#the dad of the railway train | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

winwintea · 11 days

Text

dreamies as your disney world boyfriend

pairing ▸ boyfriend!dreamies x reader author's note ▸ i am working on the SERIES I PROMISE GUYS... it's just quite long... oops. i needed to channel my inner disney for inspiration for this sorry. the prompt seemed to make more sense in my head so i guess it's just, 'dreamies at disney' now lol. ALSO SOME DISNEY TERMINOLOGY in there i apologize. should make sense but if it's confusing ask me lmfaooo

mark lee

photographer boyfriend obviously

doesn’t even complain about how many photos you want to take

is actually dying inside but hides it away with dad jokes to cope with the pain

“it’s not even noon yet and dis-knees are killing me bro”

will only complain about the heat

“It’s like we’re on the surface on the sun dude… like satan’s armpit. that’s crazzzzyy.”

you couldn’t help but laugh

but then he just KEPT GOING

“it’s like we’re in the inside of a mouth… there are things sticking to things that-”

and you cut him off right there.

can’t help the fact that bro is a D1 yapper.

will not wear mickey ears though no matter how much you beg him to :(

favorite ride: slinky dog dash

least favorite ride: dumbo

huang renjun

the boyfriend that actually disney bounds with you

so y’all are disney bounding as nick wilde and judy hopps from zootopia (renjun’s idea)

chenle took him to shanghai disney once, so he’s a big fan of duffy and friends

oh how disappointed he was when he realized that the mascots don’t exist in WDW

“preferred parking? i would prefer parking to be free, thank you very much.”

mood is very sour upon entering

“i know you’re cold but i did tell you to bring a jacket.” rude.

however once you two start collecting your first character signature he’s locked in

somehow more excited to meet the characters than the kids are? (ur 24. reality check!)

he gets more into it as the day goes on

YOU BET HE’S WEARING THE MICKEY EARS.

although he already had fox ears on to begin with anyways

favorite ride: mickey & minnie’s runaway railway

least favorite ride: seven dwarfs mine train (it was too short)

lee jeno

foodie boyfriend

wants a turkey leg like really badly

“that guy has a turkey leg… sir- um sir- where did you get that turkey leg”

you have to bribe this man with food.

which honestly is okay by you because you just wanna take photos of the food.

"yknow with this ride being 50 years old, you'd think they could've made the boats a little bigger. have to man spread now"

whatever you’re thinking of, that’s literally not what he meant.

he’s an innocent lil guy. (seriously, it just came out wrong.)

holds ur hand on all rides.

let’s you grab onto his muscles arms while you are nervous on the thrill rides

no mickey ears though. (it’s the bow that always throws them off)

favorite ride: rise of the resistance

least favorite ride: teacups

lee haechan

out of pocket boyfriend who will not stfu

“bambi’s the only movie i really couldn’t watch… i could not be as strong as bambi”

after you give him the, “wtf” look he just continues. on.

“cause if my mom died well… there goes my friend group.”

will randomly start singing disney songs in the middle of waiting for a ride.

in those show/ride/attractions he’s the only one clapping and screaming.

especially true for the beauty and the beast sing-a-long attraction, cause yknow he’s gonna scream his lungs out.

yeah he’ll wear mickey ears, but you bought him a goofy hat instead. It was more fitting.

“can’t believe disney made a character after me… should i sue?”

also complains a lot. way too much.

“EPCOT? more like every person comes out tired.”

favorite ride: pirates of the caribbean (he kept making a booty joke over and over again)

least favorite ride: toy story midway mania (bc he lost)

na jaemin

hardcore boyfriend photographer (pt 2) + ‘mom’ boyfriend

man knows all your best angles and where to take photos

“picture, picture over here… yes yes right… in front of the castle angel. oh that’s so pretty… in… in… down… up… okay! smile!”

you two spend like half the day taking photos, jaemin needs to show off his gf ofc.

cares for you the whole entire day, makes sure you drink enough water

aggressively refills your waterbottles every second he gets.

“when it doubt, chug it out! (cue jaemin chugging his own bottle)

he unfortunately will not wear mickey ears. (jaemin i believed in you.)

he’s not the one being taken photos of, so no mickey ears for him.

“princess i don’t wanna hear it. the humidity is good for you. this is like nature’s pore declogging.”

favorite ride: frozen ever after

least favorite ride: none (bc he did everything with u <3)

zhong chenle

in between buying you everything and calling everything too expensive boyfriend

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET A MEMBERSHIP WITH CLUB 33.

this man pulls you into that sus green building on main street, and your jaw drops.

club 33, is an exclusive, membership only restaurant at disney. it’s like an elite society filled with rich upper class, but at disney. (never been inside not sure how to describe it but oh boy is membership expensive.) the waitlist got so long in 2007, they closed it for 5 years. look it up on wikipedia disney lore goes hard

“i just asked a couple of friends, and they recommended me this place.” boy.

you’re panicking because you’re severely underdressed. (you’re in a jessie costume.)

he reassures you, since you’re at disney, and being dressed like this is normal.

once u have one of the most expensive meals of ur life, chenle drags u to every single thrill ride.

he also buys you a balloon and a bubble wand <3

but for some reason when you arrive at the gift shop he realizes he’s spent a lot.

“okay enough gift shop. look away from the gift shop. this vacation already has us in poverty.”

AND BRO ACTS LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TRIP IM NOT KIDDING.

he’ll buy you a nice meal at one of the restaurants and then…

“we’re not getting churros they’re 5 dollars.”

no mickey ears either why do you even ask

“next time i’ll take u to shanghai, it’s better okay?”

favorite ride: tower of terror

least favorite ride: it’s a small world after all

park jisung

anti-disney everything boyfriend

gets frustrated at everything. cannot read the map.

when he goes on small world…

he severely questions his mental sanity. like actually guys i think he needs help.

“this ride is for kids.”

the ride in question: the barnstormer! a 40 second kiddie roller coaster that has top speeds of up to 25mph!

literally jisung’s 13 reason.

he was screaming his little heart out poor baby.

“I’m not wearing those. Stop.” you do not stop. “Take these off of me right now.”

he wears the ears for half of the day though so a win is a win.

“we’re going to the other park? we’re not going home? there’s 3 more??????”

favorite ride: none

least favorite ride: all

141 notes · View notes

cherubispunk · 2 months

Text

BARK! BITE! BLEED! (INTERLUDE) - FWB!Frankie Morales x AFAB!Reader

summary: the sting of biting one’s tongue is a lesser of two evils compared to the sting of rejection.

a note from Lucy: Not really a full part but still important to the storyline. Just a little bit of a deeper look into the reader and Frankie’s relationship, their characters and their ideas of each other.

playlist | moodboard

wc: 3046

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! no use of y/n, obsessive behaviour, frankie is obsessed and it is very unhealthy, toxic relationships, age gap (reader is 21, Frankie is 27) - though not mentioned in this part, graphic smut, oral (f receiving), face sitting, p in v sex, creampie, biting, softdom!frankie, scratching, references to suicide, references to racial discrimination and othering in American school systems.

“Is it your smile I enjoy…or the parts of me still stuck in your teeth?”

Some days Frankie liked to pretend you were a map. Easy to read. The landmarks recognisable on top of your skin. The world growing with you, shifting over bone. Breathing with life. The valley of your breasts. The bridge of your hips. The high street that was your spine. At the top of the high street, just over the fleshy part at the nape of your neck, was a library. It was locked. Always. Sometimes he would look through the window to see if anyone was still there. Peer in through grimy glass to expect someone thumbing through pages of a book, folding the corners to mark a quote, or a passage that held particular resonance. Alas, they were plastered with dated newspapers and rotting boards nailed to the over closed shutters. So he wandered back down, past the railway tracks of one rib, the empty children’s playground of another. The church on your sternum. The graveyard had no flowers by headstones. Half were smothered by a thick blanket of browning moss. Others were merely so caked in grime and crumbling that names were illegible. And passed over the bridge to the empty bandstand of your navel. Where music would play if someone gave the time of day. Behind him were footprints of marks he left with his teeth. A need to show himself he had been here. I have been here.

Behind the bandstand, deeper in, on a small mound of a hill, lay a wooden gate. And beyond the gate was an orchard fenced off from the rest. Here, Frankie would indulge his selfish tongue in the sweet fruit. Between two trunks of apple trees. Bite after ripened bite. The juice was full with a sweet flavour and sticky as it dribbled down his chin. Stained his fingers with their residue when he wiped his mouth. But there was a sharp aftertaste. And before he knew it the apple rotted in his hand. Dropped to the dew dappled grass and damp dirt.

It was always quiet in that town he roamed. No train on the tracks to go clickety-clack. No child on the swings giggling ‘higher dad!’. No busker at the bandstand humming the hymn of god loving us back. Just him. Eerie and silent with only his footsteps to accompany the low murmur of the tree conversing with the blackbird. And the gutters slugged with stagnant rain. He avoided pavement cracks. His mother would save her back. He rounded ladders. It cut himself seven years of slack. Nothing bad would come of it either way. That map was his mind's creation. So he kissed you hard enough to invert you. Fucked you hard enough to invert you. Maybe then he would see what was inside. What wallowed under your skin and festered hot in the gaps between? Each atom of each cell was a stone he wished to turn over. Because there must be something. You had your walls for a reason. Maybe it was written on you like a book? Carved into flesh, a signature he could run a finger over after reading. Behind the backs of your lids, under the tips of your nails. The crook of a knee or elbow. Or he’d trace the freckles on your skin like constellations. Using them like sailors in the archaic times to pass through uncharted waters. Scylla would come and feast on his weathered ship soon enough. Drag him to Davy Jones’s locker. No vessel of good intent crossed your choppy waters before.

You both agreed that you were not a mother. A wife. A bride. Or anything else he might want you to be other than human. You were happy with your independence. You didn't want to throw anything away just yet. Not at all. Not for a long, long while. You set ground rules. Had a straightforward argument that you bought up without the need for him to ask what this consisted off.

“We tell each other when we have had sex with someone else.” Seemed easy enough to Frankie. “And wear protection with them too.” Another valid request. “But most of all, no feelings. I don’t care who you sleep with, or what you do with them, and if you meet someone who you really hit it off with then we call it quits. But if you start to feel even a shred of something more, Frankie, that's it. We call it.”

That had poor Francisco swallowing back a lump in his throat before it could choke the reply back down him. His stomach felt hot, and burned all of a sudden as he tried to digest what you had said. A knot consisting of a livewire thrummed in his gut and made his skin flush. And it irked him to no end.

Frankie remembered his years as an outsider. In a school where the white outnumbered the other. A child of immigrants, lucky enough to have skin that passed. He heard stories of a boy who sat two rows down from him in his American history class. A boy with dark skin and textured hair. Who was teased about his colour. Who threw himself from a bridge because every time he looked down at his hands, darker than those of other students, he felt like he didn’t belong. Frankie felt it too. He could memorise the names of presidents. He could recite that the capital of Texas was Austin. That the United States of America were at war with the United Kingdom from the twelfth of April 1861 to the thirteenth of May1865. But no matter how much of a textbook he would splurge out from between his lips he was always from the outside looking in. It made him wonder in silence to his pillow if he would ever belong. If any fact, or word, or story would make him fit in. He’d have even the gaps between two. He’d squeeze into it, no matter how small, and make it his to belong in. He thought the army would be his ticket in. That if he served a country he would earn his place in it. A foolish thought. For even now, looking at you, he felt the chill from the other side of the window pane. The side in the cold.

While you lay draped in bed, strewn out like the sheets, smoking a cigarette in languid drags, he thought to himself how little he truly knew. Yes he knew about America. But not a sentence about you. Your past. Yes, he knew you did your laundry on Sundays. You came home from the bar you worked in at 1:00. But nothing of note. Nothing important. Part of him liked it. Mystery left room for the mind to entertain. Often fantasy was far more intriguing than reality and it made you seem all the more interesting. A comfort to know he wasn't wasting his time on no one; But rather devoting it to someone. However, the other part— the part of him that watched smoke serpentine from the glowing end of your cigarette— hated it. The way it felt in his gut. Anxiety. He felt it before. But never in this situation. In combat he knew he didn't have time for it. It didn't ululate or linger. It was there, then he swallowed, and it wasn't. Now? Well…he had these moments between. Moments where you would light a cigarette, inhale, exhale. And he would watch as your chest rose, then fell in a pattern enough to hypnotise him. Something so simple as your breathing engaged him. Frankie wondered what it would be like; to live under your skin and have the steady up and down lull him to sleep at night. A rocking back and forth. To and fro. Up and down. Belonging. Moments where he would trace the line of your spine with his eyes. Too scared to touch what wasn’t his until he would bite his tongue and press a single finger to the dip and back down its soft curve. Earlier in the evening, when the sky started to stain tangerine, you had been canting your hips into his, dragging up and down on his length and singing his praises in a breathy chorus. Lost on the feeling of the stretch. The welcome invasion. Then you did the same with his face. Clit brushing zealously over the hooked, aquiline bridge of his nose. Your slick devoured by his wanting mouth. Frankie was the river that ran and unravelled in valleys to feed into your ocean. He hated being in the dark. Only when he fucked you did he have a chance at turning on a light.

“Read it.” He mumbled, nodding to the book in your hands, and rolling over between your thighs to part them. A classic of some century long past. One he never cared much for. But he wanted something. Needed something to tell you to do. Or just something to say. Because the silence was torture for his lonely mind.

You were halfway through stubbing your cigarette into the chipped ceramic dish on your bedside table when he spoke. “What?” You asked, tilting your head in curiosity, eyes searching his. As if the answer lay in their storm-brewing shade of chestnut. Although in the dark, under nothing but halogen street lamp glow, they looked a lot more like black. A nothingness that promised the existence of something.

“I said,” Frankie mumbled again, his voice firm, low and with a gravely finish to it that was just like him. Rough around the edges. Hard to part with. “Read it.” and then, Out loud.”

The words were smudged into the skin of your thigh as he trailed his lips over the inside of the right. His hands skimmed down the outside and squeezed plush flesh. Plump and smooth. Small divots of silver stretch marks on your flesh like ink carved into flesh. Hand painted by some deity in the sky that paid no mind to him now. When he traced his mouth higher he stuck out his tongue. You were wet and hot with his breath and his spit, his come too, still sticky between your thighs at the apex of them. Your very centre. Where his prominent, aquiline nose traced through your folds before his tongue flicked your clit once. “Frankie…” you whined, toes curling. Because you were so sensitive. So worn and stretched and aching. He hushed you, taking liberty over the time where he called the shots. When he was able to bend you to his will and have your head spinning dizzy instead. He didn't feel so motion sick when that was the case.

“Shhh…” he soothed, and pressed the flat of his tongue to your aching sex where heat melted and spread out through your limbs, seeping into muscle and unwinding tension. “Just read…”

Silence. And he thought he may have taken it too far. Finally sent you over some indiscernible edge that appeared too quickly for him to press the brakes. But then your honeyed voice filled his ears;

“Orpheus wished and prayed, in vain, to cross the Styx again, but the ferryman fended him off. Still, for seven days, he sat there by the shore, neglecting himself and not taking nourishment. Sorrow, troubled thought, and tears were his food.” You started, eyes blurring under the hazy weight of pleasure. His tongue delved a little deeper, circled your clit, flicking over the hood of it once, twice, thrice in quick laps. The tip of it pressed to a point and rolled it in careful, full circles. Your nerves thrummed like livewires, humming the same way telephone lines would in a hot summer rainstorm. Where heat lightning flashed ahead.

“Pretty pussy all used and fuckin’ soaked still.” He murmured into you slick, now in a generous shine across his chin. You whined, keening your hips up so his nose pressed to your mound and the smattering of curls there. He lay belly flat to the mattress, hips rutting slowly in tandem with the torturous, bold, and thick laps of your cunt. “C’mon, baby. Léeme a mí. Keep going.”

You read on, lips quivering, words dying by the dragging slice of a moan, a whimper, or simpering whine. Toes curling as his tongue lapped at you. “Three times the sun had ended the year, in watery Pisces, and Orpheus had abstained from the love of women, either because things ended badly for him, or because he had sworn to do so. Yet, many felt a desire to be joined with the poet, and many grieved at rejection.”

His mouth made a sinful soaking sound, wet and generous and full of your taste. “Que cosa mas linda.” He crooned into your cunt, lips smearing into your drenched sex while you stumbled over the words on your page. “Coño— tan mojado, bebita.” You whimpered again, a pathetic sound, fingers daring to curl into the thick head of brown hair at the crown of his head and press him deeper— because, god, you had never wanted something so carnally in your life. “Son deliciosas.” The glint of wanting in his eyes was like the blade of a knife catching the light. A flash of warning before it sliced tender flesh and let blood bleed red. You watched in quivering liquid smooth heat while he tasted, and favoured, and lusted over the seam between your thighs. It was such a pretty sight. Such a wonderful feeling of freedom that sat aching and twisting in your belly. The feeling of impending relief— release. A little death.

“I cant–” You gasped, legs jolting before the malleable, soft and round swell of your thighs clamped over his ears. Your core bearing down on the plane of his nose at your clit and his tongue that dipped in and out of your slick, drooling hole. Large hands, rough to touch, unforgiving and telling, pressed them back to the mattress again. He had you spread completely, open and melting into a pathetic resolve of messy sounds. He dragged his nose through your folds once more, before his lips enclosed around your bud and drew it between them in a sharp suck that had you seeing stars. Ovid’s Metamorphosis, Orpheus, they were put back between the pages of a closed book. Shimmering away into mere dust of thought. A coiling pressure replaced them. One of pleasure, and a slight pain of overstimulation. Hot like a wire in a ready-to-blow fuse. “Fuck– Frankie…” You yelped, and he replied with nothing more than a guttural groan into your centre. A lewd slurp of the slit of your cunt as if it was his last meal. Like it was divine to him. Tasted sweeter than a slice of heaven. Here he could blur into you and forget he was separate. Ignore that you ended somewhere and he started some place after. No gap between could exist with his face pressed into your pussy. Gushing all over his lips and tongue and cheeks just for him. Drenching his face in the thick shine of your slick.

And then there was the slow release of the ache; The coiling heat blooming in your lower belly. Growing with each circle of his tongue over your swollen clit. Your legs twitched from a moment, breathing heavily and staggered as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. Your vision fizzled behind your eyelids for a moment, making opening your eyes to look down at him retreating would probably have you passing out.

“Bien hecho, chica.” he mumbled as he smeared his lips over your goose pimpled skin, hair stood on end from the tone of his crooning voice, the rough scrape of his moustache over flesh. “Good girl.”

He climbed back up the bed to lie next to you, and the two of you lay still for a while. Your mind felt dormant under the heavy guise of something dragging, your eyelids like paperweights, stinging with the need to just sleep.

“Been meaning to ask you something…” Frankie spoke up, smoothing a hand over your stomach atop the bedsheets you had slipped back under.

“Mhm?’ You asked in a voice that was hazed by the want to sleep, eyes still closed, but awake.

“I’ve got this…thing.” He started, and he watched art you opened one eye to peer at him sceptically, lips pursed ever so slightly. “And all my mates have dates because they're either married, or engaged, or have been planning to get round to proposing…” You scoffed before he had the chance to pick up the trail off of his own sentence. He couldn’t quite meet the scrutinising eyes of yours. The ones that narrowed a fraction as they watched him smooth over the top of your sheets, over a thread that had snagged there when being washed in the machine.

“What thing are you bateing me into going to, Morales?”

“Just a military thing.” He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but the way his thick fingers found and pulled at the same stray thread of your duvet cover said otherwise. “A formal.” There was a hint of fear settling like silt at the bottom of a river in his eyes. A flicker. If that. Maybe you could call it a glimmer from afar. Whatever you might call it, it was better left unsaid. You sighed to save him the embarrassment, rolling onto your side and propping your head up with your arm.

“And there isn’t a single soul on this planet that you know of who can accompany you other than me, hm?”

“Please?” He practically begged, rolling on top of you to speak to the skin of your hot neck, skin still slightly salty from the sweat that had previously lain there. “Just as a friend. Nothing more, I promise you.” It would would be nice to have someone there he wished to add, but but his tongue to hold it back. He hated the idea of seeming soppy. Either way, the sting of biting one’s tongue is a lesser of two evils compared to the sting of rejection.

“I suppose I better find a dress then.”

88 notes · View notes

ttteanimalau · 6 months

Text

Hello yall!

Firstly, I wanna apologize for this blog being...in a coma for a bit there. I promise, I'm not done with this blog or au, I've actually not stopped thinking about it. I've just been lacking motivation to make art for it, any artist would know lol

Because it's been so long, I've decided to finally settle on making references for the mains, meaning engines 1-7 plus Emily.

So far, this is Thomas, Edward, Henry, and Gordon, I'll make everyone in time but I had these done and wanted to post now. Also, have some fun basic descriptions of their characters in my au.

Thomas is, to most workers, a lil prick. In all seriousness, his basic personality is a lovable yet cheeky young dork, with a big heart. There are few figures of authority he has respect to but he, overall, doesn't find joy in causing distress or harm to others. He causes trouble in a more-or-less fun kind of way, even though it can get under the skin of certain co-workers He does have a bit of a hero complex though, after all he's been through.

Edward is an older mentor-type figure, basically everyone's dad. He's thoughtful and very reliable, always willing to do what's necessary to get the job done. When a scenario would call for it, he does have some bite when it comes to verbally disciplining his younger peers, especially Thomas and James. He takes no nonsense and can be pretty scary when he's ticked off, despite his usual softboi appearance. Also yes, he's very gay, I felt that was important to mention lol

Henry is also a softboi, though he's definitely less of a mentor figure. He's careful and gentle, especially with smaller beings. He can get prideful, especially when he primarily pulls the heaviest trains. He has incredible strength and he knows it, though part of his pride comes from hidden insecurity, considering his past and how fragile he used to be before the Flying Kipper. But that's a long story that'll be explained in the future.

Gordon is the pride of Sodor's railway, and he basks in the spotlight. He's boastful and proud, and that's not entirely unfounded. As the worker who primarily pulls the Express passenger train, he's aware of how important he is. Though, he does have a fondness for his younger co-workers, even the ones who annoy him (*cough cough* Thomas). However, he isn't above pulling the one-off cruel joke.

I hope you enjoy this! One again, I apologize for my absence lol

#thomas the tank engine au #thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #ttte #ttte au #ttte thomas #ttte edward #ttte henry #ttte gordon #ttte animal au

87 notes · View notes

brebreluvslove · 1 year

Text

Love us too (neteyam/lo’ak x reader) 🧸 Part 1

notes; this is very rushed but tell me if you guys like this cause it’s gonna me a multiple part story. The characters will be aged up my a year or two for the story 💁🏾‍♀️

warnings; jealousy, some blood

characters; neteyam, lo’ak

𖤍 Love us too 𖤍

Jake Sully had stumbled across (Y/N) when she was only 7 years old. She wasn’t like the other Na’vi children, her skin was a shade of deep blue mixed with violet. The stripes along her body slightly darker than normal. When he brought her to Ney’tiri she immediately sensed this girl was different and convinced Jake to let her stay with them. Practically raised her as their own. (Y/N) was the same age as Lo’ak and Kiri and younger than Neteyam by a year. When Jake had first introduced (Y/N) to his children they were scared of her at first but as the years went by they began to trust her. The Sully brothers took an interest in her not like their sisters. ~ years later ~

The Omatikaya clan was on route to raid and destroy some of the sky people's supplies that were endangering their home somewhere deep in Pandora's forest. When Ney'tiri flew up next to Jake, yelling to the other Na'vis who were following them, Jake was leading the group of them on Banshees up in the air while brandishing a gun. The four of them flew across some of the smaller mountains before arriving at a man-made railway that had a train traveling on it that was painted yellow. Although there were two Aerospatiale SA-2 Samson aircraft flying on either side of the train to provide protection, the Na'vi still attacked.

"Ground team go!" Jake gave orders by pressing on the communication link around his neck as he talked while keeping his eyes on the foe. The train abruptly detonated some train tracks in front of it, causing it to swerve and scrape against the metal, igniting dazzling sparks as the ground group moved forward on their direhorses. The train ended up going off the now-broken tracks, causing it to break apart and flip over, triggering many additional explosions as all the sections were now divided by the explosion, which threw everything out of balance as the aircrafts had flown off course. Jake recognized an opportunity to strike and ordered his Banshee to descend directly onto the tools of the people in the skies. He let out a battle cry before firing his gun at one of the aircraft, causing it to catch fire and crash to the ground. Ney'tiri called out with a yip, pointed her Banshee at the remaining aircraft, prepared her bow and arrow, and then pulled it back to shoot. She yelled, releasing the arrow, which struck the sky guy inside the aircraft and killed him. She flipped the transport over with her Banshee and aimed again before releasing it to hit the pilot of the aircraft. She yipped as the aircraft slammed into the ground. Ney'tiri raised her arms in response to the collective loud yelps of the Na'vi on the direhorses as they cheered the action. All of the Na'vi who were present at this point fell to the ground and began gathering the weapons from the containers that were there. As Jake puts his hand on his communication device to resume speaking, he is standing on some explosion debris "Move along! Two minutes, people!" Three Banshees were hovering and observing the raid close above the scene in the sky.

The first banshee was Neteyam’s, second one Lo’ak’s and the third (Y/N)’s. They watch the raid happen from above as instructed by Jake. “ Guys we should go down there!” Lo’ak stated earning a disapproving look from Neteyam. “No dad told us to spot…” Neteyam paused and looked at (Y/N) and back at Lo’ak.

“…plus we have (Y/N) with us. Dad would skin us!” Neteyam explained. Lo’ak just laughed and looked at (Y/N) cockily. “Come on bro don’t be a wuss!” Lo’ak yipped as he flew down to the action causing (Y/N) to follow. Neteyam let out a sigh of annoyance as he followed as well. The minute they got on the ground Lo’ak called out to them “come on let’s go!”. (Y/N) began to follow causing Neteyam to grab her arm firmly so she wouldn’t end up getting in trouble with his idiotic brother of his. Lo’ak was handed a gun and some ammunition to load it. “ You don’t even know how to use that thing…” Neteyam commented. Lo’ak just clicked in the amo and look at (Y/N) with a proud look. Neteyam saw the act and just rolled his eyes. “Dad taught me!” Lo’ak said with a smirk. (Y/N) just laughed at his antics and then they heard someone yell.

“PULL BACK PULL BACK!!” As they started to move a bomb was dropped cause the all three of them to go flying in different directions. Jake saw this happen and flew down instantly. “It’s okay, you’re okay…” He said to calm Lo’ak down. He then realized he didn’t see (Y/N) or Neteyam. “Where’s your brother and (Y/N)!?” Jake asked shakily as he stared at Lo’ak.

“Over there!!” Lo’ak screamed as he got up and started to run towards them. Neteyam was supporting (Y/N) on one side because her leg was injured. Guilt covered Lo’ak’s face as he helped his brother support her.

~ at the camp ~ Neteyam got off his banshee and carefully pulled you off of yours as well as he saw his father approaching him. Lo’ak was next to him as well, they share a looking knowing they’re gonna get their asses handed to them in a couple seconds. “I let you go to raid and you disobey direct orders!” Jake bellows at the two boys. He glances at you still leaning on your banshee.

“And you put the one person in danger I told you to protect…” Jake continued. “Sir I take full responsibility…” Neteyam started before he gets interrupted by his dad.

“Yeah you should your the older brother you need to start acting like it…” Jake states firmly.

“Make sure she gets fixed up…” Jake orders looking at (Y/N). “…yes sir.” Neteyam obeys taking you to Mo’at for some healing remedies. Lo’ak and Jake are still there. Lo’ak having hundreds of thoughts rushing through his head.

“You could have gotten (Y/N) killed you know that?” Jake questions knowing his son already knows the answer. A guilty look takes over Lo’ak’s face as he realizes the danger he put his best friend in. “Your grounded and no flying for a month…” Jake stated as he began to walk away.

Lo’ak felt terrible for putting the girl he cared so much about in danger. It was still running in his kind the risk he put her in. At that moment he started to realize that he didn’t just care for her he loved her with all his heart. She always was in his mind but he never truly looked at his feelings before. But the one thing Lo’ak didn’t know was the exact same thoughts were running through Neteyam’s head as well…

notes; this took me way too long but the next part should be coming in the next to days and it will be longer don’t worry 😌

#avatar the way of water #avatar #neteyam #neteyam x reader #lo'ak x reader #loak x reader #lo’ak sully

312 notes · View notes

kingmagnificoofrosas · 4 months

Note

What do you think of Magnifico using age regression as a coping tactic? I saw a lot of myself in him tbh especially with how he plays with his toy Lego people, and plays with his reflection in the mirror. I have trauma too and playing by myself with toys helps me. He’s a good boy. ❤️

Oh, he definitely is a good boy! 🩵

Personally, as explained in my analysis, I think that he's just playful characterwise. My Dad for example has a whole miniature model railway in the basement. Tiny trains and everything. He loves playing around with it and adding stuff.

Magnifico having a model of his kingdom and interacting with it is next level cute. The fact that despite his ptsd he's kept this boyish playfulness is amazing! Like, you could have so much fun with him! Just imagine, he'd be down to anything fun. Sleigh ride? Let's do it! Bungee jumping? Let's go! Dance battle? Bring it on!

Also 🫂 feel hugged! I think I've mentioned that I've also suffered trauma and have several family members with ptsd. I understand! You are safe here and I will defend you and everyone else with ptsd alongside Magnifico!

#disney wish #wish 2023 #king magnifico #magnifico is a good boi

22 notes · View notes

u-ntitled-s-eries · 7 months

Text

A continuation of this scenario from @bellafragolina's Borrower/Tiny SubMas AU.

True to your word, you agreed to let Emmet tag along to work and topped off the day with a quick detour to browse the local hobby store.

-----

“Okay, I think it’s safe.”

Emmet pokes his head out from inside your jacket pocket, his eyes darting around to look at all the trains littered about the shop. He keeps one hand firmly gripped onto the fabric of your jacket, ready to duck and hide if another human so much as turns in your direction, but thankfully all he can see is one other customer at the other side of the store.

Models of all shapes and sizes are on display, tucked away in glass cases with bright lights shining down on them, and he can hear the whirring of a little motor running along a circle of tracks somewhere in the background. Maybe if he plays his cards right, you’ll agree to buy a new model. But which ones would pair best with the railway back home? Something that matches the landscape you designed. Or maybe it would be fun to try something entirely different.

You come to a stop, nearly sending poor Emmet tumbling out of your jacket with the unexpected jolt and making him look up in confusion. In front of him is a shelf lined end to end with boxes, each one depicting a picture of a plane.

“Have you ever heard of a fighter jet?” You ask, keeping your head low and voice soft. There’s a grin on your face, like your about to reveal a deep dark secret. He shakes his head, but he can guess what it is from just the name alone. When you laugh, he can feel you bump against him.

“My dad and I made one of these once, when I was a little kid.” You pluck the box from the shelf and bring it closer for Emmet to see. It’s hard to imagine you as a child; what you looked like, what you acted like, what you sounded like. Do you have any pictures he could see? “I remember it was massive, and we painted all the parts by hand. Just finishing the wings took forever.”

There’s a lot of words and terminology he doesn’t know the meaning of, but he listens to you mumbling the words like it’s a second language. You chuckle and mutter to yourself, “Wonder what he did with that thing... Probably collecting dust in a box somewhere, if he didn’t break it and throw it out.”

You reach to put the box back on the shelf, and Emmet tugs at your shirt.

“What is it?” You look around the store and pull your jacket, and Emmet, close to your chest.

“Can we get it?”

He doesn’t know how much the model you bought them cost - you joked that he and Ingo couldn’t pay you back even if you wanted them to - but he can hear you sigh at seeing the price tag. “Are you sure? Wanna make this our next project for the next… forever?”

He grins and nods his head. “Yep.”

“Alrighty then. Let’s get the paints while we’re here and then we’ll check out.” You shrug and tuck the box under your arm. “Never took you for a plane guy.”

The trains and cars stare back at Emmet mockingly as you continue through the store.

“I’m not.”

Next time, he thinks to himself, next time.

#Pokemon #SubMas #Subway Boss Emmet #Subway Boss Emmet x Reader

35 notes · View notes

mean-scarlet-deceiver · 3 months

Note

I personally believe that Awdry's original intention was to make "the fat director" a character who was somewhat out of touch with the railway world, and that the Hatt depicted in 3 railway engines who's "doctor has forbidden him to pull/push" and abandons Henry is very different from the Hatt who drives percy to his new home and puts on coveralls to test drive Henry and see his problems for himself. It would almost seem like character development if it weren't for the fact that we know that the latter Hatt is Swindon trained. And, of course, even in book 2 he seems to be much more involved in actual on the ground operations.

Oh yeah, yeah! 'Out-of-touch dumbass' is 100% what "the fat director" was for Awdry originally. The shenanigans in "The Sad Story of Henry" are fully in line with the kinda stories Awdry liked to write — you see it all again in The Little People — he really does just like to make up some guys, put them in situations, and have them ineffectually try to idiot their way out of things (and make an even more bizarre situation in the process).

Actually so based of him to be like, "This is a book about trains. Trains are great. They're big and stupid and emotional, but great. The guys who run the trains are cool too. Btw kids, you know who on a railway sucks? The directors." Wilbert A., in that moment you were kind of an icon.

The anti-fat and ableist tropes ('he's making it up, he doesn't need accommodations, he's just too lazy to try and pull a train') are not so chill but I do love this anti-top-hat energy he was bringing to the table in the early game.

The publishers were honestly right to make Awdry bring all three engines onto the same railway and to make a happy ending for the stories... but, Fat-Director-wise, the result is hilarious. I don't think "some people be hardasses sometimes," even "some of these hardasses are useless themselves but still have the power to destroy your life and they will use it without thinking twice," is nearly as off-color a message in a kid's story book as "and sometimes that terrifying hardass is just this nice, kindly, fair paternal figure :) who was justly pissed off at you for your ignorance :) but who will be nice to you later :) and you should be grateful to them really :)" Such is almost always the way with clumsy attempts to sanitize — the result is worse.

Book 2: "The terrifyingly clueless hardass is your enginesona's dad now, kiddos! :)"

To be fair, I don't think it's certain that Hatt's Swindon training guarantees he'd be any nicer — we don't know that — though it is undoubtedly weird that "the Great Western way," with all its implied efficiency, would result in an apprentice who grows up to brick up a gauntletted line and bore a new tunnel rather than just get a few engines to drag Henry somewhere out of everyone's way before abandoning him. The stupidity of it is harder to explain by "he undergoes some character development :)" But the dropped over-the-top harshness could be explained that way.

Anyway it would be so cool if someone rewrote the RWS but with the Fat Director/Controller maintaining his original characterisation. I just want to see what that would look like.

#the railway series #chatter #the fat controller #just fc1 things #... also kinda want to know what the RWS would have been like if it remained 'crazy-ass stories i develop for my kids based on our models'#like sure crazyman you can keep that big green scaredycat in his tunnel of misery #what else ya got #where were you planning on going before your publishers imposed sanity and coherence on your imagination #(coz i'm sure that as they played trains he would have come up with more stories even if he wasn't writing them for anyone but christopher)#(how screwed up would they have all been)#let him cook

18 notes · View notes

vashtijoy · 11 months

Text

Today I want to rant at length about highlight a plot-relevant but otherwise rather dry line from Shido's Palace, simply because it's been living rent-free in my head for days and I'll die if I don't.

And up front I want to say: this is not intended as translator bashing, shit like this is rarely on the translator, though I will possibly get a little aerated at times. More about that at the end.

This is really long, and probably very boring. So to summarise quickly:

Ooe's "diplomat" and "president of some company" are the Minister for Transport and the railway company president from the 4/10 cinematic with Sae and the SIU director;

Shido wasn't "specially appointed", he's the Minister of State for Special Missions, likely with oversight for either the PTs or the psychotic breakdowns;

being a pro translator sucks;

something about a well.

my least favourite line so far

Shadow Politician 春先に地下鉄事故があっただろう?狙ったのは、あの運転士だからな。 harusaki ni chikatetsu jiko ga atta darou? neratta no wa, ano untenshu da kara na Do you recall the subway accident early last spring? The one I had targeted was that engineer.

nb—this "engineer" is the train driver. I didn't get this at all, but apparently train drivers are called engineers in the US? This is a good example of how something you think is a mistranslation may not be.

There is an occasion where the guy is referred to as a "driver", but this is actually 車掌 shashou—in Japanese, a conductor in the British sense, the member of staff who is not the driver, but walks up and down checking tickets. This is meant to hint to us, I suspect, that the NPC saying this may not be a reliable source—he's making some spooky claims, after all. Yet again, in America, the conductor can be the driver of the train...? IDK, confusion abounds.

But on to the important bit:

Shadow Politician 目障りな国交大臣と、現政権派の社長のクビを取るためだった。mezawarina kokkou daijin to, genseiken-ha no shachou no kubi o toru tame datta It was to take out the president of some company and a diplomat who sided with current government.

Full disclosure: I have never liked this line. It screamed of being mistranslated. "The president of some company"? Ooe had this guy destroyed, and he can't be specific? And "a diplomat"? This has come from nowhere—I can't think of another diplomat in P5. It just all seems so random. And it is random. Because this was meant to close up a background plot element from the start of the game, and it just... doesn't any more.

So, for this one, I'm just going to break out the big red DENIED stamp again:

The hell of it all is that I can see what they did here, so I'm going to go through it at excessive length, as like... an object lesson in what not to do. Not just for you, but for me.

And I need to be clear up front that I'm not an authoritative source on the Japanese language. I'm not fluent, my Japanese is barely passable (which is why asks, comments and discussion on my language posts are all always super welcome, btw, just like for everything else I post). I'm just a weeb on the Internet, who constantly posts assertions and theories that future me will hate. Bring your salt shaker.

Quick glimpse behind the curtain: this is from my Google doc for Shido's Palace. You have the textbox code, the speaker, then the text in Japanese, romaji and the localisation. Usually these days I don't add the romaji (it's not good for your reading), but lines that go into posts get it temporarily.

Words I don't know, or had to verify (like shachou, where I wanted to know if it was always a company president or if it could be a role within a political faction), or lore/grammar notes, all get comments, which are highlighted in yellow.

the peril of dictionaries

I'm bilingual English/Welsh-speaking; until I was fifteen, I was educated through the medium of Welsh. So I got taught very early on about the correct use of dictionaries. The exact example I remember is that a past pupil (probably apocryphal) wanted to put "Well, Dad was angry!" into Welsh. And they had looked up "well"....

ffynnon, roedd Dad yn grac! Well, Dad was angry!

This is a ffynnon:

It's a funny story. The point is that you should always flip to the other half of the dictionary to verify the meaning you found. Or these days, with the Internet and all, we get to check multiple dictionaries, corpuses and sources! And a riotously good time it is.

part one: who was that mysterious diplomat

The main phrase I want to focus on is 国交大臣 kokkou daijin. This is what has been rendered "a diplomat" in the localisation. On first glance, that's a string of kanji I don't know: country, the right-hand side of the second half of 学校 gakkou (school), something about a big man... is that read daijin?...

Maybe it's a yojijukugo—a fixed four-kanji phrase with an often-idiomatic meaning? Let's put the whole thing into Jisho and see what we get.

(Incidentally, I bash Jisho constantly, but it's still my first stop because it's fast and often good enough. You just shouldn't rely on it for anything critical; trust, but verify.)

Well, there's no yojijukugo. But one glance at that tells us that Ooe's "diplomat" is not a diplomat at all. Ooe's "diplomat" is the Minister for Transport who was brought down as a result of this subway crash in April. You might have thought Shido had this guy taken out, but no. He did it for Ooe. He crashed a subway train, injuring 80 people, as nothing but a favour to Ooe.

But why is it using kokkou, "diplomatic relations"? Well, Jisho gives us a convenient "see also" link. Let's take a look:

You see what they did there? The full phrase is 国土交通相 kokudo koutsuu-shou, "Minister for (National) Land and Transport". But nobody wants to say that. So you strike out some of the kanji. The word becomes kokkoushou—but everyone still knows who you mean.

Let's do a bit of that verification I mentioned. Here's Wikipedia:

HmmMM. Notice how the Minister and the Ministry are read the same; only the last kanji changes. But we're still on track.

Let's click over to Japanese Wikipedia. What do they have to say?

And there it is again, highlighted: our old friend 国交 kokkou, "diplomatic relations". "In Japanese, this is commonly abbreviated as kokkoushou".

daijin

How about 大臣 daijin? It looks like it just means "big man" or "important man", but what does it actually mean? Again, let's start with Jisho:

... B|

Jisho offers us a bunch of "further reference" links, so I'm going to go straight to Japanese Wikipedia for this one—which sends you to an old revision of the page, by the way; be sure to go to the latest one:

大臣（だいじん）は、本来は皇帝や国王などを輔弼して国政を司る重要官職だが、今日では一般的に君主制か共和制かにかかわらず、政府を構成し、各行政部門の長に位置する官職を指す。閣僚ともいう。 Historically, 大臣 daijin referred to the high position of those responsible for matters of state, who advised emperors and kings on those matters. However, today it generally refers, regardless of whether the government in question is a monarchy or republic, to an official who leads a division of government.

... ... B|

In other words, a cabinet minister. Seems to sum it up pretty well, but let's just look at the invaluable ALC corpus on this:

So we have it. A daijin is unquestionably a cabinet minister. And Ooe is unquestionably talking about the Minister for Transport.

last-minute edit: I actually wrote this entire post, preened for completing it, then closed it in my drafts and forgot all about it. Until I opened my grammar text to a random page and found this:

EVEN MY GRAMMAR BOOK KNOWS.

Actual grammar books are a bit obsolete in 2023, but that is a great one if you're in the market. Just don't get the Kindle edition, it's illegible on Kindle which is probably not what you want.

Incidentally, yes, a Diet member is sensei—you can often hear people refer to Shido that way.

but we can also backreference this one

Another cool thing we can do is get context-relevant examples. That is, we can search the P5 script itself to see how it uses daijin and kokkou daijin.

Two lines use kokkou daijin. One is this line of Ooe's. The other is a news story, which gets it right:

Newscaster 国交大臣の辞任に伴い、与党への批判が高まっており⋯ kokkou daijin no jinin ni tomanai, yotou e no hihan ga takamatte ori... Criticism of the ruling party has surged, following the resignation of the Minister of Transport.

But people talk about the Minister quite a bit. What phrases do they use? Well, sometimes he's simply the daijin—"the Minister"; this usually becomes "Minister of Transport" for context. Sometimes he's the kokkoushou, as we discussed above. And often, on the news, he gets his full title—he's the kokudo koutsuu daijin.

Usually, daijin by itself in P5 is part of 総理大臣 souri daijin—the prime minister.

meanwhile in shidoland

In passing, the MoT is not the only one who gets translated out of the script. You might remember from the calling card cinematic that Shido is the "Minister of State for Special Missions".

Makoto tries to tell us this at one point:

Makoto 特命担当大臣現職の閣僚よ tokumei tantou daijin genshoku no kanryou yo He was specially appointed to the position. That's his current title. He's the current Minister of State for Special Missions.

(What is that, exactly? I'm not gonna do a huge research effort on this one right now, this post is already longer than the Nile and dry as sand, but they appear to be appointed to deal with things that are a big deal—the link gives you examples of some of the issues they've been appointed for. It's not inconceivable that Shido was appointed to the Cabinet to deal with the national crisis of psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns that he started. Either that, or the PTs themselves—he does talk about them an awful lot.)

and that's not all

There is, of course, a real Japanese Minister for Transport. We can put kokkou daijin into Google (with a little は on the end to filter Chinese-language sites), and what do we get back? The first hit is the Wikipedia page for the Minister for Transport.

My guess would be that the translator knew the word kokkou, but they didn't have an encyclopaedic knowledge of Japanese politics. So they read kokkou daijin as some kind of important diplomat.

part two: in which we invent time travel

And that was only the first of the two things that made me hate my life about that textbox. Let's bring the line back:

The second thing that got under my skin was this:

現政権派の社長 genseiken-ha no shachou

This means, in the terms of the localisation, "a company president who sided with current government". But... what is even going on here?

In Japanese, modifiers go before the things they modify, right? Like ... always. I'm going to cite the slightly-tongue-in-cheek but also inestimable Jay Rubin (probably best known as Haruki Murakami's English translator) on this:

... by about the middle of the seventh century, the Emperor, who still wielded actual power then, made a rule, maybe the one rule that really works in the language and never gets broken: “From this day forward, subjects will always come before their verbs. And, just to keep things neat, modifiers will always come before what they modify.” Never in all these centuries have there been any exceptions—at least not in normal syntax....

Shōmetsu shita zō is “The elephant that vanished”—a fragment, just a noun with a modifier in front of it. By putting it before the zō, we’ve changed the shōmetsu shita into a modifier. I’m going to go way out on a limb here and call anything that modifies a noun an adjective. Shōmetsu shita zō (literally, “vanished elephant”) works exactly the same way as utsukushii zō (“beautiful elephant”).

(That's from the book "Making Sense of Japanese", by the way, which y'all should totally read if you can find a copy. It's one of Kodansha's little books, which are all worth at least a glance; they published tons of them, with titles like "All About Particles" and "How To Sound Intelligent In Japanese" and etc etc etc.)

back to our sentence

So how is this translation breaking that rule? Let's look at it again, with the problematic parts bolded:

目障りな国交大臣と、現政権派の社長のクビを取るためだった。mezawarina kokkou daijin to, genseiken-ha no shachou no kubi o toru tame datta It was to take out the president of some company and a diplomat who sided with current government.

現政権派 genseiken-ha is the current government; the current administration. No problems there. It's just in the wrong place.

kokkou daijin, we established, is the localisation's "diplomat". genseiken-ha no translates as "aligned with the current government". But genseiken-ha is after kokkou daijin. It cannot be modifying it. It can't have been taken for a relative clause—what Jay Rubin framed as an adjective in the quote up there—because we still have the two people the sentence describes, the "diplomat" and the businessman; the sentence has not been read as talking about a diplomat who is also a government-boosting company president.

We should have, literally, "an eyesore of a minister for transport" and "a company president who sides with current government". But we just... don't.

Is it possible it doesn't make sense that a company president would be aligned with the government? Has the sentence been rearranged for that reason? But this is essentially what Okumura does: he's a company boss aligned with a powerful politician. So are the TV and IT Execs whose shadows we meet, for that matter. They are not in politics themselves, but they network with politicians. Big business and politics are always hand-in-hand.

All of this gives us the following working version of the translation:

It was to take down that intolerable Minister of Transport and a company president who supported the government.

And on that note....

who is that mysterious company president

"the president of some company", the localisation says. This seems a bit vagued up. Are there any company presidents we should be aware of here?

The answer is yes:

On 4/10, in the cinematic after the crash, the SIU Director talks at length about how this is the fault of "the company and the government". Of course he does—he knows very well what's happened, and he knows where the blame is to be assigned:

SIU Director: It's less of an operating accident and more of a crime of the company and the government. SIU Director: Site inspectors apparently reported all of this six months ago—the deterioration of the tracks and the ATC.

And the last two lines in full, since they diverge:

SIU Director それを会社が隠ぺい…国交省も故意に見逃したフツがある。 sore o kaisha ga inpei... kokkoushou mo koi ni minogashita futsu ga aru Seems the railway company and the Ministry of Transport both turned a blind eye to the truth. So the railway company covered it up... and the Ministry of Transport did what they do best: they turned a blind eye to it..

This is just a slight difference in emphasis: the railway company allegedly performed a deliberate coverup, and it was the Ministry that did their normal thing, and chose to overlook that coverup....

But note that "railway company" here is just 会社 kaisha, "company". Originally, it was obvious from context; the localisation clarifies it. But when Ooe later mentions a 社交 shachou, a "company president", in the same obvious-from-context way, it has not been picked up on—our very personal railway company president has become "the president of some company". Who was important enough for Ooe to personally destroy, but not important enough for him to remember where he worked.

SIU Director 隠し通せんよ。大臣の進退まで行くだろう。 kakushitoosen yo. daijin no shintai made iku darou There's no way they can hide. This will go all the way to the top. They can't keep this hushed up forever. By the end of this, the transport minister's job will be on the line.

... but here's the first real appearance of the Minister for Transport, with the SIU Director—who, again let's not forget, knows this crash was engineered in part to get that minister—not just saying this incident will "go all the way to the top", but that it will specifically end with them coming for the minister's job.

where did we come from, where did we go

Where does that leave us with the sentence?

It was to take out the president of some company and a diplomat who sided with current government. It was to take down that intolerable Minister of Transport, and the president of the railway company. He supported the government, after all.

We've broken that little genseiken-ha out into its own little explaining sentence, since it's hard to phrase as one sentence in natural English. And now you know.

btw, leave the translators alone

Look, this is far from the best translation I've ever seen. We should be mad about this, right? Well... no.

As a hobbyist, I have the luxury of focusing on a single fandom, spending hours, days, or weeks thinking about single scenes, researching context, language and concepts, confirming I've understood things to the best of my ability. Your average animanga/JRPG translator is not being paid well enough, or given nearly enough time, to do this. They cannot be expected to do this.

This is not, not, NOT on the translator. Read that ten times. We are supposed to go from our second language to our native tongue; that's how translation works best. So there will always be areas of confusion like this, things that need clarification and research. Japanese media translation requires a vast knowledge of differently arcane terms depending on the work; nobody will know them all.

Who is this on? It's on Atlus, for skimping on and rushing not only the translation but the editing; they did the English localisation of a massive property on the cheap. Something like this should have been caught by the editor, but honestly P5's editing (including the way things are finalised in English, and the overall polishing of the script) tends to come in for more criticism than the translation per se.

tl;dr: blame the company, not the poor translator who was most likely just one of us trying to make a shitty living with something they love, and a skill they worked their ass off for.

#persona 5 #p5 meta #japanese language #translation #long post #very long #very boring #you have been warned

56 notes · View notes

hazel-of-sodor · 6 months

Text

Day 22-Succession

Traintober 2023

Other Stories

Day 22-Top Hatt

Succession

Autumn 2016

Edward simmered lazily outside Tidmouth Station, the crisp autumn air swirling around his boiler and down to his wheels pleasantly. He stretched slightly, sighing. His valve gear had to started to have minor aches lately, signaling that he wasn't far from an overhaul.

Finally, the back door to the Controller's Office opened and she stepped out.

Jane Hatt II, the newest Fat Controller, cut a striking figure in the traditional 3 piece suit and top hat. She had exchanged the black tie for one in North Western Blue with red lining. Rather than black, her pants and overjacket were a very deep blue, her undershirt a light purple in honor of her grandfather.

"You look splendid Ms.Hatt!" Edward said with feeling.

Jane shrugged, "It feels like I'm playing dress up." She said.

Edward chuckled, "Your father said much the same thing, and your grandfather too. I think that's why Charles chose purple instead of yellow, the difference made it feel more real to him."

"Rather than just playing at being his father." Jane guessed.

"Exactly."

"What was he like? The first I mean."

Edward blinked, "Topham?"

"Yes, Dad and Grandpa have told me about him but..." She hesitated.

"You wanna know from one of his engines, not his children."

"Yes."

Edward considered the question carefully, I'm honestly not sure there is all that much of a difference in later years honestly."

He looked at Jane seriously, "He was a serious but passionate man. He cared for us deeply, even early on, but...it was a very different time. Men were expected to be stronger, harsher...He had to learn how to be a controller, and he sometimes got it wrong in the early years."

"The tunnel incident."

Edward snorted, "Remind me to tell you what actually happened with all that when we have time. Topham was fair most of the time but had quite the temper when wronged. He learned to control it in later years, but by then he had his reputation."

Edward paused, "I think the clearest image I can give you of his later years was the last time I saw him. He was taking your namesake for a picnic, and had come to talk to me while waiting for their trains." Edward closed his eyes, remembering, "He'd been having health problems for months but refused to let them slow him down...they finally caught up with him."

Edward took a deep breath, "He asked me to look after Charles, to help him as controller. He wasn't worried about himself, he was worried about his son having someone to turn to as Controller."

He looked at Jane seriously, "I have kept that promise to him ever since, from Charles to Stephen, and now to you."

He smiled suddenly, "He would have loved you, you know. You would have reminded him of Jane, who he always said was his better half. He often looked back at his early years as a controller far too harshly. He got us through the 20s and 30s, with all of us intact. No other controller could say that."

"So he would be okay with me being controller instead of Richard?"

Edward snorted, "He would be relieved. He'd have loved Richard too, but he reminds me of a young Thomas in all the wrong ways." he chuckled.

"He would have been very proud of you, and proud of your brother for realizing you were the better fit."

Jane snorted, "If only the news agreed.,

"Just ignore them." Edward advised, "It's what he did."

She patted his buffer beam, "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Edward."

"Any time Ms. Hatt."

The fourth Fat Controller turned and walked towards the platform and her first day running the North Western Railway, collecting her Top Hatt from her office as she did so.

Edward happily closed his eyes and began to doze before his next train, confident they were in good hands.

#Traintober #Traintober23 #Traintober2023 #ttte fanfic #rws fanfic #fanfic #Prompt-Top Hat #ttte edward #the fat controller #ttte sir topham hatt #ttte Lady Topham Hatt #TTTE OC Jane Hatt II

27 notes · View notes

moorishflower · 1 year

Text

vibrating at the frequency of the sun

here y'all can have a snippet of uh what I'm doing for Requited Unrequited Love which is what I have labeled "Hallmark Dads" in my gdocs where Morpheus and Hob are the guys who get dumped in every Hallmark Christmas movie

"'Scuse me," someone says, "pardon me, sorry..."

There's a whumf of displaced air as the owner of the voice collapses heavily into the seat opposite Morpheus, apparently heedless of the aura of misery that has enshrouded him. He is considering asking them to find another seat -- he will be found extremely rude but, at the moment, he does not care -- when he raises his eyes and actually beholds his new travelling companion.

It is the man.

The wine bottle makes another appearance, thunked down upon the table between them as the train shudders, and a voice over the tannoy mumbles about their upcoming destination. Next stop, London Paddington Railway Station.

"Sorry," the man says again, and Morpheus' eyes are drawn once again to his hands, laid flat upon the table, now. They are broad, well-lived hands, faint scars upon the knuckles and nicking along the prominent rise of tendons, yet the nails are neatly-kept, and the calluses, what few that he can see, are small and soft. These are hands once used to labour, but no longer. "Is it all right if I sit here?"

No, he should say. Let him be, with the ring in his pocket with no finger to place it on, with the ache in his heart that has been impossible to fill since a fiercely-bright Spring morning, years ago, lifetimes ago, in a waiting room with clear and sun-bright windows, blood from a nosebleed that would not cease dappling his palms like flower petals.

"I will be poor company," is what he says, and the man's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. It's a face designed for smiling, Morpheus thinks, in the way a greenhouse is designed for life, and for growing. It can be turned to some other use, for a time, but will always make its way back to its original purpose. To imagine this face without a subtle glow of joy as its backlight it feels anathema to its very architecture.

"Join the club," the man says, and nudges the bottle of wine forward. The train has begun to move, the vibration of the tracks rattling the glass at a nearly-unheard frequency. The man's cheeks are blushed red -- from the cold, perhaps, or from wine he has already partaken of. His eyes, still, are like the diffuse beauty of light through water, like the sun refracted through amber.

"Hob," the man says, and lays his hand upon the table. It's not so much an offer of a handshake as it appears to be an offer to hold his hand. "What's your name? I didn't catch it, when you helped me earlier."

Morpheus considers his options. He could get up and move. There are other seats, though they are few and far between, now. He may need to move to a different car. He could ask the man, Hob, to leave, but that seems worse than rude at this point -- it seems unconscionable. He could...

He could take the offered hand.

What does it matter? He's going home, and he's going to call Lucienne, and then maybe he will fill the tub with hot water, so hot it scalds, and maybe he will take his entire bottle of Xanax, one at a time so he can savour them, so he can feel the way his muscles ease and the way his brain quiets before he sleeps. And maybe he won't. Maybe Lucienne will ease him from the sharp and painful morass of his mind, and he will take a shower, and he will sleep in a different way. He hasn't decided yet. Trains, he thinks, are also liminal spaces. Until he sets foot in London, he is both dead and not dead, both married and once-divorced. A father. Bereaved. What does it matter what he does here, with this summer-warm man who radiates heat and the tart aroma of wine?

Morpheus puts his hand on the table, over Hob's. Their fingers briefly tangle together, almost a handshake, almost holding. His own hand is very pale, compared to Hob's -- he does not retain the sun well, and never has. His delicate English constitution, as Teleute has said.

"Morpheus," he says, and Hob tilts his head, and smiles. His smile, like the titular Jolene, is a breath of spring.

"Like the god of sleep? Your parents were fans of the classics, I take it."

"I...suppose. My family has. Interesting naming conventions." "I like it. It suits you." Their hands part. Morpheus flexes his fingers, and once again feels bereft. "So, what's the thing that makes you poor company, stranger?" Morpheus opens his mouth -- it is none of your business, my heart is broken, I am contemplating going home and committing suicide because I am clearly and patently not designed to be loved in any meaningful way -- but is interrupted by Hob's cheerful continuation, "Because I've just been dumped by my girlfriend of two years."

#the sandman #dreamling #dream/hob #the sandman bingo #hallmark AU #the sandman fanfiction #my fic

95 notes · View notes

blurban-form · 2 months

Text

How does the train work in “Trains”

A diversion from covering the house layout… sort of related to that though…

In "Trains", we're simulating a light-rail or heavy-rail transit system. Dad is the conductor (and motive power) for the two-seat high-frequency lawnchair train that circulates between stations located throughout the house.

Bingo uses this train to travel to work as the head vet at a vet's office: she drops her child off at daycare on the commute in, and picks them up on the trip home.

Bingo's home station (call this Stop 1-1) is at the foot of the stairs in the "two door" room on the lower level of the house. The train comes in through the door from Mum's art room. Bingo boards the train.

The next stop, Stop 1-2 - Daycare (Kiwi Playroom) -- Mum is in charge of the daycare. Bingo has to sign her child in and then gets on the next train to continue commuting to work...

Mum is also Bingo's co-worker at the exotic animal vet located at Stop 1-3 - Vet (Kitchen). Note Mum can beat the train between the two stops; she is also pretending to work as an assistant to Bingo, who is the head vet.

Later on, we see there are other stops. We also observe that trains can skip stops by running express at times, or by annoucing they're not stopping. It's unclear whether the following stops are on the same loop as the first three stops. The same Dad-powered train appears to serve all the stops, but they could be on different lines with some stations on both lines allowing for transfers.

Stop in Laundry Room. Bluey and her cat have this stop as their home base. Call this stop 2-1

There is another stop, apparently between the laundry room stop (2-1) and the vet stop (1-3) (where Bluey needs to take her sick cat), this stop in the upstairs hallway near the bathrooms. Call this stop 2-2.

Dad doesn't stop at 2-2 because the sick cat is an emergency. But in doing so, it means he's gone from the downstairs, all the way past the main floor where the vet is, up to the upstairs, then back down to the main floor, where the kitchen is to stop at the vet and then at Bingo’s home stop.

Trains and stairs

Dad’s lawnchair train doesn’t look like it’s the kind of cog railway that can climb steep inclines or stairs.

(Like the train in The Sound of Music)

Trains don’t like stairs.

So just to rehash this again -- We go from Bingo's home train station (at the foot of the stairs) to the daycare station, (the Kiwi playroom) and that's not an issue, because those are both on the same floor. But then they go from the playroom into the kitchen (to go to the vets stop.)

Those are on different floors!

Then we see the train travel from the laundry room (which I assert is on the lowest floor from past discussion) to the upstairs hallway stop by the bathrooms (where the Grannies are waiting) to the vet stop in the kitchen. These are all on different floors!

Plus Mum is able to routinely beat the train from the daycare to the vet (since she's pretending to be two different people)

How is this possible?

Easy answer, it's pretend. Maybe there's a pretend train on each floor and Bingo or Bluey have to transfer from one train to another and we don't see that.

Over-complicated answer: The house contains a system of helices (helixes) to allow the train to glide between floors at a reasonable grade, trading a much longer travel distance for ease-of-pushing for Dad. Mum can just take the stairs, which will always be faster.

There are some real-world railroad examples of these kinds of spirals; the Spiral Tunnels in western Canada's Rocky Mountains are a classic example, and they are a very common approach in model railroading to allow trains to change elevations in a relatively compact space.

These would take up an incredible amount of space in a house and make Dad dizzy!

But it would be funny.

It’s totally possible too, there are parts of the house we haven’t seen, and that’s where the spiral ramps are located.

Easy peasy!

#Bluey spiral ramps #Bluey rail engineering #Bluey

7 notes · View notes

scopnotes · 10 months

Note

aight deep lore time:

what is their basic life span?

where do they originate from?

adding onto the last one, have humans always known about them or are they a newly arrived species?

is their body composition different from humans and how so?

any particular diet or energy requirements for them to live? Oxygen? water? anything like that?

it seems they can shape shift, is it only to certain forms or can they become a wider array of shapes and sizes? mass shifting abilities?

any more back story on the parents of the three train kids?

do they possess any other powers? such as pyromancy or telekinesis, ect.

are there other autonomous/sentient species besides humans that they interact with?

I'll start with the last question and then I'll come back to the beginning.

The term 'Chtonian' was given by the humans in order to categorize the 'non-humans'. Its origin is from the belief that they come from the center of the Earth (which is false).

Those people are basically divided in 5 populations living with each other:

- The Machinas (Train/Transport People)

- The Comets (Sentient blob of water)

- The Converters (Rare arthropod like creatures)

- The Shadow People (Photosensitive beings)

- The Fungis (Sentient fungus, little is known about them)

All of them appeared differently and most believe it's 5 different gods that created them.

Their life span depend of the population, the comets are probably the oldest I think.

Train People probably live around ~500 years, something like that.

This species appeared when the god Machina appeared and divided its body in multiple parts (that believed to be train carts). In a good bunch of years appeared 4 species of Machinas that labelled themselves according to the direction where they were going to establish their territory (North, South, East and West). The train siblings family is a mix of the South and the East.

Humans know about Chtonians for a while now (a good bunch of centuries) but it’s still difficult for the both to live together.

Difficult to tell for the body composition, I’m still unsure about the biology. Chtonians like Converters, Machinas and Shadow People probably breathe oxygen and can eat like humans.

The whole Chtonian society is based on the ones that have the biggest quantity of energy called ‘Essence’.

Basically, the Essence is the vital energy of any living beings. It’s used as a currency between Chtonians. They basically share their energy between each other.

Unfortunately, humans seem to have only one fixed quantity of essence that they can’t share or recreate, causing them to be outcasted from Chtonian services.

Food and drinks exist but it’s mostly for little snacks that only ‘rich’ Chtonians dare buy for pleasure. The food is converted into extra essence for the consumer. The Machinas are considered being one of the ‘richest’ group of Cthonians and founded the country with their transports.

Turning into a train is a default capacity for the Machinas, the form is unique and depends of the person. I believe they can transform into only one specific form (for example, Waggon is a high-speed train and wouldn’t be able to shift into a tramway). Their look probably can evolve slightly while growing up.

ABOUT THE PARENTS: The dad (Ori) is from the East family and the mom (Austra) is from the South one. They can create railways together and both technically helped founding the siblings company. I don’t think they have any element related power unlike their children.

Aside that they are big buttholes towards their three children because they couldn’t meet their expectations in the job. Caarbon is the one suffering the most while Waggon was about to become the perfect daughter but her constant fights with her twin Arrson just makes her look immature. The parents have high hopes for their fourth kid though.

WOOOOOO THAT’S A LONG POST! Thank you for your interest in my art!

#train people #oc #original character #worldbuilding #lore #scopnotart #long post #ask #masterserris

32 notes · View notes

elizaditton · 1 year

Text

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 2)

Links:

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

My lungs cry out for more air than I can give them with each step of my quickening pace. I clutch the strap on my overnight bag to keep it from falling off my shoulder.

"3:57," Dad says, glancing at his watch as we run through the undercity railway entrance. "We can make it!"

"What?!" I holler to him, nearly losing my footing as we move up the stairs. "We're not going to make it, are you crazy?!"

We dart across the station, weaving through crowds and passing numerous trains. I lose count of how many times I've had to say 'excuse me' after bumping into so many people along the way.

"Don't tell me you've already given up hope!" Dad's gaze shifts upward. "Now, which platform was it again?"

"It's platform 16B, and I gave up hope when the movers arrived while we were still packing! We're lucky they were willing to wait the extra fifteen minutes for us to finish!"

"There it is, platform 16B! And with one minute to spare! Hah!" Dad laughs triumphantly and glances down at his watch. "Uh-oh."

"No uh-ohs!" I sprint through the crowd to catch up with him and look down at his watch. "4:02?!"

Dad and I turn our gazes to platform 16B and behold its trainless track.

"Well... I guess we can wait for the next one," Dad says, scratching his chin.

"That's three hours away," I say, pressing my fingers to my temple.

"How do you know that?" Dad starts looking around. "Did you see it somewhere?"

"I looked it up earlier in case... well, this happened again."

"Again? What do you mean?"

"Well, for starters," I say, folding my arms. "When we visited Grandma two years ago? We missed the train and made her wait up late for us."

Dad shrugs. "Okay, but that was just one time."

"Alright, then what about the time we went to North Eris to visit Uncle Lewis?"

"That was ages ago! You were only twelve!"

"Okay, what about when we wanted to take a day trip to Ashani last year? Or when we nearly missed the train home from the university this morning?"

Dad raises his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay," he says. "So I'm not that great at catching trains."

A voice overhead interrupts our conversation, "The four o'clock train from Maedri to Chancelor is now approaching platform 16B. We apologize for the delay."

Dad turns to me with a big grin and finger guns ablazing. "Made it just in time!"

I roll my eyes and smile. I guess he wins this round.

Shortly after boarding the train and sitting in the old, worn leather seats, we begin to move away from the only city I've ever called home. I set down the bag I was holding onto so tightly and rub my legs in an attempt to relieve myself of goosebumps.

"Hey," Dad says, pointing upward. "This train has a series of real skylights along the track. Maybe you can get some good nature pictures."

I look up and see a window. Through the window is the dull, lifeless sea of gray that is the ceiling to the undercity. It stares back at me, almost taunting me as it selfishly conceals the beauty of the world hidden above the surface. I pull out my phone, my heart racing at the opportunity to see the nature scenes the skylights have to offer. I've grown tired of the same old videos that play on the artificial skylights in town and have been longing for something real. I sit and wait in restless anticipation for the skylights to appear.

All at once, the melancholy of the undercity is stripped away as I'm nearly blinded by a bright blue sky. Fallen blossoms adorn the glass above, in beautiful shades of pastel pink and white. Big, wide, sturdy trees reach high up into the heavens with no end in sight. The sight leaves me in such awe that I forget to take any pictures.

And then I see two pertheans tower over the glass.

Everything stops. I let out a gasp, my phone slipping through my fingers and onto the train floor. My insides flip completely upside-down, and my entire being trembles as I turn my widened eyes to the ground.

Something touches my left shoulder, causing me to flinch. I turn and see Dad's hand resting there.

"Breathe," Dad whispers. "It's okay."

I take in a shuddery breath and hold it in for a few seconds before letting it go. Shaking, I lean over and pick up my phone from the train floor. That's enough surface world for one day.

#tstba #too small to be afraid #perthea #g/t #giant/tiny

34 notes · View notes