#asking so many questions during b1

[yardsards]

anyway i made my friend watch books 1 and 2 of infinity train with me yesterday so needless to say, my infinity train brainrot (trainrot?) is back

[thunderboltfire]

I was having fun with making up their voices! I've also decided to solve a question of languages (languages color-coded to avoid confusion).

Also, this one has quite a lot of tiny text, so I've included transcripts.

[ID: a list illustrated with colored doodles of characters' heads. Titled Who speaks what?

Igna [cartoon picture of Igna's face drawn in brick red color]: Native language: illiraian (southwestern regional form). Understands enough elvish to know when she's being threatened, and can ask for directions, but not much more.

Argo [cartoon picture of Argo's face drawn in sap green color]: Native language: northern elvish. Fluent in illiraian, hardly discernible accent. (it took Igna 3 months to figure out what's off - he rolls 'R' a bit too hard and his vowels sometimes are pronounced too close to the back of his throat).

Theria [cartoon picture of Theria's face drawn in muted brown color]: Native language: Samhran. Fluent in illiraian, audible samhran accent (difficulty pronouncing consonant clusters, palatalising 'L's and 'T"s, mixing up vowels and dyphtongs, sometimes sing-song affect to the vowels). Speaks basic Andaran and broken Omtheron.

Daen [cartoon picture of Daen's face drawn in violet color]: Native language: Moer. Fluent in illiraian, Andaran and gods know what else. Communicative in old elvish. Understands both dwarven languages, but speaks neither. No discernible accent in illiraian.

Haart [cartoon picture of Haart's face drawn in blue]: Native language: Kará (east-dwarvish). Fluent in illiraian (mostly without an

accent, but he often switches soft and hard 'H'). Understands some Andaran and Omtheron. Knows his local variety of sign language.

Knows some expressions in samhran (exclusively swearwords and toasts).]

-

Results: Igna is a spoiled kid, she's the only one in the group who has the luxury of speaking her native language day-to-day. She grew up in complete nowhere, with a very scarce contact with other languages. Tentative A1 in elvish, due to her dad trying to teach her.

Argo probably had the knowledge of Illiraian hammered into his head during his education - inhabitants of Riss speak exclusively a dialect of elvish day-to-day, but the duchy is an enclave, and it would be severely imparing not to know the neighbors' language.

Theria has been away from home long enough to gain a pretty good grasp of Illiraian, and has around B1 level in Andaran. Both spoken with a pretty thick accent, her native language is from a different language family with a strikingly different phototactics, and she's learnt the foreign languages pretty late.

Daen speaks many languages, and all of them pretty well. Maybe it's his long lifespan, but it's possible he's got a knack for language learning.

Haart has had a similar situation to Argo in a sense he's lived in a close neighboorhood of another language and learnt it in childhood. He comes from a merchant house, so it's understandable his family would want him to know foreign languages.

[ID: a scale diagram titled "profanity meter" Left to right: Daen titled "Apocalyptic event indicator", Igna titled "curses when hurt", Argo titled "curses if pissed", Haart titled "curses to emphasise" and Theria titled "Fuck is a sentence divider"]

-

I have to face the fact that Theria most probably has a severe case of unwashed mouth. Her mercenary career spans a good few years when she enters the stage and she doesn't seem like the type to watch her language, so in all probability she doesn't even notice that she curses like a sailor.

[ID: a list titled "Voice and expression". On the left side there's an up-and-down double ended arrow titled "pitch". Characters from top to bottom:

Igna: Easily the highest voice of the group. Clean, and rather strong despite it. Makes an open and honest impression when speaking, fairly good singing voice.

Theria: on the lower side of feminine voices, full-bodied voice with a bit of a vocal fry, on average way louder than the rest of the group. Enjoys singing, but easily dominates a choir

Argo: rather raspy, matte voice. Has a tendency to mutter - the limited sensitivity on the scarred side of his face makes it harder to speak clearly. Speaks quite fast despite of this. Can't hold a note for his life.

Haart: soft, full baritone. Probably the nicest laughter. Nice singing voice, talks with his hands a lot. Makes a characteristic huff when he's nervous.

Daen: low, resonant voice. Clear pronounciation. Reticent, rarely talks more than necessary. Makes a formal impression.]

Last but not least, my trials to work out how would they probably sound like. (I'm not really one to do voiceclaims).

[electrikworm]

5 times Wrecker protected his siblings and 5 times they protected him: Chapter 1

During a mission, Wrecker keeps droids off of Crosshair's back.

--

Content warning: Blood and injury

This fic plays sometime during the Clone Wars before Echo joined the batch.

Read on Ao3

“My position's been compromised.” Crosshair hisses into his comlink, taking out three B1 battle droids approaching him in quick succession.

It had been the perfect location for Crosshair to work from, a cliff overlooking the entirety of the small outpost they're clearing out. Now he had droids marching at him up the slope he himself climbed only fifteen minutes ago. Moving behind a slight raise in the rocks for better cover, Crosshair sighs. It's always something.

“I can't cover your backs if mines being shot at.” he continues, firing shot after shot at the approaching hoard.

“On it!” Wrecker responds, far louder than necessary. Crosshair has half a mind to snap at him for it, not that doing so in the past had ever made Wrecker manage his volume.

“We can do without Wrecker if you thin their numbers from up there Crosshair.” Hunter says. “Contact us when he reaches you.”

Crosshair hears the distressed screams of droids meeting a violent end at Wreckers hands long before he sees the oversized clone come up the slope. He is a little surprised at how fast Wrecker got there. He must have ran the whole way.

“He's here, you can proceed.” Crosshair informs Hunter and Tech, turning his back on the fighting going on behind him. The droids have their hands full with Wrecker now.

He quickly spots Hunter and Tech through his scope, immediately starting on clearing hard to reach opponents in their path. He gets six shots, all perfect hits, in before Wrecker makes it all the way to him and for some kriffing reason decides that distracting Crosshair is a good idea.

“I've got you, kih'vod, don't worry!” Crosshair can hear the grin in his voice, just about catches the thumbs up Wrecker waves in his direction too when he snaps to look at his vod.

“Stow it.” Crosshair spits. “Do your job so I can do mine.”

Wrecker does listen, and although the sound of him fighting is still irritatingly loud, Crosshair can tune that out. A sense of calm overcomes him as he falls into the familiar rhythm of aiming and firing.

Hunter had pointed out before how Crosshairs heart rate and breathing even out when he's concentrating, saying you could almost mistake him for being asleep, were it not for the shots fired from his Firepuncher.

Tech occasionality calls out coordinates, Crosshair finding and eliminating the target there in fractions of seconds. Otherwise he just takes out any droid that would hinder Hunter and Techs progress. They clear the outpost at an efficient pace, especially with some of their forces diverted to Crosshair, and such, Wrecker.

Crosshair allows himself to say a slightly smug “T-1's down.” into their shared comm channel when he hits the tactical droid square in the head in the split second it stood a little too far away from its cover. After that, it's just picking off the stragglers.

Crosshair's doing a final sweep of the outpost when something hits him on the back.

A B1 battle droid's arm he discovers as he turns round. Wrecker's standing there with the rest of the droid in his hands, helmet propped on the top of his head, grinning. Crosshair glares at him, confident the large clone knows exactly how his vod is looking at him even with the helmet.

Wrecker steps over the piles of scrap that used to be droids to approach Crosshair, no doubt to offer him a hand up from where he's been laying on the floor for the past forty-five minutes. He refuses the hand offered to him, less out of spite, more because he noted how heavily Wrecker is limping and the fact he has his other hand firmly pressed to his side.

“Did you count how many clankers you destroyed?” Wrecker asks. A stupid question: Of course he counted. Crosshair choses to forgo answering that for now.

“Did you break something?” he asks, gesturing at the side Wrecker is clutching. Experimentally Wrecker pushes his fingers against his ribs, grimacing as he does so.

“Yeah, think so.”

“Are you okay to walk?” Crosshair continues, pointing at the leg Wrecker was hesitation to put weight on. From what Crosshair can see, Wrecker's right thigh plate has a dent on its side.

“Yeah.” Wrecker answers, taking a step to prove so. “Should be fine.”

Crosshair comms Hunter, informing him that he'll be heading back to the Marauder with Wrecker due to an injury.

They barely get two steps before Wrecker says: “I destroyed 42.”

Crosshair laughs. “That's cute. My counts at 64.” The way Wreckers grin drops makes Crosshair laugh again.

“How?” Wrecker exclaims, having stopped walking in his confusion.

Crosshair could go into detail, explain how the conditions were ideal and he had free reign to hit any droid he could see. But where's the fun in that?

“Guess I'm just better than you.” he says instead. Wrecker huffs in annoyance.

“You sure you're not cheating? You're not counting B2's twice or something, right? We agreed that all droids count once!”

“I don't cheat.” Crosshair scoffs.

“You cheat at cards.”

“I cheat at cards because it pisses Tech off.” Crosshair pauses for a moment, then continues with a smirk. “But, since you got shot in the leg to let me continue shooting, we can count this as an honorary win for you.”

The look of indignation of Wreckers face is possibly the funniest thing he's seen all year.

“Absolutely not! I'm not taking some pity win!” Wrecker shakes his head in annoyance and continues walking down the slope. Crosshair almost laughs again, but as Wrecker takes another step, he doubles over and grabs at his injured leg. Crosshair's caught up to him in a few steps.

“Kark.” Wrecker hisses under his breath, eyes pressed closed. “I think I'll take you up on your offer now...”

“What, the pity win?”

“No!” Wrecker exclaims, then continues quieter. “The 'helping me walk'”

If Crosshair wanted to be really irritating, he'd point out that he had never offered that, and had only asked about Wreckers ability to walk.

Rather than doing that, he simply moves close enough to Wreckers side for him to sling his arm across Crosshairs shoulder. The snipers knees almost give out at the sudden weight. He voices his annoyance with a sigh, but starts walking.

The steep incline leading to the cliffs edge is distinctly more challenging when you're acting as a crutch for a man twice your weight. Crosshair focuses entirely on keeping his footing.

The barely suppressed noises of pain coming from Wrecker are bothering Crosshair. They seem to get louder and harder to contain every step they take. When a slightly miscalculated step brushing their legs together causes Wrecker to struggle to bite back a scream, Crosshair's had enough.

“Sit down, I'm taking a look at that leg.” Crosshair says, tone setting it clear that he's not going to argue about this. Wrecker, predictable, still tries to do exactly that.

“It's fine.” he says, refusing to look at Crosshair.

“Sit your shebs down, or you can show me exactly how fine you are by crawling back to the Marauder on your own.” Crosshair hisses. This time, Wrecker listens, lowering himself to a rock. Crosshair crouches next to him.

Turns out, his thigh plate hasn't got a dent, it has a concave. The shot that hit and broke through the thigh plate bent the sharp edges of the armor piece inwards, digging them into Wreckers leg. Every bit of movement must have pushed the jagged duraplast deeper into the surrounding muscle. Crosshair curses. He should have known to check the injury earlier.

“You'll bleed out if we leave that. Give me your medkit.” Crosshair states, holding his hand out demandingly. The sheepish look on Wreckers face tells him everything he needs to know.

He kriffing forgot it again.

“You're unbelievable.” With a sigh, Crosshair pulls his own medkit out of his pack. Wrecker mutters a barely audible apology.

When Crosshair tries to unlatch Wreckers thigh plate, the large clone jerks his leg away.

“Can't we stop the bleeding without taking that off?” Wrecker tries. Crosshair's dealt with Wreckers aversion to medical procedures many times over the years.

“No.”

The thigh plate comes off with a sickening wet tear as the damaged edges slip from the wound. The barely suppressed cry from Wrecker is worse. Crosshair puts a hand on his arm in apology. Only for a second, the amount of blood soaked into Wreckers blacks urges him to hurry.

“You're bleeding kriffing everywhere.” Crosshair groans. Wrecker needs stitches. Those can't be done here. Not with Crosshairs limited med kit, not in these unsanitary conditions, not without painkillers. Covering the gaping wound with a bacta patch and bandaging it tightly is the best he can do for Wrecker right now.

The way Wreckers clenching and unclenching his hands, Crosshairs almost worried he'll break something.

Crosshair observes his work for a moment. When no blood stains the white fabric, he stands up, extending a hand to Wrecker. “Get up.”

Wrecker complies, voicing gratitude as he does so. Crosshair is unclear weather it is directed at the first aid, or the help with standing up.

The rest of the walk back to the Marauder is remarkably uneventful. Crosshair keeps an eye on Wrecker. Save for a slight shade of red seeping through the bandages when the ships already in sight and his pinched expression, Wreckers condition doesn't worsen. Tech and Hunter aren't back at the Marauder yet when they arrive.

Crosshair gets Wrecker to sit down on the lowest of the three wall mounted beds.

If available, Tech usually takes charge of any medical emergency, however every member of clone force 99 knows their way around a medkit. A medic was never a part of the squad, having basic medical knowledge became a necessity. It takes no more than a few seconds for the med scanner to display its verdict.

“None of your broken ribs are displaced, but stitching that leg up is going to be an absolute joy.” Crosshair snarks, making Wrecker huff in amusement. That in turn makes him pull a face, pressing his hand firmly to his injured side. Crosshair uses that distraction to get a hypo of painkillers in him before Wrecker can argue about it. With his free hand now at his neck, Wrecker shoots Crosshair a look, offended at his brothers deceit.

After disinfecting the injury, Crosshair is proven right: sewing the laceration on Wreckers thigh together is a pain, both for him and his vod. Despite the painkillers and numbing spray applied, Wrecker's in obvious agony as Crosshair pulls the jagged edges of the wound together. He manages to hold remarkably still, making Crosshair's tedious job easier.

Crosshair is only halfway through by the time Tech and Hunter return. Both linger near Crosshair and Wrecker for a moment, asking questions and standing in Crosshairs light.

Crosshair doesn't voice his annoyance. Them conversing with Wrecker is no doubt a welcome distraction from the pain for the large clone. After they've both looked at the med scanner, as well as asked Crosshair if he needs help, Tech and Hunter finally clear off.

Once the injury is closed up and re-bandaged, there's not much more he can do for Wrecker. He grabs a cold pack from the medkit, kneading it one handedly to activate the chemicals inside as he looks for Lula. Once the stuffed tooka is retrieved, Crosshair tosses both the items to Wrecker, who grins at the sight of the stuffed animal he's grown unbelievably attached to over the years.

Sitting down next to Wrecker on his uninjured side, Crosshair leans his head against his brothers shoulder. Saying the right thing to make his vode fell better isn't one of Crosshair's skills. But offering comfort through proximity, in a small way like this? That he can do.

Going off of Wreckers tired but content sigh, it's working.

Next to him, Wrecker's practising the breathing exercises Tech taught him to do when his ribs are broken. The first few times he sustained a similar injury, Tech had to constantly remind him to do them. Now, he does them automatically.

“Thanks for watching my back.” Crosshair says.

“It was nothing, Cross. If anything I should be thanking you. You had to drag me all the way to the Marauder!” Wrecker retorts, smile in his voice. Crosshair sighs. There's no point in trying to get Wrecker to accept gratitude for something like this.

They've been on mission after mission for two and a half weeks now. Crosshair hopes they'll be afforded a break. The whole squads tired, lack of sleep and constant combat stacking up over the rotations. Everyone's baring minor half healed injuries, and now with the state Wrecker's in, pushing on wouldn't be advisable.

Not that any of this would stop Wrecker. Crosshair knows that his ori'vod would keep on fighting if asked to, even if he'd have to do so fuelled solely by caf and pain meds.

At some point, Wrecker falls asleep leaning against Crosshair. He scoffs when he notices, but wouldn't dream of moving or waking his vod. Crosshair will most likely fall asleep himself some time soon. For now, he sits looking around the Marauder uninterestedly, studying the posters on the walls in detail, whilst his brother snores softly next to him.

[sweetpiccolo-blog]

Hiya! Hope you're having a nice day/night!

I'm here for the matchups so let me begin quickly!

◆ I am 162 cm tall, I have really dark brown hair and I also have hazel eyes.

◆ I know fluent Turkish (native), C1 English, B2 Azerbaijan Turkish and a little bit of A2/B1 German.

◆ I'm ISFJ 6w5 and I'm apparently an Aquarius. (I don't care for zodiac signs lmao-)

◆ My hobbies include sewing, cooking/baking, cycling, drawing, reading, drumming, photography, gaming, learning new languages and etc.

◆ Likes: Geography, citrus fruits, nature, cartoons, swing sets, cold weather...

◆ Dislikes: Insects, bad grammar, crowds, public speaking...

◆ I have no preferences but my favourite is Seb, that should tell a lot about me. (:

Thanks for taking your time to read this, have a great day! 🧿

- Ani

HI ANI!!! I am so excited to finally do your ask. I really hope you like it <3 I did not give you Seb because you are literally him so I decided to match you up with someone I feel like you would love spending time with.

This is only my opinion, so be sure to let me know what you think about it later : )

LET US GET STARTED!

Header by @dvluc

Your match is...

☆Alex Albon☆

You and Alex are serious when you need to be but that’s like 5% percent of the time, maybe less. You bet you both would be goofing around all day every day. But you are responsible and reliable. That being said, if there is a problem I think you both would come to a solution pretty quickly and even if there is a problem, there’s not much of them between you two.

Languages! You know many, he does few so that means… learning from each other! He would be amazed by your linguistic skills. I feel like he could teach you some Thai phrases maybe something about Thai cuisine too since he loves food. You would actually crush him with your rich vocabulary. Always blurring out something which sounds like gibberish to him but then you would laugh it off, slow down and translate what you just said. It is a very symbiotic way of learning for both of you.

You have incredible trust in each other. And also loyalty. You two would die for one another without a question. You are practically connected, inseparable. If there is you, Alex must be somewhere around and that works the other way around too.

I can see you dropping some geography facts here and there and Alex just looking at you as if you grew another head. He remembers them though and then flexes in front of George or Lando.

MEMES. Memes everywhere. No matter which app you communicate through there are loads and loads of memes. Nonstop.

When you agree on something together you do it. Even if it`s a spontaneous trip. One of you says the idea out loud, other one agrees and boom a plan is born. Backing a huge cake in the middle of the week? Why not. Getting out on the bikes for a whole day till the sun goes down? Yes please. Taking random pictures of everyone during the rawe ceek and then laughing at them? Uh-huh. Designing t-shirts with some cool design? Ya bet.

Gaming nights are a thing at your house. When there is no race, you buy the newest game and play together. No matter the genre. You even call the guys from Twitch to join you.

You both love nature! Although Alex is more of summer and sea guy and you a wintery gial. You will find something that both of you can enjoy. Just being outside makes you recharge your batteries.

BONUS: You avoid crowds as much as possible but that is not easy while dating an F1 driver, so you and Alex come up with ridiculous outfits to blend in and somehow they always work, nobody suspects a thing. You try to make existing in a crowd less of a burden and just have fun.

ENJOY! 💙💙💙

[sapricorn]

hello cyan!

i've been on a hunt for people's top 10 lists! would you be so kind as to share with me your faves for these? i'd really appreciate it!

a) movies b) shows (anime included) c) games (mobile included) d) books (manga not included :( ) e) music artists

i know it's a lengthy ask but if you would find the time for these, i would appreciate it so much really! <3

q.

Hello Q! I'm sorry it took me so long to respond, you gave me much to think about! Don't know why you collect these answers but I hope you enjoy them!

Some categories were hard to figure out but it was nice trying to remind myself my favorites.

a) top 10 movies

Princess Mononoke (1997) (easy pick, I love this one the most)

Dead Poet Society (1989)

Indiana Jones series (1981-1989) (I can stomach the Crystal Skull but I'd rather not to?)

Lord of The Rings series (2001-2003)

Pelíšky/Cozy Dens (1999) (A Czech movie that literally means Christmas to me - it is a must to watch with my dad on Christmas Eve, the only tradition about that day that I actually enjoy, it's full of czech humour and history)

Noc na Karlštejně/A Night at Karlstein (1974) (Another Czech movie, or actually a musical that I know all the songs to, seen an adaptation in theatre and it was lit as fuck)

Angélique series (1964-1968) (quite a questionable movie series in terms of sexual themes and women's rights but I do attribute my queer awakening to this character and that needs to wield some weight)

Children of Men (2006)

Batman (2005-2012 Nolan Trilogy)

Isle of Dogs (2018) (the first time I went over to my girlfriend's, we watched this... amazing movie, amazing memory.. amazing girlfriend <3)

(my practice animation of a Princess Mononoke scene for English class)

b1) top 10 shows (no anime)

(I don't watch that many shows that are not anime so this list is not really most to least favorite - only the top 3 are sorted, the rest is just written out)

Avatar: The Last Airbender (animated, not the Netflix one)

Castlevania

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Game of Thrones

The Boys

Invincible

The 100 (the first few seasons, the ending is insane, me not likey)

Helluva Boss

Arcane

The Umbrella Academy

b2) top 10 shows (only anime)

Wolf's Rain (watched it once years ago... will never watch it again because it causes me anguish, I love it though)

Yuri!! on Ice (it's a once-a-month watch)

Dr. Stone (during exam season I play it on repeat: 1st+2nd season on day 1, Ryuusui Special+3rd season on day 2, repeat!)

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

The 86

Sasaki To Miyano (healing my little gay heart)

Ao No Exorcist (I love the manga and the movie!!! show is just okay)

Death Note

Kimetsu no Yaiba (the first manga I've ever read from start to finish was this one and therefore the show holds a special place in my heart - also the quote on most my sites: "Growing old and dying is the beauty of the fleeting creature called a human being" is from the manga and also hanging on my wall, it's my fave manga panel ever)

SK8 The Infinity

Honorable mentions: Boku No Hero Academia, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Jujutsu Kaisen, Trigun & Trigun Stampede, 91 Days, Bungo Stray Dogs, Black Clover, Gintama, Link Click, Heaven Official's Blessing :)

c) top 10 games

(going to be completely honest...I have not played a single video game before 2019 - my family thinks games cause rotten brains and I agree with that statement, at the same time I love games.. justf FYI I am very inexperienced)

(another note: I LOVE open worlds - I like climbing shit and falling off cliffs, I love going on my own and fighting shit and solving puzzles)

Genshin Impact

Assassin's Creed (I love Brotherhood, have and like 2nd and Odyssey, have but haven't played Syndicate yet, HATE Unity [the controls suck ass], I watched some gameplay of other games, I love the series overall)

Honkai: Star Rail

The Witcher

Tears of Themis (I try and play alot of games like this but they don't have Vyn Richter so what's the point of them really? [insert megamind meme: no vyn richter?])

Minecraft (I like building, and one of my last memories with one of my besties was from multiplayer, I have our last world saved with a mausoleum in the place of his spawn - it keeps precious memories)

NU:Carnival (the fashion is offensively awesome, big inspiration for my character designs sometimes)

Legend of Zelda (sounds and looks like a game I would love but I have yet to experience it on my own)

The Silent Age (first game I owned on my own and played start to finish without anybody else's input, it's very simple and somewhat boring but I like the vibe and I like the independence I felt while playing it)

Destiny 2 (my PC has issues running it but I absolutely love it, also I have like 40 gifs of myself just dancing in this game..)

d) top 10 books

Krysař/The Ratcatcher by Viktor Dyk (1915) (fell in love with this Czech required reading book during middle school, read it again for high school finals, still love it to this day)

Demian by Hermann Hesse (1919)

Sandman Slim by Richard Kadrey - the series has I think 12 books running 2009-2021 but I only have the first 3 (2009-2011) however they deserve to be on this list since I've read them like 13 times)

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard by Rick Riordan (2015-2017) (I also enjoy his series with egyptian gods but Magnus Chase slayed)

The Inheritance Cycle: Eragon, Eldest, Brisingr, Inheritance by Christopher Paolini (2003-2011)

The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis (1950-1956)

Lady Pokingham Or They All Do It by allegedly Oscar Wilde (1879) (it's an erotica, a guilty pleasure of mine)

Smrt Krásných Srnců/Death of Beautiful Roebucks by Ota Pavel (1971) (another Czech gem really)

Note to Self by Connor Franta (2017)

Witch Hat Atelier by Kamome Shirahama (2016-present) (I know you said no manga, but it's so beautiful! I even used it as a reference literature to my bachelor thesis - I HAVE to include it!)

e) top 10 music artists

(this list was an absolute struggle, I don't listen to music that much, and since my girlfriend has just such a great taste in music I mostly don't focus on anything and just go along with their recs)

Stray Kids (a remnant of high school days when I listened to alot of kpop - I still listen to some others but Stray Kids are precious to me)

Silverchair (my favorite rock band)

bbno$

Citizen Soldier (some of their music quite literally kept me alive through some rough nights)

Lemon Demon [two trucks holding hands~, two trucks holding hands~, the passion, the passion, is more than I can withstand~~]

Takayan (たかやん)

CORPSE!

Grim Salvo

grandson

Nathan Wagner

I do listen to a lot of anime opening songs, and movie or game soundtracks and also to literally anything you make into nightcore version lmao.

Anyway, that's all I have <3 Thank you for this ask, Q!

[artleaguemdcnorth]

DRAWING CLASS - ASYNCHRONOUS THURSDAY 10/26/23

This class will review the instructions for the Midterm on Tuesday of next week.

For today, choose 4-5 objects from the selection of objects you will be using for the midterm.

You are working on a preliminary study of what will become the possible composition for Midterm that will begin next week.

This is just a study to analyze the narrative and the composition.

Use a light source to emphasize the direction of light. And work with graphite pencils so you can get used to it.

We will discuss at large the information below next week on Tuesday.

For now , read the instructions below , write down questions you might need to ask next week in class.

Bring the study to class on Tuesday so we can review and critique your study.

Materials for Midterm, see below:

Choose between buying handmade paper below or using Bristol

Bristol or

Arches handmade paper , 22x30 , hot press 120lbs.

Graphite pencils ONLY .

Kneaded eraser.

MIDTERM ASSIGNMENT - Review

This assignment is going to take many hours of work beyond class time.

A good assignment starts with a good prop.

I have been trying to instill that idea on all of you since the first day.  

There is no reason to have a pop tart box in your midterm assignment or an olive oil bottle unless you are making a statement about nutrition or genetically modified ingredients in foods.

There are two components to your assignment this time, narrative and technical skills.

Narrative relates to your critical thinking skills and technical relates to your ability to define form through value.

You need to find a lighting condition that can let you express form. Adding a lamp or directional light will help you create a dramatic effect.

You will be using graphite pencils that range in value from HB to B8 .

Using a pencil requires that you use the side on the lead and not the point.

You do not want to scratch the paper , you want to render soft values that are blended as you work.

Smudging the paper is not a solution to developing values.

Value is developed by using various pencil grades.

HB is middle tone.

B1 is lighter than B4 but darker than HB.

I suggest you do some value charts with your pencils on your sketchbook .

Get in the habit of testing your values as you work.

Another tip that I can share, is that you use a tissue paper so that you do not smudge and stain the paper as you work.

This assignment will be graded at 30% of your overall class grade.

It is important that you treat the execution with outmost care.

I  included below an A grade assignment from a previous student for you to consider as you begin your assignment.

You will have time to work on this beginning Thursday Nov.2 through Nov. 20 at 5 pm,  TO COMPLETE THIS ASSIGNMENT.

You will be working on this assignment at home on your own. 

I will look into giving you class time on to also work on it.

You will also need to work on this assignment during Thursdays and homework time .

Tuesday 5/21st , bring the completed assignment for a class for a critique.

The work by Lorena below took 40 hours to get to that stage of development. You can not work on this assignment for 40 hours at a time.

It will require a slow and methodic engagement of many days and weeks to complete this.

Do not procrastinate, pace yourself, it can be done.

Homework time after class beginning today :

Make sure to post progress on your Tumblr for each day you are working on this assignment. i want students to show progress of assignment from the first day to the last.

Include a photo of your still life reference only on for the first day of this sequence , meaning today.

This is a Midterm Exam grade worth 30% of your overall class grade and you have to do it on your own.

I can not give you suggestions , I have already given you two examples of what an A grade assignment looks like.

This assignment can not look like your class work.

It needs to be superior in quality and content.

I have provided you with tools, artworks, history and other information to assist you in doing a good job.

Now you need to rise to the occasion to meet this challenge.

IMPORTANT NOTES AND TIPS :

1) Unless you are a shoemaker you should not include shoes in your drawing.

2) You should not include objects that are larger than the rest of your objects (footballs, basketballs, guitars, golf bag).

3) Your Still Life needs to be in a proper pedestal , table or platform with a backwall and proper lighting source.

4) I will include a video above of how to make a shadow box to improve your lighting and your imagery.

It is up to you if you want to use it or not.

This is a tool used by artist to create an atmosphere and lighting ambience for drama.

The shadow box can not be included in your drawing is just a tool to help you see shadows and value contrasts.

5) You cannot use charcoal pencils only Graphite Pencils.

6) Your objects cannot float so you must include reference to the horizon line , that is were your platform and the wall meet.

7) There are other students in this class, reach out to them. Feel free to seek peer support from each other back and forth. Share suggestions and photos and process of your work .

Tuesday is the day to ask any questions during class.

Bring all questions at that time.  

Please see student work below:

Excellent Artwork

Good set up but with an unfinished background.

A

B

C

Remember today you are doing what we call a preliminary study using only 5-6 objects and studying how light shapes the forms.

Bring your work to class on Tuesday.

MATERIALS FOR NEXT TUESDAY :

BRISTOL PAPER

BLACK INK

BRUSHES

[tampabanana]

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[crispyjenkins]

Me again, hope you don’t mind... anyways could you do Cody and Obi wan First Meeting out of Cody’s POV and he slowly realizes that this isn’t you usual Jedi general but that Obi-Wan Kenobi is not only beautiful but also 1. Incredibly good at words 2. Actually cares about the Vode 3. For that reason dislikes fighting and casualties and actually shows his compassion to the Vode 4. Is an absolute badass and 5. Absolutely insane

(Obi-Wan defying the troopers' expectations is the reason i'm alive, and the vode being intimidated by this scary magic man only to find out he's a reckless dumbass who cares more about them than actually winning the war is just. yes. not actually sure how it happened in canon, my brain is being mean, but canon is nebulous and i do what i want. 

so here's Cody being surprised by Obi-Wan's endless love for absolutely everybody, and obi being surprised that Cody is surprised.)

  Cody is running on six hours of sleep in two days following General Rret So’s reassignment, and he isn’t even close to being finished cleaning up that... disaster. They’ve got a new batch of shinies to paint and name, bodies to bury, a new general to meet, and to be honest, Cody doesn’t have all too high hopes for their next one. It’s already kriffing clear that none of the Jedi have proper military training, and while Cody isn’t one for gossip, he’s also heard rumors that Kenobi hasn’t been in the field since Geonosis. And they want him to lead an attack battalion.

  But when Cody arrives in the hangar of their current outpost to make sure it’s in shape before Kenobi arrives, there’s a Jedi near the center of the room, sitting on the floor. Or sitting... a few inches above the floor, only one hand gently touching the durasteel below him, and Cody halts just inside the door.

  It doesn’t take much to guess his identity, what with the Jedi robe mostly pooled on the floor, whose edges drift in lazy swirls. The man has his eyes closed, several small stones levitating in equally lazy spins around him, but the casual show of power doesn’t put Cody on edge the way their Nautolan general had; the air around Rret felt like static when he meditated, but General Kenobi effuses warmth and calm, his expression as thoughtful as it is peaceful. 

  Cody skeptically takes in the armor under Kenobi’s robe, modified clone armour; General Rret never touched anything not sent directly from the Temple. And Kenobi is... smaller than Cody had expected of the famed Negotiator that had helped lead at the Battle of Geonosis, more lithe, more compact. His hair is longer than regulation (not that that has ever stopped Tup), just enough to pull back, with an endearing curl that’s escaped the elastic floating at his temple.

  Cody was created for problem solving, for analyzing patterns and information where his rank-and-file brothers could not, but all these little details just leave him confused.

  The stones gently and slowly settle back onto the ground, followed by the general as he inhales a deep breath, and that aura of tranquility does not leave when he opens his eyes. 

  And then he smiles at Cody.

  Cody snaps a salute, nerves jumping despite the general’s expression, and tries to raise his mental shields like Jango had taught them to. “General, sir,” he greets, keeping his gaze just below Kenobi’s eyes, which unfortunately has him pinned on his lips.

  “Commander Cody,” he returns warmly in High Coruscanti, rising in a fluid motion and holding out a hand. Cody stares at it for a moment before he realises General Kenobi means to shake his hand, and he almost thinks it’s a trap, but he hesitantly reaches out all the same. That smile grows as Kenobi then moves to grip Cody’s forearm like any proper Mando, tapping his other fist to the center of his chest. “It’s good to finally meet you, Commander: I’ve been assured that we will work quite well together.”

  Reeling, Cody almost forgets to respond. “Sir?”

  “I’ve heard nothing but compliments from your men, and from other battalions; Captain Rex in particular speaks very highly of you.”

  Does he know Cody was almost court martialed for arguing with General Rret? Does he know about the multiple complaints submitted by the Nautolan for insubordination? 

  The way Kenobi’s eyes crinkle at the corners doesn’t assure him that he had. “I like to get my information from multiple sources,” Kenobi explains, finally releasing Cody to tuck his arms behind his back almost at parade rest. “You’re here a bit early, aren’t you? Excellent, that gives us some time to chat before your men arrive.”

  It’s enough that General Kenobi went out of his way to learn his name, and then use it, leaving Cody absolutely helpless as Kenobi launches in questions about the cleanup from Rret’s departure.

-

  Kenobi growls like a stampeding reek as their next assault goes to kriffing shit. No sooner had Kenobi managed to greet Ghost Company, that the call to arms had blared through the outpost, a droid battalion approaching from the South. Which was something Rret had apparently anticipated but not felt the need to tell anyone, including the High Generals.

  And Kenobi had loaded up with the rest of them, speaking quickly with the pilot, and surely his general wasn’t planning on— on actually fighting with them? 

  But he had indeed leapt from the transport into the dense forest right alongside him, and Cody had realised, kriff, he has to try and keep this crazy Jedi alive long enough for him to ask what the kriff he’s thinking.

  And then things just keep going wrong, from misinformation about droid numbers, to being cornered in a ravine, to Cody having to step over a Shiny that hadn’t even been named yet. Kenobi whirls through the droids with his lightsaber, but the B1s seem to just keep coming, and Cody has almost resigned himself to dying here, because Rret would never let them change the plan this far in—

  “Commander!” Kenobi shouts, shoving a B2 droid off his ‘saber. “Full retreat! Evac is inbound, get your men to the top of the ridge!”

  “Sir?”

  Appearing at Cody’s side and handing him a fresh blaster, Kenobi’s serene expression is traded for troubled rage, but it’s by some miracle not aimed at the vode. “We’re not winning here today,” Kenobi says, jerking his chin towards the ridge as he tugs Cody behind a boulder. “We need to regroup, your medic is already overrun.”

  Which doesn’t quite compute. It’s not as if they haven’t lost entire squads in similar conditions, what does Kenobi hope to achieve by—

  “I’ll hold them off,” he says, making Cody choke on his spit. “As long as I can.”

  “General!” By the Force, he can’t honestly think that Cody will let him stay behind, that Cody will leave him here.

  “That’s an order, I’m not losing any more men today,” Kenobi says firmly. He checks around the boulder before spinning back to Cody. “I was told you were by the book, that you were a stellar soldier with his brothers’ best interest at heart. Are you going to make me a fool for believing that?”

  “General, I don’t think—”

  “I’ve given you an order, Commander. Retreat. I will meet you back at the outpost.”

  Swallowing down the urge to throw up, Cody nods and salutes, and prays to whatever deity listening that he’ll wake up tomorrow with absolutely no memory of today.

  Kenobi gives him a small smile, before reigniting his ‘saber and rushing back into the battle.

-

  Cody is just beginning to wonder if they’re going to have to get another new general when Kenobi shows up in the last search party before they call it off for the night, stepping off the transport with several more injured brothers that hadn’t made it back with the first two evacs. A squad of shinies runs up to get the stretches to the medbay that is indeed overrun, but Cody doesn’t worr— can’t worry about that right now, marching up to Kenobi with a comm disk.

  “Sir, welcome back,” he greets, taking quick stock of the minor grazes on Kenobi’s face, how limp his hair has turned, but he otherwise seems fine, which is a miracle in it of itself. “High General Mundi—”

  “Later,” Kenobi cuts him off, not unkindly, but with an air of unspeakable exhaustion. “Master Rret So restationed your secondary medics, yes?”

  “Yes, sir, but what—?”

  Kenobi nods once and starts to follow the shinies, Cody matching pace with him even as he’s sure he’s broadcasting his confusion into the Force. Kenobi offers him a tiny smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Your brothers aren’t going to last the night if I don’t go help Wupi, and you’re horrendously undermanned as it is.”

  Another name casually thrown out, as if General Rret hadn’t even bothered to learn their numbers, and if Cody wasn’t already a whirlwind of emotions, he might have some feelings about that. Later. Everything later.

  A thought occurs to him. “Sir, General Rret said they were needed elsewhere. The secondary medics.”

  They arrive at the medbay that is in utter chaos, too small to house so many vode, already filled from their last skirmish and now completely overflowing. Kenobi looks around almost as if he’s going to cry, before he clenches his jaw and turns to Cody.

  “General Rret was mistaken. I hailed the 501st from the transport, they’ll be here tomorrow afternoon, but until then, it’s my duty to keep your men alive. Can you help me do that, Cody?”

  Cody simply nods, wondering if he had been concussed during the battle. “Yes, sir. What do you need.”

  “I need every sheet you can spare, and the emergency medkits from all the transports. I need you to hold off General Mundi until morning, I know he’s expecting a long conversation. And please, tell him in no uncertain terms that I plan to have very harsh words with his former padawan as soon as the 501st arrive.” Kenobi takes a deep breath, seeming to draw energy in from everywhere, and then puts a hand on the side of Cody’s neck for the briefest moment. Almost like static shock, Cody flinches, but suddenly doesn’t feel so exhausted, and he blinks down at Kenobi.

  “That should hold you over until morning, I trust you to handle the rest of the outpost?” He raises a single brow, but kriff if Cody is going to tell him no.

  “Yes, sir.” He salutes, feeling a green warmth brushing against his mind that certainly was not there before, but belongs there all the same. 

  That warmth stays with him long after the 501st arrives with aid, and Cody intends to hold onto it for as long as his cannon-fodder life allows. 

[mangobilorian]

before i die, i’m tryna fuck you, baby | (explicit)

Kix x F! Reader

Words: 4158

"A leg hooks around his waist, tugging him closer, and Kix has to stop himself from careening into your half-naked body. Lips attach to his, and there’s nothing soft there, only teeth and tongue and heat."

Tags: [Dubious Consent][Sex Pollen][Fuck or Die][Oral Sex][Rough Sex][Doggy][Missionary]

Read on AO3 here

Kix is furious. For many reasons, the first being the lack of planning on General Skywalker’s part and, being a soldier in the 501st for so long, Kix is not surprised. But it doesn’t mean he has to accept or condone it. 

Kix also hates how the entire situation went wrong when it shouldn’t have, despite General Skywalker’s disastrous plan. Because his idea, though reckless and unsafe, would have at least kept most of the men out of danger. They had prepared for the Seppie advance on the eastern front, keeping most of the fire and manpower there, which left the west and north sparsely guarded. 

But no, the Seppies just had to come from the west, trapping a portion of the troops in the scary, unknown forest full of chemicals.

Rex and the ARCs got most of the men out in time thankfully. Kix counted them as they passed by, the sealed helmets keeping out most, if not all, of the strange chemicals the flowers produced. Peter, Lens, Nero. Lloyd, Gadget, Boot. Regs, Gearshift, Mezro. Wait no, not Mezro, that was Fives. But that meant-

You had arrived at the same conclusion Kix had. 

Which leads to the biggest reason why Kix is furious. The rescued troopers, though not exposed, still suffered injuries from the droids they had encountered. Fives, Echo, and Rex would have gone back into the forest for Mezro, but the crashing sound of another droid battalion called their attention elsewhere. 

When he had looked back for you, you were already running into the forest without the proper gear. Which, as a nurse, was a stupid thing to do. And, as Kix’s girlfriend (isn’t that a nice thing to say), you should’ve known better. But you’re too brash, too headstrong, too willing to sacrifice yourself if it meant others would live. Sometimes Kix wonders if you would be better as a soldier than a nurse but- only clones served and died for the Republic. 

He paces around the base, his path blocked by Jesse and Echo.

“It’ll be okay, Kix. She’s fine,” Echo reasons. “The General and Rex are out there looking for her and Mezro.” Kix knows that. He knows he shouldn’t worry. Because Skywalker is one of the best Jedi and Rex is one of the best clones, and they’ll make it back with you and Mezro in tow. 

But that still doesn’t stop him from being angry. Yes, part of it is at you, even though it feels wrong. You don’t deserve his negative emotions, but you’re too damn reckless and caring to ever think about yourself. 

Kix will always care for you, but sometimes it’s hard when he also has a hundred brothers to care for. Instead of running after you, he patched up Reg’s knee and Lloyd’s arm. He gave Gearshift some meds, Gadget a stim, and used the bone mender on Nero’s shin. Kix helped them before he could feed all his energy into waiting for you. 

He helped them despite wanting to dash after you immediately. Because his brothers need him just as much as Mezro needs you to come back and save him. It also kills Kix a little on the inside that, if he had to choose, he’d probably pick you over his brothers. 

A traitor, he’d call himself. A man in love, Fives would say, winking, wishing for his own cyare. If only Fives knew how much work it takes to be in a healthy, loving relationship. How much work it takes to love someone during a war.

“She didn’t have proper gear, Echo. What if the chemicals kill her? What then?” And oh how that thought pains him so much. Kix doesn’t know how he could survive your death. He can’t just light a pyre and sing a song like he does for his vod. The love he has for his brothers is strong like their plastoid armor, strong enough that the death of a brother won’t shatter him, and he can wish them well as they walk to the next life. 

But you? Fuck, Kix would grieve for you for eternity. 

“Look, Rex brought an extra helmet for her and some meds. If she’s sick, the meds will tide her over until she gets the medical help she needs,” Jesse says, placing hands on Kix’s shoulders. His own face stares back at him, but instead of the worry and concern Kix feels, he sees determination. “And when she and Mezro come back, you need to be strong for her.” 

“I know. It’s just that- I should’ve been the one to find Mezro.” Echo shakes his head. 

“She’s a great nurse, but she doesn’t have nearly as much experience as you do with combat medicine. Yeah, she’s been with us for a year, but you know clone bio better than any civvie.” Kix sighs, but the anger lingers. It’s ebbing away, yes, because his brothers always know how to calm him down but- he knows he’d be a lot calmer if you were here. Here and happy and home with him.

“Fives!” Kix, Jesse, and Echo turn at the sound of Rex’s voice, strained and hampered. The ARC trooper hurries to the edge of the forest where General Skywalker walks, arms full with a limp Mezro. In Rex’s arms, you sag, head lolling around in the much-too-large helmet.

Kix’s first instinct is to run over and take you away, hiding you from prying eyes and keeping you safe. But Jesse’s arm tugs on the crook of his elbow. “See, she’s back. Get your head straight, Kix, so you can help her.” Kix nods, a little dazed, and walks forward at a slower pace than he’d like. 

“Mezro has a broken ankle and shattered hip bone, I think,” General Skywalker says gently handing the injured trooper off to Fives and Echo. “But your girl’s fine, Kix.” For a moment, Kix feels guilty. He spent so much time worrying over you when Mezro had worse injuries. Injuries that could put him off of duty for a while, and he knows, compared to many brothers, that Mezro has a larger thirst for droid deaths than most. Which was probably one of the reasons he had stayed behind, determined to kill every last B1 on field. 

“Right, I’ll take a look at him. Will you…?” 

“Yeah, I’ll take her to your quarters,” Rex replies. “I did a quick scan, and her vitals seem fine, but-”

“But what?”

“She keeps asking for you. And squirming. The general put a sleep suggestion on her. It was… weird and a little disturbing. She wouldn’t even let me approach until I said your name,” Rex shrugs as best as he can while carrying your weight.

Squirming, signs of distress… Kix doesn’t like what he’s hearing. But at least you seem fine.

“All right. I’d best work on Mezro. Jesse, remind me in ten minutes to give Peter and Nero another shot of the antibacterial.” Kix helps Echo and Fives lower Mezro onto a bed wheeled out from the medbay. “Thank you,” he says, turning to Rex, then to his general. “For saving her.” 

“Of course, Kix,” General Skywalker responds. “I’d do the same if I were you.” His general’s face flushes a deep red. “Not that I- uh- even know what relationships are like. Or anything.” At his troopers' knowing looks, the Hero With No Fear dashes away with an awkward smile. Right. He’s probably off to comm Senator Amidala. 

Kix spares one last glance at your unconscious form, carried away by Rex before turning his attention to Mezro. Jesse claps a hand on his back, covered hand meeting hard plastoid, and waltzes away, the ARCs in tow. He wheels Mezro to the makeshift med bay, minding the other injured troopers.

Mezro wakes up about halfway through Kix fixing his ankle with the bone-mender. Groggy and in pain, Mezro mutters nonsensical things. Like how you were an angel who came to save him. And how the angel cried for Kix before falling to the ground. Kix administers a pain reliever right before Mezro goes back to sleep, and Kix is left with more questions than before. 

He gets to work on Mezro’s hip and feels placated by the fact that Mezro probably only needs two weeks of recovery before being put on light duty then another week of waiting to get shipped to active. Most nat-born medics, even you, are surprised at the clones’ growth rate. But Kix isn’t. He’s proud. Because his brothers are the best kriffing soldiers in the galaxy, so of course they’ll heal faster too.

All in all, Kix finishes up with Mezro’s injuries in less than an hour, despite leaving to administer anti-bac to Peter and Nero and checking up on Lloyd’s arm. He gives the trooper a small pat on the shoulder, leaving him sleeping and patched up. 

Kix’s stomach ties itself into knots the closer he approaches his quarters. He had Jesse do another scan while Kix worked on Mezro, too nervous to see you. Jesse had come back saying you were physically fine, but mentally… off. Apparently you kept calling for Kix over and over again. To the point where you were moaning in pain. He doesn’t know of any disease that would warrant that response.

He pushes the door open to find you sprawled across his bed. Your eyes open a little bit, glazed and confused. But you immediately spring up in recognition, and try to get out of bed. Kix stops you in time as you almost fall off in excitement, placing you down to sit on the edge. 

“Kix,” you breathe. “I’m so happy to see you.” 

“I’m happy to see you too. How do you feel?” You shake your head, hands reaching out to unclasp his chest plate. He lets you, arching a brow when you moan as soon as you drop his armor on the floor, fingers tracing his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yes. Please, Kix, I- need you- want- inside-” 

Your hand reaches behind his back to the zipper of his blacks and tug down. Before his bare chest is revealed though, Kix grabs at your wrists, gently pushing you away. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, why you’re so excited for him to the point of speaking incoherently. “What’s happening?” He brushes his knuckles over your forehead then your neck to find you burning. 

Kriff, you definitely have a fever. Kix doesn’t know how Jesse and Rex forgot to mention that to him. He places a palm on your neck again, worrying more and more as you feel like pure fire. “Sweetheart, you need to listen to me.” 

You shake your head, eyes glazed over, tongue lolling out of your mouth. You look like every fantasy Kix has at night, every inch the sexy goddess you are but- Kix doesn’t entertain those thoughts. Especially since you’re sick. 

When your knee brushes against his inner thigh, Kix curses loudly. That seems to startle you out of your haze, and you back off a bit, mouth closing. Sighing, Kix leans in to take your shirt off and finds the fabric soaked with sweat. Fuck, how did no one notice? Is everyone in the goddamn GAR incompetent? 

Once your chest meets open air, though, you try to unclasp your bra, pushing your chest into Kix. “Please,” you moan— no, mewl— eyes half-lidded. “Need you now, Kix. Want you-  fuck- really really really-”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” he says, gently wiping your wet back with your discarded shirt. He still doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he’s determined to help you, to stop whatever is going on. Whatever it takes. “Lean back for me, okay? I’m just going to take your pants off and put you in some clean clothes. Clear?” You nod, but Kix can tell you don’t really understand what he’s saying. It hurts his chest to see you so out of it.

He unclasps the button holding your pants closed and slides them down your legs. At any other time, he’d ogle you, watch intently as each inch of skin reveals itself to him. But right now, when you’re not in your right mind, Kix can only focus on getting you the help you need. His fantasies can wait. 

Except it’s hard to shove horny thoughts out of his head when the first thing you do once your pants are gone is shove a hand into your panties and begin rubbing yourself.

Fuck. 

“I don’t think that’s a very good-”

A leg hooks around his waist, tugging him closer, and Kix has to stop himself from careening into your half-naked body. Lips attach to his, and there’s nothing soft there, only teeth and tongue and heat. His head empties then fills with one word. 

You. 

You. Sucking his cock. Taking him from behind. Riding him in full armor. Fingering yourself. You, you, you-

“H-hurts,” you whisper, and Kix jolts back like he’s been burnt. In fact, he feels like he’s been burnt because every place you touch him— his lips, his face, his fucking thigh— tingles with a sensation akin to fire. 

Kix stares at you in horror. You’re hurt, and all he can do is thirst over you? Kriffing hells, he’s a monster, not the gallant medic trooper you think he is. 

“Where does it hurt? Give me a number on the scale for pain, sweetheart. Can you do that for-”

 “Ten!” you gasp, “everywhere, b-but it’s thirteen down here,” you point to your underwear. Kix watches as clear fluid drips and coats your thighs. “Please, please, please, need you i-in me, please Kix, m-more, I can’t, I-”

Fuck, you look like you’re on the verge of tears, face flushed and contorted in pain. But he can only watch as you rub yourself furiously, not stopping even when Kix knows the pressure you’re applying is painful. Kriff— you said you “need” him and want him to- to 

“If I penetrate you, will you feel better?” Kix cringes at the wording, but he needs to make things clear, so he doesn’t hurt you or take advantage of your distressed state. You nod frantically in reply, pulling him closer until his armored thigh brushes against your center, and you grind against him.

For the first time, Kix registers how tight his blacks are. Fuck. He makes quick work of his codpiece, opening the zipper of his lower blacks, groaning in relief as his impossibly hard cock springs up to smack his stomach. You give a happy gasp, free hand reaching to him, and he can’t stop you— can’t do anything— as you begin rubbing him with the same pressure you use on yourself. 

And fuck- it feels good, your soft hand against his most sensitive part, but you’re going a little too hard, a little too fast, and Kix— though hard as plastoid— isn’t producing nearly enough precum to lubricate himself. So when you pull at the skin of his cock just a tad harder, he has no choice but to back off with a wince, his dick bouncing back to his stomach.

You pout at him, and he can see a stray tear slide down your cheek and- fuck, he leans over to kiss you, replacing the hand in your underwear with his own. If this is going to happen, Kix will make sure he does it right.

As he dips two fingers inside you, he can already tell you’re more than prepared for him. He sneaks a look to the edge of the bed and sees your underwear and the spot you’re sitting on soaked with your fluids. And kriff, it’s hot as fuck. 

Groaning, he guides you to lay on the bed, and you open your legs wide, knees butterflying on either side of you. Kix can only gulp as you tug your bra down, not even unclasping it, so that your tits can spring free. With both hands on each breast, you squeeze and pinch, moaning all the while. 

“Kiiiiiix. N-now, ne-need you right- fuck- deep in me,” you gasp. Kix can only surge forward, not bothering to slip your underwear off and sliding himself between your folds. As the underside of his head brushes past your clit, you moan loudly, loud enough that anyone passing by could hear you, but Kix doesn’t bother telling you to stay quiet. 

“I’m going to push in now, okay, sweetheart? Is that good?” You bite your lip as you shoot him a glare. 

“Fuck me, now, Kix, or else-” His head squeezes past your folds and into your cunt, all wet and tight, and Kix feels every nerve erupt into flames. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, pushing in until he bottoms out. He stays there for a bit, both of you panting. You look fucked out despite barely any foreplay or real sex, hair fanning across the bed, lips swollen. Kix wonders how he looks, if he looks as sexy to you as you to him. 

You hook your legs around his waist and move your hips up in time for him to thrust. With your legs trapping him, he can’t thrust as hard or deep as he wants to. So he grinds into you, pressing himself as deep as he can into your warm core. You moan into his mouth when he kisses you, gasping when he bites at your neck. Kix can feel your new wave of arousal as he sucks a hickey above your collarbone, almost bursting when you squeeze tightly around him. 

He wants to fuck you hard and fast, though, so he pushes your legs away from his waist, braces one hand on the bed as the other grips your hips, and starts pistoning into you. The movement is rough enough for your breasts to bounce, and Kix watches as your fingers dance to your clit, rubbing yourself with as much speed and urgency as before. 

You arch your back as Kix thrusts upwards, muttering incoherent phrases about how his cock makes you feel so good, how he’s strong and handsome and how you want him to have your babies. And fuck- the thought of you full with his child, breasts even larger almost makes him spill mid thrust.

“You want that, sweetheart? Want me to- kriff- fuck a baby into you?” You nod, tears spilling from your eyes, lips bleeding. Your cunt seems to agree because you squeeze tight, tight, tighter than he thought possible, and he squeezes your hip to tell you to ease up a little because he’s still a human after all; he has to be a kriffing god to resist you. 

But you don’t loosen up, still squeezing until Kix’s left with no choice but to pull away. You scream when he does, and Kix’s chest hurts enough at the sound that he wants to pound back inside you to keep you happy. But he has enough sense to flip you over, so your ass sticks up in the air, and he gives you a gentle slap, which you respond to with a soft moan. 

The scene of you on your elbows and knees, cunt dripping with clear fluid, body flushed and trembling is so erotic that Kix feels like he has to pay to see you like this. “Kix, now ple-ase, ugh-”

He enters you in one go, and you both groan. Kix reaches so much deeper in this position, and he immediately starts pounding at your ass, one hand tight on your hip as the other reaches around to paw at your chest. It takes two, maybe three thrusts for you to scream into the sheets, cunt tightening more than he thought possible.

The sensation is way too much for both his cock and his brain, and he finishes much earlier than he wanted. Fuck- he might as well use it to his advantage though, so he pulls your hips closer to his and leans over, his cum staying deep inside you. 

It feels nice to be connected like this, chest heaving against your back, mouth nipping at your shoulder. It’s nice and Kix can stay here forever, comfortable and sated. 

Until you start moving against him again, commanding him to keep fucking you. But he’s so tired, and his cock starts to get way too sensitive, so he pulls away and a trickle of white follows. Kix watches your cunt flutter, entranced as more of his release escapes you. He takes two fingers to push them back in, and you gasp when he re-enters you. 

“M-more, please. Kix?” You roll onto your back, legs opening wide to trap Kix between them. “More?” you plead, eyeing his softening cock. Fuck, he really wishes he were hard again, so he can fuck you until you feel better, but he’s only one man, and clones— though engineered humans— can’t get erections that soon. 

So he does the only thing that comes to mind. 

He kneels down so his mouth is level with your cunt, wraps his hands around your thighs to tug you closer, and dives in. 

Kix tastes his release, bitter and salty, but he mostly tastes you. He brushes his nose against your clit, and you wriggle away only for Kix to pull you back. His tongue enters you briefly, but he knows it’s not long enough to bring you any real pleasure, so he replaces his tongue with two, no, three fingers, and curves them upwards to reach that ultra sensitive spot they don’t teach in clone medic classes. 

Satisfied at your mumblings of pleasure, he circles his tongue around your clit, alternating between different patterns to no patterns at all. 

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck- Kix, I- fucking love you- kriff- your tongue, I-” 

He increases the pace of his fingers as he sucks on your clit, groaning as one of your hands grabs onto his hair and tugs. Kix sneaks a glance upwards and sees one of your hands massaging your right nipple, and fuck- Kix would love to be the one to do that. 

But right now his job is to eat you out like a starved man, and he’ll do the best fucking job he can. He feels like he’s drowning in your cunt, streams of your arousal staining his cheeks, his swollen lips, his chin. There’s only one thing that exists for him right now and that’s your aching body. 

It doesn’t take long— in fact, it happens sooner than Kix would like— for you to climax with his name on your lips. He continues finger fucking you, though, until you squirm away with a giggle. He notes, with pride, that your temp seems to be back to normal, no longer feverish. The biology of that, Kix will ponder on later, but at least he knows you feel a little better.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you smile, eyes drooping closed, “really good. Thank you,” you rasp. Kix moves your body to lie properly on the bed, with your head on his pillow and a blanket covering your body. He helps unclasp your bra then takes off your soaking wet underwear. It’s only when he tries to snuggle next to you that you stop him. 

“What’s wrong? Do you still hurt?” You laugh, lips curling into a shape Kix wants to kiss forever.

“Aren’t you going to take care of that?” you ask, pointing at him with your chin. Following your gaze, he trails his eyes down his chest to his stomach where-

Where his stiff cock stands proudly. Not the hardest he’s ever been, but hard enough to warrant action. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” you laugh breathily. “Round two?” 

“Are you serious? We just- you just-”

“Kix,” you pout, “most of the chemical is out of my system. Not all of it though.” The chemical. Who knew the flowers produced a highly potent aphrodisiac? Before he could recall more facts about the planet’s flora, you tug the blanket downwards to reveal your bare chest. “And I need you right now,” you plead, eyes shining with desire. 

“Are you sure? I just want to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart. You know that.” You roll your eyes, tongue darting out to lick at your lips. 

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll have to get help somewhere else.” Streaks of red flash through Kix’s eyes at the insinuation and he lunges at you, pulling you into his lap. You giggle all the while, nipping at his shoulders when he has most of you splayed across his thighs. 

“Now that isn’t good medic-patient protocol, is it?” 

“Nope,” you giggle. Kix imagines you riding him like this, grinding hard and fast as he thrusts upwards to meet your hips. He guides his cock to your center, both of you groaning as he slips inside easily. 

“I guess it’s time for your next dosage, sweetheart,” he grins, and you lean into his lips as he takes you exactly how he fantasized. 

[a/n] I hope you like this! Kix is the first of the many beloved SW boys I will be writing about. So far, I have unedited stories for Boba, Maul, and Wolffe. Let me know which one you want to see next! The Boba one is particularly long (over 7k words), so if you want that, I need a little more time. 

Be sure to check me out on AO3 too! I usually upload stuff there hours before I do on Tumblr. 

[evabellasworld]

Storm of the Republic

Chapter 14

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

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Summary:  When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

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Holding a torchlight in her hands, Tori had Frieda on her baby carrier as Fox and Riyo held each other’s hands, navigating through the darkness in the streets. The last time she was in Level 1312, there were neon lights and street lights that brightened up the streets. There were also people walking on the streets, filled with all kinds of emotions and turmoils.

Level 1312 was also the place where she would buy her favourite whiskey after a hard day on the battlefield. The convenience store she would hang out in also had her favourite instant noodles, which Lira and Eva loved very much.

Lira loved the cheese flavour, while Eva preferred carbonara. Both of the noodles were spicy, but they didn’t mind it. After all, both the twins had spicy food since they were three years old. Their biological mother introduced them step-by-step, which worked for them.

Now the convenience store she saw was empty, with only womp-rats wandering around the abandoned building. The fridge that stored her favourite drinks was cleared, along with the shelf that had her instant noodles and snacks. The roofs were destroyed, with only broken cement and stones left behind.

The streets were also eerily quiet, reminding her of a scene of an apocalyptic movie. Last she was here, it was filled with rotting corpses and blood on the tar road. She even remembered seeing a severed head and limbs belonging to a civilian. It still sticks to her mind whenever she’s in combat.

Frieda was found in the dumpster at the alleyway, covered in dirt and cuts. Tori wondered how many other Frieda’s were killed during the battle between the Republic and the Separatist, with no one mourning for their loss.

“Mama, why is it so dark here?” the little asked, wrangling her arms around Tori’s shoulders. “Are there monsters coming to get us?”

“The Empire cut off electricity here,” she answered. “Before, there were people living their lives here. Now, everything is broken here, so they have to go somewhere else instead.”

“But are there monsters here?”

Dipper laughed. “No, kiddo. There are no monsters here. Though they do exist, they can’t survive in a street like this.”

“Then where would they go then?”

“Somewhere safe from people like us,” Fox turned to Frieda, squeezing her hand. “So don’t worry about them, alright? You’ll be safe and sound with us. If anything, monsters are more afraid of us than we are.”

“Yes, Uncle Foxy,” Frieda nodded, making his heart flutter.

Shifting his focus on the streets, he continued down the road with Riyo glancing at him with a pleasant look on her face. “Well, this is not as bad as it seems,” she commented on their current situation.

“Really?” Fox let out a smirk. “I thought you would fear the dark.”

She shook her head. “I’ve walked in a street like this back in Pantora. There was not much electricity on the outskirts back in the days, so over time, I had to get used to it, you know. It’s not a simple process, but I managed it in the end.”

“Didn’t you tell me once that if you wandered at night, you might end up meeting an evil spirit?”

“Well, I did, but I never believed in those superstitions anyway,” Riyo brushed them off. “Adults would only say that just to keep us home after sunset.”

“People do that?” Dipper asked, interrupting their moments together, much to Fox’s frustration.

“Well, adults do that sometimes,” she frowned. “They would make up superstitions and scary stories just to keep us kids in line and most of the time, children would fall for that, but I didn’t, and I turned out alright.”

“That’s dumb,” Tori remarked. “Why can’t they just be more truthful instead of lying to their kids?”

“Maybe because they thought kids won’t listen to them.”

“That’s just utter nonsense. Kids would appreciate it if their parents or guardians were more transparent with them instead of beating around the bush.”

“I agree,” Fox spoke. “If I was the kid, I would rather listen to my parents telling me the truth instead of listening to stupid superstitions.”

“Right?” Riyo exclaimed. “When I have a child, I will never tell a superstition just so I can get them to listen to me.”

The Marshal Commander gleamed at her promise. Since they were able to be open with their relationship, Fox looked forward to the future, where they would have a family together like Tori.

He would prefer a little girl like Frieda so that he could answer all the questions his daughter would ask him. Even if he doesn’t know the answer, at least Fox could have a long discussion with his child, just like how he would have one with the mother of his child.

“I know you’ll be a splendid mother,” Fox said to her, as they stepped onto a large platform, which will take them to the surface of Coruscant. Riyo gave a smile of approval as Dipper pushed the button, making them go up.

“You’ll make a good father too, Fox.”

As they were about to kiss each other, Tori let out a fake cough, covering Frieda’s eyes with her hands. “If you’re going to kiss, please do it once we’re at Senator Amidala’s place.”

“Does anyone ever tell you that you’re a party pooper, Tor?” Fox narrowed his eyes. “Because you always ruin the fun for others.”

“Well, I’m not a mirror, Foxy,” she curled her lips in a mischievous grin, making Dipper snort at his commander’s remarks.

“Do you need ice for that burn, Commander Fox?”

“Just shut your traps, will you?” Fox looked the other way as he avoided their gaze, much to Tori’s pleasure.

When they reached the surface, the four of them gasped at the lack of light in the giant metropolis. Seeing the city lights go off made Fox and Riyo shiver, as they were used to the brightness from every corner of the skyscrapers.

Even the bars and nightclubs weren’t blasting music like it used to. Similar to Level 1315, the upper-level was just the same. There was no one wandering in the streets except for battle droids, which were patrolling in the streets.

Noticing their presence, Fox gestured to them to show their chain codes to them, hoping they wouldn’t seem suspicious in an enemy territory. “Good evening,” he straightened his posture, his eyes fixed on them. “What can I do for you?”

“Why are you out here on a curfew?” one of the B1 battle droids questioned them. “All citizens must be indoors from 7:30 p.m. to 6:00 a.m.”

“Well, we just arrived from Corellia and we’re on our way to visit our family.”

“Let me see your chain codes.”

Giving a nod to his team, all of them did what the droid ordered, without saying a single look. Taking one look at their identification, the patrols bobbed their heads among themselves before returning it to them. “You are clear to proceed. Have a nice day, citizen.”

As they were left alone, all four of them breathed in relief. “Thank goodness they didn’t notice a thing,” Tori said. “Otherwise, we would be screwed by now.”

“Those droids are dumber than I thought,” Dipper jokes. “I wonder how long until we’re exposed.”

Before Tori could answer him, Riyo waved at them, pointing at a hover taxi in front of her. “Our ride is here. Hop in.”

[aaltjelng]

so the lovely @languagessi sent me an ask with the numbers for the ask game but i managed to accidentally delete the ask:)) well, i decided to try to answer anyway, hopefully i remembered the numbers right haha... so here are the answers!

12. Vocab or grammar?

It’s a tough question! I guess it kind of depends on the language... I am utterly in love with Korean grammar! It might sound strange but I just find studying it so fascinating and rewarding. It also feels really nice to finally be learning a language that shares some traits with Finnish (no articles, a lot of suffixes...) I find studying Korean grammar a lot nicer than for example French grammar (although I do like that too!), mostly because I struggle a lot with remembering the genders of nouns and that makes me frustrated, and articles and genders feel kind of unnecessary to me as a Finnish speaker whereas the nuances that can be expressed through Korean grammar are really interesting.

I don’t have such strong opinions on vocab. In the beginning I did find it hard to remember Korean vocab and I still struggle with that a bit, but it’s getting better and better all the time. I think I like learning vocab the most when studying Swedish! I don’t know why, but I guess it just feels like it sticks more easily. I do love some Korean, especially native Korean words with all my heart... And learning vocab can feel super rewarding: that feeling when you spot a word you just learned in a random text and realize you can actually understand what it is saying is really the best feeling.

23. How did you get into languages?

Honestly I have loved languages for as long as I can remember. When my brother started learning English at school at the age of 9 (I was 7), I secretly listened to him and our mom studying. I also stole his English books and secretly read them by myself and tried to study.

After that I did have some time that I was just studying at school, I was always good at it but not as enthusiastic as I am now. It clicked in 2017 when I was 13 years old and I just started studying Swedish on my own. We had it in school too, but I was frustrated with how slow we were going. Somehow I just thought about the idea of studying and speaking this language and languages in general and it just made me really excited and happy. It is really difficult to explain but languages really bring out this certain feeling in me and that feeling has stayed with me since that year.

24. Why are you studying your target language?

So I actually have four target languages right now: French, Swedish, Italian and Korean. English is also a foreign language for me but I am not really interested in improving my English level as of now. 

Out of these four languages, I am now actively trying to improve my Korean, while the other three are more or less on “maintenance mode”. I study those three at school as well so I am still using and studying them, just not with the same intensity as Korean.

Anyway, here’s a little bit about each of these languages and why I am studying them!

French: I started it at school at the age of 9. It was quite a clear decision for me back then, I was really interested in the language, I had been to France many times and the Dutch side of my family actually originates from France (like hundreds of years ago my ancestors fled persecution from France to the Netherlands). I really loved studying French and my interest has only grown over the years. I love speaking French, I love reading French, I love listening to French and writing in French, and I really want to get my French to an advanced level. I will probably work on my French more actively next year and really try to bring it to C1 level before my matriculation exam. Now my French is somewhere between B1 and B2.

Swedish: I started it at school when I was 12 years old. In Finland Swedish is an obligatory subject so I didn’t actually choose starting it haha but I have always loved Swedish so I was motivated from the start. My aunt lives in Stockholm and I have been there for about 20 times. My mom also loves Swedish and I think she has also been a factor in my love for Swedish. As I said earlier, Swedish is actually the language that inspired me to start actively self studying languages. I just felt so frustrated with the pace we were moving at at school and I just thought to myself: “I learned English more or less fluently mostly with my own effort. Why couldn’t I do that with Swedish too?”. English I had learned because of other factors, not really my enthusiasm about the language or language learning but more because I needed to understand English in order to understand fandom things and books and bands I loved. So I thoguht that, well, books were really the thing that brought my English to a new level, so I should probably do that with Swedish. And so I did that and studied hard and got my Swedish to an intermediate level. I studied actively for about 5 months, after that I’ve just been mostly relying on school. This spring & summer I am planning on taking the next step and bringing my Swedish to an advanced level before my matriculation exam.

Italian: I started studying Italian at school last year with my best friend. She is part Italian and I thought that because I love learning languages and I love her and there is a possibility take Italian, why not take Italian? I also love Italian history and art and Italian is a very significant language in classical music (I am studying to become a classical violinist/violist). So I have been taking Italian for a bit more than a year now and I am around an A2 level. Next year, before the matriculation exam, I’d love to get my Italian to a B2 level or at least a B1 level.

Korean: In the summer 2019 I stumbled across some videos and heard my first songs by BTS. One of them: Paldogangsan or so-called “Satoori rap”. I heard it and just instantly fell in love. It’s a song about Korean dialects, and the way the rap showcased the different sounds of the Korean language... It really inspired me. Well, other things happened in my life, I got depressed, my other psychiatric and neurological issues got worse and so on. Through that time I discovered some truly amazing and touching songs that had lyrics that really moved me to my core, some by BTS but most by Agust D, and I knew I had to learn that language, at least a little bit. At first I just learned hangul to make sure that the lyrics I was scribbling to my diary weren’t complete nonsense. During the following six months I didn’t actively study Korean, I just played with Duolingo here and there, listened to a few beginner TTMIK lessons, acquired some vocabulary I was hearing in songs... 

But in May 2020 something just struck me and I just got this sudden burst of inspiration. I realized that if I really wanted to learn this language, what better time to start than now? I guess I had been feeling kind of intimidated, because I knew that learning a language, any language and especially one like Korean would take a long time. But I still remember this one post that I saw on tumblr. It said something about how usually when we think about how long learning a language will take, we feel weirded out about thinking ourselves being that much older. But the thing is, we will get older anyway. Might as well be older and know this language that you deeply love. That idea has stayed with me since. Let’s take one estimate: getting fluent in Korean will take about 4 years. In 4 years I’ll be 21. So? In 4 years I’ll be 21 anyway, why not be a 21 year old who knows Korean. And I also realized that I am still so young. I have so much time to learn so many languages. Might as well use it.

So I have been actively studying by myself for about 6 months and would place myself somewhere around the A2 level. This October I made this challenge for myself: for 100 days, study as hard as you can. Learn as much as you can and do not give up. I really want to see how far I can come if I give this my all! I’m wishing on getting to a B1 level at the end of this challenge but we’ll see. WIth Korean, and I guess with any language, it’s quite easy to get discouraged by thinking how much you still don’t know, so it’s important to also realize how much you already know. I have come so far already during these past 6 months, and I am really proud of myself. That motivates me to keep going: I learned all that, so I can learn these other things too!

Okay hahaha sorry for my very very long post and making you listen to my ramblings in my incoherent English.  I just love languages so much and I could talk about them for forever!

Thank you if you read this far, I hope you have a wonderful day. <3

Aleijd

[bonzhur]

"I have 4 brothers (one of them is younger and the two oldest are quite a lot older) so I was thinking maybe a Damian Wayne x reader (16+) where Damian and reader are secretly dating and Damian bumps in to the reader whilst they are both out with their siblings. Maybe a few of them know each other from school and they wanna hang out and Damian and the reader try and pretend they don’t know each other so their siblings don’t make a big deal about their relationship but maybe somehow they let it slip."

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Oh my gosh...

First off, I'm so sorry for not checking my asks, college and now this world wide issue. I'm so sorry!! *Bows* Please forgive me!!!

Second, I hope you can still enjoy this late reply, I'm really sorry ;-;

Guys, the keys for this story are these;

B1- Brother 1

B2- Brother 2

B3- Brother 3

Again, I am so sorry! P.S. details are lacking so I choose them for you... You'll see what mean later. Please enjoy this late reply, again, I'm so sorry!

~•~•~•~•~

I sighed as I sat on the mahogany bench, my sweat rolling down my skin as I tried to catch my breath.

"B1!"

The screech of my younger brother can probably be heard throughout the entire park, heck, maybe even Gotham. But I get how he's feeling, I'm ticked as well after all.

"What on earth gave you the great idea to drag me out of my bed to go jogging with you!" I turned my head to see B3 jabbing his finger at B1, who's just trying not to laugh. Yea, let's see that smug grin later when I beat ya for interrupting my sleep.

"What's wrong, lil bro?" B1 chuckled as he skipped a few feet away from him, holding his hands up in defense. "Not my fault you lack vitamin D and been hold up in your room with your video games, you and y/n both."

"Excuse you!" I immediately sat up and glare at my brother. "But my babies needed me, okay!"

A hand came suddenly and messed up my already bad bed hair. Not my fault B1 dragged me out of bed with no preparations, again whatever. I swatted the hand away, glaring at B2.

"Hey, I understand your struggle." He said with a look of understanding. "I bought you that switch with animal crossing remember."

I huffed and crossed my arms. Not my fault I got addicted to the game, not my fault it's one of the only games I can play with him.

A smile started forming on my face as I thought of him. Damian Wayne, son of billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne, a student in Gotham High, and my absolutely hot boyfriend. Can't deny how toned and defined his body is~ And that ass is mine, so back off bishes! If only I can say that...

You see Damian may be my boyfriend, but we're in a secret relationship. Yea, sucks to be me alright. I do understand where he's coming from though. It's not about his image (he'd throw that away cuz he don't care) and definitely not his family, though he's adamant that I can't meet them yet (something about them never ending teasing and him not trusting they can keep a secret, also the fact that he wants to know how long it takes for them to figure it out). It's about me.

In Gotham High, I'm just a lucky smart kid, who got a scholarship. No one really pays attention to me, especially since there's more interesting people. So finding out a normal person like me is his girlfriend, let's just say it wouldn't end well. His fans would bully me relentlessly, people would assume I'm a gold digger or just a hoe. The rumours, the lies, the fights, the many ways this can go from great to worst. It's not the best situation to be, especially when Damian isn't always there to be by my side. Anything can happen and that anything scares both of us.

I groan as I quickly fixed up my hair into a high pony. It's bad enough that Damian doesn't go easy on me during training and now my big bro wants me to exercise in my rest day, not cool.

"let's just get this over with." I stood up, glaring at B1 as he innocently whistles. "I have a date with my bed and switch after this."

"So you're cheating on Pizza? With bed and switch? That's harsh." B2 cried as he clenched his hand over his chest, like the drama queen that he is.

"Maybe I should take Pizza out on a date later? Seeing as you're busy." B1 joked, fixing his black tank top like it was a suit.

"ha ha, very funny you two." Rolling my e/c eyes, I crossed my arms and walked towards them. "Now can we please just go?"

"fine, as soon as B3 stops complaining." B1 chuckled, causing me to sigh.

"I swear you three are making me loo-" All of a sudden, I felt someone bump into me and like dramatic girl, I nearly fell. But thankfully the culprit grabbed my wrist, saving me from the fall. I turn to the next victim on my list and was met with the mesmerizing green eyes of my surprised boyfriend. Shock dawned on my expression as I could only whisper. "Dami?"

"Habibti." Damian whispered back, I assume getting lost in my e/c eyes as well. Or maybe it was my sports outfit, who knows.

He pulled me up to stand and I was about to say something when I heard my brother called for me in the background. This snapped me back to reality and away from the Dreamland of Damian's eyes, pulling my hand back and stepping away from him. He did the same, now definitely looking at my outfit.

Now remember how B1 dragged me to the park for a jog. Well, it's extremely hot today and I'm not about to get out in the burning sun without a proper outfit. I.E. shorts, a tank top, running shoes, and my Batfam cap (a humor gift from B3. jokes on him, I love this hat). Now seeing how Damian is looking at my outfit, I can already tell what he's thinking, he's look at me with lust and want after all. Sweet Lord, if you're there. Please say me from this predicament I'm in. I want to walk please!

"Yo Dick, how ya been?" The voice of B1, surprised me as I turn to them. Eyes widening when I realized that Damian was with his brothers and sister. I think it dawned on Damian too, because now he moved more away from me. Sad but hey, secret relationship after all.

"Nothing much B1." Dick Grayson turned to me, eyes holding a flirtious glint when he saw me. "This your younger sister? Y/n?" He asked naturally, not like he ate me up with his eyes.

"Yea, she is." B1 said, like the confused idiot that he is. "Y/n, this is one of my old friends, Dick."

"Hi..." That's my poor attempt at interacting with people, brought to you by Social Anxiety and Depression!

"Name's Dick Grayson, this is my sister, Cass. My brothers, Jason, Tim, and Damian, who I think you met."

"Don't fool around, Grayson." Damian interrupted him. "I don't even know her."

"But you guys had a connection! Don't deny it!" Dick defended, while Cass giggled and Jason smirked at this, knowing a fight is near. Tim just went and laid on the bench, within seconds, he's asleep. Dude, the fu-

"Okay! Break it off." B2 said, pushing Dick away from Damian. "Me and my siblings have to go and finish our jog."

"oh, us too." Jason piped up. "Mind if we joined?"

"Sure, why not." B1 said instantly.

"wait, what?" Says my confused brain.

So during the jog, they explained how they knew each other, Jason to B2 and Dick to B1. Being from the same school and all that stuff, having a little fun reunion. Cass and B3 are watching Tim, who is barely awake but jogging too. I'm both amazing and confused at the same time. As for me and Damian, well..

We decided to jog the slowest, being at the back where none of them can see us or barely hear us. You can imagine how Damian teased me about my outfit and how after he's done with me, I can't stand for a week. Add some 'accidental' touching here and there, maybe a peck or two in secret. I'm actually surprised no one saw or questioned us.

Yea, that's how I felt until the end. Where Tim and B3 basically almost threw up because me and Damian are being too lovey dovey in the back.

"WHAT!"

Oh the chaos, how both B1 and Dick were celebrating about their siblings having a significant other, how B2 and Jason had a talk with each other about what to do if one of us broke the other's heart, and Cass being a sweet girl and congratulating us. She's the best.

At first, we tried to deny it, it's not like that, etc, etc. Then Tim pointed out that Damian called me Habibti, which we both, again, tried to deny it. Until Dick kabedons me and Damian attacked him. So now, they know that we're dating... Great.

Atleast now I can go to his house and be with him without fearing if his siblings see. Let me tell you, it was hella alot more fun than before.

~•~•~•~

First off, again I'm so sorry. Second, I literally typed this for an hour and a half. I need sleep.. Not my best work, please forgive me at that. It's been years or months since I last made a one shot and it's obvious in the fic, Atleast to me.

Thanks for reading this late reply post!

[priestenemy17]

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Content

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[theonceoverthinker]

When Will My Life Begin? (Fair Game, 11/?)

Tumblr: (1) (2) (B1) (3) (4) (B2) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (B3) (10)

Summary: Tangled AU. Clover Callows has been confined to a tower for all of his life, and given the threat that his Uncle Tyrian says his semblance poses to his safety, he accepts that fate. It’s the only life he’s ever known, after all. But when he’s offered the opportunity to fulfill his greatest dream after a chance encounter with a thief -- or bandit, as Qrow Branwen insists there’s a difference between the two -- both Clover and Qrow will discover joys that they never knew life could offer them before.

AO3

A/N: Hi, everyone! I’m sorry if this chapter feels a smidge out of place! I was seeing some family this weekend and the next chapter I had planned was just a bit too complicated for me to give it the focus I wanted to. So instead, I prepared a little mid-space chapter so that I could still give you an update! I hope you like it!

()()()()()()()()()()()()()() Clover Callows felt that like his uncle, he was an intelligent man. He tended to soak up facts Uncle Tyrian told him like a sponge, had a great understanding of scientific fields like astronomy, physics, and biology, took interests in a variety of hobbies ranging from cooking to reading to exercising, and studied all that Uncle Tyrian brought into the tower with a certain methodical thoroughness, whether it be books, elements of nature, or even pieces of food.

However, according to Uncle Tyrian, there was a point where intelligence transcended from just being a collection of facts into being smart and able to do something with those facts. As he described it, what he truly felt allowed someone to graduate from just being intelligent to being truly smart was the ability to take the facts he had and make informed and accurate deductions based off of them.

It was a sentiment Clover found himself strongly agreeing with, and within the confines of his tower, Clover was confident that he encompassed what it meant to be a smart man rather than just an intelligent one. The tower was a finite space with only so many components to make deductions and inferences based off of. It was only natural that he would master anything brought into it if not immediately, then soon after.

That said, Clover was no longer in his tower. He was in a world that felt infinite, a world with people, people he didn’t necessarily understand on anything more than a linguistic level. As he had to constantly remind himself, he was playing by new rules, rules he might end up failing at grasping.

As much as he wished it wasn’t the truth, Clover had reason to doubt whether or not he would truly prove to be smart outside of the tower. Uncle Tyrian had never used the word ‘smart’ to describe Clover before, even while he dutifully stayed in his home. Clover never let himself think too much on that fact, mostly attributing that to a belief that there was just never a time for it to naturally come up. However, there was a second possible reason, once Clover never wanted to acknowledge despite the fact that it may very well have been frustratingly true -- even if Uncle Tyrian thought Clover was smart within the tower, he might not have felt like he was or would ever be smart outside of it, and didn’t want to encourage the growth of undeserved cockiness over a matter that could very well be the difference between life and death by saying otherwise.

It made sense. After all, Uncle Tyrian always told him that for as intelligent as he was, the outside world would eat his naivety and inexperience alive without so much as a second thought, and it wasn’t like he was great at the outside humor his uncle used. If that was anything to go by, then Uncle Tyrian was probably right to not call him as such. 

Nevertheless, the outside world was what he was to traverse through in order to see the floating lanterns, and so for once, he would put all he had in his brain to the ultimate test. 

Clover guessed the moment of truth for that matter was now at hand.

Since leaving the tower, Clover hadn’t had much of a chance to make deductions, at least not the kind that would do him all that much good in the world beyond his tower. He noticed things about the forest and caves, but once they got to the capital or even lunch, it was anyone’s guess -- least of all, Clover’s --  as to what he’d be able to infer about his surroundings.

However, there was one deduction-based decision that he made inside the tower that the fallout of which was still playing out even well outside its boundaries -- the decision to trust one Qrow Branwen.

Trusting Qrow Branwen proved to be a mixed bag, and something told Clover that an answer to whether or not choosing to trust him was a good idea wouldn’t reveal itself for some time yet. He was no doubt both intelligent and smart regarding the ways of the outside world as well as modestly crafty -- if only because of that amazing weapon of his -- but he had also proved himself wily, slippery, and odd in his mannerisms  -- not to mention far more smug than he had any right being. 

Even beyond that though, since he met Qrow, there was one thing about him that had nagged at Clover in much the same way Raven nagged at him every morning for her breakfast.

Qrow had told Clover he’d been chased, and escaping his pursuer or pursuers was his sole motivation for climbing Clover’s tower. Clover had no trouble believing that was true, especially when supplemented by Qrow’s lack of awareness over his semblance.

However, that begged the question as to who or what he was escaping from in the first place.

Right after Clover stuffed Qrow’s unconscious form into his closet back in the tower, there was something that stuck out about him. Everything that Qrow seemed to have on his person made sense to be there -- his clothes, his weapon, his sheath, his cheekbones.

At least that seemed to be the case...until Clover found Qrow’s satchel.

The pin was weird enough, beautiful and refined, but crooked and shoddily made in the same breath, but Clover also realized as he was stashing it away that that pin wasn’t just the primary object in Qrow’s satchel -- it was the only thing in there.

Clover may not have left the tower in his life before just under two hours ago, but even he knew that when one traveled, they packed more in their bags than just a single pin, no matter how beautiful it was.

So what was Qrow’s relation to the pin in his satchel?

Frankly, he had a guess.

After all, Qrow was slippery, so if the circumstances behind what put that satchel in Qrow Branwen’s possession were what Clover thought they were, it wouldn’t exactly surprise him.

Still, as confident that Clover was about the truth of his guess, he had no concrete evidence, and while Clover had been proven right about a lot today, the only thing that had thrown him for a loop was just how non-threatening Qrow turned out to be. Sure, he was borderline shifty at times, but actively dangerous or malicious to Clover or his safety? No, Clover couldn’t say he was, so without any proof of his theory about Qrow’s immediate past before they met, he had to admit that he was in no place to impose such a judgment over his character. 

That proved to be the case until about fifteen minutes into their trek to go get lunch, when a chance gust of wind flew by the forest he and Qrow traversed through. While Clover still felt his heart soar with every blow that came his way, he had grown wonderfully accustomed to the feeling of the wind circling his body like an invisible arm cuddling his waist.

What he wasn’t used to was the flapping noise that it carried with it this time.

Clover knew what the flaps of birds’ wings sounded like. Even though Raven was flightless, he never let himself forget the day they met and the copious amount of flapping sounds he heard during her battle with the hawk. 

Whatever this noise was from, it wasn’t a bird.

No, Clover knew exactly what the sound was once he eliminated that possibility.

He looked out into the stretch of forest before him, studying the area until he found exactly what it was he was searching for. 

Perpendicular to the path he and Qrow were following, Clover spotted it still flapping a bit in the aftershock of the wind’s gust -- a piece of paper. 

Clover had heard the sound of flapping paper many times before, a sign that a storm might be on its way or just a quick means of ending his reading time prematurely. He knew the sound of it like the back of his hand.

The paper he saw stuck out from the edge of the tree’s curve, seeming to be attached to it.

Now that was an interesting sight. What was on it?

Clover and Raven exchanged intrigued expressions.

Even though it was off the path Qrow had directed them towards to go get lunch, Clover couldn’t help himself. When one only had a couple of days to make a lifetime’s worth of memories, diversions were only natural. Raven certainly seemed to have no objections to defying their guide and while Clover found their rivalry to be just a step or two above childish, he couldn’t argue with the excuse provided to go explore something.

Curious, Clover approached the paper.

“What’s this?” he asked, not so much to ask a question, but to make sure Qrow knew that they were taking a little detour. Judging by the loud sigh he heard immediately after he finished speaking, it seemed to do the trick perfectly.

Clover moved to the other side of the tree, placing his left index finger on the page to hold it steady as he looked at it.

And look at it he did. 

Clover had a feeling that he might have even been proved to be right about Qrow’s relationship to the pin in his satchel by the end of their trip, but he didn’t expect to be proven right in such a head-on way as looking directly at a wanted poster with Qrow’s face on it.

His deduction was right.

Turned out that he was smart after all.

From behind him, Clover could tell that Qrow had seen the poster’s contents as well, not only by the rustling of the bushes beside him, but by the mix of a tired sigh and a grunt that left his mouth. 

For a moment, Clover honestly didn’t know what to make of this development. Sure, Qrow had shown himself as nothing but non-threatening so far -- barring his reasoning for his weapon choice -- but that was when he had something akin to anonymity on his side. Now, stripped of that, Clover would’ve been lying if he said that more than a few questions didn’t pop up in his mind during those first few seconds after sensing his presence.

Was knowing this detail about Qrow so plainly to his face going to affect the person Clover thought him to be? Was there a threatening side to Qrow that this bit of information was possibly going to bring out of him? Had Qrow been lying about not knowing Clover’s semblance, planning on taking him somewhere he could better defeat him?

No, none of that felt right, but all the same, Qrow clearly wasn’t happy about this poster’s existence, nor likely the fact that Clover had now seen it.

Qrow mumbled something, something that despite their relative proximity to each other, Clover couldn’t quite make out.

“What did you say?” Clover asked as he turned to look at his traveling companion, trying heroically to keep the faltering of his nerves at bay.

Once more, Qrow mumbled something, but like before, Clover still couldn’t hear it, apart from one word: ‘thief.’

Was he trying to own up to being a thief, or deny it?

Clover had no idea.

“Come again?”

This time, Qrow groaned, loudly and openly.

“I’m not a thief!” he all but shouted. “I’m a bandit! There’s a difference!” Qrow didn’t even look like he was yelling at Clover, but rather the poster on the tree.

Clover’s eyebrow raised as a wave of incredulousness came over him.

He couldn’t be serious, could he?

“That’s what you’re upset about?” 

Clover couldn’t keep his disbelieving tone out of his voice, so he didn’t even try not to.

“It’s my brand!” Qrow shot back without missing a beat.

Nothing but sputters left Clover’s mouth as he tried to figure out how to even begin to unpack Qrow’s words. “You’re on a wanted poster!” 

That felt the most appropriate.

Qrow waved a dismissive hand. 

“I’ve been on those for years,” he said. He then turned back to the poster with a vicious glare. “But despite that, those idiots in the royal guard always get my title wrong!” Clover suddenly felt very tired, in much the same way Qrow was when this conversation started, but for vastly different reasons. 

For Gods’ sake...

“Bandit,” Qrow sneered, continuing his rant against the papery culprit. “Not a thief! Ban-dit. Ban-dit. There’s a difference.” Qrow slapped the poster, and Clover fought the urge to laugh.

It was a fight he largely lost.

“Not really,” he said, chuckling all the while.

Qrow’s sneer stayed present on his face, but directed itself at its new target -- Clover.

“Yes, really,” he argued back.

“Look, Qrow,” Clover said, his confidence overwhelmingly self assured in that moment. “I grew up reading a dictionary for fun. There’s virtually no difference between the two words.”

Qrow seemed like he was about to argue back, but Clover’s words looked to give him a moment’s pause.

“A dictionary?” he asked, clearly confused. Clover honestly couldn’t blame him. Even with his inexperience with other people, he knew that dictionaries were odd things to study so carefully as to point out the distinction -- or in this case, lackthereof -- between two words.

“It’s hard to get books,” Clover argued, shrugging. “A dictionary was the best my uncle could do.”

“Hard to get books?” Qrow asked, incredulousness now lacing his voice like dirt laced the bottom of a boot. “You can just go to the book store and get some. It’s not exactly physics. I swear to the Gods, you just keep getting stranger by the second.”

For a second, Clover was struck in a not-at-all small amount of shock. 

Were they really as easy to get as Qrow said they were? It didn’t seem like he had a reason to lie. The secret, a secret that Clover could tell Qrow was barely trying to keep the longer they traveled together, was now exposed in the most blatant manner possible.

But if Qrow wasn’t lying, then what did that mean? Why did Uncle Tyrian say he had such trouble getting books if they were apparently as easy to obtain as just about anything else?

Perhaps Uncle Tyrian just didn’t want to risk being recognized by people as the man who knew the location of the lucky baby?

Yes, that made sense.

Well, not fully, but it made enough sense for now.

As Clover recovered from his miniature revelation, he scoffed. “At least I’m not throwing a tantrum because only a synonym of my favorite word was used on a wanted poster and not -- oh, I don’t know -- the fact that you’re on a wanted poster!”

Qrow returned the scoff. “As if they could even get me.”

“I got you,” Clover pointed out, smirking. 

“I said it before -- I was distracted and you got lucky. It wouldn’t happen again.” 

Clover groaned under his breath, careful to keep his smirk up. There Qrow went, walking right into the word ‘lucky’ as if it was a lake filled with those poorly put together emerald pins. More so the fact that each use was a coincidence than anything is what drove Clover crazy.

Who managed to do that accidentally so many times?

Qrow pointed to the poster. “The guards in the kingdom have been trying to arrest me for years now, but to no success,” he continued, oblivious to Clover’s silent plight. “And it’s not like they could with how wrong they got my hair. Newsflash -- it’s not that messy!” Once more, he shouted that sentiment not at Clover, but at the poster.

Clover’s smirk immediately dissolved into a laughter-filled smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! They got your hair perfectly!” he barked. Remembering himself, Clover settled down somewhat. “But I knew it! That pin in your satchel -- You stole it!”

“It’s n-!” Qrow looked like he wanted to finish that thought, but seemingly decided it wasn’t worth his or Clover’s time judging by the dismissive wave of his hand. “Well, what of it, smarty pants?” he defensively asked instead.

“Stealing is wrong!”

“Maybe it is --”

“It absolutely is.” Clover interjected, giving Qrow a deadpan look that practically screamed ‘even I know that.’ 

Qrow just shrugged before continuing.

“Look muscles, if it’ll help you sleep any better, I didn’t exactly put a poor family out on the streets by stealing it. I nabbed it off of some rich general. He’s got plenty to live off of, even without it. If anything, I’m actually making use out of the thing instead of continuing to let it collect dust in some attic like it was -- good for the economy, you know?” Clover’s expression stayed the same -- positively deadpanned. Qrow rolled his eyes. “Well, think what you want, smarty pants. Once I get that satchel back, I’m gonna be one rich man. Now, come on.”

Despite Qrow’s dismissive attitude towards the nickname he bestowed onto Clover, Clover himself couldn’t help but smile as he followed Qrow’s lead.

‘Smarty pants.’

Was it the most mature of nicknames? No.

Hell, in just about every way, he even preferred ‘muscles’ to it, though he’d never admit it to Qrow’s face. At least that one was specific to himself and not as much of a mouthful as ‘smarty pants.’

However, what it lacked in elegance or cleverness, it more than made up for in meaning. ‘Smarty pants’ in that moment had an extra level of meaning to Clover, something Qrow likely ran into by accident, but was all the same appreciated. To Clover, it meant that he might actually be smart enough to get by in the outside world after all, and maybe even for more than just this trip to see the lanterns.

Clover’s stomach growled. The detour was nice, but it was now time to get a move on and get some lunch.

Full of confidence from Qrow’s unintentional validation, Clover suddenly found the prospect of talking to other people a little bit less scary, provided they weren’t any more intimidating than Qrow had shown himself to be thus far.

“So, what’s the name of the place we’re going to for lunch?” Clover asked, happy to see Qrow perk up at his question.

“Oh, you’ll love it. It’s a quaint little place called Lil’ Miss Malachite’s.”

[umpireofpopculture]

Answers to Quarantine 2020 You Make the Call

Here’s the MLB Rule Book so you can go check out these rulings in more detail

1. 1. 1 out, R2. B1 hits a foul pop fly trailing toward the stands behind 3B. F5 chases toward the stands but badly mistimes his leap and lands in the front row before catching the ball. Assuming the ball was going to fall for a routine foul ball, R2 is lollygagging and does not return to 2B promptly. F5 sees and throws to F4 covering the bag and the throw beats R2. D. Foul ball. If F5 had caught the ball while leaping into the stands it would be a catch. Because he already had his feet on the ground in dead ball territory, this can only be a foul ball just as if a fan in the front row caught it. [Rule 5.09(a)(1)comment]

2. 0 out, bases loaded. It’s the bottom of the 8th in a 1-run game, so with the bases loaded the infield plays in to increase their chances of getting the force out at home. All 4 infielders are positioned on the grass/dirt line of the infield. B1 hits a sharp ground ball that passes between F3 and F4 before striking R1 in the foot as he runs to 2B. The ball rolls away towards RF. By the time F9 runs in to pick up the ball, R3 and R2 have scored, R1 stands at 3B, BR stands at 2B. A. Nothing. 2 runs score, R1 and BR remain where they ended the play on 2B and 3B. Because the batted ball has passed a fielder, and there is no other infielder who could make a play on the ball (because F4 is not playing behind F3 and is positioned beside him along the grass/dirt line), this is not interference. The ball remains live and whatever happens happens. [Rule 6.01(a)(11)]

3. 1 out, R1 R2. F1 never comes to a complete stop before delivering the pitch. B1 hits a ground ball almost through the hole on the right side but F4 makes a diving stop. Having no play anywhere but 1B, he throws to F3 and the throw beats the BR. B. Enforce the balk because all runners including the batter-runner did not advance at least one base safely. B1 returns to bat with the same count as before the balk. R1 and R2 are awarded 2B and 3B respectively. Go to umpire school once and you will hear instructors shout “did all runners including the batter-runner advance at least one base safely?” in your dreams for the rest of your life. It applies to both balks and catcher’s interference. If the answer is yes, the balk or catcher’s interference is treated as if it did not happen. If the answer is no, get ready to explain to one if not both managers why you are pressing the rewind button. [Rule 6.02(a)penalty]

4. 0 out, R1, 2-2 count. B1, his team’s pitcher, is determined to get his bunt down, advance the runner, and prove to baseball pundits everywhere that the bunt is not dead and the National League way of pitchers batting is actually the right way to play baseball. He bunts at the two-strike pitch. The pitch strikes B1’s hand as it grips the handle of the bat, but comes forward and settles in fair territory. F2 pounces on the baseball and fires to 1B as the BR clutches his hand in pain. R1 advances safely to 2B. C. The ball is dead immediately upon touching B1’s hands. Because he attempted to bunt, the pitch is called a strike. Because it is the third strike, he is out. R1 returns to 1B. Say it with me everybody: “THE HANDS ARE NOT PART OF THE BAT!” Next time you hear a dad at a little league field say that they are, either point and laugh at him or ask if his wife is ok after expelling 3 feet of aluminum from her uterus and if the doctors performed surgery on his newborn immediately to remove the bat that his baby’s hands were grafted to.

The ball becomes dead immediately upon touching a batter, no matter what the subsequent ruling of HBP or not is going to be. Because he attempted to strike at the pitch, it is a strike (just ask Giancarlo Stanton*). If it wasn’t strike three, the at bat would have simply continued with a strike added to the count. Because it was, the batter is out. [Rule 5.05(b)(2)]

*Stanton should have absolutely been awarded first. He was dodging a pitch at his face, not swinging at it. 10 minutes later when the very next pitch hit pinch hitter Reed Johnson on the hand as he swung, the right call was made.

5. 0 out, R2 R3. Ground ball to F5. R3 breaks for home on contact and gets caught in a rundown. He makes it back to 3B legally, but by the time he does, R2 is standing there with his foot on the base. Both runners are tagged by whichever fielder ended up with the baseball after the rundown. Somebody is out here, but who? R2 is out. The base belongs to the lead runner. [Rule 5.06(a)(2)] If there had been an R1 on this play, the base would belong to R2 because R3 was forced off of it when the batter became a runner [Rule 5.06(b)(2)]

6. 0 out, R1 R2. B1 bunts at the ball poorly, and the ball pops high over the pitcher’s mound. F1 sees the runners reluctant to run on this sure-to-be-caught ball and lets it drop before picking it up and throwing to 3B. F5 throws to F4 covering 2B, who then throws to F3. Throws beat R1 and R2, but the BR beat out the triple play at 1B. A. Play stands. R1 and R2 are out and BR at 1B. For a batted ball to be an infield fly you need 4 things: (1) R1 R2 or bases loaded (2) Less than 2 outs (3) Fair fly ball that is not a line drive or a bunt (4) Can be caught by an infielder with ordinary effort. Because this ball was bunted it cannot be an infield fly. Force outs at 3B and 2B. [Definition of Terms: Infield Fly]

7. 2 out, bases loaded. B1 hits a shot down the line, clearing the bases. The throw to the cutoff man gets away and the BR comes all the way around to score. F3 calls for the ball, steps on 1B while holding it, and says to the umpire, “the batter missed first base!” The umpire agrees and calls the BR out. How many runs will score on this play? Zero. When the third out is any force out or on the batter before he touches first base, no runs score on the play. Because the BR never touched first, when he is called out there on appeal the play is treated like any other routine third out of the BR like you see in most innings. If this had been the second out, the three runs would still have scored. [Rule 5.08(b)comment]

8. 0 out, bases empty. B1 hits a ground ball to F6. F6 throws to F3, who bobbles the catch. He gets the ball securely pinned between his forearm and chest as the BR touches first. Is the BR safe or out? Safe. In order to tag a base, the fielder must securely hold the ball in his hand or glove. Pressing the ball against his body with the forearm is not sufficient. [Definition of Terms: Tag]

9. 0 out. After Aaron singles, Charlie bats. On the first pitch, Aaron steals 2B and Charlie takes the pitch for a strike. Charlie then hits a double, scoring Aaron. Before a pitch is thrown to the next batter Daniel, the defensive manager appeals to the umpire that Charlie batted out of order. A. Barry is called out. B. Charlie is put in the batter’s box. C. Aaron is put back on 2B. The key to batting out of order is that the guy who failed to bat in his proper place is the one called out. Then, the proper batter is whoever’s name follows the one called out. Everything that happens due to the improper batter’s at bat is nullified, but Aaron is allowed to keep 2B because the batter had nothing to do with his steal. Any advance by a runner due to a stolen base, balk, wild pitch or passed ball during an improper batter’s at bat stands. [Rule 6.03(b)]

10. Same as #9, but a pitch is thrown to Daniel before the manager appeals. A. Nobody is out. B. Daniel is the proper batter. C. Aaron’s run counts. Once a pitch is thrown to the next batter, the at bat of the improper batter is legitimized. Charlie’s at bat stands; he remains on 2B, Aaron has scored, and as Daniel’s name follows Charlie’s, he is now the proper batter. Barry simply misses his turn this time through the order, and better make sure to bat after Aaron next time. [Rule 6.03(b)(5) and (7)]

Hope y’all learned something. If you have any questions feel free to msg me.

People who reblogged with answers: @swiftjolras @willwriteforruns @wanderingnork Reblog no answers: @thinkazul @outfieldlove @murdereyesnicky @gleyber-torres @pitchburgh Likes: @lowercasemad @melodywanderer @drakecaggiula91 @trevorendingstory @say-hey-kid @shyloudpanda @rapgametycobb @baseball-babe @jadeevans1 @niall2017 @skywulker @withcharmtospare @6erikjohnson6 @dependablecar @tonyhawkpr0skater2 @stephenkingghidorah @pyxyltheamoeba

[luthienebonyx]

Tagged by @samirant​

Rules: Answer 21 19 (I don’t know where the other two went to) questions and tag 21 people you would like to get to know better!

Nickname? L, because my pseud is Luthien and my real name begins with L too, so it’s quicker to just say L - plus I don’t have to stop and think about which me I meant to be at any given moment.

Real name? Begins with L, is more than three letters long, and has twice as many vowels as consonants. ;)

Zodiac? Pisces, but with Aquarius as ascendant AND moon sign, which is... fairly contradictory. (I had a friend a long time ago who was heavily into this stuff and unfortunately a lot of it is still stuck in the back of my mind.)

Favorite musicians or groups? So many, including a bunch of 1980s Aussie pub bands you’ve never heard of.

Favorite sports teams? I don’t follow any team sports. I know the names of the local teams. That’s about it.

Other blogs? The only other one under my fannish name that’s still sort of active is my dreamwidth.

Do I get asks? Every now and then, mostly if I reblog an ask meme.

How many blogs do I follow? 201. Damn, that’s crept up again. 

Tumblr crushes? *flutters lashes*

Lucky numbers? 9 and 12.

What am I wearing? Grey leggings and a t-shirt with thin blue and white stripes.

Dream vacation? Right now, just about anywhere sounds good. When travel is possible again, I’d like to visit the UK again. There are still so many places there I want to see, and some that I want to revisit.

Dream car? I’m pretty happy with my new baby:

She’s a Holden Trax, called BOOM! for the moment, until or unless I think of a better name, because her colour is Nitrate Silver. (I have handled silver nitrate film in my work in the past, and I know just how combustible it is...)

Favourite food? Anything with Indian spices.

Drink of choice? Taiwan high mountain oolong during daylight hours, or Scotch of some sort in the evening, particularly when writing sex scenes.

Instruments? I played the piano for quite a few years and I still have a piano. I play it very infrequently now. I learnt classical guitar a looooong time ago, but I doubt I could remember much more than the notes the strings are tuned to now - and I’d have to really stop and think about that.

Languages? I did German in high school, and then picked it up again in the last few years. I got good marks in the A2 German exam, studied B1 the next year and... Well, I really need to do B1 again before I sit for that exam. Maybe in another year or two...

Celebrity crushes? Just look at the fic I’ve written over the years and you’ll get a pretty good idea.

Random facts? Last year I discovered that an 18th century ancestor of mine ran an inn just outside Bath that was the centre of a tea-smuggling ring. There’s a local history publication with a whole section about her titled: Ann Grace -  Farmer, Innkeeper, and Smuggler. So yeah, I am descended from a notorious tea-smuggler.

I’m supposed to tag 21 other people, but I’m pretty sure everyone’s already done this. If you haven’t done it and would like to, go for it!