#you can always pick out a dutch person speaking english even if they are very good at it

[nimmee]

Here's part 4 of Nanamin Kento headcanons, because I can't stop writing and having so many ideas right now (I know my writer's block is gonna hit me soon so I'm trying to get as much as I can written out)

Enjoy 💙

32. Kento likes doing crosswords and Sudoku. (it makes sense)

33. Contrary to popular belief he actually has a lot of friends from different walks of life. And not the shallow friends but he has a close circle of friends he can rely on professionally and personally. ( I personally think that he spent most of his early school years in Japan but for a year or two he actually went to other countries as an international exchange student that would explain how he is fluent in French and English apart from Japanese, also Dutch because he has a Danish lineage. It would also explain why he has friends at powerful positions all around the world ). One of his international friends who is quite a respected designer in Italy actually tailors all his suits. Also, (bear with me on this) his maternal grandmother could have had the tiniest amount of usable cursed energy that she completely used up when she made little Kento those leopard print ties. She did it to bless him and protect him from curses. Which also explains why he uses his tie as a binder to his "overtime" vow and the left out fabric to wrap his blade. (As they say blessings are more stable and long lasting than curses)

34. Nanamin still visits Yu's sister and her family. He regularly visited her after Yu died and hence formed a brotherly bond. She is married and has a little boy. Her husband and Nanamin are really good friends too.

35. Kento had a pretty wholesome childhood being an only child from both the family lineage. He was dearly loved by all his grandparents. He was pretty close with all of them. (I'm listing off all of their professions and talents here:

Paternal grandmother - she is a calm and very gentle woman doesn't speak much. She has been a housewife all her life. Her talents include cooking comfort food, calligraphy and book binding, handicrafts and origami, flower arranging.

Paternal grandfather - he is a quiet man talks less but is the warmest man you could find. A tad bit Conservative but loves and accepts Nanamin's mom as his own daughter. He is a professional knife and sword maker. His talents include sword forging, sword wielding, knows a lot about fencing and swordsmanship, bonsai, gardening, fruit picking.

Maternal grandmother - she is calm but one fiesty and strong woman. She has always been a housewife. She and Nanamin's paternal grandmother are best friends. She is quick witted and knows her way out of any situation. She is very logical and a genius at finances. Her talents include sewing and knitting, all kinds of clothing making, managing finances, playing traditional musical instruments (she is a quick learner and masters any traditional musical instrument in few months) . Turns out she has very small amounts of cursed energy which she reverses to use as blessings and use to make good luck charms, headstrong, quick - wit.

Maternal grandfather - as we All know he is Danish. He is a warm happy man, talks a lot and loves to cook, very gentle and Kind . He was born in Denmark but his family moved to Japan due to his father's employment when he was 2. He is fluent in Japanese, Dutch and English. He has two professional culinary degrees one from Japan and another from France. He has received culinary training in Japan and then went to France for his internship. He is a professional chef and owns a Michelin star restaurant. His talents include cooking, baking, growing his own vegetables, miniature making in his leisure time, also loves puzzles. He is also a skilled butcher - he could easily cut open almost All kind of meat to properly portion the pieces.

Nanamin's Dad - is an Architect hence his interest in Architecture when he was younger. He Talks a lot even though his parents are quiet people. Headstrong and very responsible person. Absolutely loves his wife and her cooking. His talents include puzzle solving like Sudoku, he is a trained sowrds man because his father is, he has his own Katana. He makes hilarious comic strips, is a gifted painter and loves going through all kind of comics international or local.

Nanamin's mom - is a pastry chef and owns her own bakery. She is generally quiet can be very talkative with right people. She is soft and gentle but she is fiesty and headstrong when she needs to be. She takes to her father and is one of the warmest person you could find. She has the ultimate say when she and Nanamin's dad are arguing. Nanamin's dad complies most of time because she has the most logical and reasonable arguments. She did train to be a chef but chose baking because she likes deserts (reminds of the Baker lady from Kiki's Delivery service). Her talents include baking and cooking, making different kinds of healing tea (most probably she unconsciously uses tiniest amount of reversed cursed energy she inherited from her mother). She is genius at knitting and quilting, managing finances has always been a good forte for her, growing flowers and decorating has always been something she was naturally good at.

#kento nanami fluff #kento nanami #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanamin #jjk nanami #kento nanami headcanons #nanami angst #nanami headcanons #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x reader fluff #jjk manga #jjk imagines #jjk fic #jjk au #jjk #jjk 0 movie #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #jjk smut #jjkedit #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjba x reader

[copingchaos]

For the get to know me! 🔑 🌐 💕

🔑 Key to your heart: Tbh there are so many ways to earn a place in my heart, i'm one of those people who wears it on their sleeve. I'm just incredibly turned inward, so most people probably don't know how much they really mean to me.

🌐 Languages you can speak and/or are learning. Which are you fluent in: I'm fluent in english and dutch and that's about it. I might be able to speak and read/write a little german (high school course) and French (the least though).

💕 Your two top fave fictional characters:

Can the moon boys count as one because I simply cannot just pick 2 out of the 3? I might be a little in love with them im ngl. I see so much of myself in them and the weird thing is that somehow I love them for (or despite?) the very same traits I hate about myself. How does that work? Is it me projecting? bc if i was, then I should actually hate them right? Anyway it also helps that Oscar Isaac has a very pretty face. Who isn't crushing on this man?

Tony Stark. I don't per se see myself in him. I think what I really love about him, is that he's more than just how he tries to come across as. Not just the glib rich guy, overly confident and extravagant. He has a good heart. Tony is flawed and he might put up a mask of confidence, but he is traumatized by everything he went through. He just tries to not let it show. Even though deep down he faults himself for so much. He changed his life and was constantly trying to be a better person, risking his life for the greater good!, and there were people who begrudged him anyway. Yet he always kept going, trying to be a better person.

Anywayyyyy thanks for the ask Fen <333

#ask game

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

474 of 2023

Have you ever left your front door unlocked all night?

Our door locks automatically, you can't open it from the outside if you don't have a key.

Do you prefer cold or warm weather?

Warm, but not hot. I get cold easily, but I overheat easily, too.

The last advertisement you saw: What was it advertising?

Cat food, specifically Whiskas.

Do you prefer bar or liquid soap?

Liquid all the way. I find it hard to use bars these days, with a disabled hand. With liquid, I figured out long ago how to wash my hands properly.

Do you wear any perfumes / colognes on a regular basis?

Yup, every single day, and I probably abuse deodorants.

Do you have high or low self esteem levels?

Rather low, but it fluctuates.

When was the last time you listened to a song on repeat? What was the song?

Probably earlier this year, it was Szklanki by Young Leosia. Yup I love music in languages other than English.

How do you feel about being in the house alone?

Meh. But at least my husband comes back from work soon.

What was the last compliment you received?

I don't remember.

Do you like mint or orange flavored chocolate?

Orange, but chocolate is meh to me. Even though I live in the country that is known for their chocolate.

How often do you get spots? Like, pimples?

Rarely, and even if I do, there's never more than two at once.

Do you believe that when your ears burn someone is talking about you?

That's a common belief, and I still hold some sentiment to it.

Are you a good host when visitors come over or do you wish they’d leave?

I have time to prepare because the custom in my country says that it's impolite to just stop by, you have to announce yourself first.

When was the last time you burnt your mouth from eating something too hot?

Today, kind of. I bought hot chocolate in Starbucks and it was indeed hot :P

What is your favorite foreign language to listen to? (In music or speech)

I would say Dutch, but I'd be biased AND this is not a foreign language to me. I'm gonna go with Finnish.

Do you prefer instrumental songs or ones with lyrics?

It depends on my mood. There's always some soundtrack to my life, though.

Name something simple that makes you happy.

Sunrises and sunsets. And my cats purring.

What is your favorite instrument to listen to?

Cello. And piano, violin, or harp.

Pick one: Books, movies or music?

Only one? Music. But I love books, too, and I couldn't care less about movies.

Do you carry a bag around with you often? What does it look like?

I have a black backpack. I use two or three.

Do you like your natural hair color?

I hate it. I find it incredibly boring.

Do you delete your emails / texts often?

No. Probably I should, though. I only empty the spam folders.

What was the last book you read about?

About a girl who runs away from her house to look for her father.

What color are the walls in the room you’re in?

Light beige.

Did you dress up last Halloween? As what?

I don't even celebrate this crap.

Do you have any old friends who you still kinda speak to but it’s awkward?

I don't think so.

Name one of your favorite memories.

Only one? That would be hard.

Are you a polite person?

Most of the time, unless you deliberately get on my nerves.

When was the last time you used a quote from a movie in real life?

Never, I don't even care about movies.

Have you ever used a chat-up line that actually worked?

Yeah, "oei oei oei". Don't question it, it's Dutch.

Can you put your legs behind your head?

Probably, but I haven't tried in ages.

Do you forget things easily?

Yeah, very much so. My short-term memory is shit. At least my long-term memory is reat.

The last song you listened to: Did it have a male or female vocalist?

Female. Yeah Kim is trans and AMAB, but she's a woman.

Is the heating on in your house currently?

No, it'es still not necessary.

Do you often find toothpaste too minty?

All the time lol. At least it works.

Have you ever had braces? Do you need them?

No and probably yes.

Are you a subscriber to any magazines? Which?

I'm not. I do have a collection of old magazines, though.

What does your voice sound like? (Loud, quiet, high pitched, etc)

Like a teenage boy lol. Rather quiet, and sometimes raspy because of throat problems.

#survey #q&a survey #random survey

[red-dead-do-over246]

I love your writing!! Could you write something about Javier having a crush on reader and singing songs directed to her but she doesn't know bc its in spanish

Mi Canción Para Mi Amor

Javier refuses to tell you what his songs are about. Guess you’ll have to do this the hard way.

Javier has been acting strange lately. Well, stranger than normal. 

The man has been a lot more nice to you than to anyone else. Also, the other guys had begun to tease him. (You think you saw him punch Micah once). Not that you didn’t like the attention, you actually favored the company of Javier more than the others. He was actually quite charming under that rough exterior.

However, what really confused you is when he spoke Spanish. 

You couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying, and you know he does it just to get under your skin. That’s just a Javier thing to do.

Around the fire one time, Javier began to play his music like normal. Now, even though you don’t understand what he’s saying in the songs, they’re always very entertaining. However, this song seemed more quiet, more full of emotion, more directed towards...you.

He started to do this more often, more so when it was just you two by the fire. It was around this time that his behavior changed too.

“Y es por ti. Que late mi corazón. Y es por ti. Que brillan mis ojos hoy. Y es por ti. Que he vuelto a hablar de amor. Y es por ti. Que calma mi dolor...” Javier sung quietly by the fire, gently strumming his guitar. You casually looked up from your book only to make eye contact with him. You don’t know why, but it made you feel all shy inside. After he was finished, you asked, “What were you saying?”

He shook his head with a laugh: “Sorry Y/N, secret stays with speaker.”

You huffed slightly and picked your book back up till it was covering your face. You’ve tried asking him multiple times, and each time he refused to tell you or changed the subject. This bothered you because it felt like he was keeping some secret from you. Normally, he would try to teach you some Spanish words (you would always forget and feel bad). Now, he wouldn’t tell you the lyrics to some song.

You would have to take matters into your own hands. 

I mean, someone here has to understand that language.

You went to Arthur first (as always) to see if Javier told him anything. The poor cowboy laughed nervously and responded, “Sorry Y/N, but I can barley speak English.”

You nodded in understanding and he rode off to do some errand for Dutch. That was your next try. The gang leader read a lot, maybe he could help?

However, you caught Dutch at a bad time. A simple “I don’t know” turned into a big rant.

“How can I have time for ridiculous things like that when there are Pinkertons tailing us!? We need money, Y/N! So get out there and do your share! I have-” 

You left before he could finish which may result in some form of rage later, but you didn’t care at the moment (Hosea will save you). You tried Lenny, knowing the young man was also very book smart.

“Sorry Y/N, that kind of stuff just doesn’t interest me. Have you tried asking Javier?” He said kindly when you came up to him on guard duty. 

“Yes, he’s being so bizarre about it.” You told him. Lenny nodded in sympathy then shrugged his shoulders while giving you an “I’m sorry” look. You told him its fine and went to some other gang members. Mary-Beth couldn’t help you even though she really tried, John just gave you a dumb-founded look, Sean only knew swear words in the language (which didn’t help you), and Charles offered to help you find a book and learn it. 

It was evening when you plopped down by the fire in defeat. The only other person there was Micah, who was reading a newspaper with one leg crossed over the other. You stared at him, dreading to ask for him for help.

"Not gonna happen, sweetheart." He said without even looking at you. You swore under your breath and he laughed at your disappointment. A couple moments of silence passed till he sighed dramatically, put the newspaper in his lap, and looked at you.

"Listen Y/N, it ain't happening. What are you waiting for? The answer to just present itself to you?" He chuckled as he finished his statement and continued chuckling as he picked back up his newspaper and re-crossed his legs. You pouted and bit your tongue at a retort.

Suddenly, Hosea appeared in the light of the fire. He walked over to you and said, "Y/N, Dutch told me you needed help with some Spanish? If that's the case, I happen to know a few phrases and would be happy to help."

You grinned and nodded (Hosea to the rescue), then cast Micah a smug evil glare. He huffed and angrily opened the newspaper back to his face while stiffening his body posture.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wow...” You said with a red face after you and Hosea finished deciphering Javier’s words.

“He seems to like you a lot.” The old outlaw noted with a smile. You asked the man what you should do now that you know. Hosea simply put his hand on your shoulder and said the decision on what to do with this knowledge was ultimately yours.

So you went to find Javier.

You found him near the scout campfire fiddling with some knives. You casually took a seat near him, trying to ignore the fire in your chest. He looked up and gave you a smile.

“Hola Y/N.” He said kindly. You returned the greeting. A couple minutes of silence passed before you couldn’t help but blurt out, “I understand.”

He paused his work, and a look of confusion was put on his face. That was until realization set in, and he froze, the knives slipping from his hands. Javier suddenly did a whole 180 in personality. The suave and confident was replaced by shy and unease.

“You...understand my songs?” He asked quietly while rubbing the back of his neck. You nodded and explained all the trouble you had to go through just to figure it out. He laughed, easing some of the tension.

“You went to Sean? That man can’t even read.” He said with a laugh, his old self back.

“I was desperate because somebody wouldn’t tell me!” You said back while laughing as well.

“I was nervous, ok.” He said after the laughter ended. You patiently waited for an explanation.

“I was too nervous to say how I felt about you, so I thought it would be easier in Spanish.” He explained while picking his knives back up, so he could avoid eye contact.

“Easier for you maybe.” You said with a laugh. He smiled at that. Then you suddenly went up and hugged him. He froze, but returned the gesture. 

“It annoyed me, but it still worked.” You said. 

“It did?” He asked with surprise.

“Yes.” You whispered, then kissed his cheek. 

He laughed slightly and then said, “Pasaste por tantos problemas por mí, mi amor.” (You went through so much trouble for me, my love.)

“Stop it!”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Juanes “Es Por Ti” was the song I used for this story. 10/10, great song, look it up.

#read dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 javier #javier escuella #javier x reader

[novaiya]

Imagine Arthur/Sean/Charles communicating with a non-English speaking immigrant reader.

Based on this request: can you write imagines for Arthur, Sean and Charles with a non-English speaking immigrant reader? If not that’s totally okay!! (Imagining the interactions that happen between them and the reader as they try to communicate would be funny ^^)

A/N: This was very fun to write, because at some point, I too was a non-english speaking immigrant. Language barrier sucks, but when you have people like Arthur, Charles or Sean, it sucks a little less lol I’m gonna be honest, as much fun as I had wiring this, I struggled a bit, especially with Arthur. If you look at Arthur’s interaction with people who don’t speak English… It seems like he has little to no patience with them lmfao

~

It was your third week with this group of people. It might’ve been fourth or maybe even fifth, but you couldn’t tell. All the days have blended into a one, long nightmare.

You have come to this country, the new world, in search of a better life, and instead, turned out worse than where you came from.

Thankfully, a group of people have picked you up, given you food and shelter and only asked for a small contribution in the form of basic housekeeping (more like camp keeping) in return. But even that was proving to be complicated, for you didn’t speak the language that the people did. You knew a few words before coming to America, basics like “Hello”, “Thank you”, “My name is…”, but nothing more. You were planning to continue your studies once you’ve arrived, but it seems like you'll have learn on the go. You were picking up some stuff here and there from the listening to camp members talk. You would attentively listen to the leader, Dutch was his name, and try to memorize the words he spoke. Plan, faith, and money would be common words in most of his speeches, and you’ve already learned their meanings.

Arthur.

You were taking a break, sitting on the edge of the camp and sketching on a piece of paper. You enjoyed drawing. It was a relaxing hobby, and it would remind you of your childhood, back when things were simpler.

“Hey there,” you heard from behind you. You turned around, seeing Arthur.

“Hello,” you said, your accent evident even in such a simple word.

“What you doing there,” he said as he took a seat next to you, looking at the scrap of paper in your hand.

You took a second to process what he just said. You heard the word “what”, and thought that maybe he was asking what you were doing. You didn’t know how to say you were drawing in english, so you simply showed him the sketch you were working on, pointing at it with your pencil.

“Ah,” Arthur exclaimed, understanding you. “You’re drawing.”

You tilted your head, not understanding what he’s saying.

“Drawing,” he repeated. He used his hand to pretend like he’s drawing. “You,” he said pointing at you, “draw.”

“Draw,” you repeated, looking at his hands then at a scrap of paper on your own. “I am drawing.”

“There you go.”

You smiled when you understood. Even a single word was a victory for you. The sooner you knew the language, the sooner you could get back on your feet.

“I draw too sometimes,” he said.

You turned to look at him.

He shuffled a bit, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a notebook. He skimmed through a few pages before showing you one of them. There, you saw a drawing of a horse. Your own sketch, in comparison to his, looked like chicken scratches.

“You draw very good,” you said.

A small smiled tugged at Arthur’s lips and he said, “thank you”

You nodded your head with a smile on your lips mirroring his. It was nice to have conversations. Due to the language barrier between you and the rest of the camp members, it was hard to make any significant connections. Most of your conversations only went as far as “thank you” or “good morning”. Arthur, however, has been one of the only people trying to bridge the gap between you and the rest of the gang. He would often start talking to you as if the language wasn’t a problem, and if you didn’t understand something, he would try to explain with simpler terms, using his hands or pointing at things, like he did just now when explaining drawing to you.

“I know a place not far from here,” Arthur spoke up, pulling you out of your thoughts, “Lot’s of animals roam there; horses, deers. I can take you there and you can draw them. If you want to, that is.”

You took a moment to understand what he meant. You basically understood every word he said, but was having a hard time of putting them together to understand the meaning behind them.

“You and I go draw together?” you said.

Arthur chuckled a bit. It was not exactly what he meant, but  it was close enough. Maybe he could use that opportunity to get to know you better, as much as the language barrier would allow.

“Sure, we can do that too.”

Charles

You were walking along the outskirts of the camp, taking a break from your chores to enjoy the nature around you. You could hear the birds sing from every tree, and as you went further into the forest, squirrels and rabbits would run around, not paying any attention to you.

When a bunny stopped almost in front of you, you smiled. You squatted down, almost eye level with the creature.

“I think he likes you,” you heard from behind you.

You turned around, seeing Charles approaching you. You smiled at him, before turning back to the bunny, who was still unfazed by your or Charle’s presence.

Charles crouched right next to you, studying the peculiar bunny like you did. He extended his hand, letting the bunny sniff it. You decided to try too, and let out a small laugh when bunny sniffed your hand as well, looking at you and then at Charles.

“He is very nice,” you said with a smile.

Charles nodded. “They can feel your intentions. He probably knows you’re not going to harm him.”

You nodded. You didn’t understand a word he said, but you still made a face as if you did. You wondered what the english word for bunny was.

“What is his name?” you said looking at Charles.

He smiled at your question. Since you’ve joined the gang, Charles admired your strength and work ethic. Even without knowing the language and barely being able to communicate with the rest of the people, you were a productive member of the camp, and have been working hard on learning the language.

He was one the first people that you talked to, and since then you would often go to him when you needed help understanding something. He was very approachable and always patient when it came to your language barrier.

“Bunny,” he replied.

“Bunny.” Your face was so serious when you tried to pronounce the word, Charles laughed a little bit.

“You got it,” he said. “Just gotta practice and it’ll sound perfect.”

“Thank you.”

Somehow, you ended up spending almost half an hour with Charles, studying all the different animals around, learning their names and a few other English words.

“Thank you very much, Charles,” you said when you finally made it back to camp.

“It’s no problem,” he said. “If you ever wanna learn anything else, you just let me know.” He winked at you before going to his tent.

You didn’t understand a word he said, but didn’t need to. That wink said all you needed to know.

Sean

It was nighttime, and most of the camp members were either getting ready for bed or gathering around the campfire, swapping stories and drinks. Due to the language barrier, you usually skipped those events; you couldn’t understand a single word they were saying and it made you feel out of place. Instead, you preferred to spend your evenings at a small table a little way from the campfire with a children’s book in your hand. You got the book from Abigail, who in turn got it from Hosea for Jack. She would lend it to you at the end of the day, after Jack has finished his lessons with Hosea, so you could learn too.

“What you doin’ here all alone?” you heard a voice say behind you.

You turned around, seeing Sean approaching you.

“Reading,” you said, showing him the book in your hand.

“Oh, that,” he said, taking a seat next to you. “I never understood the appeal of readin’. It’s ploddin’.”

“Plod-ding?” you repeated, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, you know, slow. I prefer to use my time in other ways, stealin’ or robbin’ for example.” Even though his voice sounded uplifting, you could see a hint of sadness in it. The smile that he was trying to put on didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You don’t read?” you said.

Sean took a moment before answering your question, shifting a bit in his chair.

“No, not really,” he said. “Me pa never taught me, and after he died I didn’t really have the time.”

You nodded your head, understanding what he said.

Sean wouldn't let anyone know it, but he was really insecure about his literacy. It’s not often that he needed to read something, but when he did, he was embarrassed that he couldn’t. So instead, he decided to own it, act like he didn’t care and that it was his decision not to learn. Lenny had been trying to teach him for a while then, but it didn’t go anywhere. Everytime Sean would get stuck on a word, or his progress would stagnate, he would get irritated and give up.

“Do you want learn?” you said.

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts. “You mean, learn to read?”

“Yes,” you said. “I read everyday. This kids book. We can read together.”

Sean’s immediate thought was to decline. He’d tried and failed so many times, at this point he didn’t believe he would ever be able to learn. But, something about seeing you, a person who barely spoke a word of English, a stranger in a strange land, trying your hardest despite everything, inspired him. What’s stopping him from doing the same?

“You know what,” he said. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s meet here tomorrow mornin’. Maybe ol’ Lenny will join us too.”

#arthur morgan x reader #charles smith x reader #sean macguire x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #charles smith x y/n #sean macguire x y/n #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfics

[yukina-otome]

Ikevamp pregnancy and family headcanon pt.3

I am back ! This time with Isaac and jean ! I hope you enjoy ! Please encourage me and let me know what you think !

@ginshoujo​ @bierunderdbeeren​ @fun-ghoul-neela​ @loverofmanyrandomthings​

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 

-Isaac: A daughter

-He spent most of his life alone so the idea of one day being a father was foreign and impossible for him. -When you came into his room one day being all nervous and refusing to look him in the eyes he thought you were there to dump him. -The last thing he expected you to say was that you were pregnant. -Isaac was so shocked he kept silent as you started rambling in nervousness. -After few minutes of Isaac staying silent and you rambling on how you want to keep the baby because it is the product of your love, Isaac  finally spoke: -"P-Pregnant....as in....B-Baby? Mine ? Wait....no that's no what i should be saying in this situation...ah wait a minute.....So there is a baby made of my sperm and your ovule in your uterus ??" -"Yes Isaac that's exactly what pregnant mean....are you not happy ?" -"NO ! I am very happy ! It's just that i never had a father, and I'm so awkward and clumsy I don't know if i can be a good father to our child" -The word "Our child" felt so foreign to him yet the second he said his heart felt so full. -After that you spent long hours reassuring him before you both fell asleep dreaming of your future together with your baby. -Few days later both of you guys decided to announce it to the whole mansion during dinner and as soon as the word "I am pregnant" left your mouth the whole dinner room fell silent. -The silence was broken by Arthur who said "Congratulation Newt you old chap, I can already suggest a pretty good name for your child! What about Apple if its a girl ! And if its a boy Applo !" -Isaac started arguing with Arthur and Dazai who also suggested naming your child Ringo. The rest of the resident all congratulated you and Sebastian banned you from doing house chores. -Your pregnancy was very peaceful. You would visit Isaac at the university almost every day and all his students treated you as if you were made of glass. The dean would always ask you about how you were doing and when you were in your 8th month, all the students and the dean gave you presents for the baby. -You were in university attending one of Isaac's class when your water broke. You started groaning and screaming in pain and the whole classroom started panicking. -Isaac was at your side by the second and quickly carrying you out of the class and toward the hospital (the students followed you) -And so you were in the delivery room while Isaac, 80 university students and the mansion's resident were waiting outside. -Napoleon was by Isaac's side trying to calm him down while Arthur Theo Dazai leo and le compte were making bets about the baby's gender. -After what felt like hours, the doctor came out of the delivery room and looked at the huge crowd in amazement before saying "Who is the father ?" -Isaac raised his hand and the doctor invited him in the delivery room. -You gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with light brown hair and pink eyes. -After much consideration you named her Cherry (As in cherry blossom) -Cherry was a very innocent and shy child. -She was also a huge crybaby. -One time when she was around 5 Arthur teased her and the second her eyes filled with tears and she started sniffing the whole mansion looked at arthur like he had just committed murder. From that day on she started avoiding him (it broke his hearth) -From when she was very young Isaac often took her to his classes where his student would gush over her and one day when she was 8 she corrected the student who was sitting next to her as he made a mistake in his formula. -That's how you knew she was a genius, her IQ was extremely high. But you guys never forced anything on her as she was more interested in cultures and languages than math's and physics. -By the age of 12 she was fluent in all the languages that were spoke in the mansion, English, French, Japanese and Dutch and of course Latin (her father taught her). -She would spend long hours having a debate about history with Sebastian. -You guys would go on stroll in the city and Isaac would smile as you and cherry would start nerding about some monument and the history behind it. He would thank all the stars and it would not be enough because he knew that he would never feel lonely ever again.

-Jean : A daughter and a son

-Jean didn't want children at all. -He was a monster. He was dirty. what kind of child would come from his genes. -But then he met you and slowly but surely he started loving himself a bit more. -You were his everything. For him you were the most beautiful and pure person. -Nevertheless you two never spoke of having a family. But you dreamed of having a big family. -So one day as you were resting in jean's embrace you decide to try and see what he thinks about it. -"Jean have you ever thought of having a family ?" -Jean thought for few minutes before saying "I never thought i deserved to have a family....but if its with you...." -You started crying and squeezed him in your arms. -And so from that point on the two of you started trying. -Few months later after a visit to your doctor you came in the mansion looking for jean only to find him sparing with napoleon in the training room. -Both of them stopped sparing to look at you as you screamed "I'm pregnant". Jean dropped his rapier and picked you up in a hug. -Both you and napoleon heard a laugh that sounded like it came straight out of an angel's mouth. Jean was laughing. -After that jean became your personal bodyguard. When he was busy he made napoleon keep an eye on you of all time. -Not that you needed any more protection as the whole mansion babied you. -"Guys i am not ill. I'm pregnant" -"But then why did you vomit this morning?" Mozart said -"It's just morning sickness !" you answered back -"Sickness....that mean you're ill. I'm taking you to the doctor right now" jean said as he carried you in his arms. -Anyways days passed and when you were in your 9th month jean had to take a job as a bodyguard with napoleon. Mozart had a concert to prepare for, Isaac was busy with his job as a professor, Sebastian was too busy, Leo Vincent and Theo were away on business, and no way he would leave you to Dazai or Arthur. -Which led him to ask the one and only person who was not busy that day.....Le compte. Truthfully he didn't want to owe him anything but he would throw away his pride for your safety any day. -That day you spend time with le compte drinking Tea and eating cake when your water broke. -Le compte took care of everything and took you to the hospital. He also sent a messenger for jean. -When jean got the message he was few hours away from the city. Napoleon assured him he would take care of the rest and jean took off as fast as he could. -When he arrived you had already given birth and you were sleeping. As he came into the room he saw you with your eyes closed and panicked. He checked your breathing and pulse and relaxed when he saw you were just sleeping. Then he heard the tiniest sound. -He looked toward the direction the sound came from and he saw a crib. He peaked inside the crib and saw the most beautiful dark blue eyes. His baby girl looked at him in curiosity before giving him a smile that reminded him so much of yours. -Now he had one more person who loved him, one more person to protect. -His daughter Louise was shy and timid. She didn't speak much. -She loved her uncle Napoleon the most and admired her uncle Mozart. -She would always listen to Mozart as he played the piano. At first he was awkward with her because he didn't know how to behave with kids but one day when she was 3 he found her sitting on the floor outside his piano room and asked "what are you doing?" -She looked at him with her big eyes and said "music" -From that day on she always came to listen to him playing. She would sit on the sofa in the piano room (it wasn't there before, he bought it just for her) and listen for hours. -When Louise was 6 you got pregnant again. This time Jean refused to leave you for even a second. He wanted to be with you when you gave birth. -"Jean its only the 5th month...I'm not going to give birth any time soon." "I don't care I'm not leaving you". -You would be chilling in Jean's room (that was redecorated to look more homey and less like a prison cell) and both Louise and Jean would have their ears on your tummy trying to hear what was happening inside. -After few hours of listening Louis said "It's a boy". "How can you be so sure darling ?" "I just know. He told me just now." -And she was right. Few months later you gave birth (with jean by your side this time) to a boy who looked like a mini jean. -His name was Orlean. -From his cold deadpan expression, to his androgynous features, to his dark sense of humor  he was a copy of jean. -He was so mature for his age and often took care of his bigger sister. -Orlean and Jean looked liked they were awkward when they were together because none of them would say much, but in fact the silence between them was always comfortable. They would understand each other with a single look. -Jean taught Orlean how to use a sword but Orlean preferred reading. He always spent time in the Library with his uncle Leo who would teach him all kind of subjects. -You, Louise and Orlean would come watch jean spare with napoleon and would cheer for him like crazy. -Jean never thought he would have anyone who loved him let alone a family. He would always be thankful to you who showed him love and gave him happiness. You, Louise and Orlean were his treasures.

#Ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevam #ikemen vampire jean #ikemen vampire isaac #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikemen vampire mozart #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp jean #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp Isaac #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp le compte #ikemen vampire headcanons

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

You targeted my heart...

For the beloved @empress-writes​

Hope you will enjoy the story!

"Q, get me out of here!"

**"This is what I am currently doing, 007!"**

Running down the building, James Bond dodged bullets as he tried to find the exit.

Seriously, he thought this mission in Uzbekistan would be a simple one: all he had to do was to find a file about a Dutch press magnate, retrieve it, and bring it back to England. In short, a piece of cake.

But concretely, nothing went as planned, and he gets caught by two Russian agents who were also after this file.

Once he was outside the building, James ran into the streets, trying to leave his pursuers behind. As he passed near an alley, a hand grabbed him by the collar.

"Come here, you idiot!"

Pinned against a wall, James looked at the main street as his pursuers passed close without noticing him.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice saying:

"My, my... Everywhere I go, there is always trouble. And when there is trouble, it means that you're in the area, dear James!"

The British spy turned his head and nearly choked when he recognized his savior:

"(Y/N)?"

"Herself, Mister Bond!" smirked the woman.

007 growled:

"I should have known that you will be here, too!"

"Is that how you thank me? How ungrateful! What happens to the good manners that make British men's reputation?"

James rolled his eyes at the ironic remark: nothing from (Y/N) (L/N) could surprise him anymore. 

Indeed, the American spy was the only person on Earth that could cross swords with the best English spy without a scratch. 

Both played cat and mouse since their first meeting in Paris. 

A game that they would never grow tired to play, even if it implies getting on each other's nerves.

"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?"

"Guess what?"

James sighed.

"You're here for the same reasons, I suppose?"

"Bang on, Mister Bond! And judging by your attempt to beat Usain Bolt's record, I assume that you have found this file?"

"How could you be so sure?"

"Let's just say that I've learned my lesson from Tokyo..."

The blonde man grinned.

"I hope you're still not mad at me..."

The woman has a disdainful air.

"Who do you take me for, uh? A little girl?"

"No, for a very resentful woman."

She shrugged.

"Anyway! I have no time to lose with you: I have unfinished business waiting for me..."

"I thought I was the unfinished business..."

She grinned.

"You wish you were, Mister Bond."

(Y/N) turned around and walked away.

"Have a safe journey home, 007!"

Her attitude puzzled James: usually, she would have fought for taking the file. Now, she did not even mention the coveted object. Something was wrong...

Tired, James decided to go back to England and took the first plane for London. 

Once he sat on his seat, he discreetly opened the file behind a newspaper. The British spy was shocked to discover that the file was empty.

Well, almost empty, as he noticed a small note.

"To win a race, the swiftness of a dart

Availeth not without a timely start."

Think about those words of wisdom from La Fontaine.

Sincerely yours.

(Y/N)

Defeated, James growled of frustration: she outsmarted him, once again.

He did not why, but imagining (Y/N) triumphally smiling at him while saying "Gotcha!" did not annoy him that much. Honestly, he found her pretty cute when she acted sassily. 

Yes, this girl will be the death of him, but no woman can compete with (Y/N) (L/N).

Meanwhile, in another plane, (Y/N) checked the file, grinning. She can picture James's face when he would realize that she beat him to this mission. 

The American spy dreamily smiled as she thought about his icy blue eyes. They perfectly matched his chiseled face... Uh, Lord: why her best frenemy has to be so handsome?

(Y/N) smirked: they will meet again and would resume their little game. She just needed to be patient.

A few months later, in a forest in Colombia.

"Speak, you bitch!"

The contact of the calloused hand with her cheek made (Y/N) hissing with pain. She turned her head and glanced furiously at her jailers.

The American operative cursed herself for being so reckless. She was so eager to catch this gang red-handed that she forgot to be discreet.

And now, she was in a life-threatening situation. This time, she probably won't escape... 

"For the last time, I ask you: Who send you here?" snarled the gangster.

"Your mother!" she snickered.

The gunman grimaced.

"So, you want to play this game? As you wish..."

He took a blowtorch and turned it on.

"Maybe this would help you recovering your memory..."

Trying to untie her ropes, (Y/N) started to panic as she saw the flame coming closer to her face...

"How rude of you to treat a lady this way!"

All stopped on their tracks as they heard a voice coming from nowhere.

As for (Y/N), she recognized this familiar voice: it meant that a charming British spy was not far...

"Show yourself, bastard!" screamed the mobster as his henchmen and he drew their guns.

"If you ask politely..." replied James as he gunned down a gangster.

Taking advantage of the element of surprise, (Y/N) untied her feet and kicked two of the men in the legs, making them fall. 

Then, she broke the ropes that bound her hands and joined the fight. 

While he got rid of two opponents, James glanced at (Y/N) as she furiously knocked out her adversaries. The British spy must admit that the American spy was sexy when she was angry. A real lioness!

"James! Stop checking me out and fight!"

"At your orders!" 

They kept fighting when suddenly, a mobster caught the woman by surprise and pinned her down, strangling her.

Struggling to breathe, (Y/N) kicked the air with her feet, trying to get rid of his iron grip. But she failed, and her vision started to blur.

Luckily for her, James shot the man in the head, saving her from certain death. 

As (Y/N) gasped for air, James rushed to her side.

"You're right?"

"I knew worse..." she grimaced.

The blonde man noticed the bruises on her face. His blood boiled with rage: he should have intervened sooner! How dare they hurt her?

But the priority was to take (Y/N) to a safer place. He carried her in his arms and rushed to his car before driving down to his hotel. Once they arrived, they managed to reach his room without being noticed by the staff.

Then, James gently laid the woman on the mattress before picking his first aid kit and starting to heal her wounds.

"I suppose that I should thank you for saving me..." she whispered.

"Don't bother... Besides, I only return you the favor."

(Y/N) glanced at him with a questioning look.

"The favor?"

"Do you remember when you saved me in Uzbekistan?"

The American woman nodded.

"This time when I save you from the Russian agents?"

"Indeed."

She smirked.

"You bet I remember it... I thought you would be mad at me after my little trick!"

He laughed.

"Not even the slightest. You played well, and I consider it as my retribution for Tokyo!"

They went silent for minutes before (Y/N) dared to ask:

"Why did you save me?"

James slightly bit his lip before answering:

"Well... I could not let you die. Because I would never find someone equal to you."

"I'm flattered."

He came closer to her, their faces apart from inches.

"I meant it, (Y/N). I would find life tedious if you were not here."

"Because I'm just a playmate to you?"

He gave her a small peck on the corner of her lips.

"We can be more than that if you want..."

"Maybe one day..." she replied with a tired smile.

James nodded: duty will come first, no matter what would happen.

"We have all the time in the world..." 

"Will you waiting for me?" the woman whispered as she drifted into sleep.

She barely heard James's answer:

"I will wait, (Y/N)."

A year later, in London.

Walking down the snowy streets, James looked at the peaceful surrounding with a small smile. After several missions around the world, M granted him some days off. 

007 did not complain about it: saying that he was tired would be an understatement.

However, he could not stop thinking about (Y/N): he did not see the American spy since their last encounter in Colombia, and he missed their flirtatious game. James hoped she was doing well...

"Do you miss me, Mister Bond?"

The British spy turned around and smiled when he spotted the young woman sitting next to him, elegantly dressed in a crimson winter coat. She gave him a charming and warm smile.

"I return you the question, Miss (L/N)."

She laughed.

"If it wasn't the case, I would not be here."

The British man chuckled.

"You got the point."

They stayed silent for a few minutes before he muttered:

"I missed you, (Y/N)."

"I missed you too, James." 

(Y/N) questioned:

"If you're still ready... Then, will you be more than a playmate to me?"

A genuine smile came across James's face:

"I am always ready. Especially for you!"

He got up and offered his hand:

"I know a place where we can talk about it... Will you come with me?"

She got up and put her arm around his and replied:

"Let's go, then."

The pair walked to their destination, arm in arm. Suddenly, James heard a small sound coming from his phone. Looking at the screen, he saw a message from Q:

Should I order an engagement ring?

Smirking, Bond texted back before giving all his attention back to (Y/N). They both have all the time to think about it... 

Meanwhile, in his lab, Q worked on his computer when his phone buzzed. Intrigued, he picked his phone and laughed when he saw the reply of 007:

Later, Q. Promise, you will be the first to know...

The quartermaster smirked: (Y/N) and Bond aimed at each other's heart and hit it right on the mark.

Let's see what would happen in the future, even if he hoped the best for the two secret agents...

Thanks for the reading!

I hope you enjoy the story: please let me know!

Don’t hesitate to send me requests: it will be a pleasure!

See you later and take care! 😘🥰😍😷

#requests #james bond franchise #james bond #daniel craig #angelina jolie

[schrijverr]

Translation Error

Bakugo’s mom is Dutch and at home, he speaks Dutch. He hadn’t realized the class hadn’t caught on yet, until he’s calling with his mom. After that, they notice more Dutch things.

(AKA, I’m Dutch and I’m having fun with making Bakugo Dutch as well)

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed anything!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugo Mitsuki had not always been a Bakugo, she’d not even always been Mitsuki. Before she was a Bakugo, she had been a Jansen, Marjolein Jansen, and her parents had moved from the Netherlands to Japan for her fathers job.

But that had been when she was eleven and she was fluent in Dutch, teaching it to her son when he was young.

They were a multi-lingual household with Mitsuki swearing in Dutch as she stubbed her toe while Masaru told Bakugo to put on his shoes in Japanese.

Katsuki took great pride in the fact that he spoke two languages, often teaching swearwords in Dutch to the other kids on the playground.

However, after a few years the novelty had worn of for most and it became just another fact of life that Kastuki would sometimes swear under his breath in a different language or forget an easy word only to grumble a weird word until he had found the translation.

Being in a Japanese school and watching Japanese media, however, ensured that Katsuki was much more comfortable in Japanese than Dutch. Even if Dutch was the language he spoke at home, so by the time he entered UA, he hardly ever spoke Dutch outside of his mom and grandparents.

Since he hardly ever spoke Dutch, it took a long while for everyone in his class to even notice that he could speak another language.

Of course, when you were running for your life it was hard to notice that your friend was chanting “kut, kut, kut, kut,” under his breath instead of a more familiar swear and you didn’t see them talking to their mom at school.

So, it wasn’t until they moved into the dorms together that people started to notice it.

The first instance was mostly brushed off. Bakugo and Midoriya had been talking about hero training classes when Bakugo said: “We never really did more- more- more,” he snapped his fingers, obviously annoyed, and grumbled, “godverdomme, reddingswerk, wat is dat ook alweer?” he looked at Midoriya and repeated, “Reddingswerk?”

Midoriya shrugged, he didn’t know what the Dutch word meant. Bakugo groaned, before explaining: “What we did with Thirteen.”

“Rescue?” Midoriya offered.

“Yeah, that’s the bitch,” Bakugo said, “We never really did more rescue work after that, now did we.”

“Hmm, yeah, we should ask Iida about that, as class rep, he might be able to do something about it,” Midoriya agreed and the conversation continued normally.

He already knew of the Dutch and hadn’t been phased by it, while most the class had only heard the tone Bakugo used, which was as usual annoyed and angry, not really registering the language as different.

The next time someone could have noticed, but didn’t was when he was helping Kaminari with his English homework. Kaminari groaned: “How can you keep track of all these letters? It’s so confusing.”

“I already knew the alphabet,” Bakugo shrugged, remembering how his mother had showed him how to write down his name differently and the fairytales she used to read to him.

“That’s nice, wish that were me,” Kaminari said miserably, looking at his homework.

“It’s still fucking confusing,” Bakugo huffed, thinking of the English pronouncing ‘a’ as ‘e,’ while pronouncing ‘e’ as ‘i,’ or why they couldn’t say the ‘w’ like a normal person. He blinked out of his thoughts and said: “Oi, focus again, Battery-boy.”

Kaminari startled and whined, but turned back to his homework with much displeasure.

A few days later, Bakugo stubbed his toe on the table near the couches when he got up to grab himself something to drink. He grabbed his foot and swore: “Godver de tering zooi. Kut, kut, kut. Holy shit, godver. Wat een tyfus tafel. Fuck that hurt. Klere ding.”

Everyone blinked at the outburst, before Mina asked: “What the fuck was that?”

“That’s called swearing, Raccoon,” Bakugo glared at her, “Who even put this table here?”

“The school, idiot,” Jiro shrugged, not really looking further into the weird noises that had come out of Bakugo’s mouth, because she didn’t think it above him to know obscure swears, just to add to his repertoire.

Bakugo glared at her as well, but the throbbing in his toe had subsided and he wasn’t really looking to pick a fight when they were about to watch a movie. So he dropped it and just went to grab himself a drink.

It was not until his mother called him that people truly caught on to the fact that it was an entirely different language, instead of some weird swears here and there. His phone rang while on the couch and he groaned when he saw who was calling.

Kirishima asked: “Who’s mama?”

“It’s my mom, dumbass,” he said, before swiping to pick up and saying: “Hallo met is Katsuki, waarom bel je me, heks?”

The person on the other side of the line said something, while Kirishima and Mina stared in confusion at the incomprehensible babble coming out of Bakugo’s mouth.

“Kon dat niet wachten?” Bakugo replied after a moment, getting up to get a bit of privacy as he spoke, “Ik zit hier beneden nu met mensen, we zijn ons huiswerk aan het doen. En dat is pas over een week, ook nog, by the way. Waarom val je me daar nu mee lastig?”

Midoriya came in and Mina whispered to him: “What’s he doing?” with a nod to Bakugo.

The other boy looked at Bakugo just as he said: “Nee, ik heb het al met Aizawa besproken, ik kan gewoon dat weekend naar huis komen. Hij snapte ‘t toen ik uitlegde dat opa en oma van ver komen.”

So, Midoriya shrugged: “Talking with his mom, I suppose. I don’t speak Dutch, sorry.”

“Why is he even speaking Dutch?” Kirishima asked, completely confused.

“Because his mom is Dutch.” Midoriya was confused by Kirishima’s confusion, surely they knew this already?

A few more people walked in and looked between the three confused teens and Bakugo, who was oblivious to the stares Mina and Kirishima were giving him.

He nodded even though his mom couldn’t see and said: “Ja, dat weet ik. Ik heb het opgeschreven. Ik ben niet achterlijk hoor, heks. Natuurlijk vergeet ik ‘t niet.”

A silence fell, in which the newcomers also had a chance to be confused. Then Bakugo hung up with a: “Ja, ja, doei, spreek je later. Doe de groeten aan papa enzo.”

Bakugo turned back to see half the class looking at him and he snapped: “What are you all looking at, eh?”

Midoriya, god bless his heart, spoke up for everyone and explained: “I think they only just realized you’re half-Dutch.”

“Why? Are they dumb?” Bakugo frowned, he hadn’t made the conscious effort to hide it.

“Oi, we’re not dumb,” Mina got out of her stupor.

“Yeah, Bakubro, you could have told us,” cried Kirishima.

“What is that thought?” Bakugo said, “Should I have made an announcement out of it? Do the klompendans while hanging out the Dutch flag? Like what do you want from me? I didn’t even try to hide it.”

It was quiet for a moment as most had to concede that was a pretty solid point. In the end Tsu asked him: “Can you say something in Dutch?”

“Am I a circus monkey or something?” Bakugo growled.

Hagakure jumped in as well: “Please, Bakugo, I missed most of the phone call, I wanna hear what it sounds like.”

More people rallied behind her and Bakugo gave in, saying: “Jullie zijn allemaal stom en ik haat het hier.”

“What did you say?” Mina asked.

“I said that you’re all stupid and I hate it here,” Bakugo said, before turning to walk away.

During dinner that evening more people nagged him. Mina and Kirishima wanted to know what the phone call was about (it was his mom asking if he had gotten permission to come home to see his grandparents next weekend) and the people who hadn’t been there to see wanted to hear what Dutch sounded like (Bakugo hit the closest of said people and told them nothing).

After a while, Momo mused: “I thought your mother’s name was Mitsuki. That’s a pretty Japanese name.”

“Her actual name is Marjolein, but no one ever pronounced or wrote it right, so she just says it’s Mitsuki,” Bakugo shrugged.

“How do you even spell that?” Kaminari wondered.

“You’re not good enough at the Roman alphabet for me to spell it out to you,” Bakugo told him, before adding: “And I’m not sure if it’s the long ij or the short ei.”

Kaminari frowned at the insult, then said: “You just made the same noise twice.”

“Yeah, but one is i j and the other is e i,” Bakugo explained, “It’s the same sound, okay. You just write it differently. I think it’s the short ei, but I never use that name for her. I’ve only heard opa en oma call her that.”

“Who?” Kirishima asked.

“My grandparents, like grandpa is opa and oma is grandma,” Baugo said, hoping they would stop asking him questions, because he was tired of explaining and he just wanted to eat his dinner in peace.

Luckily most had caught on to his annoyed tone and left him alone, but Bakugo could feel that this was something new and interesting that would hold their attention for a while.

He was right, because that week he was often asked what the Dutch word for something was or what the thing he just said was (it was usually swears), but he managed to survive ‘till Friday when he got to leave campus for the weekend.

They were walking back to the dorms, so that Bakugo could grab his stuff, before leaving to go see his grandparents, when he got a notification. He looked and said: “Fuck yeah, m’n opa en oma brought me hagelslag.”

“What is that?” Kirishima asked.

“It’s- uhm, beleg- stuff you put on bread,” Bakugo explained, knowing this was very a Dutch thing and was already pretty weird in countries that ate bread regularly, “I’ll probably bring it with me Monday.”

The others nodded and Bakugo said goodbye, before leaving, excited to see his grandparents again after so long. They had moved back to the Netherlands when he was five, saying they missed their country. He didn’t understand, because it always rained in the Netherlands when he’d been there and he got nearly hit by a bike multiple times.

He had a blast that weekend by excluding his dad from as many conversations as possible while catching up with his grandparents.

Returning on Monday, he had to do a double take when Kirishima greeted him in Japanese and asked how his weekend had been, before he remembered that it wasn’t all Dutch anymore. He said it was good, before sliding into his seat.

That lunch break he got out some sweets from his bag, reluctantly sharing them with his friends: “They gave these to me, something about their youth and shit. Whatever.”

Mina held up a little brown stick like candy and asked: “What’s this?”

“A kaneelstokje,” Bakugo answered, seeing her helpless look, he expanded: “It’s - what that fucking word again - kaneel, uhm… ah, yeah, cinnamon. It’s a cinnamon stick. When you bite it feels weird, but they’re nice. I also have the cherry version.”

With a curious hum Mina stuck it in her mouth, then she bit and grimaced, before mumbling: “That was harder than I expected.”

“Your mistake,” Bakugo shrugged, shoving a stroopwafel in his mouth.

A few tables over Midoriya spotted them and skipped over, asking Bakugo: “Did they give you those pig head candies?”

“Biggetjes?” Bakugo asked, “Yeah, here. I don’t like these, but they keep giving me them. I would much rather have the monkey ones.”

“Those have licorice on them, Kacchan,” Midoriya made a face.

“They’re nice, now fuck off, nerd,” Bakugo grumbled.

“Pig heads?” Hagakure asked.

“Yeah, it’s in the shape of a pig head and it’s a fruit gummy,” Bakugo shrugged, “The ears are slightly different and the monkey version is part licorice.”

“That’s weird,” Mina told him.

“Then you’re not getting more candy,” Bakugo shot back.

“No, I wanna try the cookies. I’m sorry,” Mina quickly said.

With an eyeroll Bakugo handed her a stroopwafel, explaining that it was a hard waffle with hardened syrup between it. He had eaten them hot and soft once and he didn’t get the rave about them fresh of the hotplate, he much preferred them cold.

They ate the foreign candy with interest asking about them and laughed about the guttural pronunciation that it had to them, marveling how Bakugo could make the hard ‘g’ sound, while they struggled.

And the next morning the whole class came together to stare in horror at Bakugo’s breakfast. He had put butter on a slice of bread, then put chocolate sprinkles on it. When Jiro had asked what the fuck he was eating, he scowled and said: “It’s hagelslag, okay, Earbuds.”

“That’s hagelslag?” Kirishima asked, stumbling over the word.

“Yeah,” Bakugo, “Almost everyone eats it. You also have vlokken, but that’s just hagelslag except flat and a bit bigger, though they also have hagelslag XL. There’s also a fruit version, but that’s just flavored hardened sugar.”

Uraraka looked at Bakugo’s plate and said: “This just feels off.”

“Well, then don’t look at, ey, Round-face,” Bakugo growled as he hunched protectively over his plate.

“Can I try?” Kirishima asked.

Bakugo eyed him suspiciously, before handing him a bit of his bread. He watched as Kirishima tried it, face morphing into a grin as he said: “Dutch kids are lucky. They get to eat chocolate for breakfast. Are you sure parents condone this?”

“My grandfather has never eating anything different for breakfast in his life,” Bakugo said.

“Nice.”

And with that they decided that this wasn’t really something to get on the blond’s nerves about, since it wasn’t really a big deal, and the conversation moved on to different topics.

But the knowledge that Bakugo was multilingual settled as normal in the group over time and explained how here and there he would say something incredibly weird, seemingly thinking it’s normal.

No one had commented on it before, but now it was easier to understand why.

For example, when they were having a collaborative training with class 1-B, Kirishima punched Bakugo’s arm and said: “You should give a pep-talk. Come on, Bakubro, inspire us.”

“Nah, Midoriya is better at sticking a heart under someone’s belt than I am, he should do it,” he replied.

“What?” Kirishima asked, confused

“You know, encouraging people and shit?” Bakugo asked, only getting more confusion back, “No, not Japanese?”

“No, bro,” Kirishima grinned.

“Well, it still makes sense,” Bakugo grouched.

“I would say no,” Mina commented.

“Shut up, Raccoon,” Bakugo huffed, “It makes sense. You give someone your heart for courage and the best place to store it is on your belt. Like in Medieval times.”

“Still weird.”

“And you still have to shut up,” Bakugo shot back, “Just focus on beating those pompous motherfuckers.”

Because in the end, it didn’t matter which language he spoke, he stayed Bakugo. Swearing and competitive Bakugo.

~~

A/N:

Fun fact: a lot of foreigners have trouble with our ‘g’ which somehow can also be written as ‘ch’ as well as our double vowels, like ‘aa’ and ‘ee’

As for all the translations:

Kut means cunt, literally, but it is used like you would use shit (and yes, learning the verb cut in English class was very fun and completely misused)

“Godver de tering zooi. Kut, kut, kut. Holy shit, godver. Wat een tyfus tafel. Fuck that hurt. Klere ding.”

Goddamn the [swear] mess. Cunt, cunt, cunt. Holy shit, goddamn. What a [swear] table. Fuck that hurt. [Swear] thing.

When I put [swear] it’s bc I cannot explain why we swear with it and I do not want to put in the mental effort of explaining it and just saying it will make it sound worse than it actually is

The phone convo isn’t really interesting, but if anyone wants to know what Bakugo said:

“Hi, het is Katsuki, waarom bel je me, heks?”

Hi, it’s Katsuki, why are you calling me, witch?

“Kon dat niet wachten?”

Couldn’t that wait?

“Ik zit hier beneden nu met mensen, we zijn ons huiswerk aan het doen. En dat is pas over een week, ook nog, by the way. Waarom val je me daar nu mee lastig?”

I’m sitting downstairs with people right now, we’re doing our homework. And that’s in a week, as well, by the way. Why are you bothering me with that now?

“Nee, ik heb het al met Aizawa besproken, ik kan gewoon dat weekend naar huis komen. Hij snapte ‘t toen ik uitlegde dat opa en oma van ver komen.”

No, I already talked about it with Aizawa, I can just go home that weekend. He understood when I explained that grandpa and grandma came from far.

“Ja, dat weet ik. Ik heb het opgeschreven. Ik ben niet achtelijk hoor, heks. Natuurlijk vergeet ik ‘t niet.”

Yes, I know. I wrote it down. I’m not an idiot, witch. Of course I wouldn’t forget it.

“Ja, ja, doei, spreek je later. Doe de groeten aan papa enzo.”

Yes, yes, bye, talk to you later. Say hi to dad etc.

Only when translating this phone call did I realize how many filler words we have that don’t make sense in translation, so I just left them.

#RR writing #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugo mitsuki #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #dutch bakugo katsuki #dutch #class 1 a #mha class 1a #bnha class 1a

[miedei]

hi love !! may i pls get a ship with txt (if you know them well enough!) and enha (but only with the hyung line !! but i would LOVE to know if my original pick was a maknae line member :)) my description was SUPER long (I GOT CARRIED AWAY </3) so you can cut my request at the personality part when posting my ship (like right here) ! tysm in advance <3

I’m an ‘03 liner that’s 5’9.5 (basically 5’10) with dark skin, jet black hair (currently in long twists rn!!), and i’m on the curvier side (esp hips and my thighs) !! some of my favorite features are my plump lips (and i have a beauty mark near the inside of my bottom lip!), my long legs (they’re 40.5 inches long and look so good in dresses and skirts <33), my kempt and pretty fingernails, and my eyelashes !!! i’m a virgo (and surprisingly i get along with all the signs, i cant think of a sole zodiac sign i DONT mix well with) ! i’m also an ambivert all the way! i often come off as cold/quiet when meeting new people (one of my closest friends avoided me for a MONTH before talking to me because i looked so intimidating LMAO), but once you get close to me i turn into a goofy (heavy on the goofy, im never NOT laughing) bundle of warmth and love: i always add the <3 to my texts and i like to buy my friends/s/o their favorite starbucks order when they need a little cheer-me-up. also, lots of people say i’m mature and carry myself well, but around my friends i’m one of the most goofiest people ever (probably bc my face will literally be 😐 one sec and then 🥰 the next second when someone makes me laugh <3)

i’m extremely passionate about the issues and people i care about and the goals and dreams i have. I’m creative, an extremely good listener, always caring, a social butterfly, and extremely hardworking. my friends always told me of my heart of gold and how perceptive i am of the people around me—noticing immediately when something is wrong and trying to make them feel better. I’m also very headstrong, detailed, and determined!! my friends also call me a nerd since i’ve had all a’s since kindergarten—i LOVE school/education and would describe myself as intelligent. i really like that i’m empathetic and motivational to those around me. it’s really easy for me to show my affection, adoration, and support for someone because i just want everyone to feel loved and safe :( i HATE seeing my loved ones sad, and when people usually have problems about anything (from family to just school), i’m the one they come to talk to because of my warm and openminded heart. I love sharing happiness with my friends in their goals and always hype them up no matter what, and it makes me so so so so happy seeing my loved ones content, comfortable, accepted, and just knowing that they mean so much to me and that they’re loved. im also really, really funny (my fave personality trait of mine tbh)!! I’m always cracking jokes and laughing (sometimes for no reason LMAOO). i would be in the library at like 7 am with my friends and struggle with stifling my laugh from jokes i told </3 although i’m extremely nice and outgoing, i’m not afraid to stand my ground (most of the time) and will easily give back any nasty or rude attitude that comes my way from rude people. i’m super defensive (esp about topics like blm, medical injustice, cultural insensitivity/appropriation, sexism/racism/ableism/homophobia), so if someone says some shit out of pocket, i will not be afraid to put them in their place !!! a lot of people (especially older/more traditional folk) do not like that about me but i could care less <3 and as any other person, i have flaws (too hard on myself when things dont go as perfectly as planned, i come off as too blunt or insensitive sometimes, i hold grudges, and i hate conflict and usually avoid it (which can be a bad thing), but I’m actively working to change and grow from those flaws !! some useless facts about me: i love love love afrobeats (nigerian gyal here), some k-pop groups (bts, txt, enha, ateez, gwsn, p1h, and some 2nd gen groups!), and r&b (rihanna and bey and aaliyah <33). I have a deeper voice for a girl (i was bullied for sounding like a man LMFAO), i LOVE to play roblox, i’ve been to 14/50 US states, i can do VERY simple makeup, people often think my nails are acrylics bc they’re long and i love doing nail art on them), and i know all the lyrics and adlibs to enhypen’s given-taken 😋 if i could describe myself in a word, it’d be openminded!! and my dreams for the future are 1) to be truly happy and comfortable (which includes finding my true love <33) 2) to make a change on the people around me and the world itself (preferably through healthcare so i can mend health disparities in POC and low-income neighborhoods!!), and i love junk food (I SHOULDNT but it’s so good). I also LOVE law and order svu and forensic files, princess and the frog, tangled, and penthouse !!!!!

I also love to go out and explore—whether trying out a new restaurant in the city or a newly opened amusement park or trying something new, like skydiving (or some other crazy but fun idea), trying recipes from around the world, or trying sledding for the first time! at the same time, i like really chill, mellow spending-time-alone-or-with-one-other-person activities like baking (my favorite treat to bake is red velvet cupcakes and cheddar bay biscuits) and dancing !! (i’ve been a dancer for more than 12 years!!). i can also speak more than 5 languages (english, igbo, delta igbo, efik, mandarin, korean, dutch) and i’m always saying random phrases (like thank you, i love u so much!, gtfo my face, that sucks ass) in a random language too LMFAOOO. i often think being a coffee/cafe lover is a personality trait (i love love love love love coffee) i also love accessories (earrings, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, rings, etc) and would die of happiness when the day i can wear matching accessories with my s/o comes. i also love cleaning/keeping my spaces clean and hate a dirty space </3

along with being my best friend and lover all in one, my ideal type is literally someone who looks cold/cool/mysterious/laid back at first glance but is actually the shyest, cutest, warmest honey bun i have ever seen in my life </3 ALSO a man who can pull off all black outfits like those are my FAVORITE omg. he needs to be FUNNY and have a BIG sense of humor (like i want to laugh every second i’m with him and laugh so hard that our stomachs start hurting and we beg each other to stop making jokes type of humor), fashionable (so i can learn fashion pls and wear coordinated outfits with him). i just want a boy who i could talk to and listen to for HOURS. like i would follow him into the bathroom as he showers and sit on the toilet and just listen to him talk about his day or vent to him, but also a boy that loves comfortable silence!! like we can spend the whole together and come back to the house where im studying and he’s working on a personal project so that just being with him makes me feel warm <3 i want a s/o who’s willing to go out and travel with me so i could take off guard pics of him and make him my wallpaper until he begs me to change it. im also not good at conflict so if conflict arises, id love a boy who knows how to talk me down and open up the room for conversation and make me feel safe and not as if im confronted or wrong, someone where we can just talk, resolve our problem, and make it up with a hug or night out!! this kinda leads to me wanting a relationship where we both help improve each other and our flaws. in addition to the flaws i listed earlier, the way i dont open up easily and take things to heart WAY too often are going to cause some problems in a relationship along the way (ofc). so, i’d really appreciate a relationship where my partner and i can help each other grow as people. i think the best relationships are where both partners help each other blossom into the best version of themselves (here i go being a hopeless romantic again). i also love love love to cook, so i’d love an s/o that loves cooking with me and teaching each other how to cook each other’s cultural foods (i would love to teach my bf how to cook jollof rice and have a cookoff one day). i also want a boy that i can tease (i love to tease people omg) <3 like i could say “u look like a cute tomato when u blush, my cutie pie <3333” to “and that’s why you got a big ass head” and we’d just laugh and he’d tease me back <33 I like ALL 5 of the love languages (im a hopeless romantic ik) but my top 3 tied for 1st are quality time (HEAVY ON THE QUALITY TIME i want to spend everyday with my bf at chinatown or a new city exploring), words of affirmation (someone who reaffirms me of their love continuously, supportively, and in sweet ways), and acts of service (cooking my favorite food when i’m down, doing chores that i cant do when tired). men who are really expressive through touch are also ideal <3 i'd shy away from pda, but inside the house i’d be so happy yet so shy and flustered when they express their love through touch (like laying in my lap so i can play with their hair, holding my hand while watching tv, touching my waist whenever, cuddling while talking about whatever). OR like the SLIGHTEST compliment or act of love (LIKE BACKHUGS OR HOLDING HANDS OR KISSING MY BEAUTY MARKS OR FOREHEAD KISSESJSJSJSJ) i love a man who's goal oriented, know what he wants, and makes the move first (kinda like taking control of the relationship!!) in all, i’d just love to be really appreciated and loved and also show the same love, support, warmth, closeness, and happiness to my bf <3

tysm in advance!!! Have an amazing day/afternoon/evening!

hihihi! thanks for your request, this was fun to do!

in txt, i ship you with soobin!

unrelated but this gif makes me so happy

i think you and soobin would be a really cute dynamic! in the beginning of your relationship he would feel very interested, but he'd get mixed feelings on your end. but as soon as he begins to pick up on your feelings, he'd start making moves and asking you out. he'd love for you to teach him some of your languages! if he heard you say anything randomly he'd get really excited and think it's so beautiful, just like you! he is similar to you, not very into pda in public, but if you're alone together? you are not allowed to move unless he comes with you attached to your side. all in all, you'd be an a d o r a b l e couple, and so fun to be around!

in enhypen, i ship you with sunghoon!

you two would be mf POWER COUPLE!! you're both very unapproachable and like, gorgeous on the outside, but so fun and happy once you get to know each other. i definitely see him asking you out first, in a very blunt way, like to the point where you'd be a bit taken aback. but he'd be the sweetest person to you on dates, he'd love study/work dates, where you both are working in a cafe, or on a couch across from each other. the silence would be cool and comfortable but he'd actively seek out a way to stay connected to you, whether it be tangling your legs together, or placing his free hand on yours. this little shit loves to tease you and see you blush, but it's all out of love. you guys would be the it couple of your friend group, and you'd just be so amazing together.

#thanks for the request! #ships #enhypen #txt #txt fluff #txt soft hours #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon #park sunghoon #txt soobin #choi soobin #enhypen imagines #txt imagines #enhypen ships #txt ships #lmk if you want anything else !

[alphawave-writes]

Pst pst.... sigrold snippets?

With Sigma getting the very predictable FLYING DUTCHMAN skin (I knew it was going to be a pun, and I was right), it’s time to turn these space dads into PIRATE dads!

—

Well, he’s finally done it. Sailing Master Harold Winston has gone and got himself captured by pirates. To be fair, it should have been expected it would happen sooner or later. He’s been told countless stories by his contemporaries of the struggles of being a sailing master. To literally chart the unknown waters, make sense of the stars and land to map out routes through the ocean, to be one of few who can make sense of what seems like madness, it’s a tough job that few have been educated on. That makes people like him valuable, for better and for worse. He’s had many jobs aboard many ships, but he thought he might have something steady with the Horizon and its crew. The things (or rather animals) he was bringing back from his latest expedition to the African continent was sure to be revolutionary in the field of science. All he remembers is thinking that as he drifts asleep, safe in his small but comfortable lodgings amidst the ship.

When he wakes up, he’s on the deck of an unfamiliar ship, the sun beating down on his back. For some reason he’s dressed in his navy master uniform, hat and all, even though he’s sure he was only in his undergarments when he went to bed, but before he can attempt to remember why he’s already dressed, a pair of arms forcefully pulls him up. Not a second later and another, softer pair of hands pulls his face up. Harold knows he’s not intimidating, but he puts on his best snarl, hoping to instill some form of fear and 

Instead, he comes face to face with an old, dear friend, smirking cruelly at him.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Master Winston. I must admit, I did not expect our reunion to go like this.”

“S-Siebren?”

Siebren laughs such a cruel laugh. It would sound malicious if Harold didn’t already know that this was how Siebren laughs. His voice is always so delicate and polite, even when his actions and words cut sharper than the blade that’s sitting at the edge of Harold’s throat. “It’s Sir or Captain aboard this ship. You’re smart enough to know that.”

“You attacked my ship?” His eyes dart around the deck, hoping to see a familiar face, a familiar person from the Horizon. But he sees that flicker of doubt in Siebren’s eyes and feels the dread build up like tar in his throat. 

Before he can speak those words into existence, Siebren beats him to the punch. “We found your ship. Blown to smithereens, as the English say. Not a scant of treasure or people to be found, just you, lying on a piece of driftwood, nary a scratch nor droplet on you. Like yo”

“So the crew?”

“Dead. At the bottom of the merciless sea, no doubt.”

Harold gulps microscopically, careful not to let the blade sit closer to his skin. “And...nothing else?”

“Is there something you’re hiding from me, Master Winston?”

Harold feels the emotionless gazes of the other pirates picking him apart piece by piece. They’re judging him, observing his every move. If Harold is to reveal his past relationship with their captain to the crew, would they accept him or take him to an early grave? 

Siebren smiles. “You’ve changed.”

“I haven’t changed,” Harold says diplomatically. “I’m just now in the presence of pirates.”

“Pirates that have saved your life. Pirates that would like you to repay your debt by joining our motley crew.” 

Someone by Harold’s side hands Siebren a piece of paper, who hangs it up just enough for Harold to see. There in print is the Articles of Agreement, the Pirate oath of allegiance for all those on the ship. Siebren’s name is there towards the top, as well as what Harold assumes to be the name of every other pirate aboard this ship. For a contract, it’s as standard as it can get. As a full member, Harold will get a share of any and all plunder, injury compensation, and a list of punishments for the disobedient. Noticeably, the roles of each specialised member is there. Siebren is listed as the Captain, Ambroos is the Quartermaster, and so on. Noticeably, there’s no one that has the official role of Navigator. 

“You want me to be your Navigator?” Harold asks.

Siebren smiles, much softer and kinder than before. More similar to the Siebren Harold once knew back at the Naval Academy. “It’s no coincidence we’ve crossed paths. You were always the best Navigator in our classes.”

“And you’re not?”

“It’s a bit difficult when you have a ship to run. Much better to have an expert of the stars make sense of the waters, no?” Another shipmate hands Siebren a pen. To Harold’s mercy, Siebren retreats his knife and lifts his head. “You can let go of him, Coen. He won’t do anything.”

After a few seconds the hands on Harold’s arms let go. Harold stumbles forward, almost crashing into Siebren’s chest, but he manages to correct his footing. In all his life he never thought Siebren to be the type to go to piracy. He was well-respected in his native Netherlands, could have easily gotten a job with the Dutch East India Company in whatever capacity he so wishes. In their youth, Siebren had been so passionate about charting the stars, of the ways science can meld with superstition. So often Harold listened along, entranced by the siren’s song, waiting for the day he might meld Siebren’s thin lips against his own, fuller lips. Before that day might come, Siebren had left suddenly, and Harold was left all alone at the Naval Academy.  

Harold stares at Siebren’s face and despite everything still sees the man he used to know. An older Siebren, a wiser and crueler Siebren. Except he can’t be cruel to be the Captain of his own crew. They all listen to him without complaint or hidden betrayal. In their past friendship, Siebren has always been soft and caring for Harold. Maybe...just maybe, even in these circumstances, it might be the same?

“Well, Master Winston? What’s it going to be? Will you sign this willingly, or will I have to force your hand?”

He’s almost tempted to see how Siebren might force him, his mind immediately concocting explicit tales the likes of which not even the dirtiest of sea shanties could ever sing. Thank goodness he’s able to hide the smile behind his moustache. “Hand it over to me,” Harold sighs, faking stoicism.

With that hypocritical delicateness of his, Siebren hands the pen and paper over to Harold. Their fingers brush for just a second, a tidal wave of need and longing drenching Harold to the bone. He sees the flicker in Siebren’s eyes, cold still water now crashing upon blackened shores. Harold thinks for a moment that perhaps Davey Jones himself has turned him delirious, but then Siebren blinks, and the magic fades. 

Harold signs his name, and places a caricature of the moon beside it. He hands it back with less ceremony, being careful not to let his fingers drift across the surprisingly smooth expanse of Siebren’s hand once again. “If I get captured, I’m saying I got coerced into this.”

Siebren grins mischievously, and before Harold can make sense of the expression, his arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight one-armed hug. “Listen up, everybody. We now have ourselves a new Navigator, Master Winston. I want you to treat him with the respect deserving of our new Navigator, so no pranks and no name-calling for the first week. Tonight, we’re breaking out the Caribbean beer!”

There’s shouts of approval sounding all around Harold. The hand leaves his backside with a slight pat goodbye, and then he’s surrounded by the other pirates, changing their mannerisms and tone almost completely. Music starts playing, the sea shanties are being sung, and he’s swept in to the celebration. His eyes glance back at the entrance to the Captain’s quarters, Siebren staring back right at him. Millions of words die at the sword edge that is his tongue. A million words that might express to Siebren how Harold truly felt back in the Academy, and how he suspects that feeling has not faded much since then. A million words of gratitude, of anger, of grief, of relief, and so many more emotions. 

Later, when the celebrations cease, Harold will give a short, proper goodbye to Winston and Hammond, and he will pray that Davey Jones did not take them to his locker. Until then, he will sing along as badly as he can and make himself comfortable. After all, he’s going to be on this ship for a long time. 

#Sigrold #Overwatch #siebren de kuiper #overwatch sigma #Harold Winston #Of course the pirate skin brings me back to Sigrold #Not that I ever left it #I'll always love the space dads but now they're PIRATE DADS

[paulinedorchester]

Mosley, Leonard. Backs to the Wall: London Under Fire, 1939-1954. London: George Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1971; reprint, as Backs to the Wall: The Heroic Story of the People of London During World War II, New York: Random House, 1971.

Each generation gets the history that it needs — or wants, or demands. That’s what kept going through my head as I read Backs to the Wall, which appeared three years after France’s youth explicitly rejected both Charles de Gaulle, the self-appointed leader of the Free French during World War II, and the political ideology that he represented, and amidst ongoing unrest over the Vietnam War. (It’s also worth mentioning that it was published in the same year as Norman Longmate’s How We Lived Then: A History of Everyday Life During the Second World War and two years after Angus Calder’s The People’s War.) This book gives up a World War II narrative in which Churchill was an improvement on Chamberlain only in that he wasn’t an appeaser, de Gaulle was worse than both of them put together, the Allied leaders all cordially loathed each other, half the British public wanted to sue for peace, and there was across-the-board mutual dislike between London civilians and American troops (and British dismay at the way African-American troops were treated by their white counterparts was far from universal). Do I exaggerate? Only slightly. Backs to the Wall is a sort of distant, city-specific pre-echo of Juliet Gardner’s sour 2004 book Wartime: Britain, 1939-45.

As with Wartime, however, this book does have the virtue of introducing us to a number of very interesting people. I became interested in reading it because it brought Vere Hodgson’s wartime diary to public attention. Mosley quotes or paraphrases Hodgson’s writing from the beginning of the war through its end, and also seems to have interviewed her extensively. His primary villain, meanwhile, is not Chamberlain but Chamberlain’s chief acolyte, Henry “Chips” Channon, from whose diary he quotes widely (and who turns out to have been born and raised in the United States, to my surprise). We hear a great deal from the chemist and novelist C.P. Snow and follow the misadventures of two civilians, Jenny Martin and Polly Wright, whose consistency in both bad luck and bad choices meant that neither of them was able to stay out of serious trouble for any length of time.

There are many glimpses of the London home front through the eyes of two boys, both eight when the war began: John Hardiman, of Canning Town and later of Aldgate, who was evacuated in 1939 but soon returned to London, and Donald Ketley of Chadwell Heath, who was never evacuated at all. Donald, who thoroughly enjoyed himself during the war, had an experience that speaks to our own recent reality:

Another good thing: quite early in the Blitz, his school had been totally destroyed by a bomb. Since Donald was shy, a poor student and unpopular with his teacher, he was overjoyed when he heard the place was gone. Thereafter he went each day to his teacher’s home to pick up lessons, which he brought back the next day for marking. In the following months he changed from a poor student to an excellent one, and although he was aware that his teacher rather resented it, he didn’t care. 

Mosley also introduces us to Archibald McIndoe, the real-life counterpart of Patrick Jamieson, Bill Patterson’s character in the Foyle’s War episode ‘Enemy Fire.’ Art seems to have imitated life pretty accurately in that instance: he and his burn hospital in East Grinstead were apparently exactly like what was depicted, the only difference being that the hospital was set up in an existing hospital building, not in a requisitioned stately home.

Backs to the Wall seems to have been one of the earliest books to make substantial use of Mass-Observation writings. Most M-O diaries are anonymous, but there are two named diarists here who stand out. John James Donald was a committed pacifist whose air of lofty detachment as he observes the reactions of those around him to air-raids and other wartime event and prepares for his tribunal — which, in the end, he decides not to attend — quickly grows irritating. More interesting is Rosemary Black, a 28-year-old widow, in no small part because she differs markedly from what I had thought of as the archetypical M-O writer. Here’s her self-description on M-O documents: “Upper-middle-class; mother of two children (girls aged 3 and 2); of independent means.” Mosley continues:

She lived in a trim three-story house in a quiet street of the fashionable part of Maida Vale, a short taxi ride from the center of the West End, whose restaurants and theatres she knew well. She was chic and attractive, and lacked very few of the niceties of life: there was Irene, a Hungarian refugee, to look after the children; Helen, a Scottish maid, to look after herself and the house; and a daily cleaning woman to do the major chores.

Black took her children out of London at the beginning of the war but quickly brought them back, and when bombs began falling she kept them in place — air raids might be disruptive for them, but apparently relocation had been worse. She was very much aware that she was riding out the war in a position of privilege, and she often expressed guilt feelings; but this tended to fade away before her irritation at the dominance of “the muddling amateur or the soulless bureaucrat” in the war effort. Offering her services, even as a volunteer, proved very frustrating. “She was young, strong and willing; she typed, spoke languages, was an expert driver and had taken a course in first aid,” Mosley tells us, “but finding a job even as a chauffeur was proving difficult” in September 1940. (She actually wasn’t all that strong physically: as we learn, she suffered from rheumatism which grew worse during the war years and probably affected her outlook.)

Black was greeted with “apathy and indifference” by both A.R.P. and the Women’s Voluntary Service. Early in 1941 she was finally able to get a place handing out tea, sandwiches, cake, and so on to rescue and clean-up workers at bomb sites from a Y.M.C.A. mobile canteen. She was a bit intimidated by the women with whom she found herself working:

Their class is right up to the county family level. Nearly everyone is tall above the average and remarkably hefty, even definitely large, not necessarily fat but broad and brawny. Perhaps this is something to do with the survival of the fittest.

And the work did bring her some satisfaction, even if it was of the type that lent itself to being recorded with tongue placed firmly in cheek:

We had a pleasant and uneventful day’s work serving City fire sites, the General Post Office, demolition workers and Home Guard Stations, etc. We were complimented at least half a dozen times on the quality of our tea ... I think the provision of saccharine for the tea urns to compensate for the mean sugar allowance is my most successful piece of war work. What did you do in the Great War, Mummy? Sneaked pills into the tea urns, darling.

For all her good humor and astute observations, Mrs. Black was far from immune to tiny-mindedness. After an evening out in 1943 she wrote:

I had to wait some time for the others in the cinema foyer, and I was much struck, as often before, by the almost complete absence of English people these days, from the capital of England. Almost every person who came in was either a foreigner, a roaring Jew, or both. The Cumberland [Hotel] has always been a complete New Jerusalem, but this evening it really struck me as no worse than anywhere else! It is really dismaying to see that this should be the result of this war in defence of our country.

Indeed, Mosley cites the results of a multi-year Mass-Observation study that showed a marked increase in anti-Jewish views London’s general population over the course of the war. Since it’s just one study, and since I haven’t seen that study mentioned anywhere else, I am reluctant to trust blindly in its accuracy; and there’s also this:

The small flat which George [Hardiman] had procured for [his family] ... in Aldgate was cleaner and airier than the old house in Canning Town [which had been bombed], and the little Jewish children with whom John now went to school seemed to be cleaner than the ones in Elm Road; at any rate, he no longer came home with nits in his hair.

On the other hand, Mosley himself gives us only a fragmentary view of London’s wartime Jewish population: everyone seems to be either a terrified refugee or an impoverished East Ender. We hear nothing about the substantial middle- and upper-middle class population — mostly of German descent and in some cases German birth — that had already taken shape in Northwest London; and while we are briefly introduced to Sir David Waley, a Treasury official, in connection with the case of an interned Jewish refugee, we aren’t told that Waley himself was Jewish, a member of “the cousinhood.” On yet a third hand, Mosley also quotes other M-O surveys from the same period that indicate largely hostile attitudes to most foreigners in London, with Poles at the bottom of the ladder and the small Dutch contingent on top. (Incidentally, the book’s extremely patchy index identifies Vere Hodgson as a Mass-Observation diarist, which she wasn’t.)

Backs to the Wall closes with a very brief, remarkably non-partisan account of the 1945 general election and its immediate aftermath. “Neither side had any inkling of the way the minds of the British voters were turning,” he writes.

When [Churchill’s] friends suggested that he was a victim of base ingratitude, he shook his head. He would not have such a charge leveled against his beloved countrymen. Ingratitude? "Oh, no," he said quietly, "I wouldn’t call it that. They have had a very hard time."

The book is worth reading for the primary materials that it includes, but it probably tells us as much about the era in which it was written as about the period that it covers.  

#world war II #u.k. home front #london #non-fiction after the fact #recommended with reservations #long post

[sgmwesters]

╰ ❛ 💉 — › melisa asli pamuk. cis woman. she/her. . ╯ have you met meliha “millie” kaplan yet ? this thirty four year old capricorn has been living in the seattle area for two months. she makes a living as a fetal surgery attending, which is best suited for their direct, resourceful, ferocious, and secretive personality. ironic by alanis morissette is one of their favorite songs, and they’re written by em, 25, gmt, she/her, no triggers

B A S I C   I N F O R M A T I O N

full name: meliha leyla kaplan.

nickname(s): millie, mels.

age: thirty four (34).

date of birth: 11 january 1987, capricorn.

hometown: istanbul, turkey.

current location: seattle, washington.

ethnicity: caucasian.

nationality: turkish, uk citizenship.

gender: cis female.

pronouns: she/her.

orientation: she’s friends with olivia hayes, do with that information what you will.

religion: atheist.

political affiliation: n/a, cannot vote in the us.

occupation: fetal surgery attending.

living arrangements: large apartment.

language(s) spoken: english, turkish, french, dutch.

accent: a slight english accent on some words.

P H Y S I C A L    A P P E A R A N C E

face claim: melisa asli pamuk.

hair color: brown.

eye color: brown.

height: 5 ft 7.

weight: 122 lbs.

build: slender.

tattoos: none.

piercings: ears (multiple), nose.

clothing style: we love a powersuit vibe.

usual expression: softer than she would want it to be.

distinguishing characteristics: beauty spot under her lip.

H E A L T H

physical ailments: celiac.

neurological conditions: none.

allergies: nuts (highly allergic).

sleeping habits: not very well.

eating habits: again, not great.

exercise habits: does running away from your problems count?

emotional stability: sitting at a four currently, usually about a seven.

sociability: very sociable.

body temperature: colder than you think.

addictions: none.

drug use: experimented in college, but long stopped.

alcohol use: always.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

positive traits: direct, resourceful.

negative traits: ferocious, secretive.

fears: being alone.

F A V O U R I T E S

weather: leans towards warmer climates.

colour: red.

music: as long as it’s loud and she can sing along, she doesn’t mind.

movies: sleepless in seattle.

sport: netball.

beverage: vanilla milkshake.

food: chicken nuggets (but she’d lie and say it’s foie gras).

animal: horses, she had a couple growing up.

H E A D C A N O N S

meliha kaplan is the youngest of two children (with an older sister) born to a diplomat and a teacher in istanbul, turkey.

millie and her sister got the finest education her parents could afford to put them through during their time in turkey, which is where millie picked up the majority of her languages, and prides herself on the fact that she can speak them. she will use them as much as she can so that she doesn’t get rusty with them.

her family moved to england when she was thirteen following issues with both politics and her family. her parents kept her and her sister in the dark about the reasons behind the move, and to this day millie still isn’t sure - and she doesn’t want to know. she idolises both of her parents and wouldn’t want to ask questions that might change that.

millie worked hard during school to secure a place at cambridge university on their medicine programme, as she had always planned to do. that, and the fact that her sister had tried for the programme and not gotten on it also made her want it more.

while she was at cambridge, millie met olivia hayes through the universities support programme, wherein those in the years above were able to provide insights and tips to those in the years below.

although millie was a couple of years behind olivia, the two hit it off right away. it was almost troublesome how well the two got along, but thanks to cambridge, a lifelong partner-in-crime duo had been formed.

she’d been tempted to follow in the route of her friend with urology, but opted instead to specialise in fetal surgery, a specialism that she worked on in london, allowing her to be reunited with olivia who had finished at their alma mater a few years prior.

given the option to spread her wings further, millie was never going to turn it down. she applied for positions all over, internationally and in the uk, and was offered a position in new york - naturally, she was thrilled.

millie thrived in the city, being away from her family (further than she had been before) gave her a sense of freedom that she hadn’t felt properly before.

during her time in new york, millie reconnected thomas whitley. thomas was another attending at the hospital, and a friend that millie had known when she had first moved to england years prior. thomas had come from a strict catholic family, and found life in new york exciting as he was able to be himself - out and proud, and had a number of boyfriends that millie adored over the years to prove it.

in late 2016, thomas was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. both he and millie’s worlds shifted slightly, as they were confronted with his family coming out to new york to spend the last of thomas’s moments with him, still with no idea about his sexuality.

with that, thomas asked millie for a favor - millie was to pretend to be his girlfriend, which she didn’t mind doing. she was a free agent, and thomas was her best friend in the city - why wouldn’t she cover for him in the last moments of his life?

it was a fine plan, until his mother began to get very upset with the idea that her only son was not going to be married, that she would never be there for his big day: and an even bigger favor was asked of millie. thomas asked millie to marry him, and millie said yes. they married in early 2017.

the wedding wasn’t a large affair, mainly comprising of thomas’s friends and family since it was his last hurrah. they enjoyed the party, and despite the fact that there was no real love between them, millie had a good day as she chose to view it as a day celebrating their friendship.

they had thought thomas only had 12-18 months to live, but he managed to outlive the estimations, with thomas passing away three years after their fake marriage. within those three years, millie and thomas lived very much a “will & grace” style lifestyle, living in the same apartment but very much able to do as they wished - as if the rings on their fingers weren’t really there at all. it was all for show as his family has settled on living in the city with them (as not to miss his turn for the worst).

it’s now seven months after thomas passed away, and millie has outgrown her widow duties. she feels a fraud, with so many people believing in the marriage and that she was grieving for her husband, so has moved to seattle for something of a fresh start knowing that her friend olivia was to be there. millie feels guilty for having inherited thomas’s assets, especially since she didn’t see herself as a real wife. she has been spending the last couple of weeks getting herself settled, before starting her new job at seattle grace mercy west.

2 0 2 1    U P D A T E S

turned thirty four in january, i still can’t believe that we forgot about it @ angela

dating declan baker ?? about to be anyway it’s very early and actually quite sweet ??

she’s thriving and deserves the world that’s it that’s the 2021 update

more senior in the department than she was in the beginning i guess i wanna give her a bit more power cos i can

W A N T E D    C O N N E C T I O N S / P L O T S

always liked the idea of her dead husbands boyfriend, i feel like that could throw a few of the old curveballs into her life

maybe her older sister? would wanna talk it through first though thanks x

#━━ ✦ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐊𝐀𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 ❮ biography ❯ #newintros

[frei-und-schwerelos]

On Broadway, Old Shows and New Tricks (Jeff Lunden; NPR - April 2013)

Internet Interview Archive - 3/∞

*transcript under the cut*

When I was a teenager falling in love with the theater, I picked up a book called Broadway's Greatest Musicals. The sole criterion for inclusion was that a show run for at least 500 performances, which translates to about a year and a quarter.

How quaint.

I was thinking about that when I attended the 25th-anniversary performance of The Phantom of the Opera, now ranked as Broadway's longest-running musical ever. The show was in great shape — in some respects maybe better than when it opened — and I asked the Phantom's legendary director, Hal Prince, how often he came to see it in a year, expecting him to say once or twice. His answer surprised me.

"I see the show probably at least a dozen times a year, but I rehearse them four times a year," Prince says. "And it's a hell of a happy responsibility, you know what I mean? I'm very grateful for it."

Hugh Panaro plays the title character — here done up as The Red Death for the show's spectacular masked-ball scene — in The Phantom of the Opera, Broadway's longest-running show. Twenty-two years ago, Panaro made his debut with the show as Raoul, the male romantic lead.

Hugh Panaro, who plays the Phantom, has a unique perspective. His first stint with the show was 22 years ago, when he played the young lover Raoul. Over the years, Panaro has left the show to do other roles, but he's returned several times. All told, he's played the Phantom for over 1,700 performances.

While he says those rehearsals with Prince are crucial, part of what keeps things fresh for him is that he has played opposite so many actresses in the lead role of Christine. He doesn't have an exact count, but he can wager a guess.

"Fifteen, easily!" Panaro says. "And that's not counting understudies; that's counting girls that have held this contract, from the time I was Raoul 'til now. I get two Christines a week" — the part is daunting enough that a different actress performs at matinees — "and no two Christines are alike, which is the beauty of it. So I get a fresh pair of eyes every night, pretty much."

Getting It Right, Eight Times A Week

Up on West 51st Street at the Gershwin Theatre, production stage manager Marybeth Abel is putting a new actor into the role of the munchkin Boq in Wicked, the prequel to The Wizard of Oz, which will be celebrating its 10th anniversary this October. In her office backstage, she explains what she does.

"I always say my primary job is to make sure the show goes on every night as scheduled, and that we do it successfully and we get a standing ovation at the end of the night," Abel says, laughing.

So she works with the actors and the backstage crew — there are about 120 people on Wicked — to make sure the show runs smoothly eight times a week.

But she also takes charge of afternoon and evening rehearsals, teaching understudies and new performers their blocking — where to move onstage and when.

"Hands down, when you're in a long-run show, the best thing that happens is there's turnover in cast," Abel says. "That's the best thing that happens, because all those influxes of difference make everybody, like, step up!"

One of the new actors Abel has put in the show is Willemijn Verkaik, in the role of Elphaba — the green girl who becomes the Wicked Witch of the West. Verkaik is from the Netherlands and has played Elphaba in Europe in both Dutch and German. Now she's hit a trifecta, doing it on Broadway in English.

Even if she's following in the footsteps — literally — of Tony Award winner Idina Menzel, who created the role, she says she's found ways to make the part her own.

"You are an actor, so you have to play it yourself, and you have to make it believable; you have to believe it yourself, so you have to go on that journey yourself," Verkaik says. "And that is what the director helps you to do."

'It's Not A Factory Job'

Every show has a resident director, who acts as a liaison between the original creators and the cast. That's John Stefaniuk's job at The Lion King, which recently celebrated its 15th anniversary. He travels the globe overseeing as many as eight productions of the show, working closely with all the actors.

"It's not a factory job," Stefaniuk says. "You want to allow these actors to feel like actors and treat them as such; not feel like replicas of somebody else's show. It's being told by that person firsthand, rather than fifth-, sixth-, seventh-hand, because if you take a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy, soon it starts to lose its integrity. And I really think that's the core ... to really keep the integrity of what that audience had on the first night."

Ron Kunene has been with The Lion King for all 15 years, as a bass in the chorus. Born in South Africa, he has a second job on the show — helping actors in New York and in other companies with some of the African dialects, like the language the baboon Rafiki speaks.

"And it's based on clicks," Kuene says, demonstrating. "So, it's my duty to also teach."

But Kunene says what really keeps the show fresh for him is seeing the expressions on the faces of audience members. Panaro, over at The Phantom of the Opera, agrees.

"Every performance, there's a new audience out there," Panaro says. "And there may be a 12-year-old or a 13-year-old kid out there that wants to maybe do this for a living. And that's my story. You know, my parents brought me to see my first Broadway show when I was 12 years old."

And even though he's seen The Lion King hundreds of times, resident director Stefaniuk says it's never boring.

"I think after all these years, if it doesn't still send a shiver up my back, then I'm not doing my job," Stefaniuk says.

#they....misspelled her name #i fixed it but wow #wicked broadway #interview #archive #this one is still online #just to be sure #its here #*o

[lady-moonbroch]

Blood Donation: Claire Fraser

Full Name: Claire Saoirse McCarthy Fraser of Lovat (in short Claire Fraser)

Reason for name: Claire = clear, bright | Saoirse = freedom | McCarthy = her mother’s surname (Irish) | Fraser of Lovat = her father’s surname (Highland Clan)

Nickname: La Dame Blanche (the French equivalent of a witch or spirit, due to her knowledge as an apothecary and the aid she offers)

Family: Irvin Aidan Fraser of Lovat (father) || Catriona McCarthy (mother) || Róisín McCarthy (aunt) || Lachlan (Irvin’s childhood friend and brother-in-arms)

Age: 24 || Sex: Female || Blood Type: 0 || Height: 1,64 cm

Place of Birth: Beauly, Inverness, Highlands of Scotland

Birthday: 22nd of June 1730 (Summer Solstice)

Species/Race: Human \ Hereditary Sorceress

Ethnicity: Scottish \ Irish

Occupation: Healer \ Herbalist - Apothecary

Body Build: Toned and fit, hourglass shaped body, a well-proportioned mix of petit and curvaceous (large bosom, small waist and curvy hips)

Skin colour: Caucasian

Hair style: Usually straight, ending in loose curls. Otherwise braided and styled in half up-dos and embellished with ribbons of varying colours.

Hair colour: Auburn / Ginger (with a pinkish undertone).

Eye colour:  Her right eye is brown and her left eye is green.

Distinguishing Features: Soft dimples apparent when smiling, her heterochromia, light coloured freckles across her face and even less apparent ones on her body, three relatively small scars on her back from lash strikes, a couple of scattered small scars on her arms and legs.

Preferred Clothing: Rarely wears pants, enjoys dresses and skirts, often likes to wear her clan’s tartan, has a matching plaid patterned cloak which she embellishes with the Fraser badge. Her clothes of choice are usually simple, wears fancier clothes only on special occasions.

Accessories: earrings, rings and a couple of bracelets, her clan’s badge, plenty of ribbons and chokers.

Way of speaking: talks with a mix of a slight Irish / Scottish accent and idioms (brogue). She tries to speak as clearly as possible but it intensifies tenfold when she is angry. She speaks English, Gaelic, French and some Italian.

Illness (physical or mental): has mental trauma from the loss of her father and the witch trials that lead to her mother’s execution which manifests in nightmares and gloominess.

Skills/Abilities: 

Singing

Botany and herbalism

Basic knowledge of swordsmanship and archery

Playing the ocarina, the lute and the tambourine

Basic knowledge in painting

Knitting / Sewing

Farming and gardening

Cooking

Basic knowledge of carpentry

Horse riding

Magic Abilities:

Spell casting

Healing

Defensive magic

Elemental manipulation (mild)

Magical Medicine Manipulation | Potion Creation

Telekinesis & Telepathy

Precognition (manifested as dreams, but not often)

Necromancy and dark arts (used in very grave situations and it comes with a great cost)

Personality: 

Claire seems aloof and cold at first.  She's awkward and clammed in her shell but once comfortable she becomes a walking ray of sunshine. She’s very friendly and kind towards her friends. She can become slightly overprotective of them due to her worrying nature and often shows her mischievous side.

Her eyes are always sharp and keen when it comes to her loved ones, searching for the slightest change in their behaviour. She is a good listener and she will do anything for her friends. She wears her heart on her sleeve and speaks her mind frankly, often without thinking twice about the consequences. She wants people around her to laugh and smile sincerely and her clumsy, silly attics are more often than not a source of amusement for them.

Likes:

Reading books

Arts: singing, story telling, drawing, dancing

Helping others

Picking herbs and edible mushrooms, roots and berries from the forest

Gardening / Nature / Animals

Traveling

Children (although she’s a little awkward around them)

Being around people, often in the pub

Whiskey and ale

Dislikes:

Dishonesty

Mistreatment (especially of the less fortunate)

Prejudiced people 

Bad odour

Being touched by strangers 

Small spaces

Bugs

Relationships:

Le Comte de Saint Germaine: Comte was the was the first to find Claire as he walked the streets of Paris. After some hesitation she explained everything that had happened and led her here. He immediately took her under his wing, letting her stay in the mansion as if he was his own child and along with Leonardo became her tutor. Each taught her different skills, languages and good manners to fit in the society of Paris, but never allowed her to forget her homeland’s heritage. When she turned 18, Comte sent her to Edinburgh to study botanology and medicine and four years after she returns to the mansion to stay by his side as a way to thank him and repay him for his kindness and love. She adores Thyme and likes to play and give her treats as often as the Count allows it.

Leonardo Da Vinci: Claire met Leonardo the first day Comte brought her to the mansion. He lent her his shoulder and comforted her along with his old friend, became a doting friend and tutor for her that would proudly watch her grow and find her way to happiness again. She won’t admit it aloud, but Leonardo was actually her teenage crush. He, of course, knew it from the beginning and often teasingly offered to pose in nude for her as practice (in hindsight, she regrets not taking that chance). Even after spending many years apart their playful banter hasn’t changed. They still keep each other company, taking strolls while talking in the City of Light. She have tried to clean his room after she tripped on his anatomy books but soon gave up on the idea. She is often found cuddling and napping with Lumiére under the gazebo or in the rocking chair on the porch.

Vincent Van Gogh: She loves this ray of sunshine more than anything (who doesn’t). They often walk together in the forest or in town and brainstorm on ideas and impressions. He encourages her to not misunderstand his brother's words for aversion, but still watches them fondly when they bicker. She absolutely loves his work and admires his skills and takes up his offer to paint together when she has the time. Whenever the Dutch painter lacks inspiration or feels gloomy, she will sing to him or tell him a story to help his imagination stir. She always cares a small pouch full of nuts and berries for Brush, whom she finds absolutely adorable.

Theodorus Van Gogh: From the first time he saw her he was entranced by her unusual appearance and he, admittedly, struck her as quite a bonnie lad...until he opened his mouth to speak. They instantaneously began to bicker thanks to Theo’s acrimonious mannerisms and Claire’s quick temper. Despite this she was curious about his vocation, never having met an art dealer before and what impressed her the most was his passion. She slowly began to see the man behind the rough facade and was drawn into the sweetness he hid beneath his hard exterior, a side she witness in his time with Vincent and King. 

Arthur Conan Doyle: She found him attractive from the very beginning but the writer’s frivolous and indecently provocative ways filled her with dismay. She decided to keep a distance from him but was soon quite intrigued by his work. Both his writing skill and wit caught her interest, but it was also their common homeland that brought them closer and closer as the time passed by. Arthur invites her to the pub quite often, where they usually end up singing Irish and Scottish songs and teasing Theo out of his wits. After a while she begins to call him “Sassenach” as a word of endearment only used for him, betraying her growing fondness for the mystery writer. She enjoys taking long walks with him and Vic and talk about books and cases of mystery for Arthur’s new work.

Napoleon Bonaparte: They became friends rather quickly, thanks to Napoleon’s charisma and charm. She asked Napoleon to train her in combat and swordsmanship in order for her to improve her skills but they often cook together while they talk about history and their everyday shenanigans. She wants to help him enjoy this second chance in life, ease his troubles and insecurities about his life as a demi-vampire. They tease each other relentlessly, often causing a ruckus -much to Sebastian and Isaac’s dismay-. She’s very fond of Jupiter and enjoys to watch his encounters with her familiar, an albino raven named Glinda.

Jeanne D’ Arc: Although it took time for Jean to open up to her, he and Claire became close friends as time passed. They both bear a harsh past on their backs, and that helped to deepen their bond quickly. She was always saddened by his story, but doesn’t allow herself to pity him. She admires and holds great love and respect for him, standing at his side when his demons get the better of him. After much nagging, she convinced the soldier to spar and ride with her and Napoleon more often. She really loves Shelly and the two of them play often with the little cub in the garden.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: “You are too loud” he said, “You are too rude” she replied. That was the very first conversation between Mozart and Claire. She couldn’t believe there could be someone ruder than Theo, but she was wrong. It took plenty of time for them to connect on any level, both avoiding contact at all costs. Music was the bridge that finally brought them together, she enjoys listening to him play the piano, while Mozart enjoys hearing her sing, although he won’t admit it. their common friendship with Jean became another linking factor for them. She enjoys watching him being happy drunk, and will often teases him about it. The musician complains that Claire’s familiar is a bad influence on Schelm as they’re often seen together but she says he acts like an overprotective dad just to anger him further.

Dazai Osamu: It didn’t take too long for Claire to see behind his happy facade.  She became fond of him quickly and finds him endearing and funny but she can’t help to wish she could help him with the sadness that he hides behind his skilfully made-up smiles. She will often join him and Arthur when they tease Isaac or the other residents due to her mischievous nature. She is very interested in his work as an author as well as his culture, which is more than foreign for her and just enjoys talking to him as she silently admires his wit. She finds Bunta absolutely adorable, gives her treats and talks to her often when tends to the garden.

Isaac Newton: Although confused at first, the more she got to know Isaac the more she became fond of him. Poking fun at him with Arthur and Dazai and aggravating him never fails to put a smile on her face, albeit she knows when to stop and leave him be. She likes to listen to him talk about physics (although she cannot fully comprehend them) and joins him to stargaze when the night sky is clear. They often stroll in the city centre with Napoleon and watches them teach children at the alleyway. His clumsy way of showing his feelings make him all the more delightful in her eyes and the way he gets flustered so easily makes her eager to tease him. She finds little Harry adorable keeps an eye on him when he’s free to roam the garden of the mansion.

William Shakespeare: Although she is a huge fan of his work and no matter how much respect he has for the bard she remains highly suspicious of him. She is polite and friendly should he ever visit but she doesn’t have an ounce of trust for him and keeps her distance. Finds his bunny terribly cute, though.

Sebastian: She is quite fond of him, finds his quirks and his deadpan humour hilarious. She really respects his work around the mansion and admires his patience. They share mutual respect for Le Comte as well as the same curiosity and passion for history, thus if she coaxes any information from the residents she will transfer it to him (on her own volition she says). She loves to help him around with the housework and take some weight off his shoulders. Usually calls him “Bash”. She likes Rotte a lot and her knowledge of farm animals has been a huge help for Sebastian, especially when the little “Fräulein” needs trimming.

Paired with:  Arthur / Theodorus

_______________ A/N: Obviously Claire is very much inspired from Outlander (I love that series don’t judge me). Her common origins with Arthur were accidental (Doyle’s parents were actually Irish). And lastly there will be a fic about her background soon enough. Thank you for reading my OC extravaganza, lofk u!

#ikemen vampire #ikevam ocs #blood donation #ikevam leonardo #ikevam arthur #ikevam shakespeare #ikevam napoleon #ikevam mozart #ikevam saint germain #ikevam isaac #ikevam dazai #ikevam sebastian #ikevam jean #ikevam vincent #ikevam theodorus #finally I grew the balls to release my oc to the fandom #dear lord I am emotionally drained from this experience #how do people do this so often #honestly yall are braver than me

[ofaylin]

⌠ BAHAR SAHIN, 19 CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, AYLIN KALELI! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in LINGUISTICS, CULTURE, & ASSIMILATION AND RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (hair pulled back with a chanel ribbon, lycra boots with razor blades in the heel, champagne and french macarons in a bubble bath, wiping your tears with a $100 bill). when it’s the (leo)’s birthday on 8/3/00 they always request their FRENCH FRIES from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

STATS / PINTEREST / CONNECTIONS / CLASSES

INSPIRATION.

bex baxter – gallagher girls

carmen cortez – spy kids

blair waldorf – gossip girl

cher horowitz – clueless

torrance shipman – bring it on

jackie burkhart – that 70s show

cordelia chase – buffy the vampire slayer

tahani al-jamil – the good place

BACKGROUND + CLICK FOR BIO.

both of her parents work for the national intelligence organization of turkey, they’re big shots and they make a lot of money! she has two older sisters and she’s born into a world of wealth and expectations. 

it won’t take her long to learn more languages than years she has lived, and waking up early to run drills and do obstacle courses with her sisters is routine.

picture perfect on the outside, the household within goes through turmoil. her mother is promoted to the director of the NIO and it puts a strain on her parent’s relationship. 

her father starts taking more business trips, and aylin and her sisters spend nights sitting on the top of the stairs, listening in on phone conversations. aylin’s the youngest, so she doesn’t really understand what’s going on and needs to have it broken down.

aylin had always LOVED her parent’s love story – they met on a mission and they were partners for years, it’s all very romantic. so the divorce leaves her confused. how could you stop loving someone? how could you just give up?

both of her parents are an active part of her life, the divorce is…fairly amicable and they share custody. the only thing aylin doesn’t like is her father’s new girlfriend, young and totally uninvolved in the world of espionage. the girl could be her sister. 

aylin spends her time split between two houses, half-belonging to each, but her parents feel GUILTY so aylin quickly learns how to use that guilt to get what she wants, whether it’s freedom or material goods.

she’s a little spoiled, but it doesn’t satisfy her. nothing really does, it just makes her feel sort of empty, so she works harder, filling time with books and training with her older sisters who tell her cool stories from their spy prep schools and teach aylin things they’ve learned when they come home for breaks. 

aylin long for the day when she’s not splitting your time between other people’s homes and she’s in a place that she can really call her own.

she goes to the same spy prep school that her older sisters did in london. she’s competitive from the get-go because she’s a kaleli and people already expect things from her to begin with. she smiles when people call her by her sister’s name or mention her mother, but inside she’s seething, eager to prove that she’s good because she works hard, not because she’s someone’s sister or daughter.

it’d be a lie to say that aylin didn’t step on a few toes, and the way she skyrocket to valedictorian is a little less than savory.

she has her pick of spy prep colleges across the nation, but her mom really encourages her to choose gallagher. why? that’s weird, her mom never went there and neither does the rest of her family! but aylin really likes the idea of a place that’s all hers and she’s always wanted to see america, so she chooses it. 

she’s a bit smug about being ahead of others because she’s been reading books on espionage since age 4, and if you don’t know sixteen languages, stay out of her way.

PERSONALITY:

PROUD. aylin is a very proud person, she grew up in an affluent household with important parents. when faced with a challenge, it’s her pride that tends to motivate her to be the best because she feels like she has something to prove, and she’ll turn her nose up at you until she gets it. this also makes her stubborn.

INTELLIGENT. aylin was raised in an environment where she was being trained since her childhood, knowing about espionage since she could speak, but she also has an iq of 122, so not quite genius level but she’s getting there. she’s the head cheerleader type that you’d be surprised is actually really good at math.

HARD-WORKING. queen of taking on too many extracurriculars at all times! honestly she tends to overexert herself until she burns out, but she wants it all – the exciting social life, the straight As, the meaningful connections, the parties, when does she sleep? maybe never.

SNOBBISH. honestly, she doesn’t mean to come off as a snob but she definitely does because she hasn’t really known anything other than crystal dishware and fancy clothes. she doesn’t even comprehend that other people don’t come from the same place of privilege that she has.

FUN-LOVING. the girl you want to party with! just because she’s a good student, she wouldn’t want you to think that she doesn’t know how to have a good time. aylin operates in extremes, so she parties just as hard as she studies and has a tendency to get carried away, but let it be known that she’s doing this for herself and not for anyone else’s attention.

MANIPULATIVE. aylin will step on toes to get what she wants, and she’s not scared to fight dirty. she tends to stay in the lines of what’s legal of course, but if she sees a window into getting what she wants, she’ll say what she needs to in order to get it. honestly, she can be a bit callous with the way she uses people and doesn’t always understand the effects of her actions. she would tell you that the ends justify the means. yikes.

INDEPENDENT. doesn’t need you or anyone else and wants you to know it. her confidence is genuine and real, and she doesn’t attribute any of her accomplishments to her family name – she’s not insecure about it, she knows that she’s good at what she does.  

HEADCANONS.

started school early, so she’s a bit young for her grade by a year. she sees this as a positive thing and will brag to you about how she’s younger AND smarter. annoying.

acts like she really likes healthy food and eats a salad in public ( will tell you that’s her favorite food ) but she’s weak for things that are greasy and fried and will be pigging out in secret. her favorite food is french fries but you probably wouldn’t guess that about her !

LANGUAGES SHE KNOWS: english, french, turkish, arabic, german, kurmanji, italian, dutch, spanish, mandarin, japanese, latin, hindustani, malay, russian, bengali. some are better than others and some she reads more than she can really speak.

taught herself to skateboard since coming to america since it seemed like the thing to do based on watching american films. she will ride her little penny board in high heels around campus and loves it ! and you thought i couldn’t make her more annoying !

tons of expensive lingerie but u can look but don’t touch.

has a little stuffed rabbit in a tutu that she got as a baby named  dans tavşanı, and she always sleeps with it lol. however, it was recently stolen in her luggage when she was traveling home after the semester and she misses it a lot.

started drinking bc she wanted to be like her sisters and fit in and she’s fun to party with, but has never seen or touched a single drug in her life, not even weed. with parents that work for the government, she’s concerned about it. 

super into classic romances, her favorite book is pride and prejudice and jane austen is her favorite author! loves classic romance movies too, or anything by norah ephron. she’s lowkey a romantic and needs to be romanced and feel special before she’d ever consider dating someone or even crushing on them, really. scary movies freak her out though, she will lose her shit at a jump scare. 

her parents are not super strict about their religion, but she doesn’t eat pork and her dad doesn’t keep any alcohol in the house. she definitely keeps a lot of secrets from her parents, and they don’t know that she’s ever had a boyfriend. 

lowkey a HUGE nerd !!!!!!! 

leo with a virgo rising and cancer moon. i am so SORRY !

#there's only a couple tweaks in here but not much new #just wanted a new graphic #gallagher:intro

[slurrmp]

not another info sheet.

                                        sasha o’neill (stargate sg1)

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: sasha maria o’neill PRONUNCIATION: SASH-ə MEANING: defender, helper of mankind REASONING: named after her mother’s grandmother NICKNAME(S): sash (most common), ash, asha, kid PREFERRED NAME(S): just her full name or sash BIRTH DATE: october 20th 1972 AGE: 33 (as of season 9) ZODIAC: libra GENDER: female PRONOUNS: she/her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual NATIONALITY: american ETHNICITY: white CURRENT LOCATION: colorado springs, cheyenne mountain LIVING CONDITIONS: a little apartment in the city, but will mostly stay at jack’s home. TITLE(S): miss

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: san francisco HOMETOWN: fairfax SOCIAL CLASS: fairly wealthy, but not exactly rich EDUCATION LEVEL: almost finished college FATHER: angus o’neill (deceased) MOTHER: maria o’neill (nee barnes) (mia) SIBLING(S): none BIRTH ORDER: only child CHILDREN: none PET(S): a pet gold fish named bruce, however, is too busy with work to actually have the dog she always wanted. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: jack o’neill (uncle), sara o’neill (aunt), charlie o’neill (cousin) (deceased) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: max turner (four years), jonas quinn (two years), cameron mitchell (??) ARRESTS?: when she was a teenager and her father passed away, and her mother basically disowned her - sasha rebelled against her aunt and uncle, doing petty crimes such as shop lifting and grand theft PRISON TIME?: spent two nights in the county jail for stealing a car from the mayor

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: working for the sgc SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: it’s really disguised as working for the air force TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: she writes a column in the local paper APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: uhhhh couldn’t tell you, but it’s enough to live comfortably CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: very much so PAST JOB(S): worked at a fast food chain until she was 17, then worked for a supermarket (but was caught stealing & was fired) SPENDING HABITS: she knows what she loves and will always buy what she needs MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: her father’s dog tags, which she constantly wears around her neck

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: she was a cheerleader in high school before her father passed - moving into senior year of high school, sasha locked herself away from others and herself - which meant that she wasn’t as physically fit as she used to be. she was never overweight, but she couldn’t do a cartwheel to save her life anymore. however, joining the sgc - she’s managed to gain back her fitness and once again can do that cartwheel. OFFENSE: no DEFENSE: yes. her fighting style is more protect her body than anything else. SPEED: she’s not incredibly fast, but if something is chasing her, she has the will to go faster. INTELLIGENCE: rather intelligent, however, it is less mathematical smart and more historical smart. ACCURACY: she grew up in a military family, she’s very accurate AGILITY: after working back her fitness, sasha’s very good at climbing walls and leaping across tall buildings. STAMINA: it’s fairly good but no where near as good as it should be TEAMWORK: she depends on her team to survive and they depend on her to keep them alive TALENTS: can translate a different language within an hour, rather good at the piano SHORTCOMINGS: she’s judgemental, snippy and can be rather short with people. all in all it’s that o’neill charm LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, german, russian, dutch and japanese DRIVE?: yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes, badly though SWIM?: yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: kind of, without practice she loses her skill PLAY CHESS?: no (daniel’s trying to teach her though) BRAID HAIR?: yes TIE A TIE?: yes PICK A LOCK?: yes

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: alyssa milano EYE COLOR: brown HAIR COLOR: brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: there’s almost a different style each year. season one: short and almost in a bob. season two: it has grown out more and now reaches her shoulders - curls. season six: it was shaved almost completely off. season three, four, five, seven, eight, nine and ten: it remains at shoulder length and wavy. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: only for when she’s reading DOMINANT HAND: right HEIGHT: 5′2″ WEIGHT: 60 kg BUILD: athletic EXERCISE HABITS: spars with teal’c once a week, while also uses the gym equipment at the sgc twice a week SKIN TONE: pale, but is able to tan rather easily TATTOOS: one on the back of her neck and one on the left side of her lower back PEIRCINGS: both lobes, including seconds, has her nose pierced as well MARKS/SCARS: there is a birthmark over her left hip. a scar just on the right side of her upper lip (which she got when she fell over on the driveway of her family home when she was six), a scar through her left eyebrow - which eerily is like jack’s, however, it was given to her on a mission NOTABLE FEATURES: her eyes and the mirroring scar in her eyebrow, just like jack. USUAL EXPRESSION: she is beaming most of the time - bright and bubbly expressions CLOTHING STYLE: very modern, loves a crop top and low cut jeans, but while she’s on base it is the typical sg uniform. blue fatigues mostly, considering the green makes her look sick JEWELRY: nothing too fancy considering her line of work, a couple of rings and bracelets ALLERGIES: peanuts, bees BODY TEMPERATURE: a normal body temperature DIET: she’s lived with jack for most of her life, it mainly consisted of bbq steak and when she was old enough beer. donuts, and snacks. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: continuously breaks limbs, but nothing too serious to bench her from off world work.

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: enfj ENNEAGRAM TYPE:  the achiever MORAL ALIGNMENT:  chaotic good ELEMENT: air PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE:  logical-mathematical APPROXIMATE IQ: 124 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: struggles with ptsd after the death of her father and the events that have occurred in her life so far SOCIABILITY: very out going and loves to meet new people EMOTIONAL STABILITY: she’s been hurt so many times that sasha has started to pull away from anything emotional lately, so not good, but she hides it well with her outgoing personality OBSESSION(S): making sure that everything is perfect, making sure that missions will go correctly and nothing bad will happen. PHOBIA(S): tight spaces, spiders, flying, ADDICTION(S): none DRUG USE: none ALCOHOL USE: limited, loves a good beer every sunday afternoon PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: if push came to shove

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE:  she’s very articulate with her words. when the occasion calls for it, she can speak in a rather professional manner. but when she’s around friends or family, she won’t talk quite as stiff ACCENT: very clearly a west coast accent QUIRKS: she bounces a lot when she’s excited or even happy. it’s absolutely because she’s the shortest of the group and it makes her feel tall HOBBIES: reading is a big one - basically what she does to escape the ‘real world’, mainly romance and comedy novels because horror/sci-fi and action is what she lives on a daily basis HABITS: she has a habit of biting her lower lip, usually when she’s thinking or worried.  NERVOUS TICKS:  bounces her leg up and down when nervous, she will also pace a lot DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: one is absolutely to save the world from the goa’uld, while the others is her family and her friends FEARS:  losing said family and friends. she has a terrible habit of latching onto people she’s met - which isn’t good in her line of work. however, it helps her  POSITIVE TRAITS:  loyal, strong willed, will fight for her family NEGATIVE TRAITS:  falls in love too easily, tries to see the best in everyone - which usually gets her into trouble SENSE OF HUMOR:  very dry, it’s that o’neill sense of humour though DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?:  on and off CATCHPHRASE(S):oh for crying out loud

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: reading ANIMAL: fox BEVERAGE: beer BOOK: pride and prejudice CELEBRITY: brad pitt COLOR: pastel brown DESIGNER: vera wang FOOD: fried rice FLOWER: sunflower GEM: diamond HOLIDAY: christmas MODE OF TRANSPORTATION:  mini cooper MOVIE: sleepless in seatle MUSICAL ARTIST: elton john SCENERY: snowy day next to a fireplace in the city SCENT: lavender SPORT: football SPORTS TEAM: 49ers TELEVISION SHOW: simpsons WEATHER: winter VACATION DESTINATION: bora bora

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: to see the goa’uld destroyed and to have her family safe GREATEST FEAR: to lose the planet and her family MOST AT EASE WHEN: things are going the right way, no matter the scenario - could be in the middle of a mission, but as long as she knows what’s she’s doing, sasha can breeze through it LEAST AT EASE WHEN:  everything is going wrong, mainly when missions stuff up. as well as when she has no control over a situation WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: one of the alternate world’s reality, becoming her reality. the goa’uld taking over the world and enslaving humanity BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: finally getting into college BIGGEST REGRET:  losing her daughter MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT:  it’s not everyday that you come face to face with a new species, it’s also not everyday that you decide to trip UP stairs when coming to greet them, falling flat on her face and breaking her nose BIGGEST SECRET:  max and sasha were expecting a baby - but they were not compatible and the baby died during the first trimester, she never told anyone besides janet TOP PRIORITIES: her job and her family

#ch. sasha o'neill. #promise that you'll never find another like me. #* & MEET MY OC'S. #stargate