve? and Tin-tin bullied me into actually going through with this. And then flew me here!"

Penelope whipped around. (Her ribs didn’t like that.) Tin-tin sat at the outdoor bar, looking resplendent in tangerine. with a drink to match. seeing she’d been spotted, Miss Kyrano saluted her.

"Tin-Tin said if you like, she's up for a trip out into town. but she’s also said to tell you she’s not coming over until she knows you definitely won’t judo throw her over the cliff. or be cross with her for bringing me over.” Brains explained.

“I would never-!” Penelope said aghast. Then remembered the rather vicious exchanging of words that had led to her checking into the resort rather than staying on Tracy Island. “…Not the first option at least.”

“T-that’s fair. And as for the how, John tracked the heli-jet to the mainland, and locating your communications was very simple. That and this is one of the nearest luxury adults only resorts to the airport. Tracy Industries has a gold card- “

"Oh of course he does." Penelope scoffed. And then felt a teensy bit bad for throwing Brains off his track.

Brains nervously cleared his throat. and continued. "Yes. to a suite? We stay here if the weather is too bad to get back across from supplies runs with the jet or the Ladybird. so, we simply walked onto site, dropped off our bags; Tin-tin got changed and then we came looking for you."

“Right. Well Brains, you’ve found me. Congratulations…”

Brains shifted nervously as she scrutinised him. Then turned away, pulling back down her sunglasses.

"A-a Penny for them, Lady Penelope?" Brains tried when the silence stretched a little too long.

"Right now, my thoughts do not make for good company." Penelope said coolly, not accolading the pun on her name, intentional or not.

Then sighed, rubbing her temple.

"My apologies. You are a pip for coming out to see me. I shouldn't take it out on you. Or dear old Parker, either for that matter."

"Less of the old." She thought she heard. Penelope glanced back to the bar where her butler was taking an awfully long time to fetch Brains his pop.

Penelope took off her sunglasses, folding them neatly back into their case.

"But Brains? Dear if you've come to apologise on their behalf or ask me to come back to the island, don’t bother. and I’m not apologising either, so don’t waste your time asking me too!" She said, feeling rather childish. Then added. “Even if it is bad form."

"No, I didn’t. And-and I'm not going to do that. I-I c c ccc.”

Brains paused and took a breath before continuing.

“I came on my behalf. Admittedly with a push. No one bar John was informed where we were heading. Just off base. And as for saying sorry-?”

“What about it?”

“Well, I think you’re both in the wrong? if it matters, Lady Penelope.” He said sincerely.

Penelope shot him a look that sent ‘stronger men’ running normally. This time Brains wasn’t affected.

“However, you came to Tracy Island for r-rest and recovery. And I’m sorry you fell out with Scott and Mr Tracy. That I will a-a-pp-p. That I am sorry for.” He continued. “I wanted to make sure you're okay. Really?"

"That, that is very sweet of you. I'm …fine, thank you." She said. Then teased just a little. "How many times do I have to say you’re free to call me Penny. or at least Penelope?"

"I don't think I could manage ‘Penny’." Brains shook his head. "It doesn't sound right from me."

“Alright.” She said, “But I mean it. And it is sweet, but I hate to think I’ve put you out. you could have just called?"

"W-would you have answered? "

"From you, yes.” Penelope said truthfully. “But then again I guess there's no way of screening calls outside of the home video phone and FAB One.”

"No. That is something I’ve been looking into? Assimilating a ringtone, different coloured lights for items. Or a caller id like on telly phones. It’s been simple enough to roll out on the vehicles so far. But on the watches and-!”

Brains stopped. “… Lady Penelope, you're letting me t-talk e-electronics again."

"You call it techno babble; I find it interesting." She shrugged. It might have sounded like false flattery to or from someone else, but she did genuinely enjoy listening to Brains. Even the bits that went over her head.

"Yes, but y-you're avoiding an awkward conversation." Brains frowned. "Where was I?"

"Television phone lines?" Penelope tried. Brains frown grew a little exasperated. "Oh, it was worth a shot. I said I would have answered. if it was you."

"Right. Well as I said I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried about you. So, were Tin-tin a-and the fellas? And we’re all missing you and had been looking forward to you visiting. Really. I hope I’m not wrong when I say I see you as a very good ‘pal’, Lady Penelope? even outside of work.”

Brains was not a great fan of spontaneous physical affection. or else Penelope might have reached over and squeezed his hand. She herself wasn’t one for mushy sentiments without substance.

“You aren’t wrong. Although I'm not using the term ‘pal’ , thank you. but You’re a dear friend of mine too Brains. One Whom I’m lucky to have I might add.”

“The gadgetry upgrades are an a-added bonus.”

He said it in his normal tone but punctuated it with a very over top wink. Ah a joke.

Parker did not bring Brains his cola. But allowed the automatic waiter to bring it to him instead. It was a shiny chirping dustbin looking thing with a flat tray head, running on wheels and a track. Nothing as sophisticated as Braman. Although someone had gone to great trouble to put a smiley face on its front using its order lights as eyes. Penelope glared at it all the same for intruding.

Brains took the drink, thanked the robot; And continued.

“And it was somewhat selfish of me too. Coming to see you I mean. I wanted to get off the island for a little while. or at least away from the house.”

“Oh? Brains, is something wrong?” Penelope wasn’t going to admit she was worried no. not at all.

Alright, perhaps a smidgen.

“hm. it isn't a nice atmosphere.” Brains said, plucking out the umbrella from the drink and rolling it in his fingers. “And the others are trying to hide in my lab which is-?”

The near splutter of giggle from her startled them both.

“Terribly sorry, Brains.” Penelope apologised. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I just got the ridiculous image of one or more of the boys physically hiding under your work bench like a game of sardines!”

“Ah. no. That would be funny! And that has happened before! Not with the work bench but the storage cupboard. I do have to remind them sometimes it is a working lab and workshop." Brains said with a chuckle. Then more seriously, "If they were working on their own projects, I wouldn’t mind. It would be simply a case of just being there at the same time? but it was more they all keep coming in rather than face one another. if that makes sense? to see how whatever it is I’m working on is going and small talk."

“Ah. No, I quite agree that it is quite bothersome when people do that. One moment.”

Penelope reached into her bag. And pulled out an anti-listening device, ironically disguised as a compartment pocket disc and radio player. While the one in her compact and Brain’s watch were probably more than adequate for any electronic bugs; this one packed a little more juice that’d allow them a little more privacy. Beaming white noise up out of its antennae, the gadget then echoed surrounding noise back outward, creating a barrier around in up to a five-metre radius. Both eves’ droppers and recording devices alike wouldn’t hear them now. Even Parker and Tin-tin’s own IR devices would struggle against it. Parker wouldn’t even hear what she was saying even if he hid in a nearby decorative pot plant.

“There. Then we speak a little more freely about your lab and the Tracy’s.” Penelope smiled, setting it on the table between their sun loungers. “You can never guarantee secrecy in these places. As you’ve proven!”

Only Brains was more focused on the not-a-radio. “Is the new synth mechanism working well for output you need it too outside of the testing conditions? I wasn’t certain it could generate the continuous voltage without compensating the battery life.”

“Now who’s talking shop to avoid discussions?” Penelope pointed out. Brains sighed and swirled the cola as if it might help.

"It isn’t a nice atmosphere.” He said eventually. “In any of the villas. But other than seeing you’re okay? I'm staying out of the actual argument please. So are Tin-Tin, Gordon and John. "

“That’s only two out of five brothers." Penelope said quietly.

“Alan is heading to Thunderbird Five two days earlier than he was meant to. John changed his mind and was going to let Alan owe him another week seeing as you weren’t there anymore? but I think Alan’s trying to escape too. " Brains said. “And his, Alan’s I mean. His stance is ‘I told you so’. but I'm not sure which side of the argument. Although John asked you to call him, and you can tell him your side of the story.”

“Our own little ‘bitch sesh’.” Penelope said, sipping her drink to avoid pursing her lips. “And Virgil's?"

Penelope wished she hadn’t asked. Brains’ face fell.

“Virgil isn't speaking to anyone." He said sadly. "Last time I saw him he was holed up in Thunderbird Two making adjustments to the starboard’s main averting b-six aid access. And he had been for nearly ninety minutes!"

"Which bit is that? That he’s repairing."

"Oh. On the hatch in the cockpit, for storage." Brains corrected. "It keeps sticking."

“What a nuisance that must be." Penelope frowned. “Especially as Two’s pilot.”

“Quite. But. It shouldn’t take all that long to fix. And… I’m not sure I should say this?”

“And?” Penelope prompted anyway.

“And Virgil is not even acting as Scott’s confidant." Brains said.

“Oh…goodness, that is troubling."

“Hmm. Yeah.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment or few.

There was a splash, which served as a fitting distraction as any.

Tin-tin had at some point put on her cap and stripped down to her swimsuit. making use of the pool she’d hopped in for a dip and started doing steady lengths. Parker was looking h’after her stuff. He sat watching the sunbathers like a guard dog, daring any dirty old men to ogle or approach the young lady. It was quite sweet how protective he was of Tin-tin. Parker had acted much the same in Paradise Peaks, despite them being on assignment.

Deciding they’d be alright, Penelope sighed again and turned back to Brains.

"It wasn't in my itinerary, you know? To upset Virgil. I didn’t set out to do so on purpose.”

“I know.”

“Or Jeff actually. Certainly not to anger him. or Scott. or any of you for that matter-."

“don't.” Brains frowned interrupting. “I know that. With what was said, I believe it was needed, giving the operation. but the way it was put, it wasn't right.”

“That's rather the crux of the matter. rather than quite what was said itself.” Penelope admitted. Brains nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Does he often do that with the rest of you?”

“No, not a lot. Although sometimes Mr Tracy says things in that tone without meaning too. But He does it to even Kranyo? I don’t like it when he does that.”

“I doubt Kryano does either. Well, thank you for your honesty… I knew I was in for a lecture. Or possibly at worst a telling off. I just hadn’t expected it levelled at me quite so bluntly or on a personal level.” Penelope complained. “Oh dear. But you are right. And I shouldn’t have shot back either. At Jeff. I'm afraid my own father was a ‘give them as good as back, son’ sort of approach too.”

“Mine tried.” Brains agreed. “So did the professor.”

“Oh?”

Brains very very rarely ever talked about his family life before the Tracy’s. Adopted or otherwise. But he was slightly more casual here, just for a brief moment.

“It didn’t take. Sending me to boxing classes to t-toughen me up just gave the school bully an easier target. Especially if I couldn’t see them in the ring without my glasses.” He said. And waved off any sympathy.

“H-how did your parents find it?” Brains asked and at her questioning look clarified, “Not following the life they’d planned for you? If that’s not too personal?”

“From you, no, not at all. Hmm. I think switching from scouts to the guides helped? But it was being made head girl and going to finishing school that finally won mater over.” Penelope shrugged. Something her old tutor would have struck her with a ruler for, speaking of. “As for my father? In his own words better a strong daughter then another waste of an heir like his brother was. Yours?”

“The professor didn’t really mind what I wore or what I changed, so long as I didn’t miss any classes.”

Brains didn’t elaborate any further. Penelope picked up the thread of conversation before the silence became awkward.

“I'm afraid I’ve made papa sound a brute. He wasn’t. He was a good man in most respects. although I don’t think he and Jeff would have gotten on at all.” She said. But the augment was still playing on her mind. and the subject circled back and reared its ugly head. “But speaking of Jeff and fathers. This isn’t a case of simply being grounded or getting into trouble with a local constable, is it?”

Brains shook his head, and Penelope continued. “And yet Jeff spoke to me like a child.”

“But what you did was incredibly risky? He’s right to think that.” Brains replied.

“I don’t need to hear any more of his Opinions.” Penelope said curtly. “…or his mothers.”

"If it helps Mrs Tracy called him and Scott foolish. For speaking to you like that. Individually. and idiots collectively " Brains put in.

"It does actually." Penelope said, a little cattily. "Given Grandmama Tracy cannot stand me, she must really be quite galled to be on my side."

“y-yeah. Well partly on your side.”

"Was she very rude about me?" Penelope grinned. Brains thought for a moment reanalysing.

“Urm…you do know Mrs Tracy says your name odd. Like it’s an insult?” He said warily.

“Oh, she always does that. That's why I call her Grandmama.”

“Oh. But Mrs Tracy hates that?”

“I know. She pretends to flirt with Parker, and she knows we all hate that.”

“I'm not certain it is pretend. Wait, is that why she called you a snob?”

“Is that all? Well, I am. That’s not terribly rude. if it’s true.” Penelope smiled sweetly. “She also thinks I'm a bad influence on you Tin-tin and the boys. And Jeff to boot.”

“Really? I don’t believe it.”

“She told me that herself. And you’ve my word it’s the truth.”

"I don’t understand why you find that funny?” Brains said, “Oh well. Other than that Mrs Tracy wasn't so rude as to call you anything but ‘her majesty!’ behind your back… But that was before the fight."

“It was hardly a fight! Nothing was broken or hit." Penelope disagreed.

"Well, what would yo-you call it then?"

Penelope thought. "A mild skirmish.” She said, “Or perhaps the start of a rift."

"I- I’m not going to call it that first one. But Mrs Tracy is being very vocal about everything being ’bang out of order’. And that she ‘raised you boys better’.” Brains said, with air quotations. “And she keeps dishing out chores. The villa is spotless. And Mrs Tracy is hand washing the dishes despite having the dishwasher. She only does that when she’s cross.”

Brains then smiled and lowered his voice unnecessarily, "Can you keep a secret, Lady Penelope?"

"Always dear.” Penelope whispered back, conspiring for juicy gossip. “Go on?"

"Mr Tracy even got middle named!" Brains chuckled. "He was complaining about Virgil’s hiding. And Mrs Tracy told him to pull his own socks up. Metaphorically. B-but he doesn’t know Gordon and I heard him."

"Oh my!” Penelope tittered. “Although if Gordon heard? then it will go around the island like wildfire."

“T-true True.” Brains smiled.

But then that smile slipped somewhat.

"I-I'm afraid there’s no way to avoid Scott’s fussing or temper by the way. He gets very worried about any of us getting hurt. You and me? We might not be one of his brothers but Scott? He's always trying to look out for everyone."

"I know." Penelope conceded. "I know. But the hypocrisy? He cannot throw himself into ridiculous scrapes himself then join in with berating me like a child!"

"I know.” Brains echoed. “He does it a lot. Even worse since that accident with the ‘dish Monte Bianco? the others call him smother hen.”

Virgil had called it that and some several more rather expletive things, she knew.

“Gordon says it’s a compliment?” Brains continued. “Too you I mean. That Scott cares for you. As one of the team”

“It didn’t feel like a compliment.” Penelope pouted. Not that she’d admit that. “He didn't have to jump in and agree with Jeff quite so eagerly either. And the dressing down from Mr Jeff Tracy? I maintain; it really felt like I was being spoken to like a child!”

“Hmm.”

Brains paused tapping his shoe nervously.

"I I do respect Mr Tracy, a great deal. But sometimes..."

Brains took a deep breath.

“Sometimes Jeff can be a little frustrating to deal with.” Penelope suggested. “And it feels like he doesn’t take one seriously.”

“You hit the pr-pro p. you’ve hit the nail on the head there as it were, Lady Penelope.” Brains paused again. “I wish sometimes…”

Penelope gave him a moment. But Brains changed tack.

"You were worried about him. Last April? so you insisted Mr Tracy took a holiday, correct?" he said, placing the cola on the table next to hers and the fake radio.

"I did.” She said, curious to see where he was going with this. “After a very insistent message from a little thunderbird-ie prompted it. But they were right."

"Oh. I didn't know that bit… but You still had Mr Tracy’s best interests at heart, right?"

" I hoped so."

Jeff had been very against it…

"But then Scott burnt out trying to be in charge?" Brains said. "Even before the seascape called in. And Mr Tracy came back only to the island."

"I remember." Penelope said. This time it was her turn to pause before speaking. “I felt like I was being blamed without him saying so.”

"Hmm. he doesn’t like it. not being in charge?” Brains said. Penelope agreed. “But at the same time, he’s never given Scott any training or expertise into stepping up. He just expects Scott to ‘know’ what to do. Same with Tracy industries. And it isn’t just Scott. It’s all five of them. I know they had a say in the matter of making the operations. But not so much in how it’s run sometimes. Or how it’ll run in the future.”

“Hmm.” Penelope smiled and put her shades back on. “And that makes it all alright, doesn’t it?”

“Lady Penelope?”

“Yes?”

"Your jaw is doing that thing it does on missions where you’re really angry but pretending to be helpless."

“Good grief Brains! Remind me never to play poker with you.”

“You can count cards!” Brains shot back. "I prefer chess anyway. Scott was right in the lounge though, w-with what he said.”

“Scott was rude.”

“But correct. You don’t have to prove that you’re indestructible. We know you aren’t, even if you act like it!”

Penelope did not hide her scowl this time. “I can manage, you know? I'm aware this latest ‘favour’ I’ve done for Jeff is more of a blot on my record than a gold star. But I’ve been living this lifestyle for longer than they have.”

“I k-know that! We all do. We were all worried!” Brains said and put his head in his hands. He didn’t look up when spoke.

“He was right. So was Mr Tracy. but the way it was put wasn't. He does it to his brothers all the time! even when they’re out on a rescue. And sometimes Mr Tracy? He speaks to them as their dad when they’re running through protocols. or as a commander when they need their father?”

"That's the trouble with a family business I suppose." Penelope sighed. She drew out a cigarette case and her holder. At exactly the right moment Parker just happened to be walking past to light it for her with just a flip of his zippo. Barely breaking his stride. Remarkable talent of that man.

"I get I am essentially an employee in a family run enterprise. Albeit a rather extravagant one. As well as a friend of said family." Penelope continued, exhaling smoke out. "But to get a dressing down so publicly? With the lot of you in earshot, and Scott as his second jumping in and backing him up? Call me spoiled but I'm not used to it. I wouldn't do that to anyone who works in my home or working under me invited to the house. it's unseemly!"

That last bit came out a little loud and had it not been for the anti-eavesdropping device then heads may have turned.

Brains stifled a cough through his nose. And Penelope made sure to blow smoke the other way.

"What about your err... previous employment?" he asked, waving smoke away from his face. “Did You never get in this sort of trouble with them?”

“Oh goodness all the time. Not so much in journalism, but I’ve had some HORRID directors and horrible bosses. Far worse than Jeff. Especially within the fashion industry. thank goodness for houses like François Lemaire!” Penelope sighed again. "But I can get away with kicking up a fuss right back if needs be behind the catwalk and cameras if something is wrong. especially on behalf of the newer or younger models. Brands don't want the press of being outed as underpaying or cutting corners... That wasn't what you meant, was it dear?”

Brains shook his head. “Not really. But was there much difference? With modelling, interviews and being an agent.”

“The extortionate pay and more weapons pointed at my head.” Penelope quipped. Then really thought about it. “And bizarrely less sexism interestingly enough? Things were said to my face more, granted, but I could actively use that to an advantage.”

“Gee. T-that’s socially fascinating to observe. But I would not like to step into either of those worlds. With the exception of consulting and inventions.” Brains said. Then laughed. “Wait? You know those tacky souvenirs that say things like ‘you don’t have to be mad to work here-?

“But it helps.” Penelope said. “Yes, I know the ones you mean.”

“Well, I think we don’t have to be mad where we work?”

Penelope chuckled right back. “But it helps. True, very true.”

“I b-believe I might know what I'm contributing to the Secret Santa.” Brains said, making a note in his pocketbook. “”

“That’s very apt. regardless of whose name you pull out.” Penelope agreed. “What’s the limit this year by the way?”

The worst-best present was a Tracy Tradition. Had been since the boys had been pocket money age. save buying four presents each. And Grandma receiving five of the same mug or tea towel. The categories had become more wilder but if anything, the price limit had come down, to maintain the challenge.

“Gordon says up it to twenty dollars. but Alan wants to be extra hard and say ten.”

“I could be a bounder and include the postage then.” Penelope said, not meaning it really. “You get that slogan. I’ll contribute something with Alice in Wonderland. We're all mad here!”

“I'm sensing a theme.” Brains stammered.

“Let’s see if they notice. Mind I suppose Tracy Island is a wonderland somewhat.” Penelope smiled. “All your brilliant ideas? the bravery, the secrets.”

Brains however wasn’t laughing.

“Will you stay? In the organisation.” He said, suddenly serious and switching topics. It threw her, just a little.

“Why should I?!” Penelope retorted. She hadn’t thought of quitting. Not really. But she could!

“I can give you a list of reasons if that wasn’t rhetorical.” Brains replied.

“I don’t need a list.” She frowned. Penelope went to take another drag of her cigarette only to find it had burnt up.

“Can I ask why you don’t just fly back to England then?” Brains asked as she stubbed it out in the ashtray.

“No.”

The voice didn’t normally allow for any argument to bode. But Penelope wasn’t having much luck in being intimidating. Must be something with the factor seventy sunscreen.

“I m-maybe wrong but I think you were hoping someone would come. Here, from the island. To find you.” Brains challenged. “I like to think you’re giving them a chance to get their act t-together.

“Think what you like!” Penelope said. And in Trying to Give him the brush off, she snatched up her book again. She even started reading it again to ignore him. Unfortunately, she had it Upside down. And didn’t realise for a beat too long she was so annoyed. Still Penelope Powered through it. even tuning the pages. Brains in turn turned in his seat. and looked out over the same spot as she’d spent most of the day doing. He sipped his cola, politely ignoring her ignoring him.

“G-good book?” he asked eventually.

“Awful.” Penelope said, calmer. Brains was annoyingly very good at being a good influence. “And not in a way so bad it’s entertaining.”

“Ah. S-shame. Not even if it’s read the wrong way r-round upside down and back to front?”

“Not even then, darling.” She said, putting it back down. And steeled her courage to the sticking place. “And… going back to your question. admittedly I couldn’t face the flight. Home. Or Back to the island.”

Brains frowned. “Do you mean physically or psychologically?”

“Both-.”

“Lady Penelope-!” Brains interrupted.

“well-!” she interrupted right back. Goodness, this felt horribly vulnerable! “I just wasn’t in the mood for another argument. And a long-haul flight, even in a Fireflash, sounded extremely inadvisable at this point.”

“Are you in pain?” Brains asked. Then eyed her glass suspiciously. “Should you be drinking that on medication?”

“Now you sound like a Tracy. It’s a mocktail. I’m not so foolish to get white girl brit-abroad wasted, thank you! Not with bruises.” Penelope said, stirring it for emphasis. And gave a little scowl. “It's mostly fruity and syrup. Parker was right, this isn’t even close to a cocktail.”

“So, if you aren’t drinking a-alcohol, does that mean you are taking pain relief?”

“Yes, Brains I am.”

“The full prescribed dosage?”

Penelope didn’t dignify that with a straight answer. Brains pushed his glasses back up his nose and continued to stare incredulously at her till Penelope explained.

“I didn’t want to take them. They’re so strong. They make me woozy, and I cannot stand how at odds with my own limbs they make me feel.” She grumbled. “I came here to relax, not to be comatose.”

“You came to the island to relax. You went to recover enough to get out of any questions from the press.” Brains corrected. And sighed,

“Mr Tracy’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

“I meant it when I said think what you like.” Lady Penelope said coolly. “I'm here and he’s there. And he’ll still be behind his desk when I get home.”

“Is that your solution for dealing with uncomfortable situations?” Brains accused. “j-just run away and hide.”

“Better to hide in plain sight then get caught." Penelope sniffed.

“That's not denying running away.” Brains retorted.

“It was hardly a run. Given how long it took to repack my bags.” Penelope said, Losing her temper with another old friend. It wasn’t a burning fiery thing this time; this burnt like ice. “And don’t act as if he has never upset you either? Or that you’ve never buried yourself in work to avoid Jeff. Scott told me about the smashed models.”

That last bit she added Rather unfairly. Beastly even. Penelope regretted it the instant she said it. Brains regarded her for a moment, and she thought he might get up and leave that time. She wouldn’t blame him.

Instead, he grumbled, "You’re all very alike y-you know? In that you're all sorry about how you spoke to each other but too stubborn to a-actually apologise. Plus, you’re British and not going to admit he upset you. Really upset you."

"For someone who just said he'd rather watch from the side-lines, you know a lot about how people tick Brains.”

“For someone who’s so cool under pressure she frustrates the Hood? you can be one heck of a hot head sometimes, Lady Penelope!”

Penelope considered he had a point. But didn’t verbally say so.

“What was in your cola to make you so direct today?” she said instead.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” he replied instead.

“Because I do not always need to be rescued.” Penelope stated. “I’m not a damsel in some story. For every concern Parker or I have called the boys in, there must be a dozen or so missions I handle. sometimes without most of you even being aware of until afterwards.”

“I know.” Brains said quietly. “But you did need rescuing in that situation. Or should have been? And you didn’t ask for help.”

“I am aware, Brains. Hindsight is a marvellous thing.” She snipped. “Unfortunately, I was too late in my decision making.”

“P-Penelope? You were hurt.”

Maybe it was the fact he’d dropped the title? Or it was the unsaid parallels to another tragedy. but Penelope didn’t interrupt.

“In an avalanche of all things. And at one point even missing? And knocked unconscious. Enough to scare us all.” Brains said. “That might be the reason Mr Tracy was, either consciously or not, hard on you. But… It is frustrating that we’re an organisation that helps people; but we’re bad at looking out for each other. Especially to how everyone is feeling, e-emotionally.”

“…Brains, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Or brought up the Thunderbird Six planning.” She said in a hush. “I'm sorry.”

“Thanks.” Brains nodded. Then added, “A -also how much did he tell you? About the model I broke?”

Penelope was Not glad to change the subject as such. But certainly, latching on to it.

“So, it was on purpose then?” Penelope asked.

“no.” Brains defected. “Frustration? yeah…Failure isn’t an option. Even just demonstrations and trials.”

“He said it was more than one.”

Brains looked up at that, worried.

“S-Scott knew about the other models?”

“No. You just told me.” Penelope pointed out. Brains’ mouth opened and closed twice before just settling on silently frowning. “Scott said they’d been other pitches…and then even after repurposing Alan’s biplane, you seemed to lose confidence in yourself for a little while. That was clear even to Parker and myself.”

“wouldn’t you? nothing was good enough.” Brains frowned. “Nothing I made was what Mr Tracy had in mind.”

This time Lady Penelope did reach across the gap to squeeze his arm. It was more on his sleeve if anything. She didn’t wish to overwhelm the poor fellow.

“There’s no shame in wanting to work to a specification.” She tried.

“Or wanting to stick to the mission.” Brains countered in agreement. “Just please have ah- an extra b- backup plan next time, Lady Penelope? And be more careful around missions with snow.”

Lady Penelope promised she would.

“Annoyingly, I'm normally rather good at them. And please don’t be cross about the models? Scott didn’t tell me a lot. Virgil and John filled me in a little more. It wasn’t gossip, they were worried for you, dear boy.” She continued. “But they told me enough to make me wish you’d gotten to be on board your airship’s maiden voyage. Even if it did get sabotaged and end up a rather dangerous affair.”

“Me too. I’d have liked to see the Sky Ship launch at least. Even if it had just been from inside a Thunderbird.” Brains said, a little wistfully. “Maybe if they ever build a second one? Ah-although I doubt it after the cost of the damage I caused-”

“You get that idea out of your head this instant!” Penelope scolded. Brains looked up at her, shocked. Whether it was her Tone of voice, or he hadn’t meant to say that bit aloud, she didn’t care.

“You didn’t cause Skyship’s nosedive into a controversial missile base.” She reminded him. “Those villains who killed the crew and then one another did. You saved us. The shoot-out caused the crash. None of the blame rests on your shoulders.”

“I know but it was my design-?” he tried.

“Absolutely none of the events are your fault and the blame does not rest on your shoulders. If anyone has said otherwise, then they are exceptionally stupid.” Penelope challenged. “And if you argue that it is your fault even out of misplaced guilt or the like, I will personally throw you in that pool, in what you are wearing right now!”

“You y-you’re not meant to lift anything heavy or do anything strenuous for at least two weeks?!”

“Then I will get Parkers and Tin-tin’s assistance. Don’t think I won’t!”

Brains gulped.

“…I-I don’t think I’ve ever known you so cross.”

“Likewise!”

“First at Mr Tracy, then me.”

“Jeff was being, pardon my language, an arse. you dear are listening to your insecurities. No one gets to make you feel small, Brains. not even your own thoughts.” Penelope said stubbornly.

Brains nodded slowly. And sighed, “I know the actions of others weren’t my fault. And no one said t-they were. The opposite in fact. But like you said earlier? About being blamed. It wasn’t in my control what happened. But I still feel bad?”

“And that was only after it crashed. I felt bad about being laughed at and I think that reflected in everything else I worked on for a while. And how I was with the Tracy’s.” Brains admitted. “I can design incredible machines. I know that. but having no brief made it e-extra challenging when its s-shouldn’t have been. And then the answer had been under our noses the entire time.”

“isn’t it just like that sometimes?”

“Hmm…also I’ve never heard you swear before? That’s t-twice in an hour now.”

“I blame the heat. It’s clearly getting to me.”

“If Mr Tracy apologises, Will you forgive him? and stay?”

Penny withdrew her hand.

“And if he doesn’t?” she suggested.

No one had called her. No one had stopped her leaving Tracy Island in the first place.

“Well, then my analyzation of the situation would be wrong. But I very much doubt Tin-tin and the Tracy brothers would let you leave without a fight. especially if you called Virgil. Middle brother and chief peacekeeper.”

“Why should I be the one to extend the olive branch?”

“Would I be here if you h-had? Because they're trying to give you space and also they are g-genuinely terrified of upsetting you further.” Brains said. “Scott will say he’s sorry the moment you get him on a private call. He’s admitted aloud he messed up.”

“If he messed up, then so did I. Disastrously so.” Penelope admitted. “With such an abysmal rookie mistake too. I'm surprised I wasn’t let go of on the spot.”

Brains had unfortunately taken a swig of his drink and nearly choked on it.

“Let Go!? You a-are our top agent!”

“That, I doubt.” Penelope said. “I failed a mission, old boy. Regardless of the weather and the results. The only reason that microfilm was recovered was sheer dumb luck. I didn’t even complete the task, Parker did it for me. All for what? a twisted ankle, bruised ribs and the whole island laughing at or scolding me!”

“We weren’t laughing!”

“It certainly felt like it.”

“w-what did you just tell me about not listening to your own thoughts?” he tried. “I c-could throw you in the pool!”

“Could you? Try it. Dear.” Penelope challenged, with an eyebrow.

Brains slowly backed down. Not without a complaint.

“Why is throwing people and t-things in the pool the biggest threat in my life recently?”

“You are a gentleman.”

“I mean it though. You’re both our friend and the best agent.” Brains insisted. “You go across the world for us, not just London. You’re the only agent he trusts to have a direct link too. And your portrait hangs on the wall. The only one of our networks. Alongside his own sons.”

“…And what if I’m sick of hiding in plain sight?”

It was very quietly asked. She wasn’t sure Brains had heard it. Penelope was about to pretend she hadn’t said it at all and carry on when he spoke again.

“Can you go without? The trills and the subterfuge.” Brains asked. “Sometimes I'm sick of being an inventor. But if I didn’t create? I’d die!”

“Spoke like a true artist…No. I doubt I could retire even if I needed to. And it has been the only enterprise I’ve been in in my life with some moral backbone.” Penelope admitted. “But I know one thing.”

“What’s t-that?”

“I definitely wasn’t made for relaxing when forced too.”

“M-most definitely a Tracy trait.”

“Tosh. I told you, I'm a bad influence on them, remember? But truly, shall we get out of here?” Penelope suggested. “I believe you said our favourite technician mentioned a trip out?”

“I b-believe I did. That's a good idea.” Brains grinned. “So long as this m-means you’re not cross with me for coming out here.”

“No. I'm rather glad you did.” Penelope smiled. “Give me time to change and arrange the car with Parker.”

“I’ll go let Tin-tin know.” Brains agreed getting up. “When will you be back?”

“Will you be coming with us?” Penelope asked with a frown.

“Hmm, no. not s-shopping at least. But I might come for the drive.” He said, “There's also p-plenty of galleries and museums in the town. and a rather fun shooting range just outside of it. Most of us prefer it to the island one even.”

“Oh darling, you love dressing room montage, and you know it.” Penelope teased. “Here. A toast?”

Brains was bemused. But raised his glass anyway. “T-to what?”

“To the whims of Jeff Tracy.” Lady Penelope joked, “And what we put up with sometimes for international rescue.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He beamed. And clinked his glass to hers.

“Oh, and Brains?” She asked. The scientist turned back.

“Y-yes, Penelope?”

“Thank you. For this.” she said sincerely. “I think a ‘little chat’ was long overdue. And far more needed than a holiday.”

#thunderfam #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #lady penelope #brains #my fanfiction

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