#typical 6 grid it is

[velcryons]

" Though melancholy by nature, Aegon III found a source of light in his young queen, Daenaera Velaryon. The pair had five children in seven years; Daeron the Young Dragon, Daena the Defiant, Baelor the Blessed, Rhaena, and Elaena."

with @halfyearsqueen

#ooc ; #my edits ; #visage; daenaera #the initial pyramid layout i had in mind for this looked ugly so #typical 6 grid it is #mutuals can interact but only kore can reblog

[tsukimefuku]

Right, wrong and the in-between (Part 2)

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You and Higuruma were assigned to investigate the disappearance of women around Shinjuku. This led to a dicey situation regarding what place Jujutsu sorcerers occupy in this world and what is their role to play when non-sorcerers get involved.

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". There is currently a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a fic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)  The "Right, wrong and the in-between" will be a 4 (maybe 3) part short-story set in this AU. I hope you enjoy! The tags below will be applicable to every chapter.

Tags: oc/f!reader, soft/implied Higuruma x reader, soft/implied Nanami x reader, slow burn, mentions of violence and non-con/abuse among side characters, canon typical violence, some angst, some fluff, just characters being themselves driving the plot (and me) insane. Some philosophical debate will be in place.

WC: 1.9k

Nanami had been tracking down this curse for what seemed like hours underground, and he started to become tired and annoyed. It was a little before 6PM, and if he didn't end it soon, he'd be caught up in overtime for the third time that month.

The sorcerer removed his tie and started to wrap it around his fist, just to be ready in case he needed to use his collapse technique.

What a bore, he thought to himself, as he kept walking underneath the streets of Shinjuku following the semi grade 1 curse through the sewers. This curse was detected that morning by an assistant that worked for Jujutsu High, and it was a yet unregistered one. It probably sprung into existence not long ago, and was using the sewage system to move around Shinjuku's area.

Nanami heard a faint noise of a possibly slimy large body dragging itself a few meters ahead. He pulled his blunt sword from its support, on his back, and started to walk quickly to meet the curse. As he turned the corner to the tunnel, Nanami was met with an unsightly vision. The curse was a giant crimson and black worm, covered in holes, and had no eyes, only six sets of arms spread across each side of its body, which it was currently using to drag itself around. Even if the thing was big, it moved rather quickly.

Nanami charged at it, dealing a 7:3 blow perpendicular to the ground, but the curse reacted swiftly and crawled its way around the tunnel, getting glued to the top. At that moment, it spurted a green, thick liquid in the sorcerer's direction, which he managed to dodge. The liquid started to slowly melt the ground it hit, leaving a deep hole behind. Nanami sighed as he saw his wristwatch marking 6:02PM. He felt his cursed energy output increasing, and jumped from the side of the circular underpass, bearing his blunt sword, in a new attempt to hit it. The curse sensed him, and once again, evaded his blow by letting go of the walls and hitting the ground. It started to make a run for it, and Nanami promptly followed suit.

As it turned left, so did he, and then — nothing. Nanami heard some ruffling above him, and saw a sort-of manhole for ventilation. The creature had lodged itself in there, and was trying to escape the sewer. From what little Nanami could make out of the grids that covered the hole, it was in a secondary street, and no one walked or passed by during the time he observed it.

He calculated his odds and decided to risk a 'collapse' strike to bring the worm curse down.

***

"Wow, what was that?" You asked Higuruma, yelling, as you both felt the ground tremble underneath your feet.

"Perhaps an earthquake." He answered, nearly screaming too to make himself heard under the club's loud music.

The moment the robe woman took the girl inside the building, you both followed them, just to find that the door auto-locked itself. The cursed energy traces were all over, and matched the ones found on the other scenes. Higuruma considered bashing the door in, but you dissuaded him, arguing it would be a bad idea if the woman was truly the curse user behind the disappearances. You had no idea what her ability could be, so you had to have a smarter and less confrontational approach. He sighed in agreement.

"Let's wait for the club to open and find them from the inside, okay?" It was your suggestion, and it was exactly what you both did.

Now inside, the place was dark, neon, sweaty, noisy and filled with an assortment of women spinning on shiny poles. You knew this was a club in the red-light district, but you didn't expect to be caught up in that situation with Higuruma by your side. One of the waitresses had already offered her services to him, and you had to hold your laughter at that scene while he refused.

"Come on, that seems to be the back part of the operation." He said, tapping you lightly on your arm and pointing to a more illuminated part of the club, covered by a folding door. You both made your way inside, when suddenly you heard an older woman's voice.

"Sleep."

You nearly fainted at that moment, falling to your knees, and Higuruma began to collapse just like you.

Shit, shit, shit! 

It was a cursed speech user, and you both fell right in her trap.

"Higuruma, run!" You shouted, as you conjured one of your grenades, putting your hands together, and threw it upwards, exploding a lot of dust around you both. He seemed to be more resistant than you, and started crawling his way out with the chaos that ensued, being able to get up and walk away, with all the people screaming outside from the blast and all the running around. He looked behind and decided it would be safer to pretend he left, just so he could avoid being imprisoned too, and squiggled his way under the bar counter, deciding to hide behind a few boxes of booze until the cursed speech effect had dwindled enough. Higuruma had to focus all his will into not passing out.

As you started to drag yourself to the door, a hand grabbed you from the back of your neck and bashed your head directly on the ground, removing all the air from your lungs and leaving you completely disoriented as you felt a drop of blood making its way down your face.

"I said sleep, now." The female voice grunted. You heard two sets of footsteps making their way to you, one carried with them the familiar robe, and the other seemed like a male pair of feet wearing sneakers. You couldn't lift your gaze anymore, as you fell unconscious.

***

"Hey, wake up." You heard, while you were tied to a chair, both arms to your back, separated by ropes, and both legs wrapped together. The woman was standing in front of you, smoking on her cigarette, and the guy was leaned over on the edge of the room. It kind of looked like a shady interrogation room, and smelled terribly.

"Ugh, this place stinks." You said, trying to weave your way out of the ropes.

"No use. I tied these up myself, and I have a lot of practice in doing so, honey." She answered, while puffing her cigarette smoke directly onto your face. "Where is that fella of yours?"

"I hope that he's miles away by now." There was a clock on the wall, and it read 6:25PM. You were out for just some time, thankfully. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, darling, I'll ask the questions." She slapped you hard across the face, leaving a bad burning sensation on your cheek. "How did you find us? Tell me."

The urge to speak suddenly took you over, and you had to bite your lip again in order to not rat out on Jujutsu High. 

"Feisty one, huh? Well, let's try it again." She leaned over to your ear, while you were completely helpless against her technique. "Who sent you?"

"Jujutsu Tech." You blurted out, defeated. 

"The what now?" She asked. This woman has no idea what Jujutsu Tech is? You figured out a couple of things from that. Matching the sloppiness of her kidnappings, this woman was probably a newly awakened sorcerer, unaware of the full extents of her power. Also, given she had no idea what Jujutsu Tech was, you could use that as leverage, being careful not to lie in case she pushed you to relay more information about anything. Her cursed speech seemed to be pushing people to do things, like sleeping, waking up, or telling them something, but it was much weaker than Inumaki's power overall.

"I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, like you, and I work with them. They're probably sending people our way as we speak, to rescue me. So… You should really let me go."

"Jujutsu? Hm." The woman seemed to contemplate her options for a moment. "Do they have the money for a ransom? Tell me the truth."

That urge again. It was pretty strong. "Probably," you spat out. What a fucking nightmare.

She smiled and said, "it's settled, then. Toshio, grab her phone and call... Who should we call to inform you've been captured and request the money, darling?" The woman asked, while looking at you. You thought about your options, and who could get there faster to your aid.

"Nanami Kento. Call him." I'm sorry, Nanami, but you're the closest and one of the smartest. Please, may you talk to Higuruma before you get here. 

***

As Nanami finished climbing his way out of the sewer, after exorcising the cursed spirit, he saw many people running out of a nightclub, screaming about an explosion. He felt residuals of cursed energy over the building, and grunted as he decided to investigate, given that he was already on overtime clock hours.

He went inside, and chaos was the word to better describe the scenery that ensued. Nanami started to walk around and search for more cursed energy residuals, as he stepped inside the same room you were attacked with Higuruma minutes prior, now empty, but with vestiges of your cursed energy all over. As he was ready to walk out, Nanami felt somebody behind him. He turned around, ready to punch the person, and found Higuruma still recovering.

"Not so nice to see you." Higuruma said, supporting himself by putting a hand over Nanami's shoulder and bearing a half smile on his face.

"Same to you." Nanami replied, unimpressed. "What happened? Where is she?"

Higuruma's hand tightened around Nanami's shoulder. "They got her. There is a cursed speech user here. We need to hurry."

Nanami tensed up immediately, even though his vacant stare was the perfect disguise for the anger that had bubbled up. "It's bewildering how you never fail to disappoint."

Nanami's phone rang, and it was you on the other side of the line. He pushed Higuruma's hand out of his shoulder as he answered it.

"Nanami, I've been captured, and I need help." You said. There was some fumbling on the line, and a man started to speak. "We demand a ransom to let her go." He then proceeded to demand some absurd sum of money and wait for a few seconds.

"Of course," Nanami bluffed, knowing that would be their best alternative for rescuing you, "but where and when should this… ‘exchange’ take place?" 

They gave him an address that was near enough to where he and Higuruma were currently, and said, "meet us there in half an hour, sharp". The line went silent, and he ended the call, inhaling deeply. 

"Accompany me and make yourself serviceable, for once." Nanami sharply said at Higuruma. "This is the place we have to go. Let's see, however, if we can get a few things sorted out before we leave."

Higuruma sighed deeply and agreed to work alongside with Nanami, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine. Let's do this."

They had their first encounter right after you saved Higuruma by injuring yourself in the process, due to Higuruma's irresponsibility, and Nanami held some kind of resentment against the man since then. Nanami was still reluctant regarding Higuruma’s acceptance as a whole — a curse user that had actually killed people before coming to Jujutsu High, had his sentence suspended, and acted irresponsibly with colleagues in the battlefield. 

"Help me locate something we can use to our ears properly."

#jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you

[simplestudentplanning]

How To Start A Bullet Journal

Bullet Journal: "A customizable and forgiving organization system. It can be your to-do list, sketchbook, notebook, and diary, but most likely, it will be all of the above. It will teach you to do more with less." (Ryder Carroll, creator of the Bullet Journal)

Supplies

Notebook (typically it's a dot-grid notebook, but you can use any type of notebook)

Pen

Set Up Key Pages

Index Page: similar to a table of contents

Key Page: create a key or legend to represent different tasks, events, and notes.

Personally, I don't use these pages because I usually have a bookmark to keep track of important pages, and I already know which symbols/colours to differentiate my tasks/events.

Create a Future Log

Purpose: To see the next several months (or the whole year) at a glance

What To Put: At least 3-6 months of the year's worth of events, birthdays, holidays, deadlines, etc.

Monthly Spread

Purpose: To see the month at a glance

What To Put: A calendar, goals, and any other elements that are relevant to your planning.

Weekly/Daily Logs

Purpose: To see your week/day at a glance.

What To Put: Tasks, events, and notes for each day/week.

You can use a combination of both!

Design and Decorate

Purpose: To personalize your bullet journal so that feels more like you, and it'll be more enjoyable for you to use it.

Reflect and Adjust

Purpose: To see what's working and what's not in your journal system.

Consistency

Purpose: To get into the habit of bullet journaling. It'll help you be more mindful and organized with your life.

Experiment

Purpose: To find what works for you. Don't use other people's designs and ideas if it doesn't work for you. Bullet journals are supposed to be systems that will help you organize.

The bullet journal is a flexible system, and you can adapt it to suit your preferences and needs. Explore different styles and find out what works best for you.

#studyblr #study tips #study advice #study hacks #university #school tips #student #student life #study motivation #bullet journal #organizedstudent #organization #planning #planner #bujo #bujoblr #bujoinspo #journalling #notebook #journal #bujo aesthetic #notebooks #schoolorganization #school hacks #school advice #school life #uni student #university student #organization tips #advice

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 11

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags/content warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10

Chapter 11 summary: Dara and Crosshair return to town to get more intel, and Crosshair has a creative way of maintaining their cover when a few people get suspicious.

It was late afternoon by the time Dara returned to camp. Tech and Wrecker were stationed near the villa, finishing out their turn on surveillance, while Hunter and Echo rested outside the Marauder. Crosshair, it seemed, had returned before her—she had lost sight of him in the trees almost immediately—but was now sprawled on top of the ship, looking through the scope of his rifle into the distance. She gestured toward him after greeting the others.

“He tell you we’re going back later?”

Echo nodded. “He’s in a bad mood about it.”

“Big surprise.”

Hunter smiled a little. “Hope he didn’t drive you too crazy. What’s all this, then?” he asked, peaking into her basket.

“Dinner. How about you put those knife skills to use. These all need to be rinsed and then chopped.” Dara began unloading her supplies while Hunter and Echo looked at her with surprise. She raised an eyebrow. “What? We needed a reason to be in town, and I don’t like living exclusively on ration bars and dehydrated meals when I can help it.”

“She dug some of those out of the dirt,” Crosshair offered unhelpfully from his nest.

Dara rolled her eyes. “This may shock you, but that’s actually where food comes from.” Hunter gave the tubers a skeptical sniff. “Those need to be cooked before they’re digestible,” she warned. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

She put them to work quickly in the Marauder’s tiny galley, chopping the vegetables and herbs she had purchased at the market as well as the fungi, then mixing seasonings and liquids into the mixture before cooking it down to create a filling. Hunter peeled and chopped the tubers with characteristic ease, vibroblade moving nearly faster than the eye could track it. At Dara’s instructions, Echo boiled and mashed them before they were mixed with a fluffy yellow powder to create a dough. She demonstrated to Hunter how to wet his hands and form the dough around the filling, creating neat little balls that they passed along to Echo to steam in batches. A pleasant smell, equal parts meaty, vegetal, and bready, began to fill the Marauder as they cooked.

At some point Crosshair’s nosiness won out over his aloofness, and he climbed down off the ship to sit in a corner and watch them, occasionally offering his snide commentary on his brothers’ culinary skills. Between rude remarks, he considered Dara carefully, although she resolutely ignored him, sparing him not a single glance. The foraging seemed to support her story of living off-the-grid, although that was also a field survival skill that the batch was reasonably familiar with. She seemed to be at ease cooking, dropping a bit of her guard and the charm that she used to disguise it, and her interactions with Hunter and Echo were amiable more than anything, although Crosshair’s jaw tensed occasionally at the way she had to brush past Hunter when moving about the tight galley.

When everything was prepared, Dara set out the tray of steaming buns on the table. “Alright, that’s it. Dig in,” she instructed, grabbing one in her fingers and taking a generous bite. Echo and Hunter eagerly helped themselves, extolling the virtues of Dara’s foraging skills and cooking lessons as they savored them. Even Crosshair let out a begrudging grunt of approval, which finally drew Dara’s attention to him.

“You didn’t contribute,” Dara pointed out to him critically.

He gave her a smug look. “I provided entertainment and moral support.”

She fixed him with a glare. “I think I should go back alone later. It’s important for us to try to get more information on Prium and the villa, and people find you unpleasant to be around.”

Crosshair raised one eyebrow. “People?”

“Me. I find you unpleasant to be around.” However Dara had managed to hold in her irritation since getting back, it now seemed to be breaking through.  

“Dinner was good, but you still have to take him,” Hunter interrupted, rising from the table. “We’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh? Will you?” Dara instantly shifted moods, smiling up flirtatiously at the Sergeant. He gave her a wink and a chuckle in response.

Echo gathered up the remaining food to take to Tech and Wrecker as they swapped shifts. “Next time we do this, I get to go to town and hang out in a bar with Dara, and Crosshair can go on the boring stake-out all night,” he grumbled.

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” she replied charmingly.

Hunter and Echo departed, leaving the pair alone again. Crosshair looked at her carefully. “You haven’t forgotten about our little conversation the other night, have you?” His voice was quiet, casually venomous.

Dara got up, removing their pistols from the basket, and fitting hers into the concealed holster between her shoulder blades before handing the other to him to hide on his person. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

***

The bar was more crowded than Crosshair would have liked, and he had the sneaking suspicion that it was because there was little else to do in the town. The guards that he had noticed outside the lab earlier were there, celebrating the end of their shifts with a green, frothing beverage that reminded Crosshair of swamp water. A few of the other patrons also appeared to be lab workers, judging by their uniforms; they clustered together in small groups, looking nearly as glum as he felt. He would have much preferred surveillance duty. At least it would be quiet.

The lab director had been conversing engagingly with Dara from the moment they had arrived, hardly bothering to feign interest in her fake husband. “So, what sort of projects are you working on now? Anything exciting?” Dara inquired.

Raab tapped the side of his pudgy nose—a little too flirtatiously, for Crosshair’s tastes—in response to her query. “Ah ah, I’m afraid that’s sensitive information. Although I can hint that some of our recent work promises to be quite crucial for the galaxy. Galactic safety and security, even.”

“Of course! We would be nothing without scientific progress. And—forgive me, but is it true what they say about Dr. Prium? I’ve heard he’s quite a visionary.” Crosshair thought he saw a stormy expression momentarily cross Raab’s face at that comment. Dara’s eyes were calculating; it hadn’t escaped her notice, either.

“Yes, yes,” Raab said, a little huffily. “We owe a great deal to our founder. He’s a brilliant man.”

Dara leaned in conspiratorially and rested a hand on Raab’s arm, ready to exploit the employee’s apparent resentment toward his boss. “Without a doubt. But I think we all know that so often the people at the top love to take the credit and pass the blame. So I just wondered if he’s as incredible as they say he is. I’m sure many people at the company are integral to its accomplishments. You direct an entire lab, after all.”

Raab preened a little under the woman’s attentions and chortled. “I must admit, Prium can be something of an eccentric. And very protective of his research. A bit paranoid, if you ask me, hardly trusts anyone.”

“Paranoid? Surely not. He must trust you, after all, you’re his right hand!”

Crosshair thought that she was laying it on a little thick, but sure enough, the Sullustan puffed up proudly and not a little arrogantly.

“Indeed! I daresay I’m the only one in the company who’s ever been to his home lab,” Raab boasted. Perhaps he was even dumber than he looked. 

Dara’s feigned confusion, drawing her eyebrows prettily together. “Home lab? But he has a top-tier facility right here in town, with a full staff.”

“Ah, yes, but he prefers to take on some of our special projects alone. Top secret, you know? He won’t even let his maids clean up after him down there, has to do it all himself! Can you imagine?”

Dara had the conversation well in-hand, and Crosshair allowed his attention to wander. She was good at getting people to talk, and he wondered, yet again, what it was that she was hiding behind all that carefulness. Since their confrontation the other night, she seemed controlled by an iron will; although she had protested against his involvement in her part of the mission, she had mostly just ignored him, not rising to his needling remarks, no rage or frustration peeking out beneath her mask. Irritation, yes, but she seemed dead set on not reacting, especially not in front of the rest of the Batch. She was getting along well with them; the dinner stunt had ingratiated her with Echo and Hunter, and no doubt Wrecker and Tech would be similarly impressed.

He needed to find a more efficient way to break her.

With a malicious smirk, Crosshair took advantage of Raab’s momentary distraction from the conversation as he greeted one of his passing employees and pulled Dara into his lap. She didn’t have time to protest discreetly before Raab’s attention returned.

“Hunter. What’s gotten into you?” Dara scolded lightly. She swatted at his chest, giving him a severe look which she transformed into apologetic before directing it at Raab.

“Young lovers! Can’t keep their hands off one another,” the Sullustan said, directing a sordid look at the both of them which raised Crosshair’s hackles. He didn’t like Raab imagining what the pair of pretend newlyweds might be getting up to in their private time.

Squirming a little, Dara continued the conversation with the scientist as Crosshair idly rubbed one possessive hand along her thigh, relishing her warmth under his palm. For a moment he was even grateful to be out of his armor and in civilian clothes; he could feel every shift she made, every slight shiver and reaction to his touch as her body pressed against his. Glancing around the bar, he noticed the guards from the lab were staring at them and glared back until they looked away uncomfortably. When he traced his fingers up to the nape of Dara’s neck, she finally broke off her chat with Raab.

“Well, I think we had better get going, since Hunter can’t seem to behave any longer. Thank you so much, Doctor, it’s been a lovely time.”

The scientist looked at her seriously, then grasped her outstretched hand, unexpectedly raising it to his lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles. “The pleasure was all mine. How wonderful to meet such an enthusiastic mind.”

Lifting Dara off his lap, Crosshair stood and nodded coolly at the Sullustan, and they exited the bar. The second they were in the moist, open air, Dara reached over and pinched his arm.

“What the hell was that,” she hissed.

He shrugged, mentally resolving to get her back for the pinch as soon as possible. Perhaps with a pinch elsewhere, somewhere it would make her jump. “We got what we needed.”

“I could have gotten more.”

“Yes, I’m sure you could have spent the whole night flirting. Would you have preferred me to leave so you could get on your knees for him and see what else he’d tell you?” That had done it; she was furious, clenching a fist like she was barely keeping herself from hitting him.

“You kriffing—” she began explosively, but Crosshair interrupted her, hauling her into the dark entrance of a closed business and pressing her up against the door. Before she could keep talking, he kissed her hard, memorizing the surprised squeak she made with enormous satisfaction.

“Eyes on us,” he breathed into her ear when she broke away. “Lab guards from the bar.” A shared glance told him that she understood before she pressed her mouth back against his, throwing her arms over his shoulders and running her fingers along the back of his neck and scalp.

Hungrily—there was no reason for him not to enjoy this while he could—he pried his tongue between her lips, deepening the kiss, smirking at how she let him in to explore her mouth with barely any resistance. That wasn’t to say she was hesitant; in fact, her tongue met his eagerly, vying to taste him back with an intensity that shot a pulse like electricity straight to his hardening cock.

Crosshair nibbled her bottom lip, sliding his hands down her waist and along the curves of her hips, then pulled away to suckle at the crook of her neck, grazing his teeth along the delicate skin. Oh, how badly he had wanted this, to have the chance to pick her apart.

“Oh, Hunter,” Dara moaned a little more loudly than necessary. Fury swelled up in him to hear her saying his brother’s name yet again, goading him with it. Baring his teeth, he bit down harshly at her throat. He was hoping to hear another of those little squeaks, but having no such luck, he ran one hand along her ass and thigh before hitching her leg up at the knee to wrap around his waist and press her tightly to his erection.

“You’re going to pay for this,” she murmured. Crosshair exulted in the venom in her voice, enjoying it almost as much as the way she couldn’t resist pushing a little closer to grind his hard length against her center.

“So will you, burk’yc.” He trailed his lips down to her collarbone, tugging the top of her shirt down a few inches to expose more of her flesh to his attentions.

“Not here, darling,” Dara giggled, the malice back under control. “Why don’t we take a walk to somewhere more private?” Smiling wickedly at her, Crosshair let her leg drop to the ground and, keeping one hand controllingly grasped around the nape of her neck, led her through the dark streets in the opposite direction of the Marauder.

“Still watching?” she muttered a few moments later as they entered the forest surrounding town.

“They gave up following a few minutes ago, but we should take a roundabout way back to be sure.” Dara swatted at his hand when he made no move to release her.

He watched her slyly and let her go, inserting a toothpick in his mouth. She was seething, barely keeping her anger in check. Lovely, he thought.

“You couldn’t think of any other way to deal with that situation?” she finally spat out.

“Don’t forget, you’re the one who started all this, burk’yc,” he crowed.  

“Oh, but you’re certainly the only one who enjoyed it.”

With his keen eyesight, Crosshair could tell she was grinding her teeth, but he knew it was too dark for her to detect his smug look in turn. “Just like how I’m going to enjoy how you try to explain that pretty new bitemark on your neck to Hunter,” he replied.  

This time, when Dara pulled her knife, she was threatening him. The darkness was his ally as he deftly disarmed her, catching her by the elbow just as she stumbled over a tree root.

“Kriffing kark. I can’t see shit out here,” she huffed. Shaking out of his grasp, she pulled a flashlight out of her pack and marched off, not once checking to see if he followed.

***

That kriffing asshole. She was going to kill him. As soon as they were back to Ord Mantell, she was going to kill him and leave before his brothers could get their revenge on her. She would have to make it quick—without the element of surprise she doubted she would be able to take him down and then of course she wouldn’t have the time to spend flaying every bit of his skin off or engaging in all the other various and sundry forms of torture he deserved, but still, she was going to kill him.

And before she did that, she was definitely going to fuck Hunter and make sure he knew all about it.

Dara tried to slow her breathing, unclench her fists and jaw. She was laying on the nose of the Marauder, staring up at the stars, trying to recognize the shapes they took on this unfamiliar planet, connect them into new, mysterious geometries, create neat little polygons to shove her thoughts into—one of the many rituals she’d created to help tamp down her emotions when they threatened to burst out of her like a dam breaking. If she couldn’t quiet her mind, she’d never get to sleep, and tomorrow they were supposed to make their plan for infiltrating the villa.

Speaking of which, that smarmy Sullustan had given her a bad feeling. Whatever it was that the lab was working on, she had yet to hear of something considered essential for galactic security under the Empire that wasn’t terrible news.

And she could have found out more, if it weren’t for that kriffing asshole.

That asshole, who had taken every opportunity today to touch her (and she must really be touch-starved from living alone so long, his hands on her had felt so good) then accused her—not for the first time—of planning on sleeping with someone to get something out of them, then the kiss (his mouth was so hungry, he was a better kisser than she’d imagined) and his closeness (kark, when she’d felt that pressed up against her she’d nearly forgotten where they were) and he’d left a bruise on her for anyone to see, the controlling little—

She was going to scream if she kept thinking about this. Which was exactly what he wanted. To drive her insane.

She was going to kill him.

Tag List: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon

A quick note on my posting schedule! Work is pretty busy right now and, although I have a lot more of the fic written, I've skipped ahead a bit in my drafting so this is the last complete chapter I have in order, which means I need to dedicate some time to filling in the gaps. This means that the posting schedule will likely slow down from twice a week--I'll still try to post once a week or once every two weeks to keep things going at a regular pace!

In the meantime, I really appreciate comments for encouragement and hope you're enjoying it!

#the bad batch #bad batch #star wars #clone force 99 #tbb crosshair #clone wars fanfiction #tbb hunter #sw tbb fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction

[shes-homeward-bound]

Crash and Burn | Chapter 5

Summary: You’re the first female driver to compete in the Formula 1 World Championship in decades and it's your second year of navigating through a male-dominated sport. Your talent and drive to prove yourself made you vicious on the grid. Your seemingly unshakeable confidence was never questioned- until a certain Ferrari driver made you crash and burn.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Chapters: 5/?

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 6.5k

Posted on 6/11/2022

masterlist

A/N: Hey guys, I finally have an update for you! I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to comment or send a message. I love reading your reactions and it tells me what works and what doesn't. Enjoy the chapter and remember that this is fiction, not an actual depiction of their character.

Chapter 5:

Wrapped in a cocoon made out of blankets, you blinked warily as a stream of sunlight hit your face. You looked around the beautifully decorated room and remembered that you were in a hotel. Your little sister was studying in Madrid for a semester so you decided to visit her during your couple of weeks off from F1. You arrived at the hotel late at night and you were so exhausted that you forgot to shower and went straight to sleep. With a combination of jet lag and a lack of rest from the race weekend, you slept for hours without stirring awake. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was already noon, groaning when you remembered you were supposed to meet up with your sister Elsie for a late lunch. You rolled out of bed and took a quick shower and put on a pair of jeans, a nice blue sweater, a tan trenchcoat, and a pair of white sneakers. You were dressed cute enough for a nice lunch yet comfortable enough to roam around the city. 

At the restaurant, you and Elsie ordered seafood paella and a small bottle of white wine. After a few pics of the food and tagging and posting the restaurant in your Instagram story, it was time to catch up. Elsie always had a million questions about the cars and drivers, she loved that you were in Formula 1. Elsie used to compete in karting with you but it was your dream to pursue a career in motorsport while she wanted to be an engineer that built race cars. 

You could tell Elsie was dying to ask you about Carlos. She knew that Carlos was one of the only drivers that acted strangely towards you and since she was your number 1 fan, she undoubtedly noticed the change in your relationship. Elsie fidgeted with her wine glass and you grinned, you knew what question was coming.

“So… what’s up with you and Carlos?” said Elsie.

You laughed. “I ran into him in Mallorca back in March and yeah, I guess we’re friends now.”

“But….” she said as she urged you to continue.

You took a large swig of wine before admitting your little dilemma. “But… the problem is I like him.”

Elsie erupted in a fit of giggles that garnered a few stares from strangers. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! You guys are so cute with your little pinky swears. Are you guys like secretly dating or something like that?”

“No!” you said urgently. “He has no idea I like him and I’d like the general public to also not know so keep your voice down!”

With a significantly softer voice, she responded. “Can you relax? No one heard me.” She scoots her chair closer to you and continued. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think he sees me that way and even if he did, we’d be going into uncharted territory. I’m not sure if there’s a rule about dating a fellow driver but I’m sure the FIA would slap some stupid rule if they caught a whiff of any of the drivers together.” 

Elsie shook her head at you. “It’s so typical of you to start getting all negative. It’s almost like you enjoy thinking of the worst possible situations you can get into.” 

“You’re sounding a lot like Anna right now but you’re right, I'm working on it. You know how nervous I get when it comes to my image, these people are ruthless.”

“From an outsider's perspective, you’re still a badass female driver so I don’t think your image is in trouble here. What we have to work on is your perception of how Carlos sees you. I’ve watched every race so far and looked at all the interviews and fan content. Y/n… he looks at you with heart eyes. He’s so obvious.”

Now it was your turn to giggle. “He does not look at me with heart eyes.”

“Yes, he does! And the way he holds you when you guys hug makes ME blush. I don’t know how you compose yourself,” said Elsie. 

“You’re being ridiculous, if anyone is obvious it’s me because I practically launched myself at him after the race in Jeddah,” you said as you blushed remembering your actions.

The both of you resume your usual banter when you get a phone call on that distracts you. You look and see that it was an unknown number, you were expecting a phone call from Aston Martin headquarters so you excused yourself and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi y/n, it’s Carlos.”

Your eyes almost bugged out. “Carlos? How do you have my number?”

Your sister leaped toward you and pressed her ear to the other side of the phone. You tried pushing her away but she wouldn’t budge. 

“Lando gave me your number a couple of days ago. Ehhh… I just realized that calling you might have been weird. I’m sor-” 

“No! No, it’s not weird at all,” you rushed to reassure him. “I’m just wondering why you're calling.”

“Oh my god, I’m embarrassed now. I saw on your Instagram story that you were in Madrid and instead of texting you I just called…?” 

The slight rise in his voice made you laugh. “Don’t feel embarrassed, I’m really glad you called. Are you in Madrid right now? If you want, you could meet up with me and my sister at the Prado Museum at 4.”

You hear him make a sound. Was that a sigh of relief? “Yes, I am. I’m visiting my family here in Madrid and I was just shocked at the coincidence of us being in the same city again.”

Carlos agreed to meet up with you and when you hung up, Elsie squealed. You sat back as you tried to process what just happened. You couldn’t believe he called you and you couldn’t believe that you invited him. You were also shocked that Lando gave Carlos your number.

“That was weird. The fact that he called you with no hesitation says something,” said Elsie.

You pursed your lips. You thought about it being a possibility but you quickly shook your head. There was no way. “Maybe Carlos is more of a phone call kind of guy,” you suggested. “I assure you that Carlos does not like me. So when we meet up with him in the museum later, please don’t be weird. Don’t be obvious.”

With a sly grin, she nodded. “Understood, I’ll be the perfect wing-woman.”

*******

Museo Nacional del Prado was beautiful, its grandiose demeanor should have taken your breath away but the sight of Carlos standing by one of the columns was all you could see. He looked like a casually-dressed gentleman dressed in a black jacket with a blue sweater peeking underneath and jeans with Chelsea boots. You liked it when Carlos wasn’t wearing any Ferrari uniform, you were able to see his fashion sense and it made you feel better about liking a fellow driver. Without the Ferrari red and Aston Martin green, you two were friends with no complications. 

Carlos finally spots you and with a smile, he walks over to you and Elsie. You give him a quick hug and introduce your sister who was acting way too giddy and chatty. You didn’t think Carlos noticed but you gave her a look that silently begged her to stop. Carlos laughed at the fact that you had just seen each other a few days prior and failed to mention to him that you were visiting your sister in his hometown. You replied that you just had a lot in your mind. I was too busy thinking about you, you thought. 

Once your little trio got tickets, Carlos surprised you with his extensive knowledge of the museum's permanent exhibits. You loved learning about history so you kept asking questions and would add some input whenever you knew some facts. Carlos was also such a great sport when it came to taking pictures of you and your sister. Elsie was the type to document everything in her life so she insisted that Carlos should also join you in some of the pictures. You wanted to smack her because every time she made you pose for a picture, she’d manage to find a way to shove you towards Carlos. 

 It was in a grand room filled with Southeast Asian art when you noticed how close you were both standing to each other. When you walked to the next piece of art, your arms bumped each other and stayed stuck as you both admired a statue. It made your heart pound that neither of you pulled away and now, his signature scent had engulfed your senses. You made a joke about the statue's awkward position and Carlos laughed and looked down at you from where he was standing. He was so close, you were mesmerized by his eyes when you noticed his gaze flicker down to your lips. You searched his face trying to find any indication of what he was thinking. A small smile graced him and you couldn’t help but replicate it.

Shuffling feet and an audible click of a camera made you whip your head around to see your sister frozen in place with her camera in hand. 

“Sorry! Don’t mind me, I saw the Diego Velazquez painting from across the room and rushed before people blocked it,” she said pointing to a nearby painting. 

Carlos abruptly stepped away from you. With a red face and stammering his way through a sentence, Carlos tried to nonchalantly brush it off and then pretended to be very interested in a nearby statue. You stared at your sister in shock, that moment was so intimate and you couldn’t believe it happened. With a wink, she discreetly showed the picture she took and you gasped. It looked straight out of some museum date Pinterest board. You and Carlos wearing a similar color palette while standing side-by-side gazing at each other. You thought she only took one picture but then she started clicking through her camera roll to reveal multiple photos of you and Carlos walking together. Some pictures made you inwardly groan because it was a candid shot of you beaming at the man next to you. It surprised you that no one had approached either you or Carlos and you were glad. You were being so obvious and everyone in the room could probably tell you had a big fat crush on him. You loved your fans but the last thing you wanted was to get caught in a mob with Carlos. 

You looked over to see that Carlos was talking on the phone.

“Oh gosh, he’s on the phone. Probably calling a friend to make up some excuse to leave,” you said. “I hope he doesn’t think I tried to kiss him or anything like that.” Elsie rolled her eyes at your unnecessary panic. 

Carlos walked over still red on the face and looking slightly nervous.

“I was just on the phone with my mother and she wanted to invite you for dinner tomorrow. But do not worry, I already said no and told her that you were here to visit your sister,” he said rapidly as he tried to gauge your reaction. 

Before you could speak, Elsie piped up. “Oh no, don’t worry about me! I have classes all day tomorrow and I have the rest of the week to spend time with my sister. Tell your mother that she can make it for dinner.” 

Carlos laughed at Elsie’s eagerness but looked warily at you for your response. He wished with all his might that you would agree to come to dinner with him and his family. When his mother called and found out that you were with Carlos, he was caught off guard when she made him invite you for a meal. With the recent self-realization of his feelings for you, he thought the dinner was the perfect step towards Carlos gaining your trust. 

With a deep breath and pink cheeks, you nodded. “I would love to have dinner with you and your family.” 

Carlos wanted to take a victory lap around the room but being the smooth operator he was, he gave you a charming smile and said that he would pick you up at your hotel. 

*******

This was probably the 100th time you fussed over your outfit while standing in front of the full-length mirror. You had spent the majority of your day running around the city preparing for this dinner with the Sainzs. You may or may not have stalked his family on social media and from what you learned, they were classy yet humbled and family-oriented. You purchased a bottle of nice French wine and arranged a beautiful bouquet. For your outfit, you had to find the perfect balance of dressy and casual. You wouldn’t dare upstage your hosts but didn’t want to get caught looking too casual. You opted for a dark green silk top and high-waisted black trousers paired with black pumps. 

You let out a small shriek once you received a text from Carlos saying that he arrived and was waiting in front of the hotel. You gathered your things and managed to make your way to the elevator without fainting. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you wanted to hurl and crawl under your covers. You tried convincing yourself that this dinner wasn’t a big deal, you’ve met a bunch of the other driver’s families but you couldn’t count that since you were all in F3 or F2 together. It also didn't help that you had a big fat crush on their son.

A small commotion outside the front doors made your stomach churn, that could only mean one thing. All hopes of staying under the radar with Carlos were thrown out the window but what did you expect? Of course, Carlos was going to get noticed in his flashy new Ferrari whilst he drove around in his hometown. What was going to make this a bigger spectacle was an Aston Martin driver hopping into Carlos’ car. You made a mental note to avoid your discovery pages on social media for the next few days. As you stepped outside, you saw Carlos perk up which sent the crowd's heads snapping toward your direction.

You immediately put your frustrations on the back burner and grinned as you made your way toward Carlos. Ignoring the crowd staring at both of you, he leans in for a hug. 

“Nice to see you again. You look beautiful by the way,” he whispered in your ear.

You felt your face get red hot. This was the first time he complimented you on your appearance. You manage to stammer out a quiet thank you before the fans started asking you for pictures and autographs.

You handed your things to him to place in the car and started signing some autographs that were closest to you. After a few minutes of chatting with some fans and practicing your Spanish, you and Carlos were able to start driving. Once you were away from the hotel, you and Carlos looked at each other and started laughing.

“Well, I didn’t expect that mini meet and greet,” you said. “I may be great with the media but I’m still getting used to all the public attention when I’m off the track.”

“Yeah, it took me a while but after 7 years in Formula One, you get used to it. The Tifosi are amazing and it’s nice to meet people who support you on race day,” said Carlos.

You hummed in agreement as you sat back trying to calm the nerves you were feeling. The dinner, the fans, and being completely alone with Carlos were stressing you out and Carlos could sense that something was wrong.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m just a little nervous about meeting your parents.” You refrained from telling Carlos that you were a little wary of what the fans would say after photos of you and Carlos would circulate on the internet. If you opened up that conversation, it may get awkward and you wanted to avoid that.  

“Don’t feel nervous about my family, they’re already a fan of your driving. I know they’ll love you.” Carlos cringed as he said the last sentence. He made it sound like you were meeting your parents for the first time as his girlfriend. In an attempt to distract you, Carlos rambled on about who was going to be at the dinner. The distraction was successful as you and Carlos started telling each other about your childhood and your families. 

By the time you arrived at his house, the little incident at the hotel was long forgotten as you mentally prepared yourself to meet his family. You knew you were being dramatic but you felt like you were meeting the family of a significant other. Once you were both out of the car, Carlos insisted that he should help you carry your things so you handed him your purse and the bottle of wine. The bouquet that you helped arrange was enormous and you wanted to be the one that handed it to his mother. As you approached the house, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Carlos holding your purse. The whole thing felt a little domestic and the very idea made your stomach flutter. Shooting you an enthusiastic smile, Carlos opened the door to be instantly greeted by his mother and father. 

“Y/n! Hello, it’s so nice to meet you!” said his mother. 

Giving her your most charming smile, you handed her the flowers. “Hello Mrs. and Mr. Sainz, thank you so much for inviting me into your lovely home.”

“It is our pleasure, my dear,” said his father. “Please, call me Carlos Sr.”

“And call me Reyes, there is no need to be so formal.”

To your delight, Reyes absolutely loved the bouquet and set off to find a vase. Since you and Carlos arrived a little early, Carlos offered to give you a house tour. Your apartments in England and Monaco were nice but the Sainz’s house was on a different level. The house was modern but still held an air of elegance that whispered old money. He lead you to a living room that acted as a trophy room. Carlos proudly showed off his father’s rallying trophies and joked about his significantly smaller section of the room.

You pointed to his 2021 Hungarian P3 trophy. “I almost snagged that one from you, do you remember?”

Carlos chuckled, “I had to defend hard that race, my strategist was so nervous that he made me nervous. You were pulling maneuver after maneuver, you had me on my toes till the checkered flag.” 

You smiled as you relived the memory. “I remember being so frustrated with you, I was trying so hard to get by but I didn’t want to push too far and crash into you. You know, I tried to find you after the race but you were really good at avoiding me back then.” 

Carlos looked at you with shock then proceeded to laugh. He knew you were joking but didn’t expect you to call him out at that moment. “Well, I was a fool last year and I missed out on getting to know you. I was such an idiot.”

You shrugged, attempting to act casual after what he told you. “Yeah, it kinda hurt the way you acted but, that was last year. Besides, look at us now,” you playfully bumped your shoulder on Carlos. “I’m literally in your house about to have dinner with your family. I think it’s safe to say that we’re friends.” 

With that statement, Carlos felt a spark of hope for your relationship with him. If you admitted you were friends, then maybe you could be as close to him as you were with Pierre. 

Dinner with the Sainz’s was nothing to be scared of. You met his sisters and they greeted you with hugs and the same warmth his parents had shown you. At the dining room table, you were seated next to Carlos and Rupert, his trainer who was close to the family. The Sainz’s were so welcoming that it almost felt normal to be dining with them. Every once in a while, Carlos would get close and quietly ask you if you were okay and every time, you would assure him that you were. It was at those moments when his mother and sisters would watch your interactions, curious to see what kind of relationship you and Carlos had.

Since the weather was unseasonably warm, the group moved to the outdoor patio where the Sainz’s served more drinks. Surrounding a gas fire pit was an array of patio furniture. You and Carlos sit comfortably on a loveseat only to have his sister Blanca plop herself next to you. To make more space, you scoot closer to Carlos to the point where half of his chest was pressed against your back. You leaned forward for as long as you could but when Blanca made no attempts to move, you let yourself relax against Carlos. 

As you and the Sainz’s exchanged funny stories, Carlos Sr. asked who came up with the pinky swear idea. You were about to speak when Carlos beat you to it.

“Come on, you guys know me. Only y/n is capable of something that childish,” said Carlos.

You turn and playfully poked his side. “Carlos was the one who turned it into a good luck charm. I guess we’re both childish.”

Carlos laughs, “The pinky swear works! We have finished top 10 since the season started!”

As his family and Rupert bantered with each other, it was at that moment when you noticed that sometime during your exchange, Carlos’s arm was draped over your shoulder. Without thinking about it, you responded by nestling closer to Carlos and letting your head rest on him. You didn’t know if it was the wine that gave you the courage but if Carlos didn’t mind, neither did you. 

You and Carlos were so focused on trying to guess what the other person was thinking that they missed the absolute joy on Reyes's face. She could sense the two drivers were hesitant but she was convinced there was something between them. Watching them snuggled together confirmed her suspicions, Reyes just hoped her hard-headed son would allow himself to be with someone.

The drive back to your hotel was far from quiet. You wanted to talk to Carlos about that little cuddle you both had but you were too nervous. You opted to get all chatty and gush over his family. Carlos knew that you were a talkative person but with the way you were stumbling on words, he suspected you were nervous about something. He tried to remember if something went wrong during dinner but couldn’t think of anything. Carlos was thrilled that you got along with his family, his parents liked you so much that his dad and mom made a promise that they’d visit you at every race they’d attend. Carlos offered to walk you to your hotel room and you happily accepted. You continued to be extra chatty but once you both entered the elevator, there was a moment of silence. Carlos looked over to see that you were fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. 

“Y/n?” said Carlos.

You took a deep breath and faced him. “Umm, can we talk about what happened on the patio?” 

Carlos felt the blood drain from his face. Oh god, she was probably uncomfortable but didn’t say anything in front of my family. I fucked up. He stiffly nodded, waiting for you to reprimand him. 

You racked your brain trying to find the best way to say it but you couldn’t handle the silence.

“I didn’t mind it," you blurted out. “I don’t know about you but I’ve been feeling some tension recently. I can’t pinpoint when it started but I like spending time with you.” 

Like all the things in your life, you went full speed ahead but this time you made the wrong move. When you saw Carlos staring blankly at you, you flung yourself to the far corner of the elevator. “Aaaand I read this situation wrong. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Carlos. Forget what I said. Please, just forget everything I said.” 

You practically ran out once the doors opened. By the time you got to your hotel room, you felt him grab your hand. You turn to face him with your head down, you couldn’t look him in the eye. “Carlos, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.”

Carlos lifts your chin, making you look at him. “You were talking so fast, I was just trying to process what you said. If you didn’t run away I would have told you that I like spending time with you.” 

You studied him trying to find any trace of insincerity but all you could see was Carlos giving you the most gentle smile. “Really?” 

Carlos nodded. “I meant what I said back at my house, I was an idiot and I wish I had been your friend from the beginning.” 

Your heartbeat was erratic, going from feelings of panic to elation left you mentally and physically exhausted. Squeezing Carlos’s hand, you tell him of your plan. “Why don’t we both take it slow and spend time together to see where this goes? I have plans with my sister for the next few days but why don’t we go on a proper date sometime soon?”

“I was supposed to be the one to ask you out first!”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I beat you to it.”

Carlos hugs you goodbye and before you could chicken out, you go on your toes and press a kiss on his cheek. Feeling shy, you left him no time to react as you quickly opened your door and slipped inside. Before closing the door, you stuck your head out. 

“Goodnight, Carlos.” 

He smiled at your silliness. “Goodnight.”

*******

The next few days felt like a whirlwind filled with many activities. Before getting called into work at the Aston Martin Headquarters, you were able to spend time with your sister and managed to see Carlos a couple of times. When you weren’t with Elsie, you would be with Carlos training to make sure your bodies were in top shape for the next race weekend. One night, you received the funniest text from Anna asking why Rupert had messaged her asking what kind of training she wanted me to do. She immediately called and made you explain everything that happened. 

Sometimes it felt strange to be around him now that you both knew you had feelings for each other but in a way, it gave you both freedom to express yourselves. Telling Carlos and being honest with how you felt made your life a little easier. You were beginning to feel that Carlos was a physical touch and quality time kind of guy which perfectly matched your love language. You relished in the small touches whether it was on your back, arm, or leg. There was a time when you both collapsed in a heap of exhaustion in Carlos’s backyard after Rupert pushed the both of you to your limits. It was like one of those movie scenes, you and Carlos examined the clouds and talked about anything and everything. It felt like a dream, you were working in your dream job and you had someone by your side that could understand your struggles. You were interrupted by Carlos Sr. who came out to offer you water and fruit. You weren’t sure what Carlos told his family but they seemed to like that you were spending time with their son.

You spoke to Carlos about keeping it discreet in public, you knew that it was inevitable that people would photograph you in public but you didn’t want to confirm anything until it was serious. You had discussed that if you two were to confirm any sort of relationship, your teams, Formula 1, and the FIA would have something to say about it. You and Carlos were in uncharted waters, this had never happened before and you both decided it would be best to not confirm anything to anyone just yet.

*******

You loved Australia, the weather and people were something you looked forward to and it would be your first time racing on this track. Qualifying had just ended and the excitement in the air was electric, Daniel was certainly enjoying himself as the crowd cheered for him. It was his best grid position of the year and the Australian fans couldn’t have been more proud. 

With the top of your green race suit dangling from your waist, you made your way to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics paid no attention to you as they cleaned the car prepping it for tomorrow. It wasn’t strange for you to be in another team's garage, they were used to you floating around and hanging out with Charles.

You make your way to the team of engineers and find Carlos among them as they reviewed his data on the monitors. Carlos spots you and brings you to a backroom and immediately wraps you in a big hug. Carlos laughed as he tried to let go but you hold on to him tightly, burying your face on the base of his neck. Carlos was starting P9 on the grid and he was furious at himself but he couldn’t even complain when comparing what happened to you. You and Latifi got into a scuffle during your flying lap that caused him to crash and for you to damage your car and get eliminated in Q1. The race stewards penalized Latifi with 3 grid places but it didn’t matter.

“I was fast at every practice and then Latifi had to swoop in and fuck it up,” you mumbled. “I could have made it to Q3 but now I’m P19 and the mechanics have to work overnight to fix my damaged side pod.”

Carlos rubs small circles on your back, “I know, I am so sorry it happened.” He couldn’t say anything else, the best thing he could do was comfort you. 

“I’m sorry you got P9,” you mumbled.

You felt Carlos shrug. “It is not ideal but I’ll just have to keep my head down and do my best. You and me both.” 

-

It was race day and you woke up with a mission, P19 was the worst you’ve ever qualified and you were determined to score points today. You had a specific routine for race day to the point where you were almost superstitious about it, but it helped you calm your nerves. You start your day by drinking 3 full glasses of water as you moved around and put workout clothes on. The next thing to do was to get your muscles massaged to prime them for 30 minutes of yoga. After you and Anna finished yoga, you texted Pierre. 

Breakfast?

I’m already waiting for you, ma chérie

Pierre had been one of your first friends in Formula 1, he invited you to sit with him and Yuki for breakfast and quickly became friends with the French man. The one time you didn’t have a meal with Pierre, you DNF’d the race. After that, you made Pierre swear to you that the breakfast was sacred and it was now an upheld tradition. Once you get to the hotel restaurant, you see that Yuki and the McLaren drivers were also joining you for breakfast. Once the drivers were situated with their savory breakfasts and special electrolyte drinks, is when Pierre mentioned something you wanted to avoid. 

“How was your break? I saw that you went to go visit Elsie in Madrid,” said Pierre. 

“It was great! I loved spending time with my sister, I rarely get to see her these days. How was your break?”

Completely ignoring your question, Daniel chimed in. “Oh! Carlos told me he was going to visit his family, did you guys meet up?” 

Lando perked up and you held back a laugh. You remembered that it was Lando who gave your number to Carlos and it suddenly made sense to you. Your dear friend Lando had been trying to set you up with Carlos. From sharing a private jet and giving Carlos your number, you realized they were all meant to get you two closer. You didn’t know whether to laugh or get annoyed that it worked. What made this situation great was Lando had no idea that you and Carlos were now somewhat “together”.

“Actually, the Sainzs invited me for dinner and it went well! I met one of the family members and we hit it off, I’ll be seeing him again,” you said.

You shook your head as the boys whopped and hollered. What made you laugh was the disappointed look on Lando’s face. You almost felt bad but you didn’t lie, you just withheld which family member it was. 

You heard a few pings from your phone and right on schedule, you received your good luck texts from your family. After talking with your family, you liked to shut off all contact until after the race and if anyone needed you, they’d have to call Anna. You were just about to shut off your phone when you received a text that made you grin.

Good morning beautiful. I hope I caught you on time, I remember you told me about your routine. I just wanted to tell you good luck and I know you will kick ass today. If anyone can pull a miracle, it will be you. See you soon.

You’re so extra. You could have told me this yourself, i’m literally seeing you in a few hours.

I know you get nervous on race mornings so I wanted to make sure you are okay.

You’re the best. I’ll see you at the parade. 

You couldn’t help the stupid smile on your face, he was so good to you. You didn’t notice that the boys were watching you until you heard laughing.

“Ooooo look at her blush! She’s talking to him right now!” teased Yuki.

Daniel couldn’t stop giggling. “He’s probably wishing her luck for the race today!” 

You quickly turned off your phone and gave them the finger. “Keep it up and none of you will meet him.” You smirked as the statement effectively shut down all conversations about your mystery man for the rest of the meal. 

The parade went by smoothly, it was set up differently this year with each driver sitting in separate classic cars. You were only able to give Carlos a small wave as you passed by his car to get to yours. The only time you were able to properly talk to him was during the grid lineup. Now that you and Carlos were together, you were more cautious when you were around him in public. Hooking your pinky with his, you hyped each other up but made sure you kept enough distance from him. Once the race started, you fought hard at the first few corners and were able to gain a few positions. By lap 2, your strategist informed you of a yellow flag, and before you could ask, you see a Ferrari in a gravel trap. Slowed down, you were able to tell that it was Carlos, and your heart sunk for him. Lined up behind the safety car, you noticed that Carlos had yet to get out of his car so you radioed your team if Carlos was okay. After being reassured that he was fine, you let yourself relax and get back into your race mindset. You were glad he was physically okay but knew that he was beating himself up because the championship was within his grasp.

By the time you crossed the checkered flag, you screamed into the radio celebrating your P10 finish. You only got 1 point but getting yourself from P19 to P10 was going to shut up those who doubted you. Aston Martin had yet to talk to you about your contract renewal but you knew this race gave you a fighting chance to stay on the team. You congratulated the others but amongst the chaos, you couldn’t find Carlos, and all you wanted to do was go to him and see how he was doing. Turning on your phone, you see a text from Carlos asking you to meet him in his hotel room after the driver interviews. After making sure you no longer had team obligations or interviews, you headed out to see Carlos. The moment he opened the hotel door, Carlos pulled you into his arms and held you like his life depended on it.

You wrapped your arms around him. “I am so sorry Carlos,” you said softly. 

Carlos shook his head in disappointment. “I cannot believe that happened, we had to change the steering wheel before the race and the new one triggered the anti-stall….. and I was so frustrated that I dropped down to P14. I pushed too hard and then I fucked up,” rambled Carlos.

Just like yesterday, the only thing you could do was comfort each other. You pulled back and looked him in the eye, “You are one of the best driver’s on the grid, you’ll be back on the podium in Imola.” 

Carlos took that moment and basked in your presence. His race might’ve been ruined but you standing before him and supporting him, took most of the sting away. Smiling down at you, Carlos admired that even in the disheveled state you were in, you still had this beauty that took his breath. Carlos chuckled when he noticed what you were wearing. In your rush to see Carlos, you managed to get into biker shorts but never changed out of your fireproof undershirt. It made him smile that someone as immaculate as you was willing to go out in public dressed like that. Carlos was weary about your relationship but every time you were with him, you lit up his world and he’d forget his worries. 

You looked up to see Carlos gazing at you deep in thought. Reaching up, you played with the hair on the nape of his neck. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking of how lucky I am and that I want to kiss you.” With your heart pounding in your chest, you nodded. Pulling him down, Carlos met you halfway. He kissed you softly as he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist. You pulled him closer and ran your fingers through his hair. Kissing Carlos was like a gentle breeze on a hot day, giving you relief and comfort. In his arms, all your worries about your driving, the media, and your future in F1 washed away.

don't forget to tell me your thoughts and reblog!

taglist: @oyesmendes, @forzaferraris, @harley-sunday, @thatoneidiot16, @haterpenny, @mysticalnightenthusiast, @laura-naruto-fan1998, @helluvahazelnut, @starjane312, @thatchickwiththecamera, @sticksdoesart, @xscorpioxmoon, @sanne-p, @lovingroscoee, @ruledchaos, @callmequeenbeee, @nochillnel

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz

[snailsagere]

Please read my dni in my bio before interacting

I made another sims 4 legacy challenge, this is different from my usual content so feel free to ignore if this isn't your kind of thing! :3

Anyway welcome to the Halloween legacy challenge! In this challenge you will play through different typical halloween 'monsters' and complete the requirements for each generation!

-Making your sims the different occults is optional, if you'd like you can loosely make a sim based off the occult but not actually make them that specific occult type!

-you can choose which requirements you'll do since I did include some alternatives if you're missing any packs however

-try to complete at least 6 requirements per generation (unless I didn't include enough alternatives and you don't own a pack)

The packs commonly used in the challenge are-

Vampires, island living, werewolves, cottage living, cats and dogs, realm of magic, paranormal and get to work

I used other packs too but these are the ones I'd recommend if you want to get the best experience of this challenge!

👻Ghost👻

You don't remember much about your past but now you're a ghost with a love for haunting music... wait can I smell burning?

Traits-

Loner

Music lover

Gloomy or paranoid (strangerville)

Aspiration-

Musical genius

Career-

Entertainer musician branch

Requirements-

👻become a ghost

👻reach level 10 of any music skill

👻live in a haunted house (paranormal stuff)

👻if you don't have paranormal, live with three ghosts which you cannot control

👻finish the crystals collection

👻your partner must die

👻don't have a good relationship with your kids, you're not around much anymore

👻get the needs no one reward trait

🧟Zombie🧟

...

Traits-

Clumsy

Loner or socially awkward (high school years)

Foodie

Aspiration-

Master chef

Career-

Culinary chef branch

Requirements-

🧟never do well in school and drop out as soon a possible

🧟reach level 10 cooking and gourmet cooking skill

🧟complete experimental food photos collection (dine out)

🧟if you don't have dine out, cook one of each meal throughout your life

🧟only introduce yourselves to others with the rude introduction

🧟go running atleast once a week

🧟never increase your logic and handiness skills past 1

🎈Clown🎈

You followed the same path as your parents you dropped out of school and discovered that you have a passion for making others laugh! No stop crying! I'm funny!

Traits-

Erratic

Goofball

Childish

Aspiration-

Joke star

Career-

Entertainer comedian branch

Requirements-

🎈drop out of school as soon as possible

🎈reach level 10 comedy skill

🎈have a job as a teen

🎈move to a different world once per in game week

🎈befriend the tragic clown

🎈always live in small houses never bigger than one bedroom or always live in tiny houses

🐺Werewolf🐺

You ran away from home to start a new life for yourself, you took whatever money you could and decided to live off the land in moonwood mill

Traits-

Hot-headed

Childish or dog lover (cats and dogs)

Loves outdoors

Aspiration-

Freelance botanist or Friend of the animals (cats and dogs) or Werewolf initiate (werewolves)

Career-

None, you must make money by selling plants from your garden

Requirements-

🐺become a werewolf

🐺'run away' from home as a teenager

🐺have triplets (you can cheat for this)

🐺own atleast one pet dog (cats and dogs)

🐺home school you kids (make your sims kids take 2 days off school per week)

🐺reach level 10 gardening

🐺use the simple living lot trait (cottage living)

🐺if you don't have cottage living use the off-the-grid lot trait

👽Alien👽

You're new to this planet and you want to learn all about it and perhaps explore the rest of space too

Traits-

Genius

Perfectionist

Loner or paranoid (strangerville)

Aspiration-

Nerd brain

Career-

Astronaut or Scientist (get to work)

Requirements-

👽become an alien

👽build a space ship

👽go to sixam (get to work)

👽if you don't have get to work, once you build the spaceship go to space once per week

👽go to university and join a club (discover university)

👽if you don't have discover university join a club (get together)

👽complete the aliens collection

👽go on holiday at least twice

👽reach level 10 in the handiness and rocket science skills

🧹Witch🧹

You've gained lots of knowledge over the years from your parents and now wish to fully use it with you trusty feline companion

Traits-

Genius

Bookworm

Perfectionist or cat lover (cats and dogs)

Aspiration-

The curator or Purveyor of potions (realm of magic)

Career-

Business

Requirements-

🧹become a spellcaster

🧹learn and craft all potion recipes (realm of magic)

🧹if you don't have realm of magic, buy all reward trait potions that cost under 500 points

🧹complete frog collection

🧹own atleast one cat (cats and dogs)

🧹reach level 10 charisma

🧹own and use a voodoo doll atleast five times

🧹own a herb garden

🧚Fairy🧚

You love nature and feel connected to plants and animals and wish to live within nature

Traits-

Goofball

Loves outdoors

Vegetarian

Aspiration-

Freelance botanist or Spellcraft and sorcerery (realm of magic)

Career-

Gardener

Requirements-

🧚become a spellcaster

🧚own a large garden

🧚use the simple living lot trait (cottage living)

🧚use the off the grid lot trait

🧚reach level 10 gardening and herbalism

🧚enter the finchwick fair once a week (cottage living)

🧚own atleast one animal

🌊Mermaid🌊

You love nature, the ocean and mischief, you wish to allure other sims to danger while living a peaceful life in the water

Traits-

Music lover

Romantic

Loves outdoors or Child of the ocean (island living)

Aspiration-

Chief of mischief or Beach life (island living)

Career-

Gardener or Teacher (discover university) or Conservationist (island living)

Requirements-

🌊be a mermaid

🌊move somewhere close to water or sulani

🌊only take baths

🌊reach level 10 singing and mischief skill

🌊complete the seashell collection (island living)

🌊befriend a dolphin (island living)

🌊if you don't have island living own five pet fish instead

🌊kill atleast one sim (your choice how)

🦴Skeleton🦴

You're a bit bonely but you want to meet more sims just like you and try to learn new things

Traits-

Gloomy or Squeamish (outdoor retreat)

Lazy

Loner or Socially awkward (high school years)

Aspiration-

Big happy family or Lord/lady of the knits (nifty knitting) or Jungle explorer (jungle adventure)

Career-

Freelance any or Critic (city living)

Requirements-

🦴go on atleast two holidays to selvadorada (jungle adventure)

🦴befriend a skeleton (jungle adventure or paranormal)

🦴own a cow plant, if it dies you must keep the skeleton and get a new one

🦴own a skeleton fish

🦴complete sugar skull collection

🦴unlock the forever full reward trait

🦇Vampire🦇

You are immortal and you want to be the most successful out the whole rest of your family, afterall you do have forever to do so

Traits-

Ambitious

Snob or Proper (snowy escape)

Materialistic or self absorbed (get famous)

Aspiration-

Mansion baron or Master vampire (vampires)

Career-

Secret agent or Law (discover university)

Requirements-

🦇become a vampire

🦇own a plasma fruit orchard (vampires)

🦇if you don't own vampires own and fruit orchard worth around 10,000 simolions (decorations in the orchard do contribute to the 10,000 simolions)

🦇live in a mansion

🦇reach level 10 in piano or pipe organ skill

🦇have at least 100,000 simolions

🦇have at least one enemy

🦇master the vampire lore skill and complete the vampire skill tree (vampires)

🦇if you don't own vampires unlock the never weary and forever full reward traits

#the sims 4 #sims 4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims 4

[f1fanficrecs]

Lestappen Fic Recommendation List

These are recommendations sent to me by an anon and by @ilottofhope sent in to me (I will update this as I get more. Thank you for sending these in, I really appreciate it!

Fics with an Explicit Rating

'The Things You Do' by loveleclerc: This fic has an archive warning for Graphic Depictions of Violence. It is a completed, 17 chapter, 72k word fic. The author includes this warning:

The fic premise is an AU, the summary telling that Charles is an escort who steals a wallet from Max -- the Penoze leader of Amsterdam and it goes from there.

'Feel The Heat Going Overdrive' by Anonymous: This is a completed fic with 12k words. The premise is described in the summary as, "In which Charles keeps asking questions about the RB18 in the midst of their sexual escapades and Max is literally one DNF away from blowing a fuse." Tags include Enemies to Lovers, , and Max Needs a Hug.

'Unbothered by porpoising' by Tetralea -- this is a short fic with only 564 words but the summary tells us that, "Charles discovers why porpoising never really bothered him." Tags include smut, boys kissing, and honestly Charles what are you thinking?

'uneasy is the head that wears a crown' by Richardmarie75: This fic has archive warnings of graphic depictions of violence and underage. This fic is ongoing with regular updates. 9/25 chapters have been posted and there are 52.3k words. It's a royalty AU and the author summarized the story as "Charles Leclerc ascends the throne consumed by grief. Max Emilian Verstappen pops up into his life unexpectedly, carrying with him words of peace". Tags include enemies to loves, slow burn, heavy angst, blood and injury, angst with a happy ending.

'Sweet Redemption' by just_an_inchident: This is a 7.7k fic that the author summarizes as "this is how Monaco 2022 could have ended." Tags for the fic include pining, drunken confessions, and idiots in love.

'60 seconds' by braakingpoint: This fic is not completed with 5/6 chapters posted, it's currently at 22.5k words and it is an AU. The author summarizes it as, "The grid, along with the whole world experience 60-second visions showing them their future in 200 days. Charles doesn't dare share what he sees." Tags include angst, smut and happy ending.

'Escape as far as possible by Zzz998: This is a completed fic with 14 chapters and 33k words. This is a future fic with the premise being that Daniel Riccardo wants to win the motorsport triple crown and he needs to win the 24 hours of Le Mans so he recruits Charles and Max. Tags include enemies to lovers, retirement, break up, fluff and smut, mutual pining, and hurt/comfort.

'champagne desires' by slutricciardo: this is a 7.4k fic and the author best describes the fic as, "max hates Charles. charles, however, thinks max is just uptight." Tags include, Rivals to lovers, Rivals with Benefits, and Getting Together.

'I do' by LaurawritingF1: This fic is completed with 3 chapters and 3.3k words. It appears to be smut during/after a Lestappen wedding.

'The Prize Dinner' by Tetralea -- this is a 2.2k word fic and the premise is based of this: "Whoever wins the Monaco GP, wins a dinner with members of the royal family. And this year, only Prince Charles can attend."

'it all reminds me of you' by grandprix: This is a completed 3k fic. It's a friends with benefits fic with tags that include secret relationship, caught and non-linear narrative.

'towards oblivion' by playclock: This is a 6.8k fic. It is a sex pollen fic that does have a dubious consent tag for the typical consent issues that come with fics like this.

'Burning down the house' by Madeleineee: This is a 4.3k fic where the author describes the fic as "Charles is a trophy husband, woefully unappreciated and unloved. Max is his nanny." The tags include alternate universe and adultery.

'to treat me like you do' by mondaycore: this is a 2.5k fic that the author warns has "unhealthy coping mechanisms, general violence, and nastiness." This fic is tagged with rough sex, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hate sex, and angst.

'your prison is walking through this world all alone' by multi21: This is a completed, two part fic with 12k words. It's a college AU and the author summarized it as "There are three things you need to know about Charles Leclerc: he's an artist, he's sad, and he's in love with Max Verstappen." Additional tags include unrequited love, angst with a happy ending, mental health issues and getting together.

'I stay because you are the beginning of the dream I want to remember' by AzziNow: this fic is not completed. There are 19 chapters posted so far and 59.6k words. This is a soulmate AU that has soulmate identifying marks. Tags include angst with a happy ending, bit of fluff and some humor.

Fics With a Mature Rating

'I Know Places' by Tazza1993-- This fic is a completed 3 chapter, 58.8k words. It is a Notting Hill AU where Max owns a cat cafe and is content with his quiet life until F1's Charles Leclerc comes across his cafe. The two tags are Romance and Fluff and Angst.

'small pleasures' by altissimozucca -- A 3k fic that is tagged as Netlfix and Chill and but they don't use Netflix and neither Charles nor Max has any Chill.

'Tear In My Heart' by Wellthisdidntgotoplan: This is a series with 3 parts and 6k words. I do want to note that the first two have a T rating while the last one has a M rating so I'm just sticking it in the M category. This series is all future fics where Max and Charles are married but separated and they have two kids and it chronicles that.

'heartstroke' by grandprix: this fic is not completed. Three chapters and 16k words have been posted. The premise appears to be Charles wakes up with amnesia and learns that he is married to Max Verstappen. Tags include amnesia, angst with a happy ending, and secret marriage.

'Kiss with a fist' by mahixa: A fic with 3k words, it seems there is some boxing in it and Charles has a Feelings realization.

'every other sunday' by Anney: this is a completed 9 chapter fic that has about 34.5k words. In this fic, Max is forced out of the closet and Charles is there for him. Additional tags include Emotional hurt/comfort, falling in love and Rivals to Friends to Lovers.

'Just an Incident' by WeaglesAndBrobean: This is completed, 15 chapters with 17.4k words. The tags include slow burn, childhood trauma, enemies to friends to lovers, friends with benefits, and internalized homophobia.

Fics with a T Rating

'It Only Takes A Shunt' by Rearwingblues: This fic has 1700 words and the summary describes it as, "Max ends up in the wall and Charles has a realization." Tags include love confessions, fluff and mild angst in the beginning.

'this is our place, we make the rules' by PrincessElectra: This is actually a series of three stories, completed with 46k total words. It seems to follow Max/Charles relationship. Some of the tags are Enemies to Lovers, Falling in Love and Angst with a Happy Ending.

'so i guess I'll be sticking with you' by artifice: This is a 3k word flower shop AU and the author summarizes it as, "Charles gets Max a plant for Christmas." Tags include fluff and humor, getting together, and implied sexual content.

'take your time, this is not the end' by imnotheretodie: This is a 6.1k fic that is described by the author as, "5 kisses that were strong enough to keep them apart vs the 1 that makes them stay forever." Tags include mutual pining, Charles is a drama queen and idiots in love.

'we're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love' by monzas: this is a 8.7k fic where "Lando sets Max up on disastrous blind dates that end up with Max falling for the bartender who was the real set up all along."

Fics with a G Rating:

'you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest' by altissimozucca: this is a completed, four chapter fic with 21k words. It's a future fic set after Max and Charles retire and they set off on a road trip together.

'carpe diem' by altissimozucca: this is a 3.1k word fic that is described as a 4 +1 but it's four alternate universes plus 1 real one.

'soulmates (or, max has a love-hate relationship with coldplay)' by altissimozucca: this is a completed 1.3k word fic. It's a soulmate AU where you can hear whatever you soulmate is listening to in your head or can hear the melody of the song they're singing/humming. It's also a 4+1 so it's "four times Max had to listen to music against his will and one time his soulmate had to, too."

'stars' by xiaoluclair: a 2.5k fic that is described as "two conversations, ten years apart".

Not Rated Fics:

'Unlearn' by wantinghopingwriting: A completed fic that has 14 chapters and 46k words. It's described in the summary as a "fake friendship to fake lovers to something else". Tags for the fic include slow burn, fake/pretend relationship, enemies to friends to lovers and angst with a happy ending.

'Little Do You Know by socialite -- this is a 15 chapter, 40k word fic. {listen, I don't try to inject my personal opinion into the lists but this is one of my favorite fics that I've read, ever.} Anyways, Charles finds himself in a situation where he hears his friends' unfiltered opinions about him and honestly all hell breaks loose. Tags include jealousy, communication failure, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, and enemies to lovers.

'just like a folk song, our love will be passed on' by multi21: this is a series with two completed words in it and has 38.7k words. the first fic is charles' pov and the second is max's pov and the author cautions that neither of them are reliable narrators. Tags include Angst with a happy ending, Depression, Mental Health Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Self-Esteem Issues and Homophobic Language.

'home (is wherever I'm with you) by actparci: this fic is not completed. 3/4 of the chapters are posted with 11.9k words so far. The premise is described as "Charles leaves Ferrari, tries to win a championship, and learns some things about belonging. All the while, Max is there." Tags include pining, angsty Charles and slow burn.

'out of my imagination' by plotracer: There is an archive warning for graphic depictions of violence. This is a completed two-part fic with 23.4k words. It is a soulmate AU and the premise is described by the author as, "In a world ruled by the memories of your soulmate, Max tries to find the one who is his source of light." Tags include Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, and slow burn.

"If the whole world was watching, I'd still dance with you." by 4amdecisions. This is a 4.5k word fic that has tags of getting together, panic attacks and friends to lovers.

Feel free to send me your Lestappen recommendations!

I used some of the author's own descriptions for their works so anything in quotes is not something I wrote, credit goes to all of the wonderful writers!

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fan fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fic recs #lestappen

[bunnieshoneys]

hiiiiii!!! :D dropping by to let you know that i just read the entirety of coanda effect over the course of the last 2-3 days or so, and, even though i’ve never been interested in motorsport in my entire life (thanks nascar for being boring), your fic single-handedly has gotten me interested in f1 LMAO so like… is there an f1 for dummies somewhere that i can read orrrrrr :3c

but! aside from that, your passion for racing definitely shines through in your writing, and it is so, so refreshing to read an au based around a sport that’s equal parts about the sport as it is about the characters, so major props to you there! i’ve thoroughly enjoyed everything so far, and i can’t wait to see where you take it for the rest of the way through!! :)

as for my personal theories, i think yuji is gonna win the whole thing, but gojo will retire anyway in order to leave the future of the sport to the kids. becoming a mentor or a team principal definitely seems like the natural parallel to his role as a teacher in the source material. my current working theory for how he ends up is team principal for jtr so he’s still directly competing with geto. even if they’re not on the racetrack anymore, it’s such a wonderful full circle moment. like yeah, those two really did end up following each other through everything, despite it all…. idk it just seems so sweet to me. :’) lovers and rivals, better off on separate teams so they don’t have to sacrifice one to boost the other, and they wouldn’t have to hold back as much from each other either since they’d be in less media-facing roles. it also gives yaga the space to actually own the team and have a more focused role in management (at least if my understanding of his current role is correct)!

anyway, absolutely incredible work, i’m recommending coanda effect and talking about it to anyone who will listen to me, and i am genuinely sad that i did not pay to read it because it’s just that good. good luck for the rest of uni!! finish strong, i’ll be cheering for you!!! :D

p.s. shoutout to tumblr user fushiglow for sending me here :3

hiii omg.. if u havent been looking up stuff already theres a blog on here called @/f1-primers, that has some really useful technical stuff about tracks, drivers (including past drivers, not currently on the grid!!), the cars, and team personnel. they just rblog stuff from other accounts and group it together, but it is useful! that being said theres some tags dedicated to what looks like ships and i have to say i dont really condone that at all. theres a reason i dont typically interact with irl f1 fanbase on this app, the lines are quite blurred on here.

otherwise, theres the f1 explained series on F1's official tiktok account. the first video of that basically breaks down the weekend timetable, and part 6 explains the running order in more detail :) otherwise, i love answering f1 questions on here, i have a whole tag for it! (bunny talks f1, its tagged here)

i love writing about the sport lol, and i like sport aus to read that use the sport as a plot device so thats what i did here, lol. i am also planning a figure skating au, showjumping au, and possibly an ice hockey au (but i dont play it myself, so ... maybe not for a while, lol)

no spoilers, but gojo's future post end of this fic is not decided, lol. itll be decided when i write the sequel, lol.

(@fushiglow i love you, you got one)

#fic: coanda effect #jjk #bunny answers #bunny talks f1

[sekiromi]

A Devil You Do, ch. 6

pairing(s): Raphael x Tav/Reader, Astarion x Tav/Reader themes: reincarnation, soul bond, past lives, lost memories, pining, slow burn cw/tw: canon-typical violence, gore word count: 6.9k previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

[read this fic in all its glory on ao3!]

Chapter Six: The Famished Come to Feast

Two doves on the selfsame branch, Two lilies on a single stem, Two butterflies upon one flower: - Oh happy they who look on them!

You did not enjoy interplanar travel, you decided, tightening your grip on the devil whilst your free hand flew to his upper arm, squeezing your eyes shut as you waited for it to be over. Luckily, you did not have to wait long, your feet coming to rest with only a slight sway on solid ground after a mere few seconds. Raphael placed his hand over yours and looked down, eyes silently asking if you were alright. You managed a tight smile which seemed to satisfy him, and he led you both down a cobbled alleyway awash in the orange glow of the streetlamps overhead.

Underneath a forest green awning attached to an old building that simply bore the words ‘sub rosa’ in golden lettering, various tables and chairs were arranged in a neat grid, each with an oil lamp burning in the centre, some filled with patrons of the restaurant, others empty. All kinds of creatures seemed to dine here, some you did not even know the names of and had never seen before, but they all appeared to have one thing in common; whether they were alone, with a partner, or amongst a small group, there was an air of secrecy about them, an illicit understanding that their business was their own and no one else’s. You got the feeling that you should not look too closely at anyone nor try to eavesdrop on any passing conversation, and politely averted your eyes as Raphael opened the door, gesturing for you to enter first.

Inside was a small bar that stretched to the back wall with glasses, goblets, chalices, drinking vessels of every kind displayed on open shelves around the top and hanging from rails underneath. Wines of every colour, region, and vintage lined the cabinets, accompanied by interesting looking bottles of spirits, liquors, and various other distillations that you did not know the names of, forming an iridescent rainbow of glass that shimmered in the light. From another room you could hear the muffled sound of a piano being expertly played, a piece you recognised as the gentle, romantic rhythm of Liszt’s Consolation no. 3. Behind the bar, a rag in hand as they dried the bottom of a glass, tail keeping time of the piano solo like a swaying metronome, stood a tall tabaxi, their inky black fur interrupted by a bib of white that extended from their chin beneath a crisp dress shirt overlayed with a fitted waistcoat, bow tie perfectly symmetrical in the centre of their elegant neck.

“Raphael,” they greeted warmly, returning the glass to its home as they rounded the end of the counter and approached before stopping to give a low bow, “good evening to you, and your delightful companion.” Striking yellow eyes fastened themselves on you, thin pupils imperceptibly moving across your smaller figure as they appraised you. Transfixed by the creature, you could not look away. “How are you both this evening?”

“Quite well, thank you, Six. How about yourself?” You were surprised to hear Raphael reciprocate the question, and turned your gaze to him as he exchanged pleasantries with the waiter. He did not notice your look, or pretended not to at least.

“Very well, thank you for asking. If you’ll both please follow me, your table is just this way.”

They led you past the bar and through a red curtain half-covering an arched doorway to the left. This room was dimly lit, shaded lamps diffusing faint, warm hues across the small space, and casting soft, substantial shadows in convenient places. There were fewer tables inside than outside, you noticed, no more than six all together, and all except one were filled. Towards the back of the small room stood a baby grand, rich and perfectly polished mahogany reflecting the flickers of the many candles alight. A demure elven woman draped in a black dress of fine silk played tunefully, feet pressing pedals beneath as her fingers danced across the keys, their tone resonating softly within the chamber of the instrument.

Six led you past the other seated patrons to a table tucked away in the back, sandwiched between the wall and the windows. Raphael gestured for you to take your pick of the two seats, and you slid into the one further away that allowed you to look across the room, your back to nothing apart from the wall behind you. It was not until Raphael took the other seat that you realised you had voluntarily put yourself into a corner.

You smiled up at Six in thanks as they placed a copy of the wine list in front of you, offering some clarifications and advice on the rather daunting list of options. Altogether there were about seven pages to flick through, three dedicated to just red varieties, and you did not fail to notice that there were no prices listed.

“For tonight’s menu, I recommend a paler wine,” they brandished a quill from somewhere and, leaning over you, drew little stars next to their favourites as they flicked through the pages, “any of these will pair well with your meal, an orange one in particular will complement the flavours without overwhelming them, but you might prefer a white if you like a slightly sharper taste. If there’s anything you’d like to try first, just let me know. I’ll give you both some time to decide.” Raphael gave a nod of acknowledgement, turning his gaze towards you as Six bowed their head and slipped away. Glancing down at the menu, you perused the wines they had marked, not confident in your ability to pronounce many of them at all. Below each was written a brief description in a tiny hand, noting the top-most flavours and general texture. You skimmed them all, filing away information about which were sweet and which were bitter, which had sharp hints of citrus and which had more mellow notes. They all sounded good to you, though not that you considered yourself much of a sommelier. Usually you would drink just about anything.

“Anything take your fancy?” Raphael asked, his own wine list left untouched in front of him. You glanced up at him before looking back down, your mouth twisting thoughtfully as you flicked back and forth through the sheets.

“Hmm…there’s too much to choose from, a lot of these sound really good.” Your eyes skimmed the same passages again as you propped your elbow on the table, resting your cheek against your fist before placing the menu down and fixing your gaze on the devil sat across from you. “What would you recommend?”

He gave a satisfied smile, honoured to have been asked.

“Like you say, many of them are very good indeed. Have you had the pleasure of tasting a wine from Tashalar before?” He asked, leaning back in his seat and slowly lifting one leg to cross over the other as he regarded you. You shrugged and shook your head.

“Not that I can recall.”

“In that case, might I suggest we share a bottle of Amarast Nectar?” He watched your gaze return to the list, eyes searching fruitlessly. “It’s on page six.”

You found it halfway down the page, its region of origin listed as the Delphin Mountains and notable flavours including orange blossom, dried apricot, elderflower, and a hint of chestnut with a salty finish to it. It sounded intriguing, and you were not opposed to trying something new, so you nodded in agreement.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Excellent.”

When in range, he alerted Six to your decision, and you watched as they left for the bar. Taking a moment to further inspect your surroundings as you waited, you again cast your gaze over the room. Hushed conversations faded into the melody of the next movement the elf played, cutlery clinked in soft chimes against crockery, and the atmosphere felt tight, almost intimate.

“What made you choose this restaurant? I would have thought you’d have a private room or something with your own personal chef.” You asked with a tilt of your head. Raphael raised an eyebrow.

“Is this restaurant not to your liking, mouse? You haven’t even tried the food yet.”

“No – I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought…I don’t know, I didn’t expect you to take me somewhere public.”

Raphael seemed to consider your words closely for a moment, drawing in a thoughtful breath as he searched for a response. In the end he settled for the truth.

“I did consider somewhere more private…however, I thought you might be more comfortable in a neutral, public setting,” he explained, before gesturing around the room, “besides, sub rosa is still quite an exclusive ‘members only’ club. Not just anyone can book a table here.”

You felt your heart settle a bit, sort of almost…touched, that he had the foresight to consider your trepidation.

“Oh. Well, that’s very thoughtful of you.”

He offered you a smile and a nod, silently saying but of course, as Six returned with your bottle of wine. They moved to fill your glass first, offering no more than a finger’s width, before looking at you expectantly. There was only half a moment’s hesitation as you figured out what you were supposed to do, you could not remember the last time you had been to a restaurant where you had been expected to try the wine before you committed to the whole bottle. After all, it was already open now anyway, what would they do with it if you said it was not to your tastes? You never could figure that out.

Delicately pinching the stem of the crystal glass, you aerated the amber liquid with a gentle swirl before lifting it to your nose. You did not consider yourself a sommelier, no, but you still had your senses. A burst of fruit and florals drifted up as you inhaled, hints that were amplified even more on your tongue, lingering on your palate in delightful swirls. Raphael watched you closely from across the table as you sampled the drink, enraptured by the performance as you flicked your gaze from him to Six, giving the latter a nod of approval and gesturing for them to fill the glass.

“I’ll be back with your first course shortly. Enjoy.” You watched as they departed before turning back to look at Raphael with a curious gaze.

“But…we haven’t ordered?” You questioned, arms folded in front of you as you leaned in closer. Raphael merely smiled, reaching to pick up his glass.

“Here at sub rosa they offer a very select, seasonal set menu that changes each day depending on what produce they are able to procure in the morning. There is only one option for each course.” He explained, not moving to take a drink of his wine.

“Is now a bad time to tell you that I’m kinda fussy?” You asked with a smile.

“Yes.” He tilted his head down a little to look at you through his eyelashes, amused, before raising his glass into the space between you both. “Now, let us drink. To new business partnerships.”

Lifting your own glass you gently brought it to his, careful not to accidentally break it, before bringing the rim to your lips for a sip. It was sweeter the second time around.

Six returned soon after with your first course; crostino topped with warmed goat’s cheese, a sweet fig jam, and fresh mint leaves that tingled on your tongue. It was the best thing you had ever eaten, until the next course came out. A rich brown crab served on a bed of sauteed saltwort and topped with slices of juicy blood orange provided a nice, light contrast to your starter. And, as Six had promised, it paired excellently with Raphael’s choice of orange wine. The figs made a return for your dessert, baked into a buttery, crumbling tart crust alongside a nutty frangipane cream filling, presented in such a perfect slice it was worthy of a portrait, you decided.

Between courses and mouthfuls of the delicious food, you enjoyed a pleasant conversation with the devil. He told you about how he discovered this place, explained that it was first just a wine bar but, after a suggestion from him (and a small monetary investment) they opened up a kitchen and started to offer food. He mentioned how the main currency of the restaurant, rather than gold, was secrecy. Patrons of all ilk and walks of life sought sub rosa out for its policy on strict confidentiality. No business discussed within the walls of the restaurant would be repeated to anyone, and details of reservations were destroyed shortly after they had been fulfilled. You could come to sub rosa for an evening and be entirely lost to the world, something you felt you could soon get used to.

As the conversation developed, you had to wonder what the motive of the evening was. How many clients did Raphael take to fancy restaurants, charm them with his sharp tongue and opulent tastes, lavishing them with his attention? You did not kid yourself into entertaining the idea that you might be the first, nor the last; there was not a chance in the Hells. Still, he seemed like a busy man, and the fact that he had taken the time to turn his attentions to you alone felt significant, but you could not figure out why.

The truth, not that Raphael would let you know, was that you intrigued him beyond logical reason. Every meeting with you thus far, no matter your mood, had been an enjoyable one, and he had been invested in every detail of your journey from the start. Recently, he had found it hard to stay away, exercise some restraint, and let you come to him of your own accord. He wanted to get you alone, free from the whispering of the Emperor, from the judgements of your companions, allow himself to get a proper read on your character, discover something new about you. He wanted to give you a break, provide an opportunity for you to be entirely yourself for an evening. No open quests, heavy responsibilities, difficult decisions; just a fancy dinner.

And, if you happened to take a liking to him after tonight and felt more agreeable about signing his contract, well, then the evening would have been a wild success indeed.

The last piece of your tart lay on your plate before you, perfectly prepared to contain the optimal ratio of crust, cream, and fruit altogether. The perfect bite. You almost could not bring yourself to eat it, because then the meal would be over, and you would likely never again taste something so heavenly.

“Not going to finish your meal?” Raphael asked, his own plate now clear.

“I am. I’m just…savouring it, I guess. I’ve never had figs before, you know. Didn’t expect to like ‘em so much.” You idly poked the baked fruit with your fork

“Figs to fill your mouth…” Raphael mused, empty fork resting on his lips.

“Citrons from the South,” you continued with a fond smile.

“Sweet to tongue and sound to eye,”

“Come buy, come buy.” With the final line, you gave in and reluctantly devoured the last morsel.

“A fellow fan of Rossetti? You find ways to surprise me still, mouse.” You were not sure if it was the euphoria from the food, the effects of half a bottle of wine, or whether you were under some kind of spell, but the particular octave of Raphael’s voice this evening, the low purr that hummed in his chest when he spoke, did something to you, something unspeakable, something you dare not linger on.

With a sickening drop of cognizance, you realised you were attracted to him. A devastating realisation.

“Everyone knows the ‘Goblin Market’.” You ended up responding with a shrug, tracing patterns on your plate with your fork and trying to even out your voice.

“Do they, indeed…”

The desire to lift your head and look at him was immense, but you knew he was already looking at you and you could not bring yourself to meet his gaze just yet.

“Anyway, it’s not my favourite of hers.”

“Oh? Pray tell, my dear, which is your favourite?” You had him intrigued now. You could feel his eyes grazing your cheeks as you placed the fork down, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“I prefer ‘An Old-World Thicket’.” With a breath in, you lifted your eyes to cast them across him. He had averted his own gaze for a moment, wracking his head for a verse of the poem you spoke of.

“…Remind me how that one goes?” He asked with a hint of something akin to vulnerability.

“Oh it’s a long one, I can’t remember the whole thing. Let me think…” You wandered your own memories of being read bedtime poems as a child, searching for a full verse left untouched by the effects of the passing of time that you might be able to recite. After a few seconds you cleared your throat and began the first that came to mind.

“The pleasure I remember, it is past;      The pain I feel is passing, passing by;      Thus all the world is passing, and thus I:           All things that cannot last Have grown familiar, and are born to die.”

Raphael nodded eagerly in recognition as you spoke.

“Ah yes, I remember. Quite a sombre poem to have as a favourite, no?” He observed, moving to undo a fastening on his coat as he reclined.

“That’s what I like about it. The contrast between the beauty and vitality of the nature she describes around her and the solipsistic darkness within her. It’s very real and honest.”

Raphael felt the urge to ask you if it was a poem you related to, if that was why you held it dear, but decided that was too personal of a question for now.

“Any other hidden passions I’ve yet to uncover?” He settled for, resting an arm on the back of the chair casually.

“Oh, plenty,” you responded with a smile and half-laugh, “but I’ll save those for another night. Why don’t you tell me something, instead?”

“As you wish. What would you like to hear?”

You looked pensive for a moment, fingers tapping against your cheekbone and irises gazing upwards as you thought. Across from you sat a font of knowledge and experience. The stories Raphael could tell would no doubt be enrapturing, epic, and moving. You tried to think of something you might like to learn about, but there was so much to choose from. For a moment you considered asking about the Fall of Netheril, he had mentioned before he was there when it happened, but you quickly decided against it. You did not want to encourage discussion of the crown and therefore, by extension, the unsigned contract. Not yet, anyway.

“How about…‘The Harrowing of the Hells’?” You suggested, gazing curiously as his face contorted into an expression of displeasure.

“A rather unpleasant one, that. Would you not prefer a lighter tale?” His reluctance to divulge had you intrigued, and you could not help but to press him.

“I always preferred the darker fairytales as a kid.”

“My dear, the Harrowing is no fairytale. Besides, to hope to understand it there is another story that predates it that must come first. A long, sad tale in and of itself. Not suitable dinner discussion, I assure you.”

“Good thing we’ve finished our dinner, then.” You returned with a sly grin. He stared at you fixedly, narrowing his eyes and silently daring you to push the subject further. Upon seeing no sign of relent, he sighed.

“Alright, then. I must warn you now, though – this story does not have a happy ending. Are you familiar with the tale of ‘The Dove and the Devil’?”

An old fairytale from your childhood, one your mother would recite as a cautionary tale of sorts to prevent you from getting into too much trouble.

“I think so…it’s the one about an angel who was seduced by a devil, he tricked her into sin and so she was cast out of the Heavens? Then she rotted in the Hells while he profited from having corrupted such a divine creature.”

Raphael laughed mirthlessly and shook his head.

“You mortals always need a villain in your stories, don’t you? It was much, much simpler than that.” He glanced around before leaning in closer, which naturally encouraged you to do the same. “They merely fell in love, and paid the price.”

You felt your expression tighten into a frown.

“But, and I mean no offence here, devils…can’t love…can they?”

Raphael tilted his head and gave a small shrug.

“I suppose it depends on the devil. But usually, no, devils do not concern themselves with such infantile emotions. This one, however, did.”

You opened your mouth to add something when Six suddenly appeared and asked if you were both finished with your food so that he might clear the plates, forcing you to sit back and put some distance between yourself and Raphael. The waiter then inquired as to whether either of you would like a coffee, an offer both you and Raphael accepted, and left quickly to prepare them.

“Why? What was different about this devil?” You asked, leaning forwards again and crossing your arms on the table in front. Raphael looked thoughtful for a moment, ruminating on something, before responding.

“He was young, I suppose. He had not yet learned to hate.”

“So…what happened, then?”

He gave a sad sort of smile, wondering on where to begin for a few moments as Six returned with two espressos, placing them before you both gently with a clink of ceramic, and promptly left again. The enticing, toasted scent of the coffee graced your nose with hints of clove and cherry, a combination that seemed to warm you from the inside even before your first sip. You suddenly had the feeling you might never be able to smell coffee again and not think of this moment; being sat here in the dim light with Raphael, listening to his stories, enjoying his company, basking in the joy of a genuinely wonderful evening.

“Very well, allow me to set the scene, if you will…”

Raphael recounted the tale in spectacular, dramatic detail, gestures and expressions animated as he built towards the climax of the story. His voice, full of emotion and the weight of distant memories, described how the angel and the devil met on the material plane as children. How, both being the spawn of powerful immortals with whom they had a difficult relationship, they bonded unexpectedly. Knowing they were metaphysical opposites, but too young to really understand what that might mean, they played and indulged in mortal pleasures together, visiting great empires, witnessing catastrophic chaos, relishing in mighty battles, causing their own mischief. They experienced a shared youth together, sparing each other from what would have likely been an otherwise lonely childhood. This bond that they developed bloomed into friendship, and friendship eventually started to mature into something more.

They were nineteen when they committed their cardinal sin. Succumbing to their mutual desire, they made love in the blanket of the night, the moon and stars their only witnesses. Heavenly hands wandered infernal peaks and valleys, clawed fingers drew forth stuttered moans, and bodies intertwined in a magnificent collision of the divine and the damned. There was no insidious seduction, no illicit temptation, just a pure, adolescent, reciprocal hunger for one another that brought them together.

Once the Gods learned of the corruption of their asset, however, they raged. She was forbidden from stepping foot in the mortal realm again, and instead was sentenced to spend the rest of the century repenting for her sin in the Seven Heavens. Safely within the clutches of the spiteful Gods, her mind was poisoned against the devil, and any fond thoughts of him alchemised into ones of resentment. Feeding her convenient lies, they told her that a devil was not capable of love, that he was merely seeking to claim her precious soul as a powerful bargaining chip, a feat that would have earned him great honour amongst his kin. This is the lie that came to be known as the tale of ‘The Dove and The Devil’.

Confined to Mount Celestia, she spent her years training alongside a holy army in preparation for the Gods most ambitious plan yet: a full-on siege of the Hells, a war that would later become known as the Harrowing. With her methodically-nurtured contempt for the infernal and her overflowing divine powers, there was none better suited to head the charge. For over half a century she led scores of celestials into Avernus, striking down all devils, fiends, and demons in her path as a golden warrior, a reformed angel.

“She was a fearsome thing to behold, indeed. It was a perilous time to be a devil, you know, looking up to see her streaking through that red sky, it filled you with such a gripping sense of dread. Even now, I shudder to think of it…”

A devil that dies in the Hells, after all, dies for good. There was a devil though that, despite the concerted efforts of the deities, she could not bring herself to kill, even as he tried to kill her. Parts of Celestia, of course, can burn out the evil lurking within a soul, extinguish any corruption that had been implanted, but it cannot cure love. And, despite everything they had come to believe about each other, that love was still there. It was this love that became her undoing; in a moment of blinding fear, without hesitation she took the life of another celestial, one of her own charges, that was about to strike down her devil. This betrayal was a sin that the Gods could not forgive.

She was summoned back to the Heavens to face the wrath of her Gods. For all her virtues, she could not undo her actions nor deny the painfully obvious truth: her very spirit had been permanently marred by the hands of a most unholy creature, she had been contaminated and corrupted, and thus there was no place in Heaven for her. Stripping her of her station and immortality, they banished her to Nessus where she would be expected to remain for the rest of her now finite life, however long that came to be.

In the depths of the Hells, she could not hope for absolution from her Gods, but instead her devil proved to be her saviour. He recovered her from Nessus, taking her with him back to Avernus, where they fought together to bring an end to the Harrowing of the Hells, united as one.

“I would like to be able to tell you that this is where our story ends, that the dove and the devil arose victorious and retreated to a quiet, easy life together in relative peace, that they lived happily ever after in the Hells, content to spend a small eternity within each other’s arms. Alas, I did warn you this was not that kind of story. Although the Harrowing was over, another war was waging, a war that sent tremors across the realms, a war that was being fought on their very doorstep. I am, of course, talking about the Blood War.”

It would be during the battles of the Blood War that they would pay the price for their unbridled avarice. Believing they could do anything together, they gathered their own armies and set out to secure new victories. When a chance to acquire Cania arose, they were too hasty in taking it, sparing no thought to the circumstances under which the opportunity had appeared. During their siege, they became separated, a turn of events that was by no means coincidental. The Lord of the Eighth had set a cunning trap, enticing them with the potential of a new conquest, and then struck the devil where it hurt the most. Mephistopheles killed the angel, impaling her on her own sword, leaving her on display for the devil to find. In the tundra of Cania, he could not save her, and with her immortality stripped from her, she departed this world forever, cold, in pain, and so far from home.

“And that, I am afraid, is the end of our rather bleak tale.”

You were speechless, moved deeply and profoundly with Raphael’s retelling, the story striking a chord in your heart that threatened to bring tears to your eyes if you were to dwell on it for too long. It brought forth supressed images, fractured memories of distant dreams left behind in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, dreams you had since forgotten. You tried to hold them within your grasp, tempt them to come forwards and reveal themselves, but the more you tried the further they slipped.

The devil across from you looked somewhat wearier after recounting this most grisly history, shadows clinging a little tighter to the skin beneath his eyes. There was something else, something he was keeping concealed for now. You sensed he himself had something of a role to play in this sombre turn of events, and you could not help but to inquire about it.

“Did you know her at all?” You asked quietly, the last remnants of your coffee now long cold as you took a final sip with a grimace.

Raphael stiffened marginally, if you had blinked you might have missed it.

“No, I never had the pleasure.” A lie, you realised. “But I did know him, fairly well.”

You reckoned with the decision to press him about his mistruth, ask him why he was lying to you, but you sensed it would be a fruitless endeavour. Either he would insist, and likely end up convincing you of his dishonesty anyway, or he would get angry, and you did not want to ruin the otherwise pleasant evening.

“Oh? What became of him, in the end?” You settled for. Raphael’s usually warm eyes dulled for a moment as his gaze fell from yours.

“In his despair, he took his own life. Some centuries after her passing.”

“A true tragedy, then.” You responded mournfully, heart breaking for the condemned lovers. Raphael huffed a caustic laugh.

“Hardly. He was a weak, pitiful creature by then. Putting an end to it was the only mildly redeeming thing he did.” You frowned, not sharing in his sentiment as the conversation fell into a natural, only slightly uncomfortable, lull. After a few beats of silence, Raphael spoke up again. “Anyway, enough about that. The night is still very much in its youth. Would you do the great honour of accompanying me on a little stroll to the waterfront? The view is delightful at this hour.” He asked with a hint of intentional vulnerability in his tone. You glanced out the window, noting the blackened sky and twinkling stars. You had no idea what hour it might be, for the most part the evening had drifted along of its own accord, enjoyable company and enrapturing conversation seeming to have interfered with your sense of timekeeping. Still, what harm could a little longer do?

“I shall indeed.” You responded with a nod, unable to help yourself from mirroring the smile that adorned his face at your acceptance of his offer.

“Let us depart, then.”

He stood and led you away from the table, back past the bar where you each thanked Six for the meal, who smiled with a bursting warmth and assured that you were welcome back any time. Since he did not mention anything about the bill, you assumed Raphael had already settled it beforehand, and idly wondered how much it had cost him. You refrained from asking, running the risk of the answer making you feel either cheap or guilty.

Once outside, the welcome, tender warmth of the restaurant was replaced by the fresh night breeze, nipping at your exposed skin and causing goosebumps to erupt in the wake of its caress. You drew in a tight breath, steeling yourself against the sudden chill, cursing yourself for not bringing a cloak or something to shield you from the cold, and followed Raphael closely as he led you towards the main street before taking a right, turning to the river path.

Glancing down to check on you, he noticed you had drawn your arms around yourself, shoulders shivering almost imperceptibly, face contorting into a grimace as the wind rushed up from the river to meet you in an unpleasant gust. Without hesitation he undid the fastenings on his coat, slipping it from his shoulders to instead place it over yours. You looked up, bewildered, about to utter a polite refusal which he immediately silenced.

“I do not feel the cold as you do, my dear. You need it more than I.” You could not argue with him, though you would have liked to. The heat of his body lingered on the inside of the coat, radiating deep into your skin and instantly stilling your shivers. Without it, you could see the rest of his outfit: a smart, well-fitting waistcoat gilded with gold sat atop a loose, ivory dress-shirt, a crimson cravat holding up the collar, black trousers tucked into leather boots that tapped softly against the cobblestones as you walked. He looked good, worryingly so. You could not help but to admire him unabashedly as you reached the towpath. Flicking his gaze from the river to you, he stifled a grin, watching your eyes roam across him without restraint.

“It’s quite the view, is it not?” He asked, glancing back across the river where the reflections of the golden streetlights, twinkling stars, and dazzling full moon danced on the ripples. Soft, quiet wingbeats appeared from behind as a heron flew low over the water, feet tickling the surface and sending up a fine spray. Idle couples wandered the path ahead, arms tucked into each other, heads close, whispering their secrets.

“Mmm…yeah…” Your voice was distant, distracted, and when he glanced back down he could not stop the amused smile from pulling his lips upwards to find your eyes still fixed on him, hovering somewhere between his neck and clavicle. He leaned in close, lowering his head to murmur into your ear.

“You’re not even looking,” he teased in a hushed tone, relishing in the blush that erupted across your cheeks and nose at both the proximity and his observation. You turned quickly to look across the river while he chuckled deeply and gently reached for your hand, tucking it into the crease of his elbow as you walked, forcing you both closer. He considered jesting a little more, but decided against it, instead content to watch the way the reflection of the ethereal lights danced in your eyes.

The minutes passed in a comfortable quiet as you walked together up the path, the warmth of Raphael’s body at your side keeping the cold at bay. You pondered on the events that had unfurled this evening, curious as to why he never brought up the topic of the contract. You had assumed that was the whole point of the entire charade; charm and subdue you into signing it, but he had not mentioned it once thus far, and you had to wonder why. Could it be that he simply enjoyed your company, and wished to spend time with you?

Ha! What a foolish thought.

You silenced that line of thinking, aware of the dangers it presented. Raphael was not only charming in his very nature, but well-practiced at it too. He was specially designed and crafted to tempt mortals like yourself, he made a living out of it. If you were in any way special to him, it was only because of the position you had found yourself in, the chance to procure the object of his deepest desires just within your reach. It took a great deal of effort to remind yourself of this.

Should you sign that contract and complete the deal, your business with the devil would be finished. Would you see him again after that? You had no idea.

“I understand your craving for power, by the way,” you heard yourself saying, apparently unable to let the evening end without touching on the unspoken topic. “I crave it too.”

Raphael looked down at you, regarding you with an honest curiosity, intrigued at both your willingness to address the subject and your admission. You were not the type to pursue something as grand as world domination, you did not seek to subjugate and overrule. From what he had learned of your nature, you sought the opposite.

“May I ask, what for?” He asked, footsteps slowing down slightly.

You peeked out of the corner of your eye to look at him, considering your words.

“I just…one day, I want to be so powerful that I no longer fear anything at all.” You admitted quietly, ashamedly, turning you gaze towards the celestial glow of the moon.

Fear was not something he inherently associated with you. Throughout your adventure you had shown faultless courage, arguably foolish bravery in the face of some very dire circumstances, rushing into deadly battles with a fierce determination to emerge victorious.

“What is it that you fear, little mouse?”

You both came to a stop, your hand slipping from his grasp as you approached the stone wall, resting your arms against the cool bricks and staring out across the river to the bank opposite.

“These days, losing control of my own mind.” You answered as he joined you, only a sliver of a gap between your bodies. There was a look in your eye, you had left something unsaid, but implored him to understand what you meant. You were not just talking about the imminent ceremorphosis should your task fail, you were worried about being manipulated into making decisions you otherwise would not make. By the Emperor, by your friends, by him. “As well as the usual, of course. Losing those I love, my home coming to ruin, dying a painful death…the standard stuff.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and leaned in a little closer.

“You know, I am sure we could work something out. If I were to acquire the crown and all the power it bequeaths, I could protect you and those you hold dear. We could flesh out the terms in the details of your contract.”

You chuckled a little, smiling.

“I’ll consider it.”

The hour was growing late and your eyelids heavy. After watching you stifle several yawns and rub at your eyes like a weary infant, Raphael suggested calling it a night. Despite how nice it would be, he could not stay here forever with you – he still had other business to attend to, besides yours. Other clients to check up on, other contracts to draft. The work, unfortunately, did not stop just because he had.

As before, you took a firm hold of the arm he offered to you, bracing yourself for the unsteady feeling of racing through time and space. You were relieved to find it was not as bad as the first instance, and you appeared before the Elfsong Tavern without even a wobble. The streets were still littered with people milling about, coming and going from their evenings, some walking rather precariously.

With a sigh you went to remove your grip from the devil and jumped only slightly when Raphael’s hand enclosed around your smaller one, turning you to face him as you watched, unsure. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a slow, intentional, tender kiss to the backs of your fingers, closing his eyes as he did, giving your hand an almost imperceptible squeeze before returning it to you with an expression on his face that seemed to suggest it pained him to do so. You felt your throat tighten at the unexpected gesture, not sure what to say. Luckily, he spoke first.

“Thank you, little mouse, for entertaining me this evening. It has been a truly illuminating experience.”

“Likewise. Thank you for the dinner, I had a good time.”

“I am very glad to hear it. Take care, I’ll see you soon.” With a small nod he turned on his heels and headed towards Wyrm’s Crossing. You watched for a moment, almost until he was out of sight, curious as to why he chose to walk instead of just vanishing into the air like usual. You wondered whether he would look back at you, wondered whether you wanted him to. He did not. At least, not until you had turned away and already ducked into the tavern.

It was not until Astarion, lounging amongst the cushions on the floor of the room with a book in hand as the others slept, gave you a peculiar look as you entered, tilting his head curiously that you realised any hope of your activities of the evening remaining your little secret were well and truly toasted. You groaned inwardly, silently cursing the devil and wondering if this was in his plan all along. How you were going to talk yourself out of this one, you had no idea. You were literally wearing the evidence.

Raphael’s coat sat perfectly atop your shoulders still, and the fabric reeked of cherries and musk, leaving no doubt as to who it belonged to, who you had spent your ‘date’ with.

Astarion gave you a shit-eating grin, eyes sparkling with intrigue as he snapped the book shut.

“Tell me everything.”

[chapter seven]

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 raphael x reader #bg3 raphael x tav #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #baldur's gate 3 #reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert #fem reader #raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #raphael the #sekiromi #a devil you do

[happy-lemon]

No Rules Legacy - Favorite Generational Gameplay

The margin between one and ten was really, really slim. I loved this legacy from start to finish, and there were no boring generations for me. I especially loved exploring parts of the game I'd never tried before. This is a long one, so 👇

GENERATION 6 - I'd never really explored the equestrian aspects of the Pets EP, and playing with Alexandra and Buran brought out my latent inner horse girl in a big way.

GENERATION 8 - I'd also never tried the singer career of Showtime (or really any of Showtime tbh) and there was no better sim to guide the way than Fable Solomon. Pairing her with a hot former Grim Reaper was also fun, but helping her become a pop sensation was a blast.

GENERATION 1 - Nara got the legacy off on a wild foot with all her university shenanigans. Because I typically pair my OC sims with Jeffery Dean, I really wanted her to end up with Jacob Salaman, but he was the literal worst. Still, it was fun to watch their lust-hate relationship implode. And Jeffery got the girl in the end.

GENERATION 3 - Daisy wins the prize for making me laugh the hardest at any gameplay ever. All I wanted was for her to have three kids with three guys and then choose one as a spouse. Instead, she had two sets of twins and two more kids with the three guys. And the best of them hated children. Her generation was pure chaos every second and I loved it.

GENERATION 7 - The subplot with resurrecting Anna was me, trying to write myself out of a corner, and it was bonkers. But Keahi raising Fable on his own was incredibly special. And maybe some of my best writing. IDK.

GENERATION 2 - Kana and Noel's outdoor lot was my first attempt at off-grid play and it was great fun. I loved their relationship, loved watching Noel rise through the ranks at the restaurant, and Kana was the cutest little pregnant mama I've ever seen.

GENERATION 10 - Despite kind of rushing it at the end because my save was so unstable, Dylan's generation was great. I loved giving him a lifelong friend group at college and exploring all the different ITF futures, which I'd never really done before.

GENERATION 9 - Scuba diving is my absolute favorite in-game activity and it was really great to see the diving career through to the end for once, and Mara loved diving more than anything.

GENERATION 4 - I hadn't ever gone beyond casual nectar making, so that was pretty cool. In achieving her lifetime wish, Noelle made a LOT of wine, so I sold off most of it as the generations progressed. But Dylan still has one bottle of every nectar she made and some of them are worth a small fortune.

GENERATION 5 - Poor Mateo didn't really have a lot to do. It took him almost no time at all to collect the minor pets, and because he was a loner, having an actual job stressed him out. He was happy spending time with his family and it was lovely, even though it wasn't the most exciting gameplay.

#ts3 #ts3 legacy #sims 3 #sims 3 legacy #no rules extras

[bijoumikhawal]

Ds9 game head canons

Fuyå

Fuyå /ˈfujɑ/ is an originally Hebitian game, also called fuj, played on a circular board with a (typically molded) coil shaped surface. In the grooves of the coil are holes for sticking the game pieces into; these are pins about the length of a pointer finger, often with a decorative head. The board itself is often made to look like a wompat, lemur, viper, or other long bodied creature that has curled up.

The simplest and most common way of using the board is to have two different groups of pins and have the players roll dice, spin a top, draw cards, etc to see how many holes they can progress, and to have landing in an occupied hole knock that piece out of play, with a final point score based on how many pieces reach the center (or "head") of the board. Some games also incorporate a return journey, with the player that reached the center gaining some form of extra ability, such as a reroll they can use, or the reclamation of any pieces lost during the first portion of the game.

More complex games are played on the board as well, but it is often dismissed as childish play. More than two players are possible as well. During the Bajoran occupation, fuyå game boards ceased being made with animal decorations as part of the Union's campaign to create a sense of unity (read: cultural assimilation and memory holing). Being of Hebitian origin, the animals often portrayed and very shape of the board have cultural significance.

Memutse

Memutse /memuʦe/ is a Cardassian game, now mostly played for superstitious reasons. Despite Cardassian scoffing at Bajoran religion, a great deal of spirituality and superstition is present in Cardassian society (quasi-deification of the state as part of civil religion, belief in souls and their cleansing), chief of which for this game is the Cardassian interest in astrology and fate.

The game is played on a long box, with each of the 4 sides having a slightly different surface. Each surface is divided in a 3 by 9 grid, resulting in a total of 27 spaces on each surface, and 108 total on the box- the same number as the culturally significant Cardassian constellations. Unsurprisingly, each spot on the board corresponds to a constellation. Many boxes also have a mechanism allowing the box to be laid out flat to facilitate different games to be played. Deciding which side to play is determined by spinning a teetotum, which is often manufactured to make a noise as it spins, or by the birth kashmim ("season") of the individual in single player games. The specifics of the noise are often taken into account when using the game for fortune telling. Each player has 6 game pieces.

Memutse originally designed for two players, but if often played solitary when used for fortune telling. When played by two for that purpose, one player is typically an "administrator", a fortune teller who offers their services in interpretation. A common claim is that their presence during the game increases the accuracy of a reading of its results, or the likelihood that the person seeking a reading will have good fortune- hence the presence of two player games. When played by two, the players start from one end of the board, spinning the teetotum. With each successful spin, they can either add a game pieces on the board or move their game piece. Landing on the same spot bumps a game piece back to start and certain spots are considered safe zones. The end row presents 3 different ending tiles which are determined by a spin, not by choice. In play the tiles have different point values, with the center being the most valuable.

Each tile the player lands on is noted, as are the values of the teetotum spins. This information is then used to make an assessment of their future; this can either be for the person playing's general future, for a specific question, or on the behalf of another person.

Taking money as a fortune teller is very legally dubious on Cardassia; the game is too popular to be outright banned, but administrators either advertise themselves as hired for their companionship, or are paid through indirect means such as food or clothing. Most tea houses, gelat houses, and the like have at least one group of people playing a game at them, and most have at least one fortune teller sitting around who has an agreement with staff to turn a blind eye. Many simply play the game at home alone and try to interpret the results on their own.

Tops are well known to both Cardassians and Hebitians, but how they're used differs a bit. The older Hebitian usage of tops is to use them for battling games and having then try to knock each other over; Cardassian tops are more often teetotums, and have flat sides with assigned values based on how they land. Both usages have long cross pollinated. When needing a random number, Hebitians used dice or throwing sticks before they used tops. More complex games developed around creating many different types of throwing sticks, not dissimilar to dominoes.

Kaimra

Kaimra is a Bajoran card deck. It has 84 cards, with 6 suits, 10 numbered cards, and 24 "independent" face cards. The face cards include cards based off of religious ranks, folk heroes, and cultural archetypes. Half the suits are "weak" with an inverted order, lower values beating higher. These will be marked by the color of the pips, background, or border, with the colors used varying by region. The most popular colors are green for weak and orange for strong.

Typically the suits are harps, wheels, leaves, candles, arrows, and crowns. Traditionally the former 3 are strong and the latter 3 are weak.

Imrale

Imrale is a Bajoran capture based game, whose name translates to cavalry. The board is diamond or X shaped, with a 4 point grid laid out on it, making a series of repeating triangles.

Each player gets 10-14 game pieces (depending on the size of the board), commonly shaped like chariots. The pieces are set out at the four corners of the board, and each can move two spaces in any direction. The object of the game is to get to one side and back, capturing as many of the opponents pieces as possible, while retaining your own pieces. A piece can be captured if it has two of the opponent's pieces on either side of it.

A variation involves one of each players pieces being the "leader" (often designated by a crown attached to the piece). The "leader" can move up to 4 spaces, but can only move in straight lines (other pieces can make turns), and capture of the leader is an immediate game over.

Another game played on this board (called Veja, meaning Toads) has one player get two pieces and the other player get 18. These can be the same pieces as used in the previous game, as one can repurpose the two "leader" pieces for "toad" pieces. The toad pieces can leap two squares, and the "cicada" pieces can only move one. The object of the game for the toad player is to capture as many cicada pieces as possible, and for the cicada player to trap the toad player by blocking off the grid so they can't jump, with jumps to an occupied spot being disallowed. The toad player starts from the center of the board, and all the cicada pieces are scattered in each corner.

#cipher talk #ds9 #Cardassians #Hebitians #Bajoran culture

[blysse-and-blunder]

In lieu of a week in the woods

sunday, august 27, 2023 ~ 11:30pm

just got back from 6+ days off the grid, swimming, drinking tea, porch sittin’, and generally revisiting old stomping grounds. somehow it still wasn’t long enough.

(you can add a read more on mobile now??!!)

Reading picked out some specific weird old trade paperbacks to read at the cottage, and successfully finished one: margaret atwood’s lady oracle. one of those books where I will be thinking about it forever, but not necessarily because I enjoyed it? good prose moments, good turns of phrase or moments of clear perception, but i found the main character sort of perplexing—the bits of old Toronto, vintage mid century canadian childhood and adolescence, were probably what will stick with me. That and the way that I think it was trying to get psychonanalytic but, in classic 80s feminist fiction style, it didn’t make a ton of sense. also the fatphobia? like, experimenting with the pov of someone with intense body dysmorphia / weight shaming / internalized fatphobia felt unempathetic? like i was supposed to be impressed or titillated or surprised by this choice, that the book would even consider having a main character who was fat. period typical, sure, part of the mid century setting, sure, but also like. gratuitous.

also finished italo calvino’s the baron in the trees, and a.k. larkwood’s the unspoken name, and started the audiobook for the long way to a small angry planet. Also began my harrow the ninth reread, and wow this book is good. and even more so when you can follow what’s happening.

listening only the fact that I did spend so long literally in the woods has prevented me from having in-depth thoughts and feelings about hozier’s unreal earth. more to come as I sit with it longer, but so far—strong positive feelings. some new ground, some old ground, and some things that bridge the two nicely. worth listening to with headphones or however you can pick up all the layers in the mix. I really like ‘Icarian carrion’ on this listen.

watching watched a couple of episodes of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds this evening, since being back— ‘lost in translation,’ and the lower decks cross-over. loved seeing boimler and mariner in the flesh, and the different gags they fit into that one, despite the fact that one of the things I’ve liked most about this season has been the show gradually giving time to some of the more philosophical questions trek can explore—but lower decks does that too, sometimes better, and these two episodes back to back fit pretty well.

playing it was a very boardgame forward week at the cottage— clue, PARKS, and a new one for me, shadows over Camelot. not an uncomplicated setup, but some of the tie-ins to actual arthurian themes (the grail quest keeps pulling players in but it will grind them up and spit them out! the next generation are the ones who survive!) caught and held my enjoyment when the different mechanics threatened to lose it. I also tuned in to d&d remotely for a bit, though my connection was bad, and my rig was rated ‘haunted’ by the other players. they could hear crickets over the voice chat 😌🌲

making sewed a new patch onto my jacket and moved another two—picture to follow. didn’t do any of the mending I brought, but have had thoughts about what makes sense and what I might buy to supplement the projects. new fabric store on my commute deserves a visit, methinks.

working on truly the answer here is ‘not overthinking or delaying out of perfectionism’. which I have already done. finished all but the last eng 385 essay feedback, finished proofing for joe and responding to the department’s newsletter person for the piece she’s writing; still have to finish this letter of recommendation and these two (2!?) chapter drafts. the point is to be able to write a final sentence and just. let them go. learn how to not stop shy of finishing something. learn how to bring something (anything) to a state of some kind of completion. sure, right. sure.

if you need me, I’ll be back in the woods.

#in lieu of a commonplace book #weekly roundup #ilcb

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Heart Shaped Box

Author: mittens

Artist: Marvfortytwo

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, implied Rowena/Eileen/Sam

Length: 43200

Warnings: canon-typical violence, flashbacks to past canonical trauma

Tags: post-canon everyone lives, case fic, human cas, everyone uses their words, love confessions

Posting Date: October 6, 2022

Summary: The bunker is full of dusty old artifacts. Only now that Chuck is out of the picture once and for all, and Cas is fully restored from the empty and in his first days of adjusting to humanity in Dean’s debatable care does Sam really have a chance to start sorting through it all. The ornate little box he finds feels like the perfect gift for Eileen, but he both wants Cas to feel included and needed, and really wants a strong second opinion on anything in the bunker being safe to give anyone as a gift. Cas declares it a perfectly normal box, until Dean reaches out to give it his own inspection, triggering a spell that will pull them through their own history and open a door to allow them the time and space to settle all the open questions between them. Meanwhile back in the bunker, once the explosion of light resolves, Sam is left with a slightly radioactive looking box and the sinking terror that Dean and Cas had been cursed all because of him. A little trip down memory lane, Supernatural style, ensues.

Excerpt: “I believe this may have been made by the original owner of your dressing gown.” Dean frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. He looked as if he wanted to argue with Cas’s description of his robe, but couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. “Yeah, and? Probably means it’s just something he left lying around the place and it got tossed into storage like my robe did.” Dean cautiously unfolded himself, leaning forward to take a closer look at the box. “He didn’t leave anything inside it, did he?” Sam frowned at that. “Uh, no? Just the velvet lining glued to the wood.” Dean gave the box a disappointed little nod, almost as if he’d been hoping there may have been some secret treasure hidden inside, or some further insight into the man who’d once worn his robe. He took a deep breath and finally glanced up at Cas with a reassuring and trusting smile. Cas couldn’t help but smile back. It felt like an olive branch after their interrupted conversation, and gave him hope that he’d eventually have the chance to explain himself to Dean. All they really needed was time and space to lay everything out plainly to clear the air between them. “Well, if Cas says it’s not cursed, and you can’t find anything in the records about it, then it’s probably just a box. I hope Eileen likes it,” Dean said, reaching to pick up the box from where it rested between Cas’s hands on the table to hand it back to Sam. As he laid his hand on it, though, the carved roses vanished, replaced by a sliding grid of pieces rearranging themselves into an indecipherable puzzle. “Sam, I think my original assessment may have been premature,” was all Cas had time to say before the room was swallowed by a dazzling burst of light. Sam had flung an arm across his face to shield his eyes from the blinding flash, and slowly lowered it only when the light began to fade. Dean and Cas had vanished. All that remained was the box, now gently glowing like the light of a television screen, flickering and flaring like it was trying to resolve itself into an image and couldn’t quite get a clear signal. “Dean?” Sam called out hopefully. “Cas?” When he got no reply, he heaved a sigh and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Eileen. <<This is gonna sound bad, but I think I might need your help. You mind making our date a working dinner? I think I accidentally cursed Dean and Cas...

DCBB 2022 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2022 #fic preview #2022 promo #deancas #destiel

[another-shameless-fangirl]

Reap What Was Sown- Chapter 1

Super excited to do my first ever Invisobang event! Please enjoy my minibang and go follow my incredible artists @arisu-artnfics and @saxonroa immediately.

Huge thanks to @amabsis for help and reading as I tortured them for months.

Archive of Our Own Link - Complete

Arisu's Post

Summary- Desperate to find their missing son, Jack and Maddie summon Phantom for help as the last one to see Danny alive. Their years of hatred for ghosts have come to a boiling point and Phantom is not cooperating. The hunters will have to try to convince the ghost to bring their son back to them by any means necessary.

Good or bad, at the end of the night, the family will have to reap what they have sown. Happy ending. Tags: Angst with a happy ending, fanon typical torture, no dissection, Danny wants to be Phantom full time, kinda suicidal thoughts if you think about it, electric shock torture, Danny gets a hug, there's a lot of hurting and yelling first though, some blood, No electric torture in the first 2 chapters.

“I don’t think this’ll work, Mads.”

“It has to, honey. If it doesn’t…” 

Neither of them filled the silence as work continued on the Fenton Summoning Grid. Jack soldered hot lead into place as Maddie checked that the Arduino was still in place in case it had burned out. She took her time scrutinizing the processor and where it connected to silver wiring. Her goggles whirled as she compared it to the schematics they had worked on furiously. Usually when they had a job like this they would lose themselves in it for days simply making up the time spent and only taking the time to document when significant discoveries and advancements were made. This time, the Fentons knew exactly how long this project had taken them and it was too long.

6 hours, 37 minutes since the moment they had started to sketch the outline.

She pointed to a spot where the silver lines had melted. Her eyes traced where they had run the initial current and not calibrated the regulator leaving some of the fine lines smoking puddles. Jack followed to lay new silver down. It would still work a little smudged in theory but they couldn’t take the risk. She moved on until she was satisfied.

This needed to work. 

The setup was based on older techniques for communicating with the dead. It was inspired by primitive practice, but what laid in the center of the lab floor was propelled well into the 21st century with technology. Instead of a pentagram, a complex geometric array was painted on the floor and they had opted to use conductive ink instead of blood to mark their intent. The intricate lines and arrays drawn on the floor would bend the energy in the universe to their will. 

Normally there was a sacrifice, an animal or sometimes a human was used in more primitive versions but here they would use what they've learned of the paranormal to do wonders with science instead of blood. The electrical impulses would be provided by wires and circuitry rather than lifeforce and what had long been rumored to be souls. 

Finished with the wiring at last, Jack plugged the computer in. Energy flowed through the conduit and lit up the floor illuminating the two circles. Electricity hummed showing off the delicate designs of the protective summoner’s circle under his feet that started a green glow. A mere meter away, another circle glowed with a similar, if lighter glow. Imbued with the silver, the lines more efficiently carried the charge.  The current was carrying 15 amps at 600 volts. The baseboard was insulated and oriented along the north-south magnetic access and if their calculations were correct, the attractor node would only work on a scale-7 entity instead of just the closest ghost. 

The hunters moved closer both moving inside the summoner's circle together checking the shield. It had been attached to a heavy base built between the protection circle and the summoning grid in case the containment failed. 

They willed it not to fail. 

If they had time, they could guarantee it succeeded. If they had luck, it would be the right scale-7 entity that appeared and they could finally get some information instead of running around in circles while the police did nothing.

 If they just had more time, they could have set it up with lasers for precision and done tests on what little samples they had from the ghost. If they could just hone in on its ecto signature and summon it specifically, could contain it and get answers but they couldn't risk taking that time. 

The first 48 hours were the most critical and they had missed it. Their only option was to go outside the box and into the circle.

Jack looked at his wife as she pressed a button on her hood, ready to fight if the field did not hold. If whatever ghost they did manage to catch found a flaw in their tech and tried to escape because they didn’t have any more time, had wasted that precious window, they would neutralize it and try again and again and again. 

The couple adjusted their stances keeping behind the shield. Everything was in place.

“Ready?” He asked putting his hand over the switch that would allow power to flow into the grid and activate. A tear in the universe would rip right there, drag the being out of its dimension and hold it. It had to hold it. 

They would use the grid over and over if they had to. They would keep rebuilding the fuses and rewire whatever burned out and draw in that intricate design if the ink deteriorated. They would rebuild it again and again until they succeeded even if they had to try all night. They might have to. 

Maddie bit her lip and stared at the grid evaluating it. Her mind, whirling at a million miles an hour, went over the materials, the precautions, the adjustments and what if it wasn’t sufficient? What if it failed? It couldn't. Her eyes narrowed. 

“It isn’t strong enough, is it?” 

Jack sighed and shook his head. “We could test it out? I’ve got an idea about using some-”

“We don’t have time to theorize any more,” Maddie snapped. “We need results, now.” She stepped out of the circle and Jack removed his hand from the switch just in case. The scientist, the mother stalked to the counter and ripped open the first aid kit. She took a lancet from the kit and ripped her glove off with her teeth as her husband followed but it was too late for him to even react. She ripped the sterile packaging apart and with no hesitation and stuck her ring finger on the side of the tip. She hissed then threw the lancet in the direction of the sharps bin. Maddie whirled around holding her hand steady. Her eyes narrowed at the apparatus. 

“Hurry!” She demanded and Jack steeled himself. Adding blood to the mix could do several things. It was a traditional way of completing the circuit, grounding it to the human observer but those were stories. In the stories, the blood had worked but the actual how-to were only theories that had no scientific backing and if they just had time-

But they didn’t. 

Maddie dashed back to the circle. Jack took hold once again of the switch as Maddie stood barely inside of the circle at the edge just beyond the shield. She squeezed her finger causing the red point to swell and grow. 

"Now!" She flicked her hand once and a red bead of blood flung into the grid as Jack hit the switch.

Energy hummed. The single bead of blood flew over the grid then stopped. Ozone began to taint the air and the blood hovered as it caught in the buzzing field. A perfect circle, it drifted to the middle of the grid and hung under the lights while the ink on the floor glowed with electricity. The hair on the back of Jack’s neck stood on end. Overhead the lights flickered. 

Something was coming. 

They braced behind the failing wall. Ozone and iron tinged the air and a sharpness stung at their eyes even through the goggles. Something shimmered in the middle of the grid dragging up and through the floor. Power buzzed both electric and ectoplasmic combining to light up the circuitry and Jack could only pray that the processor held. Then as if reality had snapped into place, the space changed and it was no longer empty, but no longer holding that single drop of blood.

There in the middle of the grid, safely in the containment, was Phantom. 

Green eyes darted back and forth taking in its surroundings. It had been here before, they knew it had. It froze recognizing its surroundings. For a moment no one said anything, too shocked that it had worked and they were able to hold Phantom still at last. It jerked in the direction of the stairs but was halted by the grid, contained successfully. 

They didn’t need to celebrate, didn’t need to contemplate what the addition of blood meant and if it had meant success or not. Jack opened his mouth to speak but the words dried on his tongue. 

The ghost spun to face them so quickly, unnaturally fast. Its eyes were always so expressive, so big and bright and full of power. When it saw them, it straightened and glared at them. 

“Are you kidding me? It’s 2am!”((Or should I stick with “You. What do you want?”))) It complained baring its fangs but not quite threatening to use them yet. The hunters stiffened but stayed calm. They had anticipated anger. Phantom wasn’t used to being locked up and with that power level, it was a feat that they could hold it at all. 

Maddie straightened to look at the ghost behind the barrier.

Phantom’s physical form had not changed since first appearing in Amity Park those years ago. Silver hair, that black and silver outfit, the youthful face and green eyes that held less life and more feral emotion than a real human child could show. 

“We’re not going to hurt you, Phantom.” She started firmly and immediately got a dismissive laugh.

“Yeah. And I’m running for mayor.” The sarcastic sense of humor was still present when under stress. Phantom could be charming which was probably why the ghost was so popular with the impressionable youth.

“We have questions and you’re going to answer them.” Jack’s stern voice got it to frown and put away those awful teeth. 

“Why would I talk to you? Or do I not have a choice?” Phantom asked as it reached out to experimentally poke at the invisible walls. The grid held without even flickering. It frowned deeper and Jack could practically see the gears turning as the ghost tried to put together the pieces and figure out how to escape. Phantom floater higher but jolted back as its head bumped against something about 9 feet up crushing the hair before hitting where the skull should be.

“Because we’re willing to make you a deal." Jack said with a low, authoritative voice. "Anything you want in exchange for information.” He declared and Phantom didn’t even spare them a glance. It floated down head first to check out the symbols drawn on the floor. 

“Sure. It was Professor Plum in the Dining Room with the Lead Pipe. I’ll take a check or credit card.” So sarcastic, so irritating. Maddie snapped at him, lashing out with that worried anger lacing it with desperation.

“Anything! Free passage between here and the ghost zone any time you want,” she gestured behind them where the portal had been locked up tight. “We’ll add you to the genetic lock somehow, get you a key,  something, then you can come and go as you please!” This way the ghost boy didn’t have to wait for natural portals to appear or hide in the human world conserving its energy. Unless provoked, Phantom wasn’t dangerous but offering it access to the Ghost Zone, to the endless energy it needed to keep its strength up, that would change how it operated in Amity Park. It was a risk, but what choice did they have? 

Phantom blinked at that and looked up at the two past the shielding.  “That’s a little hilarious actually.” Its smile tightened. “Why would I wanna come here? This town hates me.”

Jack’s stomach dropped. Did the creature not understand what it was being offered? 

His jaw tightened as he tried another approach.. “You know that’s not true. You’re powerful, popular, and this whole town has been under your domain since we were taken to the zone a few years ago,” he insisted. “You claimed this territory.”

Phantom slowly twirled in the limited space allowed righting itself. “Maybe I’m giving it back,” it drawled lazily and ice crawled down Jack’s arms. “Even if I wanted to stay, I can just come and go as I please anyway. Great offer. What do you want?” 

Maddie stepped forward, nose almost pressing against the shield. Her voice lowered steady and serious even as every muscle in her body tightened.

“We saw you that day. We know you’re the last one to see Danny, our Danny. We need to know where he is.” 

Phantom looked at them for a long moment and Jack’s arms prickled, goosebumps rising as the boy appraised them blankly. No emotion, nothing appropriate for such an impassioned plea anyway.

As if the ghost was guarding it’s expression instead of just forgetting to project one, it asked,

“What’s it to you?”

“He’s our son!” Maddie snarled and Phantom blinked. In a horrible moment, an expression formed and a smile grew. It was wrong. It didn’t look happy, it looked tight and forced and so very wrong.

“So you really care about him, huh? It’s been what, 4 days? 5?”

59 hours since they reported him missing. They wrote the time at the top of the police report with a shaky pen. They had tried to remember, to guess and approximate but they couldn’t tell the investigator exactly when they had last actually seen their son. 

It had been 11 hours since the same officer had told them there were no leads.

Jack had gone light-headed as the police had explained that they had tried. There was only so much the authorities could do. The first 48 hours of a missing child case were the most crucial and it was possible they had missed the window completely if Danny had been abducted over the weekend. 

Maddie had stormed out of the precinct when they suggested he had just run away or was simply hiding out. A 17-year-old boy was prone to leaving on a whim. There was nothing to prove one way or another Danny didn’t just go to a concert for the week or on a trip with his oddly quiet friends. What if he just went to see his sister at Yale and forgot to tell them? They had called Jazz immediately but she calmly told them that Danny was probably fine. She hadn’t heard from her brother but was very quick to get off the phone with them once she got the news. She was probably trying to keep calm, trying to call his phone which only went to voicemail every time they called it.

As the hunters drove back to the house, they had come to a conclusion. Danny would never run away, never leave without telling them. Sure he had been more withdrawn from them, but that’s what teenagers did. They didn’t see him as much since Fenton Works was always working on new patents and Danny was always doing some kind of after school activity or overnight study. The poor boy was always so tired when they actually saw him at the breakfast table. 

That was why they had to look for him themselves. Something had happened to their boy. Sweet, clumsy little Danny was somewhere helpless and afraid. That was why they went home and went straight to the lab, working all night on something that would summon them their only hope, a witness.

Maddie’s dry throat worked before she opened her mouth.

“Please.” Desperation leaked into her voice but that only caused the smile to grow.

“Please what? You wanna know what’s up with Danny Fenton and then you’ll let me go?” Phantom almost sounded amused behind the humming wards and summoning grid. 

Jack’s hands tightened into fists and Maddie slammed her hand against the green shielding. The sound was dull in the tense quiet and she cried,

“You tell us where he is right now, you creep!”

That terrible smile morphed until those fangs poked out. The expression was so wrong on that young face.

“Easy,” Phantom chirped and for a moment, they believed they would finally have an answer. Their boy was safe. Somewhere warm and dry, fed and ready to come home. 

But that smile grew,

“Danny Fenton is dead.”

And Jack and Maddie Fenton’s heart dropped at once.

Art by @arisu-artnfics Thank you thank you thank you!!!

#invisobang 2022 #ASF Writes #ASF Wrote a Thing #Danny Phantom #Danny Phantom Fanfiction #Fan Art #So thrilled right now #links #ao3

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

Tag Game for Historical Simblrs! 📖

1. What has been your favourite time period to play in or which one are you most excited for?

The Anglo Saxon era has been my favourite so far. The thrill of working to build Kennedi up to the chief of her own Queendom was very fun.

2. Do you have a favourite piece of historical cc? (CAS or BB)

BB - I don’t know if ‘favourite’ is the right word, but I really value the CC toilets. Having my sims pee/poop in a historically accurate looking toilet somehow really helps with my immersion!

CAS - basically every historical style dress that @sifix has made

3. Who is your favourite sim currently?

I’m very early into playing the Second Estate of the Medieval era so I don’t have one for that Estate yet. Of the Medieval era as a whole, William hands down. 

4. What is your favourite world?

I really like Brindleton Bay, but my most used is definitely Henford-on-Bagley.

5. Are you more gameplay or story focused?

I’m going to say gameplay because that is what I use to create the story, but I do enjoy trying to thread together all the little gameplay moments into an enjoyable narrative. 

6. Do you like to play with pets in your historical saves?

The Second Estate of the Medieval era is the first time I’m doing it and, I have to say... I’m not a fan so far.

7. What’s your biggest immersion breaking pet peeve with the game? 

Townies not being dressed historically. I do periodically go through and dress all the adults, but I can never be bothered with the children or younger and over time I end up with sims walking around in the typical modern, hideous Townie fashion. If anyone knows how to use MCCC or any other mod to get townies to dress themselves historically, please let me know!

8. What’s your favourite in-game historical item? (CAS or BB)

CAS - The Outdoor Retreat outfit for men and women is very useful.

BB - woodworking table to make chairs, tables, bathtubs, toilets etc.

9. What would you like to see as a new pack or asset to the game?

I need to think hard about this one... and I'm drawing a blank

10. What pack do you think is invaluable as a historical simmer?

Expansion pack - Cottage Living

Game pack - Outdoor Retreat

Stuff Pack - Laundry Day

11. Do you have a favourite mod to enhance historical gameplay?

Ye Olde Cookbook kit by @littlbowbub

12. What’s your ideal family size for playing?

My preferred is 4, but I spend most gameplay with 8 because of how many goals require that many sims.

13. Do you use poses?

I used to a lot, but now I only use poses when I cannot find an in-game animation that suitably captures what I am trying to achieve.

14. Do you use any overrides in your game?

Yes. My favourite is by @simverses and is basically an override for all the outfits of the NPC roles - maid, butler, gardener, mailman, bartender etc. It helps with immersion SO much.

15. Do you, or did you, play off-the-grid during your game?

Yes. The challenge required me to for the Iron Age, Roman Britain and some of Anglo Saxon era.

16. What lifespan do you play on?

Normal life span. I wish I could fiddle and make old age much longer, but the the challenge doesn’t allow messing with lifespans.

17. What inspired you to start playing a historically?

Short answer - finding a Sims Forum thread about the History Challenge and then falling down a very deep rabbit hole that ended up with me creating a simblr account.

Thank you for the tag @aheathen-conceivably and @taanoir!

I tag @shelbycompanylimitedd @soulful-simmer just because they haven’t posted their historical stories in a while and I miss them :)

#simblr ask game

[eldritchwyrm]

continuing my btvs semi-liveblog

season 4 episode 3 ("the harsh light of day")

"SHE LEFT HIM FOR A FUNGUS DEMON" ASDHFAKSDJFKASHDFKAHSDFKJASDFJ AKSJDFKALSJDJ ASDJFAKSJD KASJD F

the way spike just BOOKS IT out of the club. iconic. outstanding. no notes

"i'm waiting to see if i freckle" no one is doing it like him

season 4 episode 4 ("fear, itself")

halloween episode !

giles has a chainsaw

giles. he has a chainsaw. contemplating this

season 4 episode 5 ("beer bad")

oh we love a bubbling beaker. we love a set of bubbling beakers. we love an intricate web of multicolored bubbling beakers while scary high pitched music plays

cave? men? cavemen?

...

cavemen.

any episode where xander is the nominal hero / save-the-day guy is automatically just so perfectly beautifully stupid, i love it

GILES IS WEARING GILES-LIKE CLOTHES AGAIN. thank god. not that i didn't appreciate the extremely divorced dad look, but it's just not healthy when a giles isn't wearing a blazer or a suit. it's a sign the giles terarrium is misaligned. it's not proper care and feeding of your giles.

season 4 episode 6 ("wild at heart")

why is every other episode about romantic jealousy and romantic insecurity. i understand this type of jealousy is an emotion that other humans experience but i literally never have. my personal problems are flavored much differently. is it really so ubiquitous that EVERY OTHER episode can realistically be about relationship jealousy? like? how does your brain not explode from that? simply cannot relate. it feels like these storylines move in circles, never actually progressing.

the daylight campus scenes are lit realistically and they really do look like an actual UC campus omfg...

i s2g every season they completely change their mind about what a werewolf looks like asdfhasdjfaksdjfkajskfjkasdfkjasdkfjaksd fasj they're really just throwing darts at a dartboard here

the director chickened out of showing the naked post-transformation cross-campus scuttle, huh. just typical

at 19:03: i totally have willow's green fake leather pants

oz is being very silly.

looking at the stickers on the rear window of oz's van, i'm wondering what the characters' laptop stickers would look like in the age of personal computing

season 4 episode 7 ("the initiative")

so we open with several TAs -- well, at least one is a TA; i think the others might just be non-freshman undergrads? possibly? can't quite figure out how i'm supposed to read them -- talking about how they want to have sex with freshmen. freshwomen? i guess? i know that was a relatively normal thing to see on tv in 1998. feels weird today.

oh good, spike is back. he's been such a failguy this season and i'm honestly loving it

ORGANIZATION STORES MONSTERS IN A GRIDDED ARRAY OF WHITE CUBES! THAT'S MY #34th FAVORITE EXTREMELY NICHE SCI FI HORROR VISUAL TROPE!

i had a horror film professor who did a cool analysis of that visual schema in cabin in the woods (the mid-2010s film; unrelated to buffy except by genre) by talking about the collector-impulse and the "biggest crossover event ever" fannish pleasure-via-ordered-recognition you see in overdetermined franchise media like the mcu

okay i'm not explaining that well but in my defense this tumblr post is not a graded assignment

#small scream #btvs #liveblog