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#maybe it's a romanian thing
sapphixxx · 2 months
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Signalis, Authority, and History
There's a level of nuance to how Signalis presents the violence of the authority of the nation that doesn't call attention to itself but which I really appreciate. Which is basically just, all the officers and cops and spies who make life hell for people like the Gestalt mine workers, Ariane, and the Itou family--we get little glimpses into who they are in Adler and Kolibri's diaries and despite the propaganda and the authoritative tone they take in official communications, for the most part they don't seem to actually be particularly invested in the hard line of national ideology. They uphold it though, viciously, both because things were worse under imperial rule (we don't get hard details on what it was like but it's mentioned in passing enough that I believe it) and because they're scared that if they don't they will be decommissioned and easily replaced. They are literally stamped out of a production line after all. There's a subtext of well, if I don't do it my replacement will anyway and I'm not trying to die so what's the point of rocking the boat?
I think Kolibri stands out to me most clearly on this because in communications from the block warden regarding Ariane there is emphasis put on how it is unacceptable and suspicious that she should be so interested and invested in art and literature that does not serve the purpose of furthering the goals of the nation. But we know that Kolibris themselves are bookworms, Adlers are fiends for stimulating experiences, and both get miserable FAST when deprived of art and puzzles and entertainment and hobbies. Y'know, just like anyone. Far be it from being a paragon of The Nation only interested in productive labor, we are reminded that the block warden, too, hates this shitty town and wants to transfer but is denied. They're hypocrites, but not monsters, nor brainwashed puppets of the state.
The monstrousness at play is not contained within any particular subset of evil individuals, or even an inherent universal force of evil contained in the broad notion of The Nation. There is no cosmic evil force that makes them all do these things to each other. The monstrousness is within the social systems, the mechanisms of how authority perpetuates on a structural procedural level, held in place by fear and tangible threats of violence, each link in the chain restraining the next through those threats out of fear that if they don't, then they'll be next. Regardless how many, if any, of those people in this chain are true dogmatic hardliners, they must act as such because failing to do so opens them up to danger.
Here then I think of the quote that is so prominent, "Great holes secretly are digged where earth’s pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl", from Lovecraft's The Festival. This is not just a chilling abstract visual that conveniently evokes a mineshaft-- in Lovecraft's story, this line refers to worms which ate the decomposing bodies of wizards whose wretched souls had remained after death, complete with the terrible powers they gained through contracts with demons. Those worms inherited both their power, and also the evil. The Nation, despite having overthrown the Empire, is built on imperial technology, in particular Replikas and bioresonance. So too, then, we can imply that The Nation inherited with those things some of the monstrousness of The Empire as well. There is no end of history, nor clean break with the past, no matter how violently it may seem to be rejected. That which remains from the past--and something inevitably always does--creates the present.
This is a game that is not shy about evoking East Germany. And I think all of this provides a sophisticated picture of repressive authority that we rarely see in fiction of the English speaking world, especially in games. The year the S23 incident takes place is notably 84, but, frankly, I find this to be more compelling and illustrative than 1984 (and I'm a librarian and have taught English classes so I get to say that). Orwell, let's be honest, presents a fairly one dimensional picture of authority, where people seize power and wield it against others out of seeming mustache twirling evil or malice.
Here though we get a more humanistic view. Authority did not come from nowhere and is not wielded arbitrarily out of gleeful cruelty or mindless brainwashed allegiance. People aren't "just following orders". Individuals have rich inner lives. They make decisions, and those decisions are based in the context they're in. Even the decision to carry repressive tools of the past into the present is a decision that was made strategically with the big picture in mind. Nobody woke up and decided to be evil that day. Everyone operates on self interest, and, we must assume, an earnest desire for things to get better. Even the [spoiler] program which served as an inspirational demonstration of The Nation's power, you can imagine the chain of officers and bureaucrats who genuinely wanted the people of the nation to believe in the future, to confidently trust that everyone was working together towards something great and beautiful. And, through a long chain of those people who couldn't say "No" without being decommissioned, we ended up with something unbelievably cruel.
We get to know Adler and Kolibri and the other officers not to say well they're human too, maybe it wasn't so bad that they condemned all those people to agonizing suffering, but to remember that if we keep looking for true monsters we will not find them. There are no monsters and there are no demons. There are only people making decisions. A better world is possible. A better world, where Adler is just a paper pusher who does puzzles after work instead of signing papers to authorize torture, where Kolibris are librarians instead of spies and cops, where EULEs can gossip and play piano and ARARs can do maintenance on facilities that don't contain torture rooms, is one that would not have led to the Ariane and Elster's tragic cycle and ultimate end.
Authority and its attendant cruelty is not contained, radiating forth from The Great Revolutionary and Her Daughter, it is within the social systems of control. When those two women die, that cruelty will continue so long as those social systems continue. Like Lovecraft's worms, no matter how long dead the evil of the past is, so long as it continues to be fed upon, that evil will not only remain, but evolve into something new in the present. A better world can't be achieved through the death of the old world alone, even if violent overthrow is warranted. There is no end of history. There is no clean break from the past.
"Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past. The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living."
Karl Marx, The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte
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poppy5991 · 5 days
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In the year of trying new things, and I’ve done my first Lyra class. Super fun! But I know I’m gonna be so weirdly bruised tomorrow lol 🦥
Seeing a ballet with a friend tomorrow, but I’m signed up for a pottery class next weekend so we will see how that goes 👀🏺
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maudlin-scribbler · 3 months
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yup. I cannot write at the moment i guess. (Maybe it's not that bad but I'm being dramatic at the moment)
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wikipedie · 10 months
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okay i want to attempt to get into the habit of writing more stories, to get a writing portofolio or something so that i won't be so sad anymore that i don't have anything to show whenever some writing project sparks my interest, but i cannot find any place where i could do so
i tried wordpress but that site is broken as fuck. literally slows firefox down and it crashes like every 5 minutes. i used to have an account on medium but it signs me out now whenever i try to sign in and i don't know if it's worth making another account or not. i genuinely don't know what to do
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frodig-skog · 7 months
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I am in the mood to share knowledge, does anyone wanna hear interesting facts from random Wikipedia articles?
I could truly look thru these all day
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Not to moan and bitch on main
But
Why are people so goddamn weird about volunteer work
Besides the unfortunately stupid question of "And do you get paid???" I've been asked one too many times,
I've had someone close to me that I offered to come volunteering too, ask if she gets a T-shirt or something out of it
And that is without to mention the dozens of uncountable people who only consider it for the shiny little diploma they get out of it which they can plaster on foreign college portfolios or work CVs. And. That LOWERS the number of places they can volunteer at WAY down. And THEN! They still dare complain they cannot volunteer at X place "Because I'll have to work with autistic kids" (<thing I actually heard)
I just. Why Can't We Be Nice Because Being Nice Is Nice
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sisididis · 11 months
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And we found this catalogue of the Splendid World of Needle Art Exhibition held in 1999 in honour of the Romanian Year in Japan (which I had no idea about!) at the Museum’s Gift Shop. 
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idontdrinkgatorade · 5 months
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what if i wrote my college application essay about the trauma of my mom treating my romanian heritage as if it's freakish
#idk smth smth about my mom comparing cultural practices to the occult and saying their cuisine is disgusting#and saying my baptism wasn't real bc it was done in an orthodox church and making me get a “good” and “correct” evangelical baptism#and also the way my mom estranges me from knowing about my biological mother#literally has to try and justify the negative things she says by saying “i don't hate her. she was just weird”#jesus fucking christ#and also the way my mom made sure i got adopted because she didn't want my ROMANIAN FAMILY TO TRY AND CONTACT ME#because she was paranoid that they would try to take me away from her. like she was forever predestined to be my mother or smth#telling me that even though she didn't give birth to me she always knew that she was my true mother. and not my actual (romanian) mother#i told her i had a SINGLE memory of romania and asked if i'd visited a second time during early childhood#and she told me for the first time (mind you that i had lived with her for THIRTEEN YEARS) that i had lived in romania for six months#FOR HALF A FUCKING YEAR#AND SHE NEVER TOLD ME#and then later she was like 'why did you want to know that. are you contacting your grandmother in romania'#GIRL WHAT THE FUCK NO#MAYBE I JUST WANT TO ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT MYSELF#and she never told me the whole fucking truth abt my bio mother either#i had to figure it out myself at a CHURCH CAMP when i was FIFTEEN#and it was confirmed not by her but by my FRIEND who knew before I DID because HER MOM mentioned it at FUCKING DINNER ONE DAY
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i wish i could take like a year or two off work and just earn languages full time. I just watched a video where a guy spoke arabic and I really wanna pick it up again (I took a class in uni but dropped out after barely learning to write so RIP to that but I loved it). I also would love to properly learn either spanish or portuguese.
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hydrostorm · 2 years
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i still feel slight disappointment that theres hardly any balkan cultural influence in castlevania but whaddayagonnado
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shatteredfears-arch · 2 years
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the book club im hosting has a book full of my aesthetic: witches, ice vs fire, enemies to lovers
AND THE LEAD HEROINE ONLY SPEAKS VIA SIGN LANGUAGE
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crvvys · 2 years
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may need to just pick up on Spanish and Italian like I was doing bc I can hear and understand JUST enough when translations are wrong on shows. My Brilliant Friend definitely has some choice translation choices that I wholly disagree with just bc the English translation sucks the intimacy out of it and I’m aware English isn’t the most intimate language but my god…
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cinebration · 7 months
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Too Slow For Me (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader) [One-shot]
Premise: Of all the bars in all the world, Jake had to walk into yours.
Tagged: @abaker74, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @the-romanian-is-bae, @b-bradshaw, @alldaysdreamers, @bat-luna-cat, @solo2leo, @lucy-sky
Warnings: none
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Gif Source: topgundaily
When you were hired to work as a bartender for Penny Benjamin at her bar, you thought nothing of it. The Jake Seresin you knew, while an up-and-coming hotshot flyboy, would never make it to TOPGUN, not with his mouth and his inability to play well with others. Working in the bar would be safe, you were sure of it.
Until a year later when Jake walked through the door.
A shock of surprise blasted through you when you recognized his face across the room, heard the familiar sound of his voice. Like suddenly being doused in cold water, you shivered and felt your heartrate skyrocket.
There was nowhere to hide. As the only bartender on duty, you were obligated to stay behind the bar. You couldn’t run even as Jake crossed the room and headed directly to you.
Trying to quell the mounting panic in your chest, your skin suddenly unbearably itchy as sweat broke out beneath your armpits, you forced yourself to stay calm.
He stopped at the bar and leaned his forearms against it. “Two beers.”
He flashed a pearly white smile.
You felt as though you’d been punched in the stomach. Nodding jerkily, you faced away from him to find two beers and pop off their tops, your face burning.
He didn’t remember you.
You handed him the beers and wordlessly took the money he slapped down onto the countertop, everything within you screaming as you fought back the hot tears pushing insistently at the back of your eyes.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, winking. “What’s your name?”
You quietly gave it to him. A faint crease rumpled his smooth brow.
“Don’t I—”
“Can I get two beers and a boilermaker?” another patron asked, raising their voice over Jake’s.
“Sure thing,” you answered with false cheer, scurrying away with relief to fetch the man’s drinks.
As Jake walked away to join his buddies, he glanced back over his shoulder as though to catch your eye, but you studiously avoided his gaze. Bitterness and pain flooded you as you kicked yourself for being stupid enough to think that working in a bar that catered to Navy pilots wouldn’t make you cross paths with him again.
Maybe, you realized, you had wanted to this happen. Maybe you had wanted the chance…
~~
When you first met Jake, he was fresh out of flight school and hadn’t earned his call sign yet. You hadn’t recognized that his confidence was arrogance and his ego was outsized even for an Navy pilot. You couldn’t see past the charm, his grin, and the mischievous green eyes.
You never expected Jake to even look at you. He seemed to like girls faster than the jets he flew, and you were decidedly not one of them. As you once half-heartedly joked with your mother, you were invisible, particularly to anyone who looked even half as handsome as Jake.
So when he approached you one night, teeth gleaming and eyes glittering in the soft lighting of the bar, cozied up to you, and invited you out to dinner, you could hardly believe your luck. You pinched yourself more than once through the night, so surreal it all felt.
He took you to a middle-grade Italian restaurant that was better than getting pizza and beer but not very extravagant. You didn’t mind, preferring the food to the heavier, richer foods of high-end restaurants. The conversation was stimulating, Jake’s charisma out in full force and the banter crisp and light-hearted. You had never quite so clicked with anyone as you did with Jake that night.
As the evening wound to a close, you were excited to see him again. Before you could say as much, he leaned in toward your ear and whispered, “Why don’t we get out of here?”
Your heart plummeted. Swallowing thickly, you pulled away and muttered, “I’m not…I don’t think so.”
He frowned. “Why not? I thought we were getting along great.”
“We were—are. But…not on a first date.”
He stared at you, the glimmer in his eyes fading. Shaking his head, he exhaled heavily. “You’re too slow for me, sweetheart.”
And he left you standing there, cheeks burning and your stomach roiling.
You hadn’t eaten Italian since.
~~
The night crawled. You exerted all of your energy trying to avoid looking in Jake’s direction or focusing on his voice as he crowed with his friends over winning shots at the dartboard or the pool table. You served drinks and faked smiles at everyone else that came up to the counter.
When the evening waned into the early morning hours, all that remained were Jake and his friends. You could hear the individual tick of the second hand of the clock over their laughter and raised voices, itching for it to be two a.m. so you could kick them out.
“Last call,” you finally yelled with relief.
Jake immediately sauntered over. You wanted to kick your own teeth out.
“Last round of beers for us,” he said, leaning against the counter.
Nodding, you counted heads and proceeded to collect the beer bottles.
“Don’t I know you?”
You froze, your heart thumping painfully in your chest. “No,” you answered. You popped open the first beer.
“Nah, I definitely know you”
You tried to pop off the caps faster, working furiously to hand them to him.
“Wait a minute…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing your face as you handed gave him the last of the beers.
“That’ll be thirty dollars.”
“You’re that girl. Italian dinner, no after party.”
Your cheeks burned. Ducking your head, you tapped the bar. “Thirty dollars.”
“Where’re the beers?” one of his friends called. “Hurry up, man!”
“How’ve you been?” Jake asked, frowning slightly as he dug around for his wallet.
“Why would you care?” you muttered, snatching the money from his hand. You scurried away from him to the opposite side of the room, hiding behind chores.
The group left before you had to kick them out at two. Relief made you slump into a chair with your head in your hands, your stomach slowly relaxing and releasing the knot it had been holding for hours. Somehow, Jake remembering you—or rather, how he had remembered you—was worse than him not recognizing you at first.
You took your time wiping down the tables and booths, stacking the chairs atop them so you could run a quick vacuum over the floor. The chores helped relax you, though bitter sadness lingered tartly in your mouth.
You locked up, debating how to tell Penny that you were quitting, and strode across the sand to the parking lot—where Jake and his friends had set up a stunt course with orange traffic cones, daring each other to do better as they screeched through the obstacle course. Cones went flying as each one clipped corners too hard or fumbled gear changes, the clutch grinding like a creature in the throws of pain.
You hesitated as you watched them, as you watched Jake laughing at his friends’ failures. Leaning against your car, you watched waited for his turn.
Climbing into the car, he revved the engine like he knew what he was doing and took off, burning rubber on the asphalt as he navigated the course. He clipped one cone, then two, before spinning out as a third snagged in the wheel-well.
Everyone laughed and talked shit as Jake climbed out of the car with a sheepish grin on his face. He shrugged it off and said, “Nobody can make this course, man.”
You pushed off your car, tossed your purse into it, and strode across the asphalt to Jake. He sobered as you approached, wariness diminishing the humor in his expression. You held out a hand for the keys.
“I wanna try,” you said.
A quiet ooooo rippled through the group.
“No offense,” he began.
You tore the keys from his hand.
“Uh, knock yourself out, I guess.”
“No way,” someone else said, shaking his head as you passed him to the car. “What’s a civilian gonna do? Total our car!”
You slipped into the driver’s seat and adjusted it before slamming the door shut, blocking out the naysaying crowd’s voices. Inhaling deeply, you glanced at the obstacle course, committing it to memory.
How’s this for fast? you thought savagely.
Kicking the car into gear, you shot forward into the opening of the track. With practiced hands, you shifted seamlessly through gears, the clutch almost purring with relief at not grinding. Coming up to the first pinched turn, you tore around it easily, the rear bumper of the car missing a cone by mere centimeters.
The thrill of the speed rushed through you, making the crowd and the circumstances drop away. You tore around the next turn, looked ahead to see that two scattered cones were a threat to your wheels.
Without hesitation, you slammed on the brakes, sending the car into a slide. Yanking the gear shift into reverse, you pivoted the car into another 180, sliding through both cones and whipping around to finish the last leg of the course.
You streaked through the other side, not a single cone touched in your wake.
Cheers thundered in the silence of the night as you killed the engine and exited the car.
“Un-fucking-believable!” someone shrieked. “Did you see that!?”
The only woman in the group was grinning, a “Niceeeee” hissing past her lips.
Jake trotted up to you. “That was—”
You tossed the keys at his chest. He had to scoop them off the asphalt as you strode across the parking lot to your car.
“Hey, wait a minute.” He hurried to your side. “I want to talk to you.”
“What for?”
He blinked. “I want to buy you a drink, catch up.”
You stopped abruptly, adrenaline still flooding your veins. You stared him directly, the first time you had been able to meet his eye all night. He took a step back under the force of your gaze.
“Why?”
“Because…you’re interesting.”
“I was always interesting, dipshit. You just didn’t stick around to find out,” you snarled.
You took off to your car, leaving him standing there. He tried to catch up, but you were too fast for him.
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Jaded - Charlie Weasley
A/N: so, I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is start another series… and yet… here we are xD also, I’m sorry, I know She Is Love won, but I think we have established by now that my mind kind of does whatever it wants and I have no control whatsoever xD it’s all chaos here… anyways, I hope you like it :) 
Request -  Anonymous asked: Hello, I hope you’re doing okay my lovely. I was wondering if you could possibly wite maybe a enemies/rivals to lovers with Charlie Weasley and the reader? (Lots of sarcastic banta back and forth maybe they both work on the dragon reserve and are entrusted with transporting a very dangerous dragon to a new reserve, but something happens on the journey and just them to are trapped (either with the dragon or not) and then an argument that leads to some form of confession? This is so long I’m so bloody sorry, and I hope your writers block subsides [full request here]
Warnings: Charlie’s a bit of an asshole [but not really] for now, I think that’s it but please let me know if I’m missing something, also reader is from the Nott family
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D     
Your name: submit What is this?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Jaded
Hey…j-j-jaded… you got your mama’s style, But you’re yesterday’s child to me. So jaded, you think that’s where it’s at, But is that where it’s supposed to be?You’re gettin’ it all over me… X-rated
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Charlie fucking Weasley.
That stupid name had haunted you for more than ten years now. There were very few people you hated in your life but his name was definitely on that list.
After enduring seven years of him at Hogwarts, you thought you’d finally be free when he was being drafted to play Quidditch professionally and you would move to Romania to fulfill your dreams of studying dragons. But no, for some stupid twist of fate, he decided not to become a Quidditch player and all of the sudden there was another opening at the exact Romanian Dragon Sanctuary that you had applied to so, again, here he was. And it seemed that no matter what you did, you were never able to escape Charlie fucking—
“WEASLEY!” you yelled when you finally spotted him, not far from your hut.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess” you heard his voice as you approached him. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, brushing his hair away from his face, showing off his stupid tattoos on his stupid strong arms.
“I have asked you many times, to stop calling me that!” you glared at him. “I need to speak with you” you said, before you went back into your hut and he only raised his eyebrow before following you.
“Is this how you treat your guests, love?” he said, walking in and leaning on your desk as he started going through your stuff.
“I didn’t invite you” you smirked.
“You just did” he glared a little at you.
“Don’t be confused, Weasley, this is strictly business” you glared at him.
“Of course it is” he chuckled. “Are you working on the Sleeping Draught for the dragons? Weren’t we supposed to work on this together?”
“Yes, that is correct, Weasley. Excuse me for not wanting to wait 45 minutes to see you flirting with the group of girls casually visiting the reserve today” you told him.
“Oh, so you did notice that” he smiled. “Sorry, love, you must remember how it is” he said, brushing a hand through his curls and flashing his smile at you as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I had a complete section cheering for me back at school” he shrugged.
“Oh, yes. How could I forget?” you asked, sarcastically.
“You don’t have to be so mean about it” he pouted. “Why are you making so much of it?” he asked, grabbing one of the phials.
“Why did I just find out that you are coming with me to Hogwarts, Weasley?”
“I asked first, Nott” he smirked, winking at you.
“Could you please not mess up my things?” you said glaring at him, knowing he did it just to anger you. “I am making more because we are bringing four dragons, not three” you explained.
“What? That doesn’t make sense, why? Isn’t it just three champions?”
“Well, obviously something happened, and now there’s four” you explained. “Now tell me why Steven just informed me that you are coming. Evan was supposed to bring them with me” you insisted.
“Tah-dah!” he smiled. “Surprise, darling! Looks like something came up and you got an upgrade so I’m coming with you instead” he smiled.
“Feels like a downgrade” you muttered.
“Hey!” he said, placing his hand on his chest and looking at you pretending to be hurt. “How can you say that? This is going to be so much fun. You, me, back at Hogwarts, like the good old days” he smiled flirtily at you. “Remember?”
“I’m not sure what days you’re remembering, Weasley” you said pushing him away. “But good is not what I would use to describe them” you told him.
“Of course not” he rolled his eyes, grabbing another bottle on your desk and throwing it in the air before grabbing it again.
“Give me that!” you said, grabbing it from him.
“Okay, so, since we’re getting four-” he said, as he grabbed one of your notepads.
“Stop saying we. You’re not coming with me” you glared at him.
“Oh, I beg to differ, love, see here?” he said, pointing at the paper you had earlier. “That’s my name, right next to yours” he smiled. “It’s official” he added. “So, let’s see what you’re bringing” he said, looking through your notes. “Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green” he muttered. “Oh, I know, we should take the Hungarian Horntail we got last week” he smiled.
“What? Absolutely not!”
“Why not? That would be perfect” he said, grabbing a quill and adding it to the list.
“Weasley, that is one of the most dangerous dragon breeds and you want to take her to a school full of young students, do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?”
“Relax, it’s for the first task, I doubt it’ll be anything dangerous. Plus that’s why we’re going.
“No! We should take an Antipodean Opaleye” you said, trying to grab the notepad from him but he placed it out of your reach.
“Oh, come on, love. Live a little, I would have killed to see a Hungarian Horntail at that age” he smirked. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. We won’t let it” he insisted.
“You haven’t even spent time with her, Weasley, I have. I am telling you this isn’t a good idea!”
“What isn’t a good idea?” you both stopped when your boss, Steven stepped inside your hut.
“Well, we were just talking about how the fourth dragon should be the Hungarian Horntail” Charlie quickly said. “It was actually (Y/N)’s idea” he smiled.
“No, it wasn’t! I was saying that we should take the Antipodean Opaleye!”
“Come on, love, we are already taking a Common Welsh Green, we should bring something more exciting” Charlie insisted as he passed the notepad to Steven.
“I just don’t think that this-”
“I’m with Weasley” Steven said, before you could even finish. Of course, he was. Not because Steven was a jerk. He was actually a good boss. But this was the story of your life. Charlie would get away with anything he wanted. “I think the Hungarian Horntail would be an interesting choice. Plus, you’re going and if anyone can handle her, it’s you, (Y/N)” he smiled. “I’ll go make the arrangements while you finish the potion” he said, leaving your hut before you could argue.
“See? Lovely idea” Charlie smirked.
“Why did you do that? I’m telling you is not a good idea to bring her. She’s still settling in the idea of being around people-”
“You worry to much, love” he said, grabbing your phial and throwing it in the air again, but this time, he accidentally dropped it. “Uh-oh�� he said, before smiling innocently at you as you took a deep breath. “That wasn’t… part of the Sleeping Draught potion, was it?”
“You mean the potion we’re giving to the, now four, dragons we have to transport that you were supposed to be helping me with 45 minutes ago?” you asked, upset.
“Uh-”
“Yes, Weasley, that was part of the potion” you told him.
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“Well, look who finally decided to show up” you said, annoyed, as Charlie entered the class and ran over to your desk. You couldn’t believe you were stuck with him as your Potions partner for the entire year.
“Sorry, princess. Practice ran late” he smiled, sitting next to you.
“Don’t call me princess. And I don’t understand how being in the Quidditch team gives you immunity so you can show up whenever you want to and work on half a potion” you said, as you added the next ingredient.
“Come on, love. Don’t hate on the team” he said smirking at you. “Everyone loves the team!”
“Oh, yeah, I have such a deep admiration for guys who fly around in sticks with other guys” you said with a sly smirk.
“I know you’re joking, but when you use that sexy voice, you know it turns me on a little” he mocked you.
“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”
“Then sit down” he smirked. 
“Shut up! And help me with this thing, or I’m taking your name off the Potion” you said, as he saw the potion you were making on your book.
“Ugh, give it, you’re doing it wrong!”
“Excuse me? I have brewed the Volubilis Potion many times before, Weasley. And I am already halfway through, without your help. I am not doing it wrong!” you snapped frustrated.
“Yes, you are!” Charlie said grabbing the jar of Syrup of Hellebore from your hand but you didn’t let it go.
“No! Give it!” you said pulling it towards you.
“Ugh! You stuck-up, know-it-all drag!”
“Take that back you pompous Quidditch nut!” you argued, neither of you noticing Professor Snape coming towards your table.
“Mr. Weasley, Miss Nott-”
“Give it, Nott!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Fine!”
Charlie hadn’t been prepared for you to let it go and he ended up dropping the whole thing on the cauldron making it explode all over Professor Snape’s face. When you heard the small explosion, the entire class went dead silent and the two of you slowly turned to see your teacher’s face covered in soot.
“You two. Detention. Tonight. My office” Professor Snape said; as you both resisted with everything you had to not laugh at the change of his voice. “50 points off Gryffindor and 30 off Slytherin” he said before walking to his desk again.
“That’s not fair!” Charlie argued.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in in the middle of my class, Mr. Weasley” he added.
“Ugh! Thanks a lot” Charlie snapped at you.
“Me? You’re blaming me? You’re the one who dropped it!”
“Only because you wouldn’t let it go!”
“Enough!” you heard Professor Snape from the front of the class. “Both of you out of my classroom!” he said standing up.
“But I wasn’t-”
“NOW!”
“See what you did?” Charlie said once you were outside.
“Me? I had never been kicked out of a class or had detention for that matter! This is all your fault!”
“No, it’s not! You were making it wrong!” he insisted.
“UGH! Just because you’re the Captain of your bloody team, you think you’re the boss of everything! And everyone!” you snapped frustrated.
“It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be wrong!”
“You are so… so-”
“Charming?” he said smirking and raising his eyebrow at you.
“Vexing!” you snapped, as you walked down the hall but he followed you.
“Really? Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either!” he glared at you. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m (Y/N) Nott. I’m a patronizing know-it-all princess who thinks is better than anybody else!’” he said mocking your voice.
“Ugh! I don’t talk like that! You’re infuriating!”
“You know what? I hope you fail all your NEWT’s!”
“Yeah? I hope you go bald!”
“I hope you end up an old spinster!”
“I hope they cancel Quidditch!”
“Take that back!” Charlie snapped.
“Make me!” you said smirking at him.
“You know what? I hope that once we graduate here, I won’t ever have to see your conceded face again!” he said, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.
“My thoughts exactly, Weasley” you muttered to yourself before walking to the Library.
*-*End of Flashback*-*
“We can fix it, love. Don’t worry” he said, cleaning up the mess. “See? Just like old times” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun, princess!”
“Don’t call me that” you glared at him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. 
Yes, you had one very big problem. His name is Charlie fucking Weasley. And you have no fucking idea how you’re supposed to survive the next few weeks with him. 
To Be Continued
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
A/N: so… part 2?
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makncheese12 · 10 months
Text
corbul mic
Summary: what are the odds of meeting a pretty dark haired girl in your uncles bar?
A/N: I do not know Romanian so I used Google translate, GIVE ME A BREAK😭
This is for the short girlies since everyone is apparently taller than Jenna😔
Anything like in italics (I think that’s the word?) is Romanian.
Jenna Ortega x fem!reader
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A groan escapes your lips as your head bops up against the shoulder of the boy carrying you in a direction you didn’t know nor did you care.
Your only worry was the fact that every time your head hit his shoulder it would throb as if you were banging it against a pole but if you tried to lift it up to stop it would only grow worse and your muscles holding you up would go out.
Maybe you shouldn’t have drank so much last night. You certainly didn’t think so while you were drinking but as of now, you wanted to bury yourself alive with how you felt.
Another groan as you watch your arms dangle loosely. “Why are you so bumpy?..” you drag out making the man holding you chuckle lightly.
“I’m being as gentle as I can, besides it’s what you get for drinking most of the night.” He laughs as you rest your cheek on his shoulder, beard stubble tickling your face as you do so.
The smell of shaving cream filling your senses as you look up toward his freshly shaven mullet.
“I didn’t drink that much..” you mumble, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. A loud snort comes from him as he rounds a corner.
“Not that much? You were trying to start a fight with a street cat calling it papa.” He laughs and you groan once again. “We come back from a tour and you expect me not to celebrate?”
Three months away from your home town and around the United States with your band and it was far more than a success. Though they were already big in the world and you had only just joined last year, the people seemed to love you just as much as they loved the older members.
It was thrilling, really. Being on stage with hundreds of people watching for the first time after their guitarist left and was replaced by you. It was nerves wracking at first but once the adrenaline came in they were long gone.
A lot of the people were pissed off about how they had replaced the other member so easily and it hit headlines quick after your first performance, people debating if you should even be in the band.
There was even a petition going around for you to be kicked out of the band so the originals could be the only ones. A petty little thing you weren’t really worried about.
And you didn’t care in all honesty, about any of it. As long as you got to play and make music. And after joining the band, your streams from your own songs went up on every music platform.
You of course didn’t show off as much as your bands mates, it was still their show and you were just a prop to make them sound good.
“Let’s not forget how you broke down in tears when the cat ran off.” He completely ignores your earlier statement as the memory resurfaces inside his head, you falling to your knees and reaching for the empty space in front of you.
“Shut up Mikey.” You mumble as he steps up the stairs to the bar, your head bouncing against his shoulder much rougher before he steps inside, the loud bell above the door startled you slightly causing a jolt to invade your body.
“Ah, there’s the little rockstar.” A voice booms through the air as Mikey places you on the floor, arms and legs sprawled out. “Was your fourteen hour nap good, or did you want to sleep some more on the floor?” The room fills with laughter, men and woman in different sizes watch as you sit up slowly.
“Suck my dick.” You say giving him the finger as a man grabs under your arm pit and hulls you up. “Let’s sober you up for tonight.” He chuckles before guiding you to the bar.
You look up toward the much larger man, gray and black being swept back by his bandana, cigarette resting on his ear. His black tank top stretched across his large torso, showing the large amount of tattoos. You would have thought he was mean looking if you didn’t know him.
As soon as you take your seat, your eyes spot the French fries and burger in front of another large man. You reach over and begin shoving a few in your mouth.
“Hey Terri.” You mumble and a grunt in response comes from the man as he watches you steal a large amount of his fries from his plate.
“Did you miss me?” You ask, smiling wide as you look up at the man and watch as his mouth quirks up into a little smirk. He didn’t talk much but you grew to know what didn’t little things meant.
“Ah, shucks!” You say, your own smile growing as you punch his shoulder. He didn’t budge.
As you reach for another handful of fries when suddenly a hand comes down quickly and smacks your hand making you yank back your arms and look up to see the older woman who glares at you.
“Stop stealing Terri’s food.” A frown forms on your face as you lean into the man. “Terri doesn’t mind,” you start before looking up to him. “Do you Terri?”
He grunts in response before his eyes go back to the overhead tv. “See? He doesn’t mind.” You reach out to grab another but she’s quick to smack your hand again before taking his plate, most likely to get him more fries.
Just as she enters the kitchen your uncle comes back out with a plate full of chicken and an empty glass.
He sets the plate in front of you before filling the glass with a clear liquid.
“You start in forty.” He says as he leans against the counter to watch as you scarf down the food on your plate, a small smile resting on his face.
“Did you hear, they’re doing a little show nearby and a bunch of actors are staying in town.” He tells you before sitting up from his leaning position on the counter.
“What’s that got to do with me?” Your voice muffled through your food as you narrow your eyes at the man.
“I want you to behave,” there was a small warning in his voice, one you had heard countless times. It was as if he was asking you to challenge him or disobey. Though most of the time you did, you couldn’t help but gulp lightly.
“This town is a quiet one, let’s keep it that way?” A request? Surely he didn’t think you were that dumb to try and bring chaos into his quiet world.
You may have enjoyed a loud life, but he certainly didn’t. Preferring you to just keep your loud music to a certain level while you played in his bar or the club down town.
You roll your eyes as you shove another piece of chicken into your mouth. “Just because Jonas leaked out location last time doesn’t mean I will.” You huff out quietly, remembering back to the time when the boy had fans rolling into your camping grounds.
“I’m just saying, no funny business.” He says raising his hands up in defense before walking away. You grumble quietly as you continue eating your food.
————
“What do you plan on playing?” Mikey asks as you push your guitar box across the stage. “I haven’t decided yet.”
His face drops into an annoyed look as you open your book and begin flipping through the pages.
“You start in five minutes and you mean to tell me, you don’t know what you’re going to play?” He asks, noses scrunching up slightly as you flip through your work, unpublished songs filled the notebook. Ones you preferred only to play for your towns people.
“My head is still pounding give me a break.” You mumble as you continue flipping through the pages to see what best fit the mood for tonight. You glance around for a moment, a few people play pool and laugh. Others say drinking and quietly conversating. That left the already drunk people who were dancing around the floor and laughing, most of the people drinking now would join the eventually.
It was how it was most nights, doke nights quiet and others full of people; these nights were usually on Fridays.
Fridays were your favorites, ever since you were little when your uncle first brought you into his bar on a Friday after school. Most of your friends were made playing poker, being taught how to really play whether it be cheating, lying or playing truthfully. All you knew was that you were one hell of a poker player and knew everyone’s poker face like the back of your hand.
Sure you couldn’t drink alcohol but that didn’t stop you from having your uncle keep a few jugs of apple juice behind the counter.
You hum quietly before looking through the pages once again. But before you could the book is snatched from your hands all too quickly as Mikey races off.
You stand there for a moment, mind calculating what had just happened before you rush after him. You wouldn’t have really cared if there weren’t songs in their you weren’t exactly proud of and would be teased for months on end for.
“Come here you skinny bastard!” You call out pushes the chairs he had jumped over out of your way. He jumps over the counter before jumping up sliding it into an empty slot made for a different cups.
Your eyes widen as your rush over toward the slot and he slides over the counter once again.
You gape up toward the book that hung out slightly, before reaching up on your tip toes. You don’t even come close to touching it before jumping up, finger tips just barely grazing over the spine before huffing out in frustration as quiet laughs are heard behind you.
Your head whips around to see the source was Mikey, Jonas, your uncle and two younger looking men as they watch in amusement.
“You think this is funny?” You ask voice more than serious as they continue to chuckle to themselves. “Not at all,” your uncle says, eyes scrunching from smiling too hard.
“Just wondering why you don’t reach up and grab it like a normal person.” Your eyes widen and jaw clenches as your glare intensifies, face scrunching up in anger as the men continue to laugh.
“Average! I’m average!” You yell out, arms being thrown up in the air only making them laugh harder.
“Average my ass, your missing a few inches for that darlin’.” Jonas says shaking his head and you narrow your eyes at him.
He couldn’t talk, he was only a five foot nine fully grown man, at least you had an excuse being a woman.
“Come on, guys!” You groan out. “I need to choose a song and now I barely have time.”
“Choose from the heart.” Mikey says in a sing song voice, placing his hand over where his heart was.
“You know my memory is bad.” You grumble before turning back around to look up at the book, the edge taunting you as you do so.
Huffing out, you walk back up to the shelf before placing a foot your foot on the sturdiest thing and pull yourself, making sure your grip on the cabinets are tight as you reach up for the book.
Still, it was out of reach and you huff out as you bring your other foot above the over and once again pull yourself up, fingers grazing over the book. With one last stretch you grasp the book and a victorious smile forms on your face.
It’s quickly wiped off as two fingers jab into your sides and you lose your grip on both the book and and the cabinet.
You hit the floor with a loud thud and groan out, head pounding once again.
Your eyes land on a laughing Mikey as he holds his stomach, and hurting from suddenly laughing so hard.
You grumble loudly as you get to your feet, bolting at him but he quickly moves out of the way and around the bar.
The two of you run around, people moving out of your way and you move around and under people. Some laugh at your antics while others roll their eyes in annoyance, to used to the two of you acting like this.
Just as you round around a corner, you bump into a hard surface. Harder enough to knock you onto the floor.
A loud high pitch noise emits from the back of your throat as you roll on the ground to see who you had bumped into.
Your eyes land on a tall man, haired pulled back into a rat tail of a pony tail as his eyes widen while staring down at you, a large group not too far behind him.
“Well are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna help up a poor woman in need?” You grumble, noise scrunches slightly in annoyance when all he does is look at you.
“Damn tourist.” You mumble before being pulled up forcefully off the ground. Suddenly you’re not longer in pain from hitting the floor as you begin hitting his chest.
“Don’t touch me!” You call out, watching his smile grow before it looks to the man who had knocked you over raising his eyebrows.
“You’re American?” He asks, accent thick as he looks throughout the group around the small round table and you can’t help but do the same. And boy were you glad you did.
Everyone was more than beautiful, no flaws in any of their features as you look over their faces. One man had luxurious hair you were more than jealous of while the girl next to him lacked it.
Your eyes continue to travel over the group before a particular black haired girl caught your eye and you can’t help the way your hearts skips a beat and begins to speed up. Was this what a heart attack felt like?
Freckles littered across her face, dark eyes watching the interaction carefully looking between the three of you as if something bad was about to happen.
“I am so sorry.” The man says, putting his hands up and looking between you two. “It’s alright, it’s her fault for running around like a mad woman.” Mikey replies chuckle lightly but you can’t find yourself to react as you continue stare at the woman.
Her eyes soon land on you and your heart pounds even more, not noticed the other sets of eyes on you. The way her eyes bore into yours makes your palms sweat and you can’t help but gulp lightly as the next words come out of your mouth.
“You’re very pretty.” You say unconsciously as a snort is heard beside you. The girl only furrows her eyebrows in confusion along with the others. Right, tourist. Most don’t know how to speak your language.
But you still can’t help continue to stare, eyes staying locked with hers, palms becoming sweaty at her lack of reaction even if you knew she couldn’t speak your language.
“Alright love girl,” the man says as he lifts you up under your arm pits and carries you toward the stages, eyes never leaving the woman as the people who heard nearby smirk or laugh to themselves. “Let’s get you away from the embarrassment so we can go on stage.”
“They won’t know, they’re tourist.” You mumble as he sits you down on the stage. “And what about the song?” You ask, eyes traveling back toward the book still stuck in the slot.
“I chose one.” Jonas says as he holds out a CD case with sharpie marker written on top of it. A smile forms on your face at the realization of the song before looking up to him. It wasn’t one of your songs but it was definitely one of his favorites.
“How’d you get this on CD?” You ask tapping it in your other hand lightly. He shrugs after fixing his septum piercing and taking the CD. “There are things called printers, you know?” He states making you roll your eyes hard as you stand up on the stage.
Your eyes land on a large group of people you had recognized from down the street and now you really see where he got it from as they all wait in anticipation nearby the dance area.
“Hope your ready to wake up with a sore throat Mikey.” You laugh out as people begin to groan or cheer around the room.
“Everyone got ear plugs that want it?” Your uncle says before holding up the little baggies and people go rushing toward him.
You laugh as you finish setting up the electric guitar and Jonas takes his seat behind his drums.
You can’t help your eyes from traveling toward the group as the small round table, drinks both empty and full litter around the table as they all look around confused. Oh, how you loved chasing off tourist.
You watch as Mikey taps the microphone making a phump phump noise before smiling and looking back at you. He sends you a wink as you raise the strap around your shoulders.
You start the beat off soft, smiling lightly as the group begins to cheer and the customers whistle before your fingers become far more aggressive and Mikey’s high pitched voices yells into the mic, the once silent room filled with loud music you could probably hear down at your apartment if you strained your ears enough.
This wasn’t exactly the music you or your three person band made but it was the request for the night, and who were any of you to deny the fans?
Your eyes travel around the room as sweat begins to roll down your face, hair strands coming undo as you move your head around.
You see your uncle cleaning dishes with a large smile on his face as he watches you all, shaking his head lightly at the crowd as the dance around like a bunch of animals.
Then you look around the room, one or two people annoyed as they drink while the others watch or dance before you look toward the small circle table.
Most of their group watched the people around the room, one held their hands to their ears and one watched your performance. One that made your heart beat more than it was from the adrenaline of playing.
Her eyes stayed glued to you, at least you thought with how far away she seemed. You’re eyes were definitely glued to her.
It seemed to make you sweat a little more the thought of her looking at you made your nerves hit the roof, something you had never felt before. You didn’t even know the woman, hell you didn’t even know what she sounded like and she had you feeling like this. A smirk plays onto your face as you watch her, if she was watching her why not give her a little show? Mikey then steps toward you, mic close to both of your mouths as you sing with him with his voice far higher than yours mixing perfectly.
He had a different look on his face than he did when he went up on stage, usually he looked tense and forcing himself to get loose with the music but now he looked more than loose. He looked comfortable and ready to play for the rest of the night if he could.
Maybe being back home wouldn’t be so bad after all.
A/N: oh don’t you worry y’all, the next chapter there will be interactions, give it time😏 like my others it’s just a little introductory.
This one won’t be as slow burn I suppose😒
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teaboot · 6 months
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alrighty my interest is piqued, could you please talk about the traveling hitchhiker who knew juggling and Romanian?
one day I was working on the farm and a lady came up to me out of nowhere with a 4 gallon bucket and said "this is a weird question but would you be comfortable peeing in a bucket?". I told her I was not but asked what was up and she said she was just hired for the summer and was working on some kind of garden thing and for some reason needed piss for it??? Super weird. Anyhow she turned out to to super cool, she hitchhiked everywhere from Europe and worked for food and saw a help wanted sign for our place. Showed me how to use the busses and introduced me to trade-in book stores. First adult I'd met who agreed my dad was a controlling dickhead. Taught me how to kinda-juggle (she knew a bunch of circus stuff, walking on stilts, devil sticks, that sorta thing) and offered to teach me Romanian but I was already working on French. I made her a costume for Burning Man and last I heard she was on her way there next. I wanna be like her someday. Except maybe the piss bucket thing
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