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jtl-fics · 1 year

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Fluent Freshman - Part 19

There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.

1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.

He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).

So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.

So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.

He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.

He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.

Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.

He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.

Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.

(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)

This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.

2. Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.

After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)

But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.

For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.

This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.

Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).

FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.

Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.

He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.

Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.

Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.

Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.

He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.

Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.

FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.

FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.

After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)

He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.

FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?

The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-

The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.

He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.

He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.

He is ULTRA stealth.

Romero’s gaze glides over him.

Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).

His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)

His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.

Well fuck.

He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).

He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.

He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.

He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.

He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.

He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.

He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.

He pretends to be on a phone call.

“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.

He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).

He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.

He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“

“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.

“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.

“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.

“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.

FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’

Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.

“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.

HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.

“I’d like that.” He says.

He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.

‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’

The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.

“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.

The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.

There really are some kind people in the world.

“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.

The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.

“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.

He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.

He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.

His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…

He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.

(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)

He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.

He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.

Jackson Plank.

FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.

Okay now what genius?

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Lillyndra it worked this time!!!

#Fluent Freshman AU #Is it a songfic chapter if it's only 3 lines? Experts aren't sure #Did I listen to lose yourself a lot while writing this chapter? Perhaps #If Nora mentioned something about Jackson or Romero in her extras I did not read it #Also gonna be honest here and state that I forgot the likely year that AFTG happened in and this is happening in 2010 #So I guess this AU also involves a slight time shift #Andrew and Neil may have gotten lost in one another's eyes a bit down in the speakeasy #Really they're just being polite to get all of their PDA out of the way while FF is taking what might be the piss of a lifetime.#(They have no idea how accurate that might be)#Andrew is all set to kiss one of his favorite of Neil's freckles (yes he has ordered them from favorite to lesser favorite)#Then his phone goes off #He looks and it's Roland #Andrew: WTF is Roland trying to call me?#Nicky is busy being the Dancing Queen. If someone plays ABBA he will absolutely scream rn #I had considered a whole sequence of FF trying to get Nicky and Aaron to the safety of the backroom in Eden's #And Nicky just keeps reappearing on the dancefloor while FF is looking for Aaron #I was gonna use that simpsons meme where Moe throws out Barney and then Barney is just right back in the bar #But it got a little too crazy #But just know in this AU Nicky is canonically an excellent escape artist #Maybe Erik went through a bit of a magician phase and Nicky was DELIGHTED to be asked to be his assistant #Maybe that's how they got together #The inherent ROMANCE of magician and assistant #I don't remember if they ever really said in the books or nora's content #If I'm rambling because I forgot to shut off my alarm (Memorial Day 4-day weekend baby)#The fate of FF's phone may have been caused by some slight anger towards my own #RIP FF's Wymack phone (July 2010 - November 2010)#AFTG #AFTG AU #Andreil #FF - Pt.19

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robinfollies · 7 months

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me and the guy i pulled by accidentally implying i like jazz music

#kicking off my tumblr posting with a silly little comic i made!#billie bust up #bbu arthur #bbu aristotle #arthurstotle #robin’s art #robin’s follies #<- for my sillies. hows that for a good tag hehe #im such a sucker for arthurstotle #they’re so cute to me SORRY AGH #this is intended to take place pretty early in their relationship #this comic also kinda just. wrote itself. i drew the arthur ‘ya like jazz’ and it went from there!#dialogue might be a bit awkward because of that sorry haha #i dont think im that good a writer… but i try!!#i have fun and thats what matters #also good thing about posting this here #i got to correct a few of the mistakes in prev postings #like adding stotles eyelashes ( ik they dont have those in canon but i always draw him with those so. looks weird without em)#this gave me a headache after drawing it btw. their power is too strong!!!#anyhoo!#tags are fun i like rambling in them #i’ll leave things off here #buhbye!!! thanks for reading my thing hehe 💖#2023 art #comicfollies

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artsycooky13 · 2 months

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wanted to draw some hermits since i was binge watching a couple episodes here and there- first time drawing them seriously with my own design

#hermitcraft #been watching on and off recently #i wanted to try and draw some peeps- having looked at a few fandom designs as inspiration and a little bit of reference #might redesign the 3rd batch- i was kinda winging it when colouring and designing them ('cept for suma- might change his colour pallete tho #also this might be just me- but tango- the name- always reminded me of a lizard/gecko kind of character #so i went with a fire gecko- with elfy ears- idk i just think its a really neat idea #grian is so short lmao #etho is just etho #there was an idea that each hermit may lean more cartoonish to realism- depending on how i design their minecraft skins #by the end of it i kinda just did whatever lol #my art #minecraft #minecraft fanart #hermitcraft fanart #hermitcraft fandom #doc is pretty tall- but i had to scale him down so he fit in the roster lmao

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the-toybox-general · 3 months

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AHHHH I've been playing Digimon Cyber Sleuth on and off again and I FINALLY digivolved my starting digimon ( Palmon ) all the way up to Rosemon !!! I wanted to sketch them for that reason... it took way longer than expected...!! But for that reason it feels like a big achievement!

This is specifically supposed to be my Rosemon ( His name is Squire ) but I think I could design him to have more of his own cool unique details as an actual Digimon oc !! So this is Squire... for now !!!

#my art #toybox-arts #Digimon #Rosemon #Cyber Sleuth is the first digimon game i picked up to ACTUALLY get a grip on the series #i played dusk as a child but i didnt understand it and gave up #So I didnt actually know.. palmon could become rosemon but as soon as i knew i was soo excited #one of those designs ive seen and gone crazy abt... what a cool design !!!#squire went by errm...#Palmon to Sunflowmon to Lillymon to Rosemon!#I mean . he has to devolve a time or two to get to rosemon but you know you know #i wanted to keep a bit of that silly creature energy from sunflowmon because it was so notable to me #so I tried to at least give this rosemon a little fang and funny mouth!!!#if anyone reads my tag ramble... ty... im very new to digimon but i am passionate at times yes #This was a good shake off sketch for da day.. i gotta get to owed artwork !! ( running off )

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chaoswarfare · 1 year

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a little dp x dc art ;))

gotham in the ghost zone

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #gotham #ghost zone #just a little thing i made while i was on the painkillers #remember when i got hit with the chair?#well that got infected a little bit and when i went to get it checked out i had a fracture in my skull and neck #and i had just been trying to walk it off for two weeks #so they decided to confine me to bed rest hell with minimal blue light from screens #i absolutely did not listen to the second part #but i’m back now!#yay health

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batsplat · 5 days

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It's a thing I already knew but all your beautiful analysis really made obvious (to me) how much of a grudge holder vale is. That man is never letting it go he's gonna hold his grudges into his grave

you know, I do think this is an interesting issue, because I'm not sure this is true of all his grudges. just sticking here with the grudges he accumulated in his capacity as a competitor, rather than just his general approach to life or whatever... how you judge this will kinda depend on how you feel about the 'reconciliation' he's experienced with some of his rivals - and whether you read the whole thing as sincere or not. now, personally I reckon he still dislikes biaggi, but also you are allowed to just dislike people so I'll give him a pass for that. some of the others, I'm a little more convinced by the whole reconciliation schtick

let's get valentino's take:

interesting that he mentions those three together, isn't it? and like, he's still not messaging biaggi or inviting him to his home - "even with max" kind of tells you all you need to know - but the other two? they said some proper nasty things to each other over the years!! I mean, the casey rivalry, there's some remarks from both sides where quite frankly I think I would struggle just a touch to get over it

I don't know, obviously this could all be pr stuff, but I kind of feel like... y'know, why bother? it's 2022, you're retired, who gives a fuck? sure it's a good look to be all magnanimous, sure it can be a bit of a way of twisting in the knife to the guys left in the cold, but also, who would care if you don't play nice? I think especially with jorge, you surely don't need to do all that, inviting him to your home and dancing with him... (which, again, some of the spats those two had...) and with the casey rivalry, if there's one guy who's still hung up about what happened between the pair of them, it's obviously casey (speaking of blokes who can hold a grudge). maybe this is giving valentino too much credit, but personally I buy it's more or less sincere. there's nothing to really indicate he's still particularly bothered by any of their past disagreements - he's basically going for the 'all's fair in love and motorcycle racing' approach. he knows he was an asshole, he accepts they were assholes too, whatever, that's how these things work. he's generally a fan of drama in rivalries, unsurprisingly, and he was happy enough to contribute his fair share - but he does see it as fundamentally being part of the game

to point out the obvious, check out who he's left out: sete and marc. that's where he can't let go of the grudges... because it's not about the offence itself as much as it is about the betrayal. this is the thing with valentino, right, it's about what kind of bond you had with him. if you weren't his friend in the first place and then piss him off as a rival then, y'know, whatever. obviously he's going to be vicious in trying to get back at you, but also he's really not going to waste his time feeling too aggrieved by it. I mean, think about how all the bullshit between him and casey dropped off sharply post-2012... from valentino's end anyway. think about how jorge and valentino pretty quickly got on again whenever they weren't fighting for supremacy within yamaha. they weren't friends in the first place, then they were enemies for competitive reasons for a while there, then it's over and valentino is basically happy enough to call it bygones

but... if it's a certain kind of bond you had with him and then you wrong him... that little mental list of all his past grievances, all your past transgressions, that's where it comes in. that's where he ices you out. denies you any emotional warmth. ensures that any interaction going forward is conducted entirely on his terms. where even any public 'reconciliation' won't truly be sincere.... or, certainly he's not going to forget what happened. if something else happens... it's like you've always got the potential of triggering this lingering resentment, in a way, where all that past stuff is still primed and ready to be called upon. he certainly doesn't just let it go

or, as he puts it in his autobiography:

Biaggi and I never talk to each other. I mean, we've never had a real conversation, anything that's lasted more than the requisite time to insult each other or put each other down, in the nastiest way possible. In any case, I don't hate him. It's true, we've never been friends, but hatred is something different, and that's too serious a word to describe our relationship. Far too serious. No, we have a reciprocal antipathy. No doubt this is a result of what we do for a living and the fact that we both want to win every single time. And perhaps it's also a function of the fact that we have very different personalities and very different ways of seeing things. Still, I don't think this means we hate each other, as some journalists have written. I think I could feel hatred for someone, but only for someone far worse than anything Biaggi has done. For example, if I were betrayed by a friend, then, yes, I could hate him. But Biaggi will never betray my friendship for the simple reason that we are not, and never have been, friends. Our relationship is very clear: we compete on the track - outside the track, each goes his own way. You could say we detest each other cordially.

... I mean. he said it, not me. and given this book was first published in '05... biaggi can't betray his friendship because they were never friends... I'm not saying he's thinking about sete, but it has to at least be a possibility, right? he's talking about one rivalry here and refusing to even mention the other... and the one he's refusing to mention is the one where he was friends with the other bloke. I don't know, maybe that's reading too much into it! and anyway, even if this passage wasn't really about sete, it's obviously still revealing. "detest each other cordially" is essentially what he was doing with casey and jorge (or from his point of view in any case, not entirely sure they'd agree with that). the grudge comes when he feels let down by you... and then, yes, he'll never let it go

of course, he's willing to set aside his grievances for a while if there's sufficient motivation for him to do so. in 2009, when he had so definitively won that rivalry with sete, why bother kicking up a fuss? in 2016, quite frankly it was just too much, and it was getting to the point where it was obviously hurting him too. on the one hand there was the media furore that had been going on non-stop since sepang, on the other hand it was also hurting his own approach to racing. there's reports from the time how visibly aggrieved he still was in the first few races of the season, and it took until they got back to europe for him to... y'know, have fun again. it's not sustainable to be walking around with a constant dark cloud over your head and broadcasting burning resentment towards your two main rivals. certainly not for someone like valentino - he needs to be having fun! the slight rapprochement needed to happen, in a way, because otherwise those years would have been even worse for everyone involved. but that doesn't actually translate to forgetting any of those grudges. this is about convenience more than anything else

goes to show, really... most of the time he doesn't take these things personally. I talked about it a bit in this post, how maybe it's also something that changed over time for him: the question of whether he was willing to develop these kinds of bonds in the first place with competitors... because he does possess a certain level of self-awareness in terms of what these kinds of rivalries are like and what they do to interpersonal relationships. ideally, you don't want to be hurt by a friend like that, right? better not to have that kind of emotional attachment with your competitors in the first place. how unfortunate it'd be if all those years after sete the circumstances aligned for him to see a competitor as something like a friend again... because, after all, those are the only people who could betray him. those are the only people where he thinks he could truly hate them

#this response kinda got away from me a little bit but I wrestled it to a stop before it really went on a tangent #we were this close to a sepang 2016 sidebar #anyway listen I restricted this to how he conducts himself *in competition* for a reason so y'know. I do think it's a difference #ugh this is tied very closely to another post in my drafts that ideally I'd link to but one of these has to be posted first so #anitalianfrie #valentino rossi #rosquez #kinda maybe #//#4693 #sg15 #i do frequently think about casey messaging valentino about his daughter btw....... kills me a little #but also again when I get to the casey thesis this is like a big pillar of it - this slight disconnect within casey #he was still slagging off valentino the rider on a 4hr podcast like a year after he's sending him a bunch of messages about his daughter #he's still slagging off valentino THIS YEAR. they're very funny to me. I can buy valentino can separate these things out #but casey? very interesting of him #I think it's actually kinda notable how little valentino has relitigated past grievances post retirement when compared to his rivals #With One Notable Exception. I do feel like at a certain point of fame and success you should try and be above this kind of thing #but I mean there is a universe where valentino is calling casey weak for laguna or whatever in 2024

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wickedcitrus · 21 days

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inspired by this post

#this has been a psa to wipe down your electronics with a little bit of isopropyl alcohol (devices turned off of course)#as well as accessories like headphones mice and keyboards #pokemon #pkmn #bro visited his friend #yeah so i went to go visit my friend #friendpilled visitmaxxer #visit my friend meme #meme #hopefully that isnt tag spam i just don't know what the name of this meme's called #wickyc

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nibbelraz · 4 months

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shang qinghua deserves to be a) squeezed like a stress ball and b) a god who kind of but not really lost control

And now I want to talk about how cool it would be if like uh uh the system and sqh were having custody battles over who has more control over the world and obviously its the system the system is really wierd and thats an entire discussion but qinghua is the author and that's really really important to me he should write stuff into existence I think but also last week I had an idea that went like uh sqh loses more and more power as he changes things, so when he's transmigrated in as a baby he loses a lot of 'power' unintentionally and then when mobei comes in there's a thing and when sy comes in he literally just loses it all and he knows this inst really his story anymore

Aahahaha it's 2am I'm gonna stop yammering now good luck on your future endeavors

Mobei is always squeezing Shang Qinghua like a stress ball but affectionately

I, on the other hand, squeeze him and shake him around like a chew toy

Your idea tho!!!! I'm very interested in that!!!

CUSTODY BATTLE OF POWERS a fitting description

It's kinda like, yeah he was a God of that world because he wrote it out and can change anything on a whim.

But once you're actually a part of that world, well it's a little hard to change it since you're living in it.

I'm really interested in Shang Qinghua slowly but surely realizing he's not really in his own story. Yeah he wrote it yeah he made the character but when does the line between "I wrote this character" and "theyre an in depth person with feelings and lives and to me they were only written in a second but here they're actually someone " blur

He spent his whole second life clinging to everything to live and worrying about that characters future and using everyone around him to save himself

When did he really see these people as...people

A one off character becoming his friend

A minor character dying to advance the plot, does he see the grief? Does he say they're characters to help digest what he's done? He never meant for any of this to be real, so how does he handle it?

Does he finally see everyone as real, or does he simply become a character as well?

#im actually not great at analysiss and a bit of my orv existentialism popped out here but! hope i kinda said something coherent #svsss #shang qinghua #mobei jun #I think I went a little off what you were trying to say #sorry! Also #please #if you have more to talk about I'm always happy to listen!!! ^#also i think qinghua does ene up being aware that people in his world are people #i think he really would try to make things better #he did try to help Shen Jiu with a major plot point at one point so #im sure he'll try to minimize a lot of other arcs that cause tragedy #nib text #ask

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domesticandlovingmonsters · 2 years

Text

Wesker x Reader (sfw)

Request: Wesker is on his way to rescue you from an outbreak of the T-virus.

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

It was a normal morning.

You had woken up early to get started with your day, getting ready with your usual breakfast food and hot beverage. Flicking through your phone aimlessly while you munched away.

Nothing was out of place.

Until your phone lit up with an unknown number. Once, you would have ignored it and possibly blocked it. But nowadays, an unknown number filled you with excitement. And you eagerly pressed the green button and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Wesker, it's been month-”

“Are you home?” The harsh tone cut you off before you could finish your sentence. Your smile fell from your lips and you immediately felt your heartbeat pound in your ears.

“I am. Why?” You asked, half getting up from your seat.

“Lock the doors and hide. Your area has been contaminated with a T-Virus strain.” Behind his coarse voice you heard the sounds of sirens and people yelling. You didn’t ask where he was, but ran to your front door and immediately ensured it was securely locked. Any window that you found uncovered was closed and locked.

“Do you know how much it has spread?” You asked. You weren’t an operative like Wesker, you had nothing to do with Umbrella or its pharmaceuticals. But you knew about the outbreaks, the cities and towns, the B.O.Ws that had been destroyed and brushed under a rug. It wasn’t that Wesker told you everything, but Umbrella’s mistakes were a common thing. The public knew about the weird monsters and strange disappearances. It was just safer for everyone to shut up about it.

“Just don’t go outside.” Was Wesker’s only reply. You tried to breathe a calming breath, and you realized you were shaking. You peered through a curtain, looking out onto the street. There was a person walking their dog and some kids riding by on their bikes.

The sun was shining and you couldn’t see a single streak of smoke on the horizon.

Was this how it always started?

Quietly? Subtly?

“I-Is it actually in my neighborhood or closer to the city?” You asked. If you knew how far away it was, you could possibly have time to better secure yourself in your house. Put furniture up against the doors and pick a better hiding spot than under the bed.

“We lost contact with our operatives transferring a sample three blocks away from your house.” Wesker told you. You heard the sound of a car engine roaring to life and the sound of someone barking orders. “I’m coming to get you, do not leave your house.”

You were about to say something when the line disconnected. You looked down at your phone and saw your service had died.

“Fucking Umbrella,” You spat angrily.

Wesker had run you down what happens during an outbreak.

‘To prepare you for a likely situation’ Wesker had told you when you asked why he was giving away such important information.

Services were always the first to go. To stop the panic from spreading by people calling others to come get them and warn them of what was happening. It was better to keep as much of the hysteria contained as possible.

Clean up teams were sent out soon after. To capture or eliminate any samples they came across and to destroy evidence that would lead to Umbrella’s cooperation to the “accident”. Survivors were rounded up and sent to encampments for treatment. Or eliminated if they were exposed to the virus.

If the virus spread too much or mutated in a way that could not be contained, the area was destroyed.

Other than that, you knew nothing else about Umbrella’s operations when it came to outbreaks. You read articles on the internet and saw papers about it. But the public didn’t really know what was going on.

You just had an early warning system if something was going to shit near you.

The morning ticked on painfully slow. You huddled in your bedroom, readying to dive under your bed the moment you heard anything that wasn’t Wesker beating down the door.

And then, some time after your last call with Wesker, you heard it.

An explosion shook the walls around you and you flinched as a distant scream echoed down the street. A police siren sounded and you heard it rush past your house and round a corner.

You were shaking. You felt the burn of tears begin as you imagined what was outside.

What if Wesker didn’t get here fast enough?

What if something worse than a Zombie beat down your door?

You took a breath. Clenching the blanket between your fingers in an attempt to calm yourself.

“There’s no one here.” You mumbled to yourself. “The house is locked up. No one can see inside. They have no reason to come here.”

BangBangBang!

The sound of gunfire made you scream in fright. It sounded like it was coming from next door. You slid off the mattress and crawled under the bed as someone started screaming curses. You could make out something else screeching in reply.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Slower shots this time. Taking their time as whatever was chasing them got closer. The last shot followed a cry of agony and your bedroom window exploded as the bullets shattered the glass.

You slapped your hand over your mouth to stifle your shout. Glass rained down on your carpeted floor and you crawled a little ways back from the now open window. Pressing yourself against the wall from under the bed.

The gurgled screams slowly ceased into nothing more than the sound of wet tearing of flesh. You closed your eyes. Begging whatever was out there to just eat its fill and move on. The window wasn’t that far off the ground and now with it entirely open to the outside world, anything could crawl in.

There’s no reason for it to come in here. You told yourself. Stay quiet and it’ll go away.

Then you saw it. The shadow crawled over the glass covered floor as something stepped into the open window. A long, low groan called out into the room. And you pressed your hand even harder against your mouth as you saw the shadow rise and a body tumbled into the room.

It landed face first on the glass. Its body was pale and sickly, blood splattered the sports attire it wore and tears welled up in your eyes as you recognized the outfit from this morning. The walker with his dog.

You almost screamed as the corpse started to move. Its arms dragged themselves along the ground to prop itself up, lifting its head from the floor and heaving its legs up underneath it. Thankfully, it didn’t see you. Its entire torso was covered in shards of glass piercing through the white shirt. You glimpsed drops of blood splatter on the carpet and soak into the material.

You couldn’t breathe. What if it heard you? Your heart pounded in your chest and you squeezed your eyes shut, forcibly trying to calm your racing pulse.

Bang!The deafening sound made you jump. And you watched as the corpse collapsed to its knees and fell forward. A hole punched cleanly through its forehead. You looked away from the dead gray eyes and gaping, blood soaked mouth. It was horrifying.

“Hello?” A voice softly called into the room. “Is anyone in there?”

It wasn’t a voice you recognized. A woman’s voice softly called out again, and another hissed for her to be quiet. “What if someone is hiding in here? We can’t leave them.”

“What if there's more of those things in there? We can’t risk ourselves for-”

“I’m here.” You said, waving your arm out from under the bed. “T-Thank you for killing it.”

You saw boots land inside your house, the glass crunching under the woman’s feet as she approached the bed and peered under it. You wiped away the tears and gave her a small smile.

“Not a very good hiding spot.” You commented. And the woman shrugged.

“I wouldn’t have checked. But now I’ll start doing that.” Her smile was sweet. And she offered her hand out to you. “Come with us. We’re gathering the neighbors at my house to wait for rescue. I’m Becky. I live in that big mansion down the street.”

You recognized the woman. You offered her the usual friendly passing wave as you walked the streets. And you knew the house. It was a luxurious looking building with big concrete fences with two big stories, each with some massive glass windows.

You half crawled out of the bed to look at the woman’s companion. She had her back to the room, a rifle in her hand as she watched the surroundings.

“You’re going out in this to get people together?” You asked. Somewhat surprised by the notion. And the woman, Becky, nodded.

“We’re safer together. My sister is an officer. And I’m a nurse, I work at the primary school but I can still stitch up cuts worse than splinters.” She offered you her hand again. “It's not safe here now. Come on.”

You couldn’t disagree with her. The rest of the house was easily accessible from the street. You didn’t have any sort of strong fence to keep the Infected out. And with the window now broken, anything could get inside. Even if you were to have the door shut.

You nodded. Taking her hand in yours, Becky helped you out from under the bed. Making sure none of the shards of glass had cut you.

“Can I quickly write a note?” You asked as Becky went to climb out of the window. “A friend of mine is coming and I want to make sure he knows where I am.”

“Of course.” Becky replied. But her sister gave you a stern glare.

“Be quick.” The sister said and you nodded. Rushing into the kitchen, finding a piece of paper and pen to scribble down a note for Wesker.

Albert, Bedroom window was breached. I’m ok. Neighbors are taking me to the mansion down the street. Be safe.

(Y/N)

You pinned it to your fridge with a very colorful magnet and hurried back to the bedroom window. Slipping on some boots of your own and climbing out of the shattered panel.

“Keep low, and follow us. We’re circling back to the house but we need to avoid the roads.” The sister explained in a hushed tone. You nodded. Taking up position between Becky and her sister, with the rifle in front, swinging back and forth as you reached the street in front of your house.

You couldn’t see anything on the road. The street looked entirely empty and quiet.

The officer peered around the side of your house, the barrel of her weapon pointed where she was looking. Then she started moving forward. Jogging across the street to the cover of another house; you followed close behind her with Becky sticking close to your rear.

Surprisingly, there weren't a lot of Infected. You heard one inside a house, knocking something over, and you witnessed a pale, dead face gnawing at the back door of another. But there was no flood of undead or shambling hordes.

No fires or explosions.

Just quiet.

You were brought to the mansion a little time later. Becky unlocked the doors and let you in, ensuring the entrance was locked once more before leading you up the stairs and onto the second floor.

You were brought to the kitchen. It was huge, with white counter tops and massive sinks.

You were pretty sure you’ve only seen kitchens like this in movies or displays at super stores. Huddled around the room were seven other people. They looked terrified and one was nursing a bloody arm in a makeshift sling.

He looked pale, but gave you a small greeting as you entered the room.

“Please, there's food and water in the fridge if you need them.” Becky told you. But you shook your head, thanking her.

“I don’t think I could eat right now,” You said with a humorless chuckle. “How bad is it? Before you got to me, did you see much?”

Becky shook her head. Gesturing to her sister. “Sarah came straight back after the police station was told about a riot a few blocks away. Call us crazy, but we’ve seen the news. We’re not taking any chances that this “riot” isn’t just another Umbrella cover up. Then we saw some guy get taken down by a few kids and he rose back up after his insides were spilled out over the road. Not to scare you, love, but it's a horror movie out there.”

You nodded. Smiling gently.

“I appreciate you taking the time to check my house.” You said. “I have no idea how I would have gotten that thing out of the room.”

Becky shrugged, smiling in return. “I’m glad we found you. But now we should bunker down and wait this out. I’m sure some sort of rescue is on its way. Sarah made a few calls and we should get out of here soon.” She had turned to the rest of the group, speaking to them as much as you. The group gave affirmations with small nods and quiet words of thanks.

You stayed by the door, rubbing your arms to give yourself some comfort as Becky went over to the injured man and inspected his injury.

“Feeling any better?” She asked. And the man laughed a sober chuckle.

“I got shot by an idiot, how do you think I am?” He asked.

Sarah came up by your elbow, the rifle now hanging comfortably by her side as she approached. “The note you left, who is it for?” She asked.

“A friend.” You replied. “Why?”

“I wanted to warn you that if they come here infected with whatever is out there, I’m putting a bullet through their skull. Got it?” Sarah said. Her tone was stern and the glare that matched it almost made you laugh.

“You won’t have to worry about that.” You said with a reassuring smile. “But I appreciate the warning.”

You held the officer’s gaze almost long enough that it would have turned uncomfortable. But then, your pocket started to ring. Gasps carried around the room as you quickly silenced the call, answering it as you put it to your ear. You were met with the roar of engines and hurricane winds that blasted through the speakers.

But Wesker’s voice growled through the white noise. “You’re not injured?”

“No. I’m down the street.” You said, turning away from Sarah. “You saw my note?”

“A Team of mine swept through your house, they notified me of the Infected in your room and gave me your location. Meet me out front.”

You could barely hear him over the noise behind him. However, the call ended before you could reply. You looked down at your phone and saw the signal had returned. But then it fell away moments later.

“How did they call you?” Sarah demanded. “Our phones aren’t working.”

You shrugged. Unabling to give them an answer since you didn’t know yourself.

Then someone hushed the room. Pointing up to the ceiling.

“Hear that?”

You strained your ears to listen for whatever the person heard. In the heavy silence, a low drumming beat could be heard. And it was getting closer.

“It's a rescue!” A younger woman exclaimed. “They’re coming to get us.”

You felt your heart drop at the sudden realization of the situation. You stood back as the group hurried to the windows, peering through slits in the curtains to peer into the sky until someone excitedly pointed. You didn’t need to see what it was.

And you weren’t surprised that Wesker was coming in a less subtle way.

Becky looked at Sarah, her confusion plain on her face. “Your station doesn’t have a helicopter. Who on earth would have gotten us that?”

“No one.” Sarah said, then her eyes turned on you. “No one I know has a helicopter.”

You didn’t meet their eyes. Instead, you left the room and descended the stairs to the front door. You could hear Becky following behind you.

“Do they have enough space for all of us?” She asked. And you sighed.

“I don’t know. To be honest, you may have to wait for another rescue.” You flicked the lock and opened the door. Walking down the path to the street as two massive SUV’s pulled up along the street. Soldiers swathed in black uniforms with gas masks stepped out of the car and immediately created a perimeter around the house. One approached you, a medical badge slapped on his chest.

“There’s a man inside that has an injury.” You told them. “Could you have a look at it?”

“I’ve been ordered to ensure you are unharmed and free of contamination.” The person replied. Pulling a small flashlight from their belt and blinding each of your eyes with it. They then took your hand and drew some blood with a needle. You winced, grumbling irritably as a small bandage was wrapped around the tiny prick and the blood was put into some kind of machine on the person’s wrist.

You looked up as the winds started to whirl around you. The medical person stepped to the side as a helicopter descended from the sky. A large Umbrella symbol painted on the side of the black metal. You shielded your eyes from the dust and wind, watching as the machine began to hover just above the street.

You watched as the side door was thrown open, and Wesker dropped from the helicopter in a flurry of his black coat. A drop from that height would have hurt any normal person. But Wesker seemed unfazed, striding towards you as the little machine on the man’s arm pinged green.

“No Infection found, sir.” They said. And Wesker nodded, waving his hand dismissively and the medical personnel scurried away.

The cool leather of Wesker’s glove was a nice comfort as he cupped your cheek with his hand. Looking down at you through those dark tinted sunglasses as he examined your face.

“I told you to stay home.” He said, with surprising tenderness to his rough voice.

“Someone shot through my window and an Infected got in.” You told him. Leaning into his touch. “These people came and got me.” You turned enough so you could point to the huddled group in the doorway.

Wesker’s gaze didn’t move from your face. His thumb petted along your cheekbone and he chuckled softly. “Of course you give me more work.” He said with a small smirk. “Check them over for infections. And get them to the safe zone.” Wesker ordered, and you watched as a collection of the soldiers nearby hurried up to the house. The medical person slipped inside and you saw Becky mouth ‘thank you’, as she disappeared after them.

Wesker’s hand slid down your shoulders to the small of your back and he gently guided you underneath the helicopter.

His other arm then scooped under you, and he cradled you against his chest as he leapt up into the belly of the helicopter. The rush of the leap made your stomach lurch, but you clung to him as he settled your feet down on the metal floor and had you sit by the door.

With one smooth motion, Wesker closed the door and the roar of the blades was dulled. But it was still deafening inside.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” You said over the noise as Wesker sat beside you. “But what the hell happened?”

Wesker slid his hand over your leg to settle on your knee. Giving it a gentle squeeze as he looked at you. “I’m glad you’re safe.” Was all he replied with. A smirk stretching his lips as you rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.” You said. Leaning against Wesker’s arm as the helicopter rose into the air. You didn’t know what was going to happen or where you were going. Your home was now in a contaminated area and you doubted you’d be allowed home for a while. The thought of the zombie was still fresh on your mind, and you couldn’t imagine going back into that bedroom alone. You placed your hand over Wesker’s on your knee, returning the squeeze.

“Can you stay with me tonight? Or do they need you?” You asked, looking up at Wesker as he shook his head.

“I’m staying with you.” He said softly. “Rest, (y/n). You’re safe now.”

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#resident evil wesker #albert wesker x reader #wesker x reader #albert wesker #resident evil #reader insert #zombie #request #tbh feeling a bit off with the story #will probably rewrite it when a little less sick #story went differently than planned

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