#more reliable than the french one!!

[ayo-edebiri]

#It was, in fact, a reliable postal service

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Up until the almost-end-of-the-world, the way Aziraphale and Crowley maintained their relationship was through a collection of well-established and repeated patterns (dances, you might say). These little rituals were what they used to communicate affection, intimacy and trust when they couldn’t say the things they wanted to say out loud. I like spending time with you. You make me happy, and I like making you happy. We’re in this together. I’ll always be there for you, even when your own side is not.

In season 1, as the stress of the impending apocalypse puts more and more pressure on their relationship, we see their patterns start to break down, and it’s very distressing for them. They’ve been communicating like this for so long that they don’t know what to do when one of them doesn’t follow the dance steps.

When we first see them in season 2, they seem in some ways to be closer than ever. They touch each other more easily, Aziraphale in particular. Crowley is comfortable enough in the bookshop that he has a Spot for putting his sunglasses when he takes them off by the door. They’re more open about acknowledging how much time they spend together and how many things in their lives are shared.

And I think, also, we expect them to be happy. They won, didn’t they? So it takes a while for the cracks to start to show.

It wasn’t until this post pointed out that the whole season, we never see them sit down and share a meal together in the present day (no, Crowley doesn’t eat; yes, it still counts) that it started coming together for me. The closer you look, the more you realize the old patterns they’re used to relying on are broken.

Three times, we see them sit down to their usual table for two (at the coffee shop, the bar, and the French restaurant) and then almost immediately get up again. This post also points out that we don’t see present-day Aziraphale eat anything on screen, other than one of the little candies in the Bentley. This in the same season we learn that Crowley is the one who introduced him to food! It’s one of their oldest rituals!

Even one of their most visually recognizable patterns starts to go wonky this season. In season 1, when the blocking allows it, Crowley’s always on Aziraphale’s left. When they’re standing or walking side by side, and most of the time when they’re sitting side by side together (there are some exceptions due to camera angles)…Crowley’s always on Aziraphale’s left (screen right if they’re facing us, screen left if we’re behind them). It’s one of the clues about the body swap that is easy to see when you know what to look for—in Berkeley Square they are each initially sitting on the “wrong” side of the bench. It’s so reliable that Aziraphale hears a little miracle bling in the sushi restaurant in s1 ep1 and turns to his left—because that’s where Crowley would appear—only to be startled by Gabriel on his right.

Go look at the scene where we find out Gabriel and Beez are a couple. You know the one.

And of course, many people have noted that in the end credits, we’d expect their positions on screen to be switched. They’re on the wrong sides. And it’s such a long shot that I think it has to be intentional.

Some people have speculated that this means they swapped bodies again. I don’t really buy that. Rather I think it is supposed to indicate what becomes extremely clear on a second viewing, that things are Off and Wrong. They are not okay.

And the more you watch them you see that Aziraphale’s excitement during his little adventures is manic and brittle, and that he misses having a place and a purpose and a mission to do good. And Crowley is depressed, unhealthily codependent, even more hypervigilant and cagey and angry than he was before. They both have layers and layers of trauma, and no way to talk about it. They have the time and freedom now to talk about what they want to be to each other, now that they don’t have to hide and encode and maintain plausible deniability. But they have no way to talk about that either, because that’s never been an option before. They don’t know how, and they are both so, so afraid.

And in the fights they have in episode 1 and episode 6, you realize they haven’t resolved anything from season 1. They’re having the same fight they had at the bandstand. Crowley wants to run, keep the two of them safe and damn the rest, and Aziraphale wants to stay and help, believing he can make a difference even in an imperfect system, and neither of them really understands the other’s position. It’s the same damn fight. They haven’t been able to move past this impasse, and it’s the exact thing that breaks them in the end.

And it’s just. Fuck. It’s such a human thing to have happened to them. To make it through the fire (metaphorical and literal) and then have everything go to shit afterward because of unaddressed traumas and insecurities and things left unsaid until they fester.

I know this is not at all how I expected the season to go, and I think it took a little while for me to parse what was going with their relationship, because we are predisposed to want them to be happy and to want things to be easy for them now. But it makes so much sense that this is where they ended up at this point in the story.

I know they’ll make it back to each other. They both love each other too much to give up. They’ll fight their way back together, and I know they’ll figure it out in the end.

But goddamn.

[an-spideog]

Don't Use Duolingo if You Really Want to Learn Irish

That title is a bit dramatic, but I really don't think that duolingo is a useful tool for Irish, especially in its current state, so I want to talk a bit about why, and I'll also talk about some alternatives.

Pronunciation

The first and most egregious issue is that at some point recently-ish, duo decided to start using Text-To-Speech for their Irish course, rather than recordings of a native speaker. The problem here is that their TTS is not trained on native speakers of Irish and pronounces words incorrectly. It doesn't make consistent distinctions between broad and slender consonants for example.

Irish has no standard pronunciation, so I understand how it can feel weird to choose just one dialect for the purposes of pronunciation (the old recordings were from a speaker of Galway Irish), but having just one dialect is much better than TTS which sounds like a learner, imagine if they had TTS for the French course which sounded like an anglophone schoolkid trying to pronounce french, and claimed they were teaching you how to speak french!

Grammar

Duo tends to be correct on grammar at least, which is a start. But often people using it get very confused about the grammar because duo doesn't explain any of it. I think there's a place for immersion in language learning, and I don't think everything has to be explained like that, but within duo's system of sentence testing and exercises like that, not having any explanation for why it's "mo chóta" and not "mo cóta" can be really confusing. Duo used to have more grammar information, it's a shame that they removed it, I wonder why they did it.

Money and Motivation

Duolingo is a business, and their motivation is not to help you learn a language 'fully', but to keep you using their app and hopefully have a higher chance of sharing it with others, competing with others, buying or causing others to buy memberships or lingots or any other in-app purchases.

I don't want to make it out like duo is some big conspiracy and they're tricking people, I don't think that's the case, but it's good to remember that their primary motivation is to keep people using the app, rather than help people move to a level in a language where they don't need the app anymore.

Keep this in mind whenever you see people trying to sell you stuff for language learning.

Why do people use Duolingo

I do get it, and I don't want to make anyone feel bad for using duo, there's a ton of reasons people tend towards it at first 1. It's really well known, so especially if you're learning a language and haven't heard of other resources for it, you'll check duolingo 2. It's very motivating for a lot of people, checking in every day and forming that habit is a really good way of sticking with a language 3. It's fun, people enjoy it

If you use it for reason 3. and you still like it, then don't worry about this post, I'm not trying to yuck anyone's yums, keep having fun!

If you use it for reasons 1. or 2. you can still keep using it if you like, but I want to suggest some other things which you might find helpful in trying to get to a higher level in Irish.

Other Resources

To address the pronunciation issue, I'd heavily recommend you disregard the pronunciation in duolingo, if you're looking for more reliable sources of pronunciation, I'd look towards recordings of native speakers, you can find that on:

Teanglann and Foclóir (they use the same recordings)

Fuaimeanna

and a really useful and underused one: https://davissandefur.github.io/minimal-pairs/ where you can hear the difference between similar sounds that English speakers often mix up in Irish.

A lot of people like duolingo because it's nice to have a clear path forward, a progression that you can get into without too much decision-making. For this I recommend getting a good textbook or course and working through it, the ones I'll recommend also have native speaker audio on them.

Learning Irish by Mícheál Ó Siadhail, this book teaches Galway Irish, not just in pronunciation but in grammar too. It's quite dense but it's well thought out and well explained.

Teach Yourself Irish (1961) this book is available for free online, and is a really good option if you're interested in Cork Irish (Munster), and have some experience with grammatical terminology. I used this book myself and really liked it, but it's very intense and not for everyone. (If you do end up using it, feel free to skip the appendices at the start, they're more of a reference and sometimes put people off from actually getting to the first chapter. Also if you have any questions about it or need any help just let me know.)

If you want a video course, there's a great course called "Now You're Talking" which is available for free online, along with audio files and worksheets here. It features Donegal Irish and leads into the more intermediate level course called Céim ar Aghaidh also available online.

There's other textbooks that I have less experience with (Buntús na Gaeilge, Gaeilge/Gramadach Gan Stró, etc.) but if they work for you, stick with them, there's nothing worse than not making progress because you keep switching resources trying to find the "perfect one"

Whether or not you continue to use Duolingo, I would really really encourage you to try engaging with media in Irish. People often shy away from this when they're learning because they don't feel like they're "ready" yet. But you basically never feel like you're ready, you just have to try and find something near your level and try to get comfortable with not understanding everything. This is where you learn a huge portion of the language, you hear how things are pronounced you see what words mean in what contexts, getting input in your target language is so important!

I know content can be kind of hard to find, so I'll make a few recommendations here: There's a wealth of content available for free online (more if you're in ireland but some internationally) on TG4 If you're still starting out, I'd recommend trying to watch some kids shows since they'll have simpler language and will be easier to follow. I wouldn't recommend using English subtitles when you watch them. Some good options include:

Dónall Dána: an Irish dub of Horrid Henry, silly and childish but the actors have good Irish and importantly the show has Irish language subtitles, they don't always match but if you're still beginning and can't necessarily get everything by ear, they're really useful. (Mostly Galway Irish)

Curious George: another dub, again with Irish language subtitles (I can't remember what dialects were in it off the top of my head but I'd assume mostly galway again)

Seó Luna: No subtitles, but a good option if you're aiming for Munster Irish, the lead character has Kerry Irish

Miraculous: No subtitles but a better show than most of the other kids' ones and more bearable to watch as an adult (Mostly Galway Irish)

Ros na Rún: Moving away from kids shows, a long running soap opera, this has Irish subtitles and a really good mix of dialects within the show. If you're finding the kids shows boring or too easy I'd really recommend it, but it can be complex because of the amount of characters, dialects, and plotlines. I'd recommend starting at the beginning of a newer season and just trying to catch on to what's happening as you go.

There are a lot of books, if you live in Ireland you can get nearly any Irish book for free from a library, so please check out your local library or request some of these from other libraries in the system:

There's a series of fairytales (Rápúnzell, Luaithríona etc.) by Máiréad Ní Ghráda which are illustrated and for children, which are a really good option for when you're just starting out reading

There's kids books about Fionn and the Fianna by Tadhg Mac Dhonnagáin

There's a cute little kids' book in Kerry Irish about a cat named Mábúis

Leabhar Breac has a lot of graphic novels, some of them based on Irish mythology, some on other stuff. The fact that they're illustrated can make it a lot easier to follow even if you don't understand all the words at first.

Gliadar has just released their Scott Pilgrim translation

If you're looking for something a bit more advanced you can look at some of the books for adult learners by Comhar, they contain simplified language and glossaries but have full original adult stories.

And if you're wanting full, natural, native-level Irish there's a load of books by those same groups, and others like An Gúm, Cló Iar-Chonnacht, Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne, Éabhlóid, Coiscéim, and more.

And don't shy away from older books written in Seanchló either, they can be more challenging but it's a whole extra world of books

If you're trying to improve your listening comprehension, I definitely recommend listening to shows on Raidió na Gaeltachta, hearing native Irish speakers talk at full speed is really good practice. But I get that it can be overwhelming at first. Here are some things you can do as you build up to that:

Watching those same TV shows I mentioned without subtitles is a good way to build up listening skills.

Vifax is a website where you can practice listening to short news segments and answer questions on them, then getting to look at the transcript with notes afterwards.

Snas is kind of the evolution of vifax, now using clips from both the news and Ros na Rún.

I really hope that this post can help people move away from duolingo if they're looking to take their Irish learning to the next level, if you've got any questions, just let me know!

[coralinnii]

forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  feat: Sebek · Rook · Idia · Kalim genre: fluff, jealousy note: not gender-specific reader, no pronouns used (except maybe gendered French words in Rook's part but unsure), established relationships, reader is not part of Scarabia in Kalim's part, reader is implied to be smaller than Jack in Rook's part

I'm not sure how satisfied I am with this one because this was honestly quite a challenge for me. I haven't read book 6 yet so Idia may not be too accurate to his canon character? But still, I hope you guys enjoy it

Would definitely scold you for forgetting to wear your jacket. No matter how warm or how cold, Sebek always wears his school uniform neatly and with pride, his honour as Malleus' guard on the line. A sloppy appearance reflects a sloppy character, he believes.

You didn’t feel too bad when he was reluctant to give you his jacket upon request. You shouldn’t force someone just because you’re a little cold. 

Fortunately for you, a classmate of yours noticed your shivering and offered his own for the time being, saying he has a spare for Flying class. You thanked your good luck as you graciously accepted. Now Sebek won’t feel bad about not giving you his jacket, right? 

With your newly acquired jacket, you managed to survive the first half of the school day and went to find Sebek in the cafeteria during recess. You waved at him happily as you approached his table but he did not return the greeting. 

He felt a sense of bile in his throat when he saw you in a jacket that did not fit you at all. The shoulders were too wide and the sleeves engulfed you. Sure, you looked cute but he doesn’t like it. He initially thought that it was because he didn't like how unfitting it was on you. 

“Human, where did you acquire that jacket? It doesn’t suit you at all” 

When you answered how someone offered his jacket to you, the bile was more prominent. The way you snuggled into another boy’s jacket, the oversized fabric enveloping you like a warm cocoon. Sure, he was hesitant over handing you his jacket before, but knowing someone else provided for you hits him in a sore spot as your boyfriend. He wants to be the one to take care of you, to be your ever reliable knight. 

Quickly, Sebek stood up from his seat and started to remove his own jacket. Without looking at you, he asked you to remove the jacket you have and put his on. 

“But I’m comfy” 

“Please, I…I beg of you” 

You did as he asked and after quickly putting away his lunch tray, he escorted you back to your dorm to get your own jacket and to quickly return the jacket of that generous classmate of yours. 

“The idea of seeing someone else take care of you… as your boyfriend, I will not stand for it!”

A masterful huntsman, Rook Hunt is not an easy man to track. Not to mention the fact that he’s a third year and Pomefiore’s vice Housewarden, you figured that searching for him this early in the day would be a fruitless endeavour. 

Luckily, you did find Jack who, despite his grumbles over your absentmindedness, offered his jacket to you. Happy, you promised that you returned it with a favour to the beastman. 

However, the atmosphere around you seemed odd to you as the school day went on. Other students, particularly the beastman students, were busy whispering and gossiping behind you which confused you and honestly got a little bit on your nerves. 

All those unpleasant feelings quickly disappeared when you spotted a familiar feathered hat in the distance. Without a word, you quickly rushed through the crowd to give your boyfriend a hug from behind. 

Or least, that’s what you planned if it weren’t for Rook quickly turning to encase you in his arms instead. 

“I thought I heard your adorable footsteps running towards me. What a wonderful surprise!”

You laughed, thinking you should have known nothing gets past Rook. You tried to step back but realized that Rook maintained his grip on you, inspecting you with a look of curiosity. 

The hunter looks over your newly acquired jacket. The shoulders are much too bulky to be yours. He noticed the Savanaclaw emblem on the sleeve which would explain the jacket's size considering how the majority of those students are. However, he caught the scent of something -  of someone - familiar. A certain tall, gruff beastman to be precise. 

“Mon amour, is this perhaps… Jack Howl’s jacket?” 

“Oh, how did you know?” You exclaimed as you told Rook how you were cold today and Jack offered his jacket to you this morning. 

“So that explains the whispering I’ve been hearing” Rook thought as he carefully traced the lapels of the jacket clearly not tailored for you. There’s a charm to see you in a new look like this but the hunter himself is experiencing a new emotion, a burning feeling in his chest that compels him to rip away the offending fabric. Is this jealousy? Perhaps a possessive urge to reclaim his spot that feels threatened by a newcomer? 

Oh, what a beautiful new experience you have given this admirer of beauty. Rook happily revels in this feeling he has never experienced before until meeting you. 

“How wonderfully kind of him. Let us find him, I must share my thanks for caring for my beautiful trésor~” 

There’s a part of you that feels like it would not be a good idea to bring Rook to your friend, but you decided to brush that anxious feeling away. After all, the smile on Rook’s face convinced you that there was no harm (poor choice, really). 

Hidden from your sight, Rook’s fingers slightly twitched in anticipation as the two of you went to look for the white-haired freshman. Rook truly did want to offer his thanks to the beastman…with some helpful tips for surviving a hunter. 

“One must be very careful in the wild. It is not smart to leave marks near a hunter’s territory”

You didn't even bother to try asking him, this man isn’t even on campus. Even if he was, you doubt he would give you his jacket, probably claiming it’d be “such a normie cliche”, leaving you to find other means to find warmth. 

Thankfully, you found the kind-hearted Silver who was gracious enough to lend you his school jacket for the day. With all the interesting types of students you have encountered on this campus, your flame-haired boyfriend included, Silver is odd himself for simply being such an outlier case of a typical student here. 

The day went off normally, and you decided to visit Idia in his room before heading back to your dorms. You hope you could spend some intimate time with him, some cuddling and perhaps a kiss or two. 

Too bad your boyfriend had other plans, which was apparently playing video games while purposely ignoring you. His back is turned towards you and every time you get close to him, the gamer has the audacity to scoot AWAY from you. 

“Idia, please tell me what’s wrong before I actually get mad” 

“...that jacket” You heard him mumble which confused you further. You asked to repeat himself. 

Which led your introverted boyfriend to yell out, surprising you. “You're wearing that jacket! And it had to be that guy who’s practically an otome game target!” 

Idia was sulking the entire day as he saw you through the security camera accepting Silver’s jacket. He wanted to scream and call foul-play on that but instead he reluctantly faced reality. Of course, Silver will be that type of guy. The mysterious but kind knight archetype with good looks to boot. Idia wouldn’t be surprised if he was some kind of long lost prince. 

“Well, I would love it if my boyfriend would give me his, if he wasn’t allergic to coupley stuff” there was some snark in your tone but you never really want to pressure Idia to do something he doesn’t want. You would love to show off your relationship with Idia but you wanted to respect his comfort.

Idia knows that, and he’s grateful for you for not pushing him too far out of his comfort zone. But still, knowing someone acting like that with you, all sweet and caring, leaves a sour taste in Idia’s mouth.

There was a short pause between you two, letting the mood settle before saying anything else. Then, Idia quietly asked, “Do you want to share jackets…with me?” 

“Absolutely” you gasped excitedly and without another word, Idia turned to his computer and started searching the Internet for worthwhile jackets in his sizes and yours. If you have more jackets then you won’t have to go around asking for someone else’s.

Also, even he can’t resist the giddy feeling of seeing his amazing lover wear something that’s special only to you and him, not that he would admit it out loud. Too cringe.

“If we’re doing the lame normie stuff, we’re doing it our way. And no sharing with anybody else, right??”

Kalim would absolutely offer you his jacket, his vest, his shirt, heck even his pants without question. Whatever you want, he would give it up no questions asked. But you were surprised how you couldn’t find your boyfriend at first, until he texted you he had to be called in for a Housewarden meeting with Crowley which leaves you to wait for him in the cold. 

Luckily, a classmate of yours from Scarabia saw you shivering and offered his jacket to you. Afterall, you were his Housewarden’s beloved so he wanted to make sure you’re warm for Kalim’s sake. You were touched by this sentiment and accepted the jacket, promising to return it after meeting with Kalim.

Kalim ran to hug you as soon as he saw you as he left his meeting, enveloping you in his warm embrace with a grin on his face. In his excitement, it took a while for him to register your slightly new look. 

“Did you join Scarabia? Are we in the same house now?!” Kalim excitedly asked which you laughed at his silliness. 

When you explained the story about the jacket, Kalim was really glad. He thought about how lucky he is to have such kind people in his dorm that was so happy to help out his beloved, he must reward them later! The white-haired man was happy that you were cared for in his short absence. 

But, what is this other feeling in his heart? This heavy feeling in his chest that slightly aches when he saw how you adjusted the jacket on you, bringing it closer to your body like a comforting blanket. He felt unsatisfied, almost fearful of your attachment to this jacket. 

Was he jealous? 

Kalim shook off his thoughts as he removed his soft beige cardigan and the jacket you have. You watched him confused as he draped his cardigan over you, replacing the heat from your classmate’s jacket to his.  

“Kalim?” 

“I just thought you’d be comfier if you had my cardigan instead. It’s really soft!” he grinned as he pulled the large cardigan to wrap around you like a cute burrito. 

And to be fair, Kalim’s cardigan WAS comfier. Probably made with the highest quality and taken the best care by you assume Jamil. You happily snuggled into its warmth, reveling in the cloud soft coat, missing the loving looks from your sunshine of a boyfriend. 

Yea, he definitely likes seeing you in his clothes better. 

Don’t be surprised to see packages of luxurious coats and sweaters from yours truly. You two can match!

“If you’re ever cold, you can always come to me first! I’ll make sure to keep you warm!”  

[transmutationisms]

the idea that 'science' is an unmitigated and inherent social good---a politically neutral and universally beneficial process of accumulating knowledge---is wildly ahistorical and dangerously, wilfully ignorant of the role that science and its purveyors / practitioners have played in imperial and colonial expansion. warwick anderson went so far as to say that colonial medicine was better understood as a discourse of settlement than one of health promotion, & we can see this quite easily in, for example, french doctors' use of the nostalgia diagnosis to guide colonial policy in algeria in the 1830s, attempting to securely settle a french population there; or in the development of a science of 'water cures', spa treatments considered to mitigate the insalubrious effects of foreign (particularly tropical) environments, for which the french army by the 1890s granted routine medical leave because the 'health' of its soldiers was not a matter of individual interest but a state resource.

but medicine is in many ways an easy case when it comes to the relationship between science and the state; all too often we still seem reluctant to acknowledge, for example, the pursuit of economic botany and animal / plant breeding in the early modern period as contributors to discourses of acclimatisation and proto-eugenics, sciences that were given state financial support on these utilitarian grounds & not for any high-minded general pursuit of 'knowledge'; or the development of navigational instruments and knowledge from the 14th century or so onward as a project explicitly funded and intended to permit faster, cheaper, more reliable colonial exploration and travel; or the sheer amount of research in physics and chemistry that has been and is devoted to weapons development or natural resource extraction; or the promise of space travel as a further possibility for obtaining raw materials as well as for settlement---often marketed in terms and visual rhetoric explicitly comparing the 'space colony' to its terrestrial precursor: 'the final frontier', depicted as both lush tropical paradise & as rugged american west, waiting to be conquered & brought to heel.

i am of course not hostile to 'science' in any totalising way; this would be as indefensible a position as the automatic 'defence' of all such practices; they're not monolithic or intrinsically doomed to serve state interests. but it is simply irresponsible to pretend that the scientific inquiry into something---describing it, measuring it, taxonomising it---is inherently a social good, or that the pursuit of 'knowledge' is ever an apolitical endeavour. knowing, seeing, & measuring the world grant immense power; states and empires know this. scientific inquiry is not tangentially related to imperial and colonial expansion; often it is a critical piece of the machinery by which these processes occur. wilful ignorance of this fact in favour of an optimistic conception of science as a universal social good is not just inaccurate but propagandistic & an advancement of state & imperial interests.

[milaisreading]

I will be his Valentine... right?

AN: This was kind of a suggestion from @chxxrybxxmb and I found it fun to write! Hope u like it!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her, but since she is crossdressing, the guys use he/him. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

It was the night before Valentine's Day, and the boys at Blue Lock for the first time were invested in the day. Emotions were high and the tension was all over the place in the 5 stratums. Everyone was either nervous or excited about the upcoming holiday, excited to give their gift to a certain captain, who looked dead inside half of the time. Currently, it was bedtime for the players, and while most of the were asleep, the captain included, a certain group of people was wide awake and talking... as civiliy as possible.

German stratum🇩🇪

"What did you get for (Y/n)? I found this chocolate brand he wanted to try for a while." Hiori grinned as he showed off the box, the rest of the group looking at their wrapped up items.

"A-ah... I found a perfume and some other things I know he would like." Isagi said as he glanced at his present. He pretty much lied on that one. He remembered (Y/n) say how she wanted to try out make-up and mentioned a specific brand, but couldn't get it because her parents would get rid of it if they found it. So, he went and bought it when they had a day off. Yukimiya nodded his head and looked down at his present, which was wrapped up in pink and silver wrapping paper.

"I found some limited edition plushie at the Sanrio store. He did say he liked those items. I was lucky since it was the last one."

"I heard him mention he likes collecting sport cards. So I got them and an album where he can store it." Kurona added in, smiling proudly as Gagamaru remembered his present that was back in his room.

"I got him flowers! Heard roses are a good gift for Valentine's Day."

"My sister said something to keep your loved one warm is the best gift, so I got him a scarf." Kunigami chimed in as they all looked at each other. Silence fell among the players as they eyed the presents that were in the room.

"He will be my Valentine, just so you know." Yukimiya smiled, causing the rest to look at him in bewilderment.

"What? My present is clearly the best."

"No way! (Y/n) will be my Valentine! My present is a 100x better!" Isagi glared at the model, earning tsk sounds from Hiori and Kunigami.

"I am clearly the best pick here. (Y/n) needs someone who is gentle and calm."

"Oh please, Hiori. We all know that your facade doesn't work on anyone. You can't fool me. (Y/n) would probably want someone who is more reliable like me." Kunigami rolled his eyes as the cyan-haired boy looked at him while smiling.

"Didn't hear you correctly, muscle head. Repeat that."

"I am a good pick, as well! I know that! I know that!" Kurona added in as Gagamaru frowned a little.

"(Y/n) would like my gift way more. Plus, the two of us have more in common. I am a better pick."

French stratum 🇫🇷

"What did you just say, bird head?!" Rin yelled out as he looked at Karasu, who sported his signature smirk as Tokimitsu tried to calm Rin down.

"I saaaiiddd," Karasu said in a condescending manner, annoying Rin even further.

"I am going to be (Y/n)'s Valentine. I bought the best gift for him. He is closer to me than to you. And, we get each other's humor more. What do you two have in common, again?" Karasu's smirk widened as Rin's face turned redder.

"You?! You are literally beneath him. You can't even dribble the ball properly. Why would (Y/n) pick you? If anything, I am the number 1 pick."

"Not everything is about football." Tokimitsu chimed in, a little annoyed by the two of them.

"I am sure he connects with me the most. You know, not everything is about football skills. Sometimes personality wins." This sparked a even louder argument between the trio, each one of them trying to say why they are the ones (Y/n) would want.

Italian stratum 🇮🇹

Niko nervously wrapped up the gift he prepared for (Y/n) as Aryu and Barou were having their own conversation... more like mini argument. It started off as a calm conversation between the older two, but soon turned sour as they tried to justify why (Y/n) would pick just one of them.

"I am the one (Y/n) is closest to. Why would he pick a drama queen like you? Also, I bought a better gift." Barou glared at Aryu, who just rolled his eyes.

"It's not about the gift, Barou. It's about who makes (Y/n) feel the most comfortable and happiest, and that's obviously me. I always give him my skincare, always share my food with him. I have a way better chance." Aryu chuckled as Barou's face turned red in anger.

"I do way more for him that you do! He likes me more, just give it up."

"Over my dead body."

As the two continued arguing, Niko finished packing up the present. A small smile and blush decorating his face as he thought of the captain.

'I hope he likes it. It's the least I could do after he scared those bullies away that one time...'

English stratum 🏴󐁧󐁢󐁥󐁮󐁧󐁿

"Chigiri, I need you to be so serious right now and leave (Y/n) alone." Reo said, sending Chigiri a fake smile, something that the redhead returned to him.

"I am serious right now, Reo. (Y/n) wants me around, and probably would pick me to be his Valentine over you any day. After all, I am not the one who tried to throw him away as friend." Reo flinched a little from the last remark, but quickly recovered.

"We, as in Nagi, (Y/n), and I made up already. Stop being mad on his behalf. And even so, he knows me the best. Of course he will pick me as his Valentine. And I will make sure to rub that in your face tomorrow."

Chigiri's eye twitched for a moment as he saw the billionaire's smirk.

"(Y/n) preferes personality, Mikage. Something you don't have."

"You little bastard..." The two started shouting at each other while Nagi was sleeping soundly on his bed while hugging one of his pillows. In his dreams, it was already Valentine's Day, and he was out on a date with (Y/n) while he made sure to rub his victory into his teammates' faces.

Spanish stratum 🇪🇸

The atmosphere between Otoya and Bachira was surprisingly calm for the most part. Bachira was in his corner and Otoya was in his. Both were either preparing their speech tomorrow or making finishing touches on the packaging. Bachira smiled warmly as he looked at his present, already imagining (Y/n)'s reaction.

'Bachira, this is the best gift I could have gotten! Of course I will be your Valentine!' The boy giggled as be imagined the scenario.

Meanwhile, Otoya could feel his heart racing as he thought of all the possible outcomes. He can't really remember when the last time was that he was invested in the holiday.

'You are the best, Otoya! This is so sweet! Of course I will date you!' The boy sighed dreamily at the thought.

"(Y/n) will definitely be my Valentine." The duo said at the same time, causing them to look at each other.

"What did you just say?!"

"No! What did you just say?!"

The next day, the air in the dining hall was pretty tense as they waited for (Y/n) to come and eat breakfast. The Blue Lock team tried to stay calm and subtle, but prepared themselves to fight each other to be by (Y/n)'s side as soon as she walks in.

"Hmm? What's up with you all?" Loki wondered as he left his table to go talk with Rin, Karasu, and Tokimitsu.

"Nothing-" Karasu spoke up, but stopped himself as he saw (Y/n) walk in, holding a beige wrapped present.

'A gift?! For who?!' The team wondered, excited to see who will get it.

"Hmm? Good morning, you all! Hope you slept well." (Y/n) smiled at the team before walking over to where Loki was.

"Happy Valentine's Day! Here, hope you like it!" She cheered while giving Loki the present. The French prodigy smiled as he took it, then started guiding (Y/n) out of the dining hall.

"Thank you. My present for you is back at my stratum. Let's go and get it."

The team watched in horror and confusion as (Y/n) got taken away by Loki... Julian Loki of all people! How could they compete with him?!

'No way...'

'Why him?! Why not me?!'

'I knew (Y/n) for way longer than that guy! This isn't fair.'

The team gulped, sending each other frantic looks. They couldn't lose their captain like this!

"We need to separate them. As soon as possible." Rin spoke up as he slammed his hand against the table, earning nods from the rest.

[86espresso]

where do we go now? | qh43

-> 1.7k

sum: you’re the best in my life and I lost you

warnings: HAPPY ENDING in the second part don’t run away, not as heartwrenching as the song I promise, breaking up, angst, feeling like a pile of emotionless trash ❤️, she/her for reader, use of y/n. you’re Quinn’s age and your favorite flowers are marigolds btw.

a/n: I love this song, it hurts so bad <3

You flop on the couch, looking disheveled and tired. Junior year really brings out the worst in everyone. Quinn, who was sat at its end, immediately threw aside his phone and put his sole attention on you.

“Hi, Goldie. How was school?”

“Horrible. I’ll kill mys-” 

“Okay, okay I won’t let you finish that,” he muses. “I worry about you sometimes.”

“You don’t need to, Q. I’ve got it under control. Swear on Jack’s life.”

“I can’t decide if that’s reliable.”

“Hey!”

The younger boy was the one who gave you the nickname after your favorite flowers, and as annoying as he can be, he never fails to make you smile.

“Alright, boys. No need to throw hands. Quinn, could you wake me up in twenty minutes? Carla’s coming over for tutoring.” You add sleepily as you lay your head on Quinn’s lap, and he immediately threads his fingers through your hair, giving you a gentle scalp massage and acknowledging that he heard you. You really could get used to this everyday, til junior (closest thing to hell on earth) year ends.

The tutoring session with Carla goes by fast since its always fun with her sharp personality. She always has the right words at the top of her tongue. Which is why it was concerning to see her quiet after the session was over. 

“What’s up, Car?” 

“I don’t know,” she sighs, running a hand through her short hair, “You- well, it’s weird since I don’t seem like the type to talk about these things-”

“Spit it out, Carla,” You deadpan. 

“You’re, like, in love with Quinn, right?”

It catches you off guard and you check the door of your designated room in the Hughes’ house to be safe before answering, “Yeah?” 

“Do you ever plan on telling him?” 

You can’t help the way all of your insides turned to mush, “I did, actually. A couple of days ago.”  

You flushed as you remembered that night. 

You and Quinn had just sat down to study for the same stupid French exam you both needed to take. It was exhausting but studying with your favorite person made it so much better. 

“You know, you’re, like, my best friend.” 

You pause, but continue a moment later because you knew that Quinn could sit in silence for hours with everyone except you. 

“Yep.” 

“Okay.”

You laugh through your nose, he might be the most endearing person ever. 

“I love you.”

Now. 

You would’ve lied if you said you didn’t feel your stomach lurching in a good way. 

“I love you, too? Quinn, what’s-?” 

“It’s like.” He shuts his textbook. “You’re the one person who knows me inside out and you’re, like, always there for me. And I-“ he huffs, running a hand through his hair as if he couldn’t find the right words, slightly distracting you with his bicep. 

“I don’t know what I would do without someone as constant as you in my life, y’know?”

Quinn was definitely more empathetic than his brothers, but the sentiment was almost too much for you to handle. 

So, the sudden bravery and burst of emotion in you decided that you will not start crying and instead throw your notebook to the side and straddle his lap. And cup his face. 

As soon as you realized what you did, mortification took over all of your senses and before you could clamber off of Quinn’s lap, he puts his hands firmly on your hips to lock you in place. 

“Goldie,” he murmurs your sweet nickname as if in a trance. 

“Can I-?” 

“Please.”

His voice was borderline desperate when your lips collided in a firm, dizzying kiss. It started to escalate when the kisses went from soft to feverish and his hands were all over your body and tangled in your hair, French textbooks long forgotten. 

“I love you so much more, baby,” You managed to say between pants and stolen kisses here and there while you and Quinn stayed intertwined. That’s when he shoved your face into his chest so you wouldn’t see the blush on his face. 

You two eventually broke apart because it really was super late and even with the adrenaline, you weren’t sure if you could stay awake any longer. 

So, you and Quinn made your ways to your separate rooms, grinning like complete idiots but not without sharing a goodnight embrace. 

“Shut the actual fuck up.” Carla snaps you out of your trance, jaw hitting the floor. “Honestly, I never thought you would ever grow the balls to do that.” You could never stop smiling around Carla. 

“Well, I did grow the balls and you weren’t finished with what you were going to say.”

She looked uncomfortable again. You spared her the misery and said it for her instead. 

“Jack.”

“Oh god.” 

She buried her head in her hands. 

“I can’t have a crush. That’s literally so embarrassing, golds.”

“It’s absolutely not embarrassing, Car. It’s okay to like someone if they’re worth it, y’know?”

“I don’t like him.”

Sure she didn’t, but you ended it at that.

One thing you learnt from being the oldest child with neglectful parents was to lock up your own feelings and put them away in some dusty top shelf while you attend to others.

And now it was almost the end of senior year. 

The Hughes’ knew you since you walked into their life at 11 years old. They all, especially Quinn, understood you better than anyone else. 

They started noticing small changes. 

How you stopped spending special time with Luke where you both did his homework and helped with girl problems. How you stopped organizing pranks with Jack and his friends and having witty banters. How you’d started to shy away from Quinn’s touch and become nervous-uncomfortable around him rather than nervous-giddy.

Every time he would praise you, you would think of the lower than average score you got on the test earlier. Every time you two were out for lunch, you would remember how you started falling off in your favorite sport, and your hunger would go away. You felt sick to your stomach about every little thing you did. 

Quinn isn’t that much of an idiot though. He knew you needed space so he avoided prodding too much. 

“Hey, goldie”

You let out a soft hum, acknowledging that you heard Luke before he takes a seat next to you, a spot where you were usually found overlooking the vast lake. Luke would always be a little brother to you, even now that he’s 15 and understands so much more than he did when he was 7. 

“You’re sad,” he noted. The corner of your lips twitched.

“Not anymore, Lu, and you don’t need to worry about me,” you gave him a glance before shifting the conversation to him and asking about school and hockey. He took the bait, bless his heart, and talked while you gave the occasional hum and raise of your eyebrows. He knew not to be offended; you weren’t exactly… you anymore.

“You know.” He breaks the few minutes of silence. “If there’s something that’s really bothering you, you should tell us. Or at least Quinn. He’s worried.”

You were wrong. The little boy you grew up with wasn’t stupid enough to take the bait.

For the first time in days, tears sprang to your eyes. You look up at the sky that was getting darker with time, just like you.

“it’s just- everything, I feel so useless and sad and I’m always snappy, and.” You take a deep breath. “Quinn’s moving. He has his whole life planned out. And, so do you and Jack. What the hell am I supposed to do? Michigan is so far away from Vancouver, I don’t even know my majors yet I just-” You stop, because the boy who you were almost four years older to didn’t deserve to hear your worthless problems.

Regardless, he pulls you into a tight hug without intentions of letting go.

“Y/N.” You momentarily freeze at the lack of your nickname. “All of us can’t really imagine a life without you. Those stupid things don’t decide your worth. You mean so much to us, goldie.”

You knew his words held meaning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe them.

The next day, you were found at the same spot. Not by Luke this time, but by a softer, deeper voice that used to be sugar to your ears. Still is, but clouded with the mess of emotions in your head. Or lack thereof.

“Hey, baby.” The pet name actually did something to your stomach this time. You don’t deserve to be called baby by him.

“Hi,” You whispered back. You look up at him as he he sits next to you, mustering a small smile because its the least he deserves. He seems to light up at the slight display of emotion, and leans in to kiss your forehead.

You don’t deserve to be taken care of so gently.

You don’t deserve any of it.

His touch was so comforting but it felt like poison. You lean into it and pull away because this may be the last time you ever talk to him.

“We need to break up, Quinn.”

He’d spoken softer words to you at first but it escalated. He couldn’t be blamed for fighting back, because the girl he knew, the girl he laid his heart out for, wasn’t there anymore all of a sudden. His eyes were teary and yours were dull and dry. 

“Quinn, I’m leaving and you need to stay away from me.”

“No.”

“You look so hopeful, trying to convince me that we- we were made for each other and we’re supposed to last forever and that I have it figured out as well as you do. We are so different, Quinn. It was never going to work out.”

“Just-” he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “If it’s the space that you need, you know where I am.” His voice had grown soft, but you had already turned your back. 

The rest of it was a haze; packing the few clothes you brought with you to Michigan, leaving without telling anyone. Except Jack, who saw you packing through the doorway and got sad, knowing exactly what’s going to happen.

You went to your aunt’s home after that, which was in a small town that was annoyingly close to Vancouver. It was serene and quiet and Carla had committed to college there. 

If it’s the space that you need, you know where I am.

/

so part two yes no idk

love u all 💗

[letruyuread]

I've decided to continue the small thoughts thing, even if I haven't done their books yet. Some might be ooc. I've tried🥲

Vil knows he's beautiful. With makeup, without, in a gorgeous outfit or simple sweats. It just means a little bit more when you tell him he's gorgeous and he wasn't even trying. He just woke up, and you're already showering him with affection. He IS gorgeous- but could you say it one more time, please?

Rook... hold on. (Rapid fire research go!) He, of course, thinks you're beautiful. He may be stalkerish, like he is with Leona and the twins, but it's all in good intentions. You're interesting! He is a hunter, after all. I think his heart softens when you pay attention to him, to. Say something to him in French, or listen to his poetry. Compliment his eyesight. He'll fall a little bit harder. (Can you tell how much I relied on the wiki-)

I already love Epel, despite not having met him yet. He wants to be reliable for you- a real man! Yes, he's adorable, don't tell him that, he'll pout. Just let him help you. Anything, really, he'll carry your books or help you fix up Ramshackle. He'll get flustered in you ask him to teach you the apple-carving thing, though.

Idia was the one who got me to play the game (just like me fr). You'll have to befriend Ortho first- not hard, just find the little guy and be nice! He'll quickly start to see you as an older sibling the more you help him (please I want to adopt this kid). And, you're the perfect person to help his brother come out of his shell! Ortho will introduce you two, help Idia overcome his shyness (on occasion) and soon Idia's comfortable around you! Mission accomplished! Idia, then, lets you into his room and plays games with you. He tries to communicate with you, though them- it's just a bit easier to play a dating sim with you than to ask you out.

(oof fae time)

Malleus is awkward in an odd way. He's not shy or nervous, he simply doesn't know how to interact with you. He's trying, forgive him if he says the wrong thing, he never ever meant to insult you. In fact, he might already think you're betrothed- you'll have to put it to him gently that you weren't even dating, and that relationships usually go much slower than that. He learns quick, at least.

Lilia is old. That is undeniable, and it's funny to think he's going to college with his sons. He plays into his silliness, loving to surprise you and prank you and such. He loves to play into his age, too. Whenever you get a bit too mad, he's suddenly complaining about his back, all hunched over and holding his spine. See through his antics. Give him the scolding he deserves, I beg you. It won't stop him at all- this is how faes court, after all! (No it's not old man-)

Sebek is intense. He does exactly as he said he would when taking an interest in someone: writing them love letters every moon, and every fifth moon, including a picture of himself. It's what Lilia taught him! Yes, he's taking it very seriously! It's up to you to tell him Lilia may have been tricking him... and/or taking over the courting yourself. You'll never get anywhere, otherwise. Just be... patient.

Silver... is tired. Yes, such a surprise. He's a sweetie, though, always trying to help you out while stifling a yawn. His animal friends give you gifts, too. Nuts and seeds and feathers. Keep them in a small box- if Silver finds out, he'll be so touched. He told his friends to give you this stuff! And you kept them! Did you even realize they were from him? Doesn't matter, as long as they made you happy.

(I hope I did well!)

[sweet-as-an-angel]

I know you must be busy and have a lot of work to do, so dont feel pressured to respond !! 😊

Anyways, i have Dominic💓 brainrot 😫‼️‼️💔💔, and was wondering what hed think of a reader that has been raised in a lower/working-class household all of their life ?

Here we have a person that's not has had even a *taste* of luxury, their clothes being second-hand, thrifting becoming their past-time, and, havung had parents living paycheck-to-paycheck, would feel guilty for ever asking tjem for anything, and had starting working for Dominic because they were desperate to pay them back for all the sacrifices they msde for them in their childhood :((

And here we have Dominic, a successful, wealthy business man, secretly raising their wages, and the whole time reader feels sheepish and at times even *embarrassed*, overwhelmed by so much money ??

Especially whrn he slides in a thick envelope with a generous stack of cash into their back pocket with a charming wink, or buys them sometjing that they had mentioned wanting in a passing conversation as they had been sadly stating how they coupd never afford it, and Dominic saying that its absolutely��

—"Not a problem in the slightest, mon chéri. Why wouldn't I want to reward my favourite babysitter for their hard work?"— **oozing** charisma and smiling his dazzling, award-winning smile, and insisting that—

—"You shouldn't be fussing over trifles such as money. Hard work pays off, and you have been working very hard indeed." ... @@"" ",

Anon, you've hit the nail on the head with this one 🤭. Thank you so much for writing in and enjoying my Dominic content, it means the world to me <3 !

TW: Dominic, Manipulative Mentions of Weight Loss, Implied Smut, Dominic Being a Creep

♡ But yes, absolutely, Dominic would use his financial position as a means of dominance over you. Subtly, of course, so that you don't know he's being...unabashed his efforts to woo you. But prevalent enough that you still feel indebted - grateful - to him for all that he's done.

♡ The longer you know each other, the more personal - intimate - the gifts he gets you become. Speaking on that, he makes a habit to inadvertently reward behaviours he desires in you, such as cutting off friends, dumping your boyfriend, spending more time around him, etc.

♡ At first, the gifts are general - vague - and inconspicuous; they belie the true extent to which Dominic has memorised your tastes. Something like a low-price jumper he knows is your general style, something to keep you warm in winter. He'll give you a smile. "Can't have our favourite babysitter freezing up now, can we."

♡ Then, it'll be a pair of boots to go with the jumper - "So you won't have any difficulty getting to and from our house."

♡ It doesn't matter that you live right next door to each other. Dominic doesn't want you taking any chances.

♡ He'll use his assertiveness to trick you into believing you've "Gotten a little thinner these days. Are you eating properly?"

♡ He'll feign concern as he comes close to you, lifting your arms, apologising and faking a vague bashfulness as he apologises for overstepping. "French hospitality, I suppose," he says, averting his eyes for no longer than a second.

♡ And of course, you believe him. Of course, you don't see a problem with his behaviour, especially when he seems so concerned for your wellbeing.

♡ He won't let that lie, by the way. He'll keep telling you how you seem to keep dropping a size every time you see him. Eventually, he'll insist on taking you out to dinner.

♡ When you inevitably try to refuse his kindness, he'll whip out old reliable. "It was supposed to be Marilyn and I's dinner date, but she's..." he glances down the hall. Gives his brow a light yet chiselled furrow. He wonders if you can hear the fizz of the sedative in Marilyn's drink as he can, the sound fresh in his ears.

♡ "Sick, unfortunately."

♡ So now, obviously, Dominic is faced with a dilemma. But you have the solution.

♡ He asks you to accompany him — “I’ll pay for you, of course,” — to take Marilyn’s place.

♡ You resist at first. Tell him that you couldn’t possibly do that. But Dominic is the father of manipulation, and he’s nursed many a lie, watched the become their own adulterous identities, and knows exactly how to get you to go.

♡ “Please, you deserve a break. And besides, I don’t want to be seen eating all the lobster on my lonesome.”

♡ You succumb to his efforts. He tells you to get ready for your dinner date. You tell him you have nothing worthy of wearing.

♡ He knows this.

♡ He smiles. Brings you to a room that is filled to the brim in outfits he says that “Marilyn and I rarely use. Something here will be your size, I'm sure.”

♡ He’s made sure there is. He’s bought half a dozen suits and dresses in just your size — and a little over or under depending on how tightly he wants to see the fabric squeeze you — for this exact occasion. Of which he expects there to be multiple.

♡ He resists the temptation of watching you undress. Of seeing you so bare in his house.

♡ He settles for whatever little flashes of skin your outfit affords. All of which were bought with the sole intention of giving Dominic enough to work with for his midnight musings.

♡ This is not the last time Dominic will treat you to dinner, the last time he watches your eyes bulge out of your skull as you see the amount the bill comes down to — a luxury Dominic lets you see to really instill that sense of indebtedness.

♡ And each time, he tries to get you further and further over the threshold of his house. His room.

♡ When you get undressed and back into your ordinary clothes, Dominic tells you he’ll keep the outfit and wash it.

♡ You don’t know it’s yours yet.

♡ He doesn’t wash it. He all but bathed in the scent of you, mouthing the places your warmest, most intimate sorts would have been pressed against. He imagines you there, vividly.

♡ He wonders how much you’d be willing to bend to the will of his wealth. How much he can make you do until you’re entrenched in his affections, toffee-sweet and with all its viscosity.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

[despazito]

in my old apartment, i had both my little wiry terrier mutt dog (he lives with my mom and dad currently) and my cat. one time i had a mouse running around in my back room - while i was trying to figure out what the hell to do about it i saw my cat just like. watch it scurry right in front of her with only a mildly intrigued look on her face. but a moment after, the second it got close to my terrier he lunged forward and broke its neck so fast and so clean it seemed to surprise him as much as it surprised me. there was literally no blood, just a flash of teeth and it was over. all that to say that i think terriers are tenacious little shits with a prey drive that’s so much larger than their size would imply

i REALLY wish more people who kept barn cats for pest control would instead keep or invite over working terriers to their farms. i love cats but they aren't as reliable, don't fair great against rats, and take a lot of native bycatch when allowed to roam freely.

It's sad because it feels like terrier breeds have just fallen out of favour in general. i'm a zillenial cusper and i remember the tail end of wishbone's popularity and the noughties hot pink purse dog era which included some terriers, it's a shame the latter niche has been replaced by french bulldog ownership..

[copperbadge]

I always enjoy writing updates on the royal family in these books, but I am having such fun expanding Simon's character and writing his banter with Ylias. I haven't gotten to write an older character who doesn't start out visibly struggling, and Simon's just kind of a dude who loves romance and enjoys being functionally king of chefs in Fons-Askaz.

Simon and Ylias had what I'm calling a "Ene-meet" over some cheese and the next time she saw him she called him Mr. Ricotta (I may try and make this better -- I'd like some kind of French pun where she basically calls him "white guy" while also calling him some form of cheese) and while they've since mostly buried the hatchet because they have to work together on the Reclamation Day festival, they are both enjoying pretending they're still smarting over it.

"Can you do all this..." Ylias gestured at their lists, "for Reclamation Day and also do the catering? Because I feel like we do throw around at least enough weight to make someone else take that over."

"Hm, there is a lot to supervise. A practical consideration, thank you," he said, absently flipping through his own notes. "I will find someone reliable enough to serve His Majesty but also young enough to still be impressed by the request. Which leaves remaining only the cooking competition."

"Not to complain, but this seems like a really random thing to have at Reclamation Day," Ylias said. "It's not a village fete or something."

"It began as a sort of grudge, years ago," he said. "Two cooks had a dispute; they declared to decide for one or the other on Reclamation Day -- in public, with the public's help in settling the matter. It proved very popular, and of course if there are a dozen people all competing, the results can be sold for funds for charity."

"So we're supposed to set this up, set the theme, and source the judges," Ylias said.

"Set-up is already arranged -- the judging tent is always in the same place. They only have to bring in their example of the challenge recipe and lay it out."

"I guess it's a little on the nose for this year's theme to be like...an Eddie Rambler classic recipe."

He smiled. "We may consider it but also, consider: are you aware of..." his voice dropped. "The Trash Tower?"

She nodded.

"Imagine a tent full of examples of Shivadh twists on the Trash Tower," he said.

"It doesn't look like Dante's inferno, but it doesn't not," she said. "Maybe another thing we want to ask about at the next meeting?"

"I think so. For judges, usually a member of the royal family, but also then someone who knows food, and sometimes a famous person if one can get one."

"Can we?"

"I would as soon not," LeFevre replied, which Ylias couldn't argue with. "I think perhaps for the royals, Princeps Joan would like to judge. Or if her fathers would prefer she does not, Duke Gerald. He would pretend it was his little one judging, give her some of everything to try, pretend he knows what she says. Very funny."

"Want me to tap someone with food chops from the town?" Ylias asked.

"Yes, but speak with me before you ask them, just to be sure."

"Yep, I wouldn't mind a road map to all the faux pas I could make," she muttered.

"Ah, well. I wouldn't let anyone cut you; I've already seen you at your worst and it is frankly somewhat mild," he said.

"I think I'm almost more insulted about being considered mediocre than I am that you won't let it go," she replied.

"We all need time to recover our wounds," he said gravely. "Another few years, perhaps, and I will begin to consider healing."

"Man, I didn't know calling you Mr. Ricotta would devastate you so completely."

He closed the notebook with a snap, smiling.

"And I must somehow go on, and fetch my groceries," he said.

[shiftintochange]

The Impact of Women in Motorsports: Breaking Barriers and Inspiring Generations

Women have always been around in the world of motorsports. From Maria Teresa de Filippis, the first woman to race in Formula 1, to Sara Christian, the first woman to race in NASCAR, these women have undoubtedly left a mark on the world of motorsports. As a female who is deeply enticed by motorsports, seeing these powerful women of the past has inspired me beyond belief to follow my dreams in this world.

Although filled with powerful women, I fear the impact of women in motorsports is bigger than any man will ever admit. Maria Teresa de Filippis would have been the first woman to score points in a Formula 1 race if she didn't have reliability issues with her car for her last two races. Maria Teresa was unable to race in that season's French Grand Prix. When confronted about this in an interview, she stated she was told that “The only helmet a woman should wear is one at the hairdressers” by the race director.

And though we might think, ‘Okay, well that was years ago, people thought differently,’ right? WRONG! Unfortunately, we have men in the Formula 1 industry right now who still believe women should not be in motorsports and wouldn’t like the sport if not for the good-looking drivers. This is a quote from Christian Horner, the current team principal for Red Bull: “It's bringing in a lot of young girls because all these great looking drivers.”

Why can we not like F1 and still admire the drivers? It is obviously not a secret that the drivers are good-looking; male fans say it all the time. Yet when a woman declares her love for a driver, the assumption that she only enjoys the sport because the driver is good-looking and not because of its thrilling nature is automatic. There is absolutely no excuse for not wanting women in motorsports other than internalized misogyny and a huge double standard. When men watch women's football, it is just because they enjoy the sport, not because they enjoy seeing attractive women run around in shorts. But when a woman watches men's football, it is solely because they find all the players attractive.

Young women have proved themselves so worthy of being in Formula 1, with Susie Wolff as the director of F1 Academy pushing for more female representation in Formula 1. Women like Maria Teresa de Filippis and Sara Christian paved the way for future generations, demonstrating that talent and passion know no gender. It's time for the motorsports community to fully acknowledge and celebrate the vital role women play, both on and off the track.

(writing one about the men that do support women in f1 soon!! WOO also ignore tags again hahaha)

[thezombieprostitute]

Cops and Robbers

A/N: This is entirely unlike anything I've written before. This is written for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar. I'm using the following prompts:

🍧Black Cherry: enemies to lovers – a dark flavour has a sweet tang. So your characters go from one extreme to the other, hate to love.  🍧Rocky Road: rags to riches – it's been a long road. Cinderella, a lottery winner, a sudden inheritance. You decide how your character gets their windfall.  🍧French Vanilla: stranded/locked in - vanilla, but make it fancy. Forced proximity to the max. Whether your characters have to work together to escape or survive, or just need to wait out the night, they’re stuck together.  🥄Toasted Almonds: heartbreak – your character is going through a heartbreak 

Word Count: ~3k (I think this is the longest one-shot I've ever written!)

A/N2: Character is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Corruption, Implied murder, Mild violence, Talk of sex trafficking, Theft. Please let me know if I missed any!

You know you shouldn't be here. You're a wanted woman in this county. Wanted by law enforcement and the people who buy law enforcement. It's dangerous to be here. But you can't bring yourself to stay away. Your great-aunt Mabel was the only person who ever loved and supported you. Attending her funeral is the least you can do for her. Even if you're watching from afar, sticking to the tree line, well away from the grave-site.

Everything was paid for by you. Again, it was the least you could do. But you couldn't trust the funeral home to not let the authorities know it was you. If you're lucky, they'll think you gave them the money and ran. But luck is not reliable so you're staying amongst the trees, finally letting yourself cry at the loss.

That's how you missed the Sheriff sneaking up on you. That and his surprisingly light steps. For a man his size, he sure as hell knew how to watch his steps.

He places a hand on your shoulder, startling you. “Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to come with me.”

“Is this official or off the books?” If he was doing this for the criminals he'd been bought by, you'd risk running off or getting shot. But official capacity work meant some legal protections.

“I'm arrestin' you under suspicion of robbery at the Governor's Mansion.” His hand squeezes your shoulder, a warning not to run. His tone was level, professional even. You nod your head and let him cuff you before getting to his car.

Inside the police station Lee walks you to a holding cell. Your existence has been a thorn in his side for years and he'd love nothing more than to lock you in jail and throw away the key. But you're also good press, which the local police need. That means he has to make sure you're not too roughed up. So if he has to play the gentleman for a while, he will.

At least when you were just stealing from Dunlap's crew he could tell them to fuck off. He's done a lot of bad things for them but hunting down someone who, in the public eye, had done nothing else wrong? It would look too suspicious, no matter how much they paid him.

Then you hit the Governor's place. Must've been one hell of a payday given the quality loot you picked up. That got him heat not just from Dunlap but from the damn Governor as well. You caused a lot of late nights, paperwork and black eyes.

He orders the closest deputy to get you processed then put you in the updated interrogation room. It had all the latest recording gadgetry and whatnot so it would reduce the likelihood of your testimony being dismissed because of some clerical error.

Getting to his desk he sits down and dials the Governor. He's not surprised when he gets the assistant instead. “Do me a favor, Darlin' and let Ol' Jim there know we got the thief. Just gotta get her processed and then I'll be gettin' a confession.”

When he finishes with that he dials up Dunlap. “I got the thief, but you an' yours gotta keep away until she's in lock up. Anything goes wrong with this and you're out a sheriff. Be patient and you'll get her but I gotta do a bunch o' shit by the book right now.” Lee hangs up before Dunlap can respond.

You're sitting in the cold, sterile interrogation room, handcuffed to the table. You're barely able to recognize yourself in the two-way mirror because of how puffy your eyes got from crying. The deputy assigned to process you tried to comfort you, thinking you were crying out of fear. You didn't bother to correct him. You're glad Aunt Mabel never saw you in custody.

The door opens and Bodecker walks in with a small stack of files. He sits across from you, leaning back, eye you up. You glance back at the door and he tells you, “ain't no use lookin' for a way out, darlin'. That door is locked from the outside. Only one of my men can let you outta here.” You nod your understanding.

“So, you gonna make this easy for me and go ahead and confess to the robbery of Governor James Williams?” You remain silent, fidgeting with your cuffs. “Figured as much,” he gripes as he opens one of the files. “We got your fingerprints on the doorknob. We got testimony that you were in the area. And you're the only one with the skills to break into that safe.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Sheriff,” you reply. “What are these skills you think I have and what makes you think I have them?”

He gives you a glare, “we got reliable witnesses that say you're damn good with a lockpick.” Left unspoken is that those witnesses are Dunlap's crew. That you stole from them what they had stolen from others. That they couldn't report anything missing or stolen because then suspicion would be on them.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Sheriff.” You're no fool. You know you're being recorded. You know their admissible evidence is circumstantial at best. Just keep calm. Keep denying.

“Alright,” Lee sighs as he stands, gathering up his files. “I'll just let you sit in here for a while longer and think these things through.” He walks over to the door and knocks twice. When it doesn't open right away, Lee turns towards the door and bangs on it a couple of times, not happy to me made to look like a fool. The peephole slides open and Lee is taken aback at the sight of Dunlap himself.

“Well ifn' it ain't the thief and the traitor,” Dunlap chuckles darkly. “And both trapped in here like the rats ya are. See, Bodecker, we've gone and sent all your boys home. Ain't nobody here what can open this door. We're gonna leave the two of you in here overnight and, come morning, one of you'll be dead. The other will have been recorded per the camera watchin' y'all and we'll be making copies to keep safe. So long as the survivor behaves.”

You quickly glance to Lee's belt and notice he isn't wearing his holster. No gun, you might have a chance.

“You sunnova bitch,” Bodecker bangs the door, hurting his fist. Dunlap laughs before closing the slider.

Lee sits back down, slamming the files down. “Shoulda known you'd get me in trouble like this. You ain't been nothin' but trouble since you started hittin' their properties.”

“I'm surprised you're not already choking me to death,” you reply coldly. “You've been in their pocket for so long, I figured there was nothing you wouldn't do for them.”

“I have my limits, little missy,” he retorts.

“Yeah, limits that keep you looking good to the public.”

“Limits that help good people keep doing good things,” he argues. “Your Aunt Mabel was one of them good people.”

“Don't you talk about her!” Your outburst is just as surprising to you as it is to him.

Lee sees his advantage and presses, “do you know how many times I had to keep them Dunlap boys from takin' her hostage so they could get to you? Your great-aunt was a pillar in this community. The kind o' person who's disappearance would get everyone up in arms, and they still wanted to use her as bait to get you to stop stealin' from them. I was the only reason they didn't.”

You try not to cry in front of him. You're horrified at the thought that you put Aunt Mabel in danger. “I have no reason to believe you,” you snap at him. “You lie through your teeth all the time for them. Why wouldn't you do so now?”

“Because, as I said before, I got my limits.” He stands and puts his hands on the table, leaning right into your face. “And you're pushing all of 'em right now!”

You smack him so hard he has to sit back down. He'd been so distracted with being angry he hadn't noticed you'd picked your handcuffs with an earring you'd palmed during processing. You toss the handcuffs at him, “I've got my limits, too. I don't kill. Now let's see about finding another way out of here.”

“Good luck with that,” Lee seethes. “That two-way glass can't be broken by the chairs and the table is sealed to the floor. Safety precautions and all that.” You're out of your cuffs so he needs to be even more on guard.

“Such a defeatist attitude,” you chide.

“I'm bein' realistic here,” he counters. “That door can only be opened from outside. It's got electric seals or whatever. There ain't any way to break that mirror. And those are the only two ways outta here!”

“Oh just shut up a minute and let me think,” you yell at him.

The two of you glare at each other for a while before he takes a deep breath and throws his hands up. “Fine. We'll call it a truce until we're truly desperate.”

“Thanks.”

You stand up, rubbing your wrists, and start pacing your side of the small room. You never turn away from Lee, never let him fully out your sight. He might look like he's in a relaxed position but you're not one to underestimate him.

“I'm guessing we're not worried about spilling the beans,” you huff. “Otherwise you never would've admitted half the shit you just did while being recorded.”

“Dunlap's gonna keep the tapes. Ain't nothin' we can say that'll get us in more trouble than we're in already.”

“Do you want to know why I stole from everyone that I did?”

“Meh,” he shrugs. “Might help pass the time until we really snap.”

“I was stealing back the ID's and personal belongings from the girls they were trying to traffic.”

Lee freezes for a moment before looking at you, “what do you mean? They ain't doin' any human trafficking.”

“Oh like you didn't know,” you scoff. “You've been to Leon's Red Motel more than once.”

“Never allowed back there,” he shakes his head. “Only ever allowed to drink at the bar. Said they couldn't have the sheriff seen enterin' a whorehouse.”

“Bullshit, Bodecker. You knew it was whorehouse but you didn't think to ask how they got the girls to work there?”

“They told me it was just girls that was down on their luck, needed the money,” he says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, they were down on their luck because they'd been kidnapped. Their identities got stolen and used for fake ID's to sell to rich kids. Helping them escape was...easy enough. But they needed help getting home. They needed money and ID. So I stole from the people who stole everything from them.”

“Then why'd you hit the Governor's place? That's the part that never made no sense to me.”

“I'm genuinely surprised he called that in.” You stop your pacing and look at Lee. “That safe I hit was full of his own bribes from Dunlap and others like him. The cash he kept off the books and used when he didn't want to get audited. Largest payday I ever made.” Your tone softens, “got to help a lot of people and sent Aunt Mabel a check every month.”

“She said you'd promised to send her money from the new job you told her you got.”

“She didn't need to know it's source. Just needed the cash to know I was alive and doing well.”

“Funeral director said you'd paid everything in cash.”

“More difficult to trace, of course. Not too surprised he turned me in. He tried to overcharge for everything and I called him out on it.”

Lee chuckled at that, “he shoulda known better than to try that with a bitch like you.”

“Damn right,” you say with a half smile. “Aunt Mabel didn't raise me to get walked all over, no matter how distracted I am.” A tear runs down your cheek and you're unable to wipe it away before Lee sees.

“She was a good woman,” Lee nods.

Silence falls over the two of you. You're unsure of how much time has passed but the angry tension between you and Bodecker seems to have calmed a smidge.

“I'm gonna go ahead and examine this door, then the mirror,” you tell him. “Can I trust you not to attack me while I'm doing so?”

“I fully support you findin' a way outta here where neither of us has to die,” Lee informs you. “So I'll happily keep from attackin' you. I'll even let you cuff me to the table if'n you need, provided you promise to pick the lock for 'em to get me out again.”

You nod, “I'll consider it. For now, door.”

Lee nods and, as a sign of his intentions to not attack, moves himself so he's on the opposite side of the room as you.

You look the door over for almost an hour. You turn back to Lee, “what all do you have in your pockets? I've got an idea, but I need to know what I've got to work with.”

“Not much,” Lee admits. He pulls out a couple of pens, his wallet and badge.

“More than what I've got.” You look over everything and the plan starts forming. “You said that the door is electrically sealed, right?”

“Sumthin' like that. Never really learned the actual details,” he confesses.

“The fun thing about doors like this, they ain't as strong as they look. It's a heavy door, made from good material, but it's got weak spots.” You grab the unlocked cuffs and, between them and one of Bodecker's credit cards, you're able to work out some of the screws around the sliding peephole. You use some leverage with the handcuffs and are able open a small gap to the inner workings of the door itself. Not much, but it's a start.

“Holy shit,” you hear Lee mutter.

“Would you be willing to try to pry this open a bit more? Pretty sure you've got the stronger arms here.” You move out of Lee's way as he gets to work with the handcuffs.

Your theory proves true as he has a much easier time prying away a bit at a time. The material is still strong stuff, but with more of the door's interior exposed, the more you can mess with. The more you can mess with, the weaker you can make the whole thing.

“I gotta ask,” Lee grunts as he works at more of the seams. “How d'you know your meddling won't result in the whole thing locking up even worse? Like so that even with the code or whatever it can't open?”

“I don't,” you confess. “But it's not like we've got much choice if we want to stay alive.” He nods in agreement.

When there's finally room for you to work you grab one of the pens from the table. You work carefully to bring some wires out without dropping the pen. Several of them are bundled together and you get them just out of the door's interior, using the pen to keep them from falling back in.

“Now, the odds of this being the bundle we need aren't great,” you tell him.

“But it's what we've got to work with,” he finishes for you. “You want the pin side of my badge to try piercing or cuttin' 'em or do you wanna just try pulling them out?”

“Never thought you were one for pulling out, Sheriff,” you joke. His cheeks turn pink and you're quick to apologize. “I'm nervous so I'm making bad jokes. Sorry.”

He nods in understanding. “How about I just go ahead and pull?”

You step out of his way, hand never leaving the pen so the wires don't drop back in. Lee nimbly grabs the wires with a couple of fingers, all that he can get to fit around them in the small space, and yanks them with all his strength. He doesn't have a lot to work with but the more he pulls, the more give he's getting.

“Try angling your pull,” you tell him. “Pull away from the sides, not just straight up. I think we'll be able to unplug them.”

Lee nods and tries out your strategy. It takes some work but after a bit the two of you hear a small snap and bundle of wires, including their plug, come out. At the same time, you both hear subtle click of the lock.

“That's progress,” you tell him.

“The door ain't openin',” Lee states.

“Not while the latch is still in place,” you concede. “But without that electric seal or whatever, we can bash a chair against where the handle is and break off the latch.”

“And by 'we' you mean 'me' I'm guessin'?”

“Well, you are the big strong Sheriff, right?”

You smile as he huffs, “I'll get to work.”

It takes a while, and several breaks, but eventually the two of you do break the latch and get the door opened. Considering no one yelled or inquired about the loud banging on the door, you both figured no one was around. You were still wary, though. Better safe than dead.

Lee leads you both to his office and he quickly grabs his keys before opening up the door next to the interrogation room. He grabs the camera and smashes the whole thing to pieces.

“No one's gonna get to hear what we talked about,” he mutters.

“So, now what happens? Are you going just going to let a wanted criminal go?”

Lee sighs, “whether you leave or stay, I ain't got much of a life here anymore. Between Dunlap's gang and knowing the Gov is in on it all? I'm a dead man if I don't leave the state.”

“Well, Bodecker, I guess it's a good thing I've got experience helping people escape bad situations.”

“I know we didn't start off on the best foot,” Lee rubs the back of his head nervously, “but I would appreciate the help.”

“Least I can do for your protecting Aunt Mabel. Now let's get the hell outta here.”

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @fluxxdog; @ronearoundblindly

[velvetures]

May I RQ a reader who is trying to learn their language to help them feel more comfortable, but feels insecure due to them not really being fluent? They mispronounce and misuse the slangs in context, but hopes they can make the boys see the effort they are trying to go through for them.

Lessons In Miscommunication

A/N: Hi doll, I hope you don't mind me using König for this one. I've got a lot of experience with Spanish irl, but that's not super applicable here, haha. To anyone who's German... please forgive me. 🤍 Summary: You're on comms during a mission getting a small lesson in König's language while waiting for your next orders from HQ. Things get complicated, and there's a language and culture barrier that makes things... challenging. T/W: canonical warfare, cursing, non-fluent use of German, flirting, feelings, and some other stuff probably. Not proofread, as always.

To put it simply, you didn't expect just how difficult it would be to learn a new language in your twenties. Sure the science spoke to the provable trouble you would have compared to a much younger version of yourself, but for all meaningful purposes, you really didn't think it would be this nuanced. And while Spanish, French, and other languages were of great importance, there wasn't anyone who could teach you those. The one person around was König, and he spoke German.

When you'd approached the topic nearly eight months ago, he'd been honestly shocked and surprised that you'd come to him in the first place and secondly that you thought he would be a good teacher. He was often thought of as reliable as a Colonel, but giving you suitable enough tutoring in German to be conversational was nothing short of uncharted territory for the pair of you. This made for very interesting moments in and outside of missions as well as a few times where it would've been better if you'd used an online app or something to keep from unintentionally embarrassing yourself.

Posted almost two miles away from the Colonel on a rocky outcropping overlooking a small encampment of a radical terrorist group, you laid on the hillside with a rifle and radio trying to pass the time between now and when you'd get the call to secure the site. The men and women down below were only one small stop-off point for a far larger caravan of armored trucks and a few tanks carrying supplies and weaponry toward the closest city of Almazra. It was a threat that couldn't come to fruition if the buildings and people still living there were to be left standing by the end of the week.

On the other end of the two-mile distance was König and a selected squad of men who were waiting just as impatiently as you were to not only get this mission over with but to get out of the damn desert heat. For security's sake, you knew you should be keeping the airways clear for any kind of information about the insurgent's movements, but König had insisted that this would be a perfect opportunity for you to get some practice in without losing focus of the task at hand. Your job at the moment was to keep eyes on the encampment through the lens of your sniper rifle and report anything that looked to be of importance.

König's definition of what was important could be easily debatable, yet it did ensure that you could make simple connections between real-world objects and the German words or phrases that matched. Whether or not the Colonel realized it or not, both of you had slightly gotten off the target of what you were supposed to be talking about and wandered into the more... personal aspects of things. Specifically just how bad you wanted to be home after nearly a full month away from American soil and your personal home.

"Ich habe für immer Fernweh," Your accent was certainly progressing, at least in the Colonel's mind, but he wasn't quite sure exactly what you meant by that.

"Was meinst du damit? Kannst du es dieses Mal auf Englisch sagen?"

His voice sounded a little confused and more than a tinge humored at the way you'd sounded so... formal. Even diplomatic to a degree. It was one of the more difficult parts of teaching you. Dialects, slang, and even simple English-to-German translations didn't always have a very direct or clear answer. Often it meant that you would say something with full intention and innocent honesty, and König would have to keep himself from chuckling. Most of the men he worked alongside didn't speak for one reason or another, so getting to hear at least one person -especially you- made the near and far miscommunication more than worth the effort.

Looking through your scope at a group of five sitting around a small fire, you sigh a bit, trying to think of how to explain yourself.

"I meant I'm feeling homesick," You mutter a little more quietly than necessary, almost as if saying it in English was broadcasting your secret while German somehow kept it from being found out. "What did you hear me say?"

König chuckled, his laugh vibrating in the speakers of your comm quite nicely. "You said you have wanderlust forever," You could hear him smiling from the other end. "It's okay, sometimes the words don't always mean exactly what you think they do. I had the same problem when I learned English." For a moment he paused, laughing softly again. "I still can't say Squirrel... properly."

"Vielleicht habe ich doch Lust auf etwas..." You mutter a bit frustrated and somewhat skarkily under your breath, making a small jab at wordplay not thinking that König could hear you over the radio or that he'd be more shocked to hear you say such a thing.

The radio stays silent for a long few minutes, almost tricking you into believing that you'd been safe in making your comment under your breath without any audible witnesses. Only on the other end, the Colonel was struggling between the actual meaning behind your words, the way it sounded so damn sexy... and how he was supposed to actually answer you without sounding too affected by something as simple as your voice.

"Se-Sergeant..." His voice sounded a little weak, much in the same way it did when he was in an uncomfortable social situation. "What did you just say?"

Instantly your body tensed up from fingers to toes and you felt a shock of heat roll through you. König heard you. Right away you assumed by the growl in his question that you were going to be in for some kind of punishment. Maybe even a good ass-chewing in front of the rest of the squad for saying something so easily considered lewd and totally unprofessional to utter in the presence of a superior officer. Your best bet was apologizing, and hoping he'd just let it go...

"I'm sorry, I was just frustrated and-"

His voice deepens over the radio, almost like he's got it pressed right up against his mouth. "Say it again." The command felt heavy in your stomach. "Now."

You repeated the phrase, staring through the lens of your scope with bated breath. waiting to hear what the Colonel would say in response. And the last thing you expected was to hear an almost pained sort of growling sound vibrating in your ears. It made you shiver and despite König being almost two miles away, it felt like he was breathing down your neck.

"Du klingst so hübsch, wenn du das sagst..." A noticeable static over the radio took your attention, but when it didn't get worse you had the mental capacity to translate what König said word by word until you had the full sentence running through your head.

The time between his praise and your response was nearly indistinguishable between seconds and years. Had it not been for you watching your targets moving in real-time through your scope, you would've thought the whole world had come to a stuttering halt in anticipation of your response. Yet it seemed that the world still had to do other important things which included bringing the key turning point of this mission right to your front door with the sudden sound of an approaching squad tailing the convoy of insurgents giving information and callouts for how to proceed forward. Of those, orders for König and his men to begin working down the side of the mountain to intercept the meeting of the convoy and the small ground sitting in tents around a high-burning fire.

"Ich werde später herausfinden, wie hübsch man klingen kann, wenn man schmutzige Dinge auf Deutsch sagt." The Colonel's voice growled lowly, almost threatening in a sense.

There was no telling what would happen after the mission ended and there wasn't a threat of being shot or failing to secure Almazra. What you could count on was König finding you and testing out his theory of all the things you could say in his language they may or may not have been provocative - on purpose or not. Something in your body shivered in delightful nervousness and anticipation of just how he planned on getting that kind of information out of you. A couple of ideas swirled in your mind, but the movement of the incoming convoy didn't allow you the luxury of daydreaming about your Colonel or how your mistaken words and German lessons had landed you here.

Comments and Reblogs are Always Helpful <3

[jomiddlemarch]

Each be other’s comfort kind

In some ways, Jem found being married to Mary née Vance was the easiest thing in the world.

To begin with, if he ever referred to her as Mary née Vance, she cuffed him lightly on the shoulder before she rolled her eyes and then drew him back down for a kiss. 

He’d learned the only place to refer to her as Mary née Vance was their bed.

Which he must refer to simply as their bed, not their marriage-bed or anything of a similar high-falutin’ tone which she would accept from his mother and tolerate from Rilla and would otherwise laugh at almost merrily.

As someone not much given to flights of fancy well before the War had made him watch his friends and fellow soldiers gassed and killed, his brother gone without the chance of a farewell, his mind and body scarred in ways he knew as a physician would never fully heal, he found Mary’s unmitigated pragmatism as refreshing as water in the desert.

It also put his father at ease, as Dad said Mary reminded him not a little of his own mother, though Mary was notably less concerned with the vast quantity of pie the Doctors Blythe could consume of an evening, and her piecrust was arguably the equal of Susan Baker’s, though they’d all agreed not to utter such heresy at Ingleside.

In the privacy of their non-marriage, most ordinary bed, with its soft white linens and goose-feather pillows, Jem was free to tell Mary her pastry was actually better than Susan’s, as she had a lighter hand and her piecrust never once reflected any sense of consternation or outrage over some doings in Glen St. Mary, which could not be said of Susan’s best tarts.

Mary was practical and matter of fact. She had a good head for accounts and was far more intelligent that he, any of the Blythes or Merediths (with the exception of Carl) had ever given her credit for. It was easy to discuss the running of his practice and the economic advantages posed by a move to one of the larger towns, the intellectual stimulation offered by hospital work.

Mary did not worry about leaving Mrs. Marshall Elliott behind and she did listen when Jem spoke of his mother’s broken heart with oblique allusions to Walter’s death and more direct remarks about Shirley’s move to Montreal. Even more, she was willing to allow his mother precedence in ways Faith Meredith would never have countenanced. 

(Who knew what Faith would truly have countenanced? She’d eloped with Bertie Shakespeare Drew shortly after their mutual return from England and had immediately bobbed the golden-brown hair Walter had once referred to as her crowning glory in a sonnet Jem was never meant to see.)

Mary was patient and funny, an impossibly good mimic. She had a seemingly infinite supply of riddles and could curse a blue streak with the fishermen down in the harbor, who respected Young Doctor Blythe all the more for his sharp-tongued wife.

She complained very little, never as much as she ought about what mattered most, and only to the degree she would amuse him about things that didn’t matter at all. 

She was never troubled by his nightmares, by being woken by Jem clutching her tightly, his tears falling onto her neck, salt on his lips when he kissed her.

Mary liked to be read to of an evening, but not poetry. She liked Dickens, which didn’t surprise him, and Eliot, which did. She liked mysteries the best, pulp, which made him chuckle, and Lupin instead of Holmes, but she didn’t press him on nights when anything French was the door opened to memories he couldn’t bear.

She was warm, save for her cold feet. She’d tuck them against his shins and it wasn’t like anything else in the whole world.

She was reliable, steady, quick to take his side. Quick to see his side, even before he did. 

She was pretty and she didn’t count it worth much, without any of the vanity of any of the Blythe women.

She was eminently, exceptionally lovable—except that she was difficult to love.

She shrugged off praise.

She didn’t care for ornaments or nosegays, perfume or sweets or what Rilla called a stunning new cloche just the exact color of blackberry fool. 

She looked after him and their home so well, there was little left for him to do.

He was at a loss, one she was aware of and found entertaining, when Rilla remarked one day how much Rosemary Meredith’s new cat reminded her of Mary.

Then he knew.

Mary liked to have a cup of tea made just so, with plenty of milk.

She liked to end the day sitting with her stocking feet tucked up under her.

She liked to have her hair stroked, even if his hand trembled, which stopped much sooner when he was paying all his attention to the silkiness of her fair hair and the delicate skin at her temple, her throat.

She liked to sleep early on cold winter nights.

And sometimes, when they were together in the shadows, she liked to be called Puss. She liked it exceedingly well.

[cubitodragon-moved]

So Aypierre’s community created a brand new closed captions mod for use on Twitch, and it has multiple languages set up. Bad was trying it out last night and it looked REALLY good. It’s set for French, English, Spanish, Portuguese and German, and doesn’t require bits to run. (It does cost money for the streamer, but something like 50p per language for 1hr, Bad said. Not unreasonable.) I couldn’t watch his stream very long last night, but if anyone who did could weigh in with what they thought of it?

Honestly, I hope it’s going to update and get stronger, and that the other CCs on the server adopt it too. Especially if it’s more stable and reliable than the other one. (Not hard, lbr.)