#Edith Piaf thoughts

[coffeesleep-ooc]

tragedy bunhe

Hymne a l’amour is very Binghe, he would completely feel like the song describes all his love for SQQ and even cry crocodile tears without making it for show when hearing it. That is, if he knew french…

…

what if old style french bingqiu…

it probably has been done before but my brain is sleep deprived and therefore decides to create aus out of nowhere

anyways

what if Edith Piaf!LBH, who sings only bc he wants ro find his beloved SY but suffers instead. Hq would still think it’s worth it, maybe, just maybe, he will be seen and they will find each other

will he, though?

[deathsmallcaps]

prompt for any fandom or original fiction:

waking up in hospital, but the lights are off, no ones around.

Thanks for the ask! My inbox is open for prompts! This is for Talk To Me (2022), an Australian horror film.

The candle is blown, and Mia opens her eyes. She’s back in the hospital. It’s darker now, and there’s nobody.

Mia explores, walking now instead of running like before. The elevator her Dad took has a lit button panel, but nothing happens when she presses them. Riley’s recovery room is bare. The windows are mostly opaque, but occasionally a warm light will appear, or the shadow of a hand (rarely as mangled as her own) will brush up against it, indicating light beyond.

She tries to break them, to reach out to those hands beyond the glass, but all that happens is that she wakes up in the same starting spot, all over again.

Purgatory is fucking boring to the point of being awful. But Mia is vaguely glad she’s not in hell, if she’s this miserable here.

Occasionally, the darkness will envelope her, and there will be a candle and a hand, reaching out to her.

She always takes it, of course. Despite the gibbering, repentant madness that overwhelms her mind each time, she needs that interaction. There are very few things that are worse than being alone in that hospital.

At first, over the years, all she can do is desperately beg to speak to Riley, and Jade, and whoever else she hopes could still possibly be alive, could still forgive her and her sins.

But they’re usually just kids. Kids at a party, who often don’t even speak English. So after a while, she can occasionally swallow the madness. She thinks back to one of the first times she herself was possessed, and a Frenchwoman sang a song, perhaps about fools. She didn’t do well in French class. It seems so long ago now. And stupid.

How long had she been dead?

She doesn’t want these kids to be dead.

So she tells them. When she can. Tries to warn them of the curse she can only guess at, the rumors that floated through the wind when she was trying to fix Riley’s possession.

And slowly. Slowly slowly slowly. She can tell them more often. And the time between Talks takes longer and longer. It’s agonizing to be alone, in that hospital, where either her insanity or her trusting, loving foolishness reached its peak.

But it’s better than knowing that somewhere, out there, another soul is entering a purgatory like hers. Or worse.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been alone now. Even the shadows of hands seemingly fade away.

Mia is laying on the floor one day, face up, contemplating trying to eat the ceiling tiles again (all that lay behind is that opaque glass again, and all damage, all proof of herself resets after each Talk. There’s no point really.) when she hears a tiny crinkle.

There is no sound except for herself and the Talkers. Something is different.

She goes into the room where the sound seemingly echoed from. Riley’s room.

There’s a crack in the glass.

And it grows, splintering and shattering, the longer she stares at it.

Mía tries to break through, but she ends back up in her starting spot. And when she opens her eyes, she can hear again.

And everything is shattering.

She scrambles to her feet. The noise, a mere few moments ago a curious joy, is now overwhelming. Running, running past the desk and the beds and everything else, Mia arrives at the elevator.

It dings.

And the door opens up.

Mia rushes in, and turns to see her entire little world shattering into void.

And there is a man standing by the button panel inside the elevator. He presses the up button and smiles, holding his arms out to her.

“Dad?”

[ingravinoveritas]

(**Warning: Spoilers for OFMD season 2, episodes 6 and 7.)

Just finished watching the newest episodes of OFMD 2 and I am a complete shambles. The fact that we've now gotten multiple Ed/Stede kisses, and everything around how messy and beautiful and human they are, has left me aching. But mostly all I can think about is how badly I want to see this with Michael and David:

We've already seen how powerful their connection is--on and off screen--and I would so love to see Michael and David portray this type of intimacy, even if it's not in Good Omens. I want to see them in that afterglow, that utter domesticity of the second gif, resting against throw pillows and bathed in soft morning light. Imagine seeing Michael and David so vulnerable and messy and queer, so perfectly queer and human and alive. And I want them to do it in a context where they don't have to apologize, where there's no hemming or hawing or hedging, only bodies and hearts doing what they do when two people who belong to each other share a moment like this.

I truly hope it does happen someday, both for Michael and David's sakes and ours...

[wolfstargazer]

Remus can speak French. So long as it's gleaned from the lyrics of Piaf, Greco, and Hardy records.

[island-in-the-shadows]

THIS.

When I was learning French Edit Piaf was one of my go-to's so I know "La vie en rose" well. When Izzy sang the original and it was cut in between shots of the lead up to lovemaking it did me IN. I was lanced in the fucking heart. Because of all this text above reasons and then because it was Izzy singing it. This ridiculously uber romantic song and Izzy is in some fucked up unrequited love with one of those guys...I wanted to fucking chew glass and I was blushing and I was covering my face with my hands because holy shit.

Just...c'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie. Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie...

But then also this part at the end of the chorus...

Et, dès que je l'aperçois/ Alors, je sens en moi/ mon coeur qui bat (rough translation: and since I perceived it/him, i felt my heart beat.) I CHEW GLASS GODDAMMIT

I need y'all to understand how fucking important it is that their lovemaking song was La Vie En Rose.

Those translated covers you hear on TikTok take their lyrics from a Louis Armstrong cover of the original French version sung by Edith Piaf. The English lyrics are beautiful but there are some things lost in translation, which is why I love that they had Izzy sing the original French version while Stede and Ed are making love.

Edith Piaf's version of the song is all about the intensity of love and finding love after a trying time. Her vocals are incredible and bleed all the different emotions she feels while singing. Izzy starts with the English translation of the song, which goes:

But a closer translation to the original French would be:

"Quand il me prend dans ses bras; When he takes me into his arms/ Il me parle l'a tout bas; He holds me so softly/ Je vois la vie en rose; And I see life through rose-colored glasses."

Obviously this is fine and dandy, but it's the translation of the original French lyrics used later in the episode that really get me. Izzy sings this:

Which translates to this:

"He speaks words of love to me/ They are every day words/ And they do something to me.

"He has entered into my heart/ A bit of happiness/ That I know the cause of.

"It's only him for me/ And me for him, for life/ He told me, he swore to me, for life."

It's that last verse that the English version just wouldn't be able to capture. The translated version of that verse is about angels and love songs and mentions nothing of a vow to love one another for life.

That's what's so special to me about the French version of the song being used in that moment. Edith Piaf sings as a person who has lived through so much pain and suffering (which she definitely did as a French woman living through World War II) and finally finds comfort and peace in the arms of her beloved.

That is ultimately what Ed and Stede are for one another. Safe harbors, calm waters, peaceful days and nights in each other's presence. They bicker and argue and hurt one another, but they always come back together so easily. Stede was hurt and needed reassurance, needed to prove to himself that he wasn't a whim, needed to feel the security of Ed in his arms. And perhaps they shouldn't have gone all the way that night, but they're both impulsive and obsessed with each other and they needed something.

It's that song that lets me know they're gonna be okay. They're intense and impulsive but they compliment each other. They fit together perfectly, and they find comfort in one another no matter what's happened to them in the past. They need their harbors, their anchors, each other. They'd never leave each other behind. They make each other's lives la vie en rose.

[gwydionmisha]

The Perils of Translation: The Law According to Lidia Poët/La legge di Lidia Poët

I have Netflix access again. I have watched very few things in the last two years, so if you have a recommendation, feel free to suggest.

In related news I was watching the second season of The Law According to Lidia Poët/La legge di Lidia Poët and realized at some point they weren't translating a certain curse word. The reason I hadn't noticed was 1. It's pretty clearly the Italian version of my late father's favorite curse word to yell at people in traffic. it sounded so much like the French version I didn't notice when 2. The subtitles included it in Italian.

Once I did finally notice it had been going on like this for… idk. I didn't bother checking 1st season and it was pretty late in second season. I clocked multiple instances when I did notice it.

At first I thought, "Are they Bowdlerizing this?" But usually when they Bowdlerize subtitles or close captioning, they replace the word with things like "darn" or find a way to leave it out. which is infuriating, but also occasionally accidentally funny. (I went to see La Vie en Rose in the local art cinema when it first came out and laughed my ass off because they had the notoriously foul mouthed Edith Piaf saying gosh and darn when that was absolutely not what she was saying and the juxtaposition was hilarious. I got a lot of weird looks. Apparently I was the only one in the theater who knew French profanity).

Then I thought about the word itself. I don't speak Italian, but given the givens such as context, delivery, etc. I'm betting it has the same meaning. If it does, then that might have created a serious dilemma for the translators. If you do a literal translation it carries a completely different weight in English and would definitely distort the meaning that it would have conveyed in French and I'm betting the same in Italian. If you translate it based on how people use it and look for an English language curse word with similar cultural weight and usage, you need to leave direct translation behind.

What you want here is a beautifully dressed (seriously the costuming for men and women in this thing is so, so good), properly brought up upper middle class woman of the late 19th century saying a word that men were only supposed to say and never in front of ladies. If this were the 19th century, the idiomatic choice might be "Fuck!" because the literal translation is right out. Except Americans of all ages and genders say "Fuck" now. Literal translation is still way too strong in English and distorts meaning because we don't use that word as an expletive, but as a gendered insult. Most everything else I can think of like, say "damnit" isn't strong and shocking enough or has other problems. For example "Motherfucker" would shock you right out of period, by sounding to modern. "Son of a Bitch," maybe? Idk. "Fuck" might still be your best choice.

So I'm thinking they kept the word in Italian as her tone and performance carry it well enough, though not quite the level of period cultural meaning to an English ear.

Translation is hard, fam.

I am just really excited they are getting a third season.

[thefandomdirtymind]

Stand by Me

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Soundtrack : Stand by me - Ben E. King

Hymne a l'amour - French Version by Josh Groban

Hymn to love - Edith Piaf

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon 

A/N : I had this idea stuck in my head for a while. Big shoutout to @alienstardustwrites for heard me complain about my cringe ideas and vocabulary struggle when helping me with my romantic vision.

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

---

It was a really calm night on the Merry Going. 

Most of the crew was already asleep, even Usopp who’s, in the nest, was on vigilance duty. In the kitchen, you were lazily washing the dishes as Sanji was doing his prep for the next day. He had ,of course, insisted that doing both wasn’t bothered him and that you should go rest like the others, but you had assured him that you weren’t tired and preferred helping him than counting sheeps or worse fixing the ceiling. 

It was then in a comfortable silence that you both focused on your work, enjoying each other's presence. 

The calm atmosphere, only broken by the repetitive chopping sound and often clicking of plates against each other was in fact so peaceful that you at first thought you were mistaken. But, as you passed behind Sanji, you heard it again, faint but still melodious. 

The blond cook was singing under his breath. You recognized, by the few words you could hear, the ballad the musician was playing at your last, well deserved, night of fun.

The place was crowded, either by drunk sailors or couples, as much intoxicated as the previous, slowly dancing to the music. You remembered Sanji being particularly flirty that night, except for when that song had come. Multiple times, you had seen him reach for you before retreating himself or just brushing your question away. 

“ It’s nothing, love “ 

Had been the only answer you had for his momentary strange behavior. 

But here, in the tranquility of his own kitchen, you couldn’t help yourself to be amused by the tall man.         

Slowly, drying the plate in your hand, you softly join your voice with him, trying to not lose the tempo as you see the tips of his ears turn an interesting shade of red.

“ I’m sorry, I didn’t know you could hear me “ Sanji apologies. 

“Why are you sorry ? That’s okay Sanj, you can enjoy a song you know. And you were singing it pretty well. It’s the song the musician played last time right ? ”  

“ Thank you darling, yes it is. I have it stuck in my head for a while now…” He said, putting aside his vegetable prep and salted meat. “ In fact, that night, I was...I was trying to invite you to dance but I didn’t...I didn’t want to share that moment with the others.” He softly confessed. 

You could perfectly understand. As much as you love Luffy and the others, being with them all the time has only left you really few moments of privacy. And you knew that , even if Sanji and you didn’t really hide your attraction for each other, flirting as much as you can without crossing a certain line, you knew that you would have heard jokes and other childish reactions for weeks.  

Putting down your dishcloth, resolute, you slowly crossed the distance between you and the best cook of the east blue. 

“  Sanji,the night is calm, everyone is asleep, can I invite you to dance ? “ You gently asked. 

“ We don’t have any music “ He softly smiled. 

“ Then sing for me “ You replied,as your hands slowly slid up on his chest before locking themselves behind his neck. 

His smile could have illuminated the sky if the moon wasn’t so jealousy guarding his spot. Placing one of his strong hands on your waist before enveloping one of your hands in his, he slowly closed the gap between your two bodies.  

“ As you wish, Coeur en sucre“ Sanji answered. * Heart of sugar/Sweetheart

Softly starting to hum the instrumental part, adjusting his head above yours. He gradually drives you in a slow movement, keeping you firmly against him, his warm chest solid under your cheek.  

As you were both swaying in the night and he was singing in your ears how he wanted you to stay by his side, making you often gently twirl, before welcoming you back in your warm bubble. Sanji reaches the end of the song, but never stops the move, letting your two heartbeats become the tempo, wishing to keep you for him a little longer, even if it is just for a moment. 

Your flirtation with Sanji has always been fun, light and cautious. But, as you lifted your head off his shoulder, your lips brushing against each other, starting their own long dance of waiting and hesitation, you knew it was inevitable as your gaze got lost on each other.

Lightly his soft lips took possession of yours,making it seem  like time itself stopped, letting you enjoy in peace the sweetness of his kiss. Returning for more,his hand cupping the side of your face, passion diffusing itself little by little like a good liquor, kiss by kiss, you softly smile against his mouth. 

“ I think we have definitely crossed the line “ You joked, before stealing another kiss.

“ I think I had crossed that line the first day I saw you, “ Sanji confessed, his thumb caressing your cheek. “ You’re so perfect, I knew in a minute I had to make you mine “ 

“ Then, thank you for waiting for me.” You replied, leaving a long kiss on his lips before putting your head back at his place on his shoulder. “ Sanji, can you sing for me again please ? I don’t want the moment to end” 

“ Me neither mon ange” He answered, his arms tighten around your waist. 

As he intoned the debut of a french song about a hymn to love, your bodies moving in harmony, you knew you would have given everything to stay like this forever.

Song : (French ) ( English )

---

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[inthiseverymoment]

silhouettes emerging: chapter vii

"the Moth, Frozen in Amber"

a hunt, an exchange, a continuation, and an outburst

iwtv oc x armand, this chapter ~1.8k

as the kids say, WE'RE SO BACK

can you tell that i'm already having A Time this semester

and yes she was besties with edith piaf bc It's My Historical Reader Insert and I Can Do What I Want

anyway WHOO this one was very cathartic to write. hope yall enjoy, lmk what you think

chapter vi fic masterlist chapter viii

“Getting lunch”, as suggested, was not as fantastical a concept to this unlikely pair as it would be to many others of their kind. Being fledglings of an ancient vampire, they stalked the gloomy New York afternoon-with Daniel staying more in the shade, his inherited powers having had less time to mature than Isabelle’s-and searched.

This search came to a delightfully obvious end when they passed a thoroughly isolated alleyway, graced with the vape-flavored sight of a posse of college-age boys in polo shirts and unfortunately lettered red baseball caps.

Isabelle bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning and turned to Daniel, finding a wicked glint under his dark sunglasses. With a nod and a saunter, the actress and the journalist shared a feast and cleaned up the evidence, keeping leftovers to last long past the interview.

Twenty Twenty-Three (The Next Hour), New York City, United States of America

Satisfied with their meal, sickened by the memories of privilege and unearned arrogance they’d taken in through the blood of the young men, and both now a little bit high on flavored nicotine, they wound through the streets back to Daniel’s apartment. As they walked, he told her the parts of his story not granted to human eyes, as well as what had happened after; Armand’s machinations, the now-grown “fascinating boy”’s own turning, and most of what he’d learned to have happened decades earlier (though not all, she could tell, and fully understood why). Isabelle had had no idea upon first reading the book that her existence would have so many similarities to that of this entirely jaded man, who had of course felt exactly the same about this conscientiously skewed “young” woman; they realized now that their experiences held so much in common that the differences in those placed demeanors faded, leaving an odd sort of knowing despite their very short acquaintance.

“I guess I just thought,” Daniel was half-laughing in a last shot at nonchalant bitterness, “I thought I was the first. That’s all.”

“No, I get it,” she responded. Turning to study his face, her voice took on a bit of teasing incredulity: “Is that…could it possibly be…a bit of vulnerability from the great Daniel Molloy?”

“Don’t start,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses. “I’m the one interviewing you, not the other way around. This just changes a lot.”

She nodded solemnly, and he dug into his jacket pocket for his phone, pressing record despite every bell and whistle being back at the apartment.

“We’re back post-midday-draining with the vampire-”

“Isabelle de la Rue.”

“-and I want to know whether things felt the same for you as they did for me. You’re a vampire now, you’re part of the coven, he doesn’t have dominion over your mind anymore but you’ve essentially given into that life. How did things go after that turning point?”

“...Turning point?”

“Let it be stated on the record that I did not attempt a pun.”

“Let it be stated on the record that it was definitely received as such,” she replied. “But, yeah, it was…as you said, it was a sense of letting oneself be swept up in a new life. I had been so focused on the fact that Armand couldn’t physically get into my mind anymore that I forgot about every other-more human-emotional tie.”

“That fucked-up blur between supernatural manipulation and genuine…”

He stopped, fiddling with his key and pretending that was the reason he’d trailed off.

“Love,” she finished, looking at Daniel as they reentered his apartment. “That’s the word you’re looking for.”

“Sure,” he coughed, a thousand recently-revealed memories passing across his eyes.

“And, yeah, precisely. I found that I just…well, after being turned, I felt that I needed him more than ever. After a lifetime of being tossed to the side and swearing that I’d wait for the right person, a lifetime of scrambling for control over my own life, this sudden onslaught of being entirely and straightforwardly wanted for the first time knocked me out; I fully let go after that first taste of his blood, and everything rational was just…gone. Honestly, nearly everything before I had stepped into the Théâtre was gone; not by the work of the Mind Gift, just by the overwhelming newness of vampiric existence-of vampiric existence as his companion. Now, whenever there was somewhere to go, there was somebody beautiful waiting for me just outside the door. Now, when I absentmindedly hummed a bit of an old duet, someone would complete the phrase. Now there was finally someone who wanted to understand all of my depths and flaws, who didn’t shun them away or pretend not to see them but instead viewed them as natural and even admirable. We had both come from this sort of rigidity and exploitative background-his far, far worse than mine, of course-and we each found this wonderful sort of release in the other. We’d stay up hours into the night and day, and talk and talk and talk-”

“And only talk?” came the interruption of her near-rapturous repetition.

“Oh, of course not,” Isabelle said once she’d recovered from the memory, “but you didn’t want to hear about that.”

She was quiet for a moment, one finger circling a small threadbare spot in the armchair she’d now grown quite familiar with.

“‘For the first time in my life, I was seen.’ That’s what Louis told you, and that is how it was for me. When I read that phrase in your book…I lost my breath all over again.”

The journalist nodded as he finished connecting his phone back to the laptop and microphone.

Nothing more needed explanation.

Daniel already knew.

“So,” he said after a while, “when did things change? When did you come to the thought that you needed to go?”

“Part of it was because of Édith. Armand always seemed to come up with more rehearsals and group hunts during the times when we’d try to get together; eventually, I confronted him about it. He said that, since I had chosen this life, asked to become his despite his doubts, that I needed to give up every outward tie to humanity. I pointed out that that humanity was what drew him to me in the first place-the same way it was with you-and by the way he reacted, it seemed that he simply wanted it all to himself. I missed her. The last time I managed to see her, it was even more difficult to do so, because she was becoming truly famous.”

“Wait,” Daniel said, “...that Édith?”

Slowly, Isabelle nodded, looking to him with a slight smile.

“That Édith. My Édith. You know how the nightclub owner who discovered her died, the mobsters she had some associations with, the accusations that almost destroyed her career?”

“I have to say I’m not as brushed up on the history of French popular song as I guess I should have been, but I’ve heard of that, yes.”

“The murder was Armand’s doing. A warning, I think, that he could make my friends suffer if they kept me from him for too long.”

“Red flag number…we’ve lost count now.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Molloy.”

“But Mademoiselle Piaf clearly got back on her feet.”

“At least we got a proper goodbye.”

“When you left?”

“When I…tried. That was the first time. Captain of the ship got ‘rest’-ed into never leaving the dock. I think, on some level, Armand knew that playing any power card wouldn’t get me to want to stay, so he ran up that ramp in a billowing trench coat like some hero of an old film, wrapped me up into his arms, and said that he’d heard the waters that week were far too treacherous for a ‘visit home’. I knew I didn’t believe him, but he held me so tightly, so-so tenderly, whispering over and over that he couldn’t lose me…”

“So his tears worked better than the Mind Gift ever could.”

“...Yes.”

“Christ, Isabelle, he was never afraid of losing his power over you because he knew he already had it. Armand didn’t even need access to your memories-”

“I know-”

“-you were just so in love that he could easily,” Daniel bulldozed, “like any mortal, play your heartstrings like that fucking violin you always talked about-”

“I know!”

After the days of quips and tearful recollections, this was indeed a shout. She slammed her hands onto the arms of the chair, and every light in the room flickered.

Daniel was silent.

“I’m not proud of it,” Isabelle eventually said, cold and hard and finally loud. “I am fully aware that I spent my whole life terrified of being controlled only to wind up under the spell of the first dark-curled, smooth-voiced soul to actually look my way for once. I am fully aware that I saw everything and allowed love to blind me anyway. I thought we could figure it all out and grow together-it had truly seemed, for a while, like we were. I was young, I was tired of waiting, and I felt that those twenty-two years spent waiting were longer than any possible eternity. I wanted to be desired, chased, caught, cherished, held-I wanted him. Surrounded by this mockery of the life I have always longed for, this place where self-titled artists postured in their little cliques and prided themselves on their shallow works while ignoring the hundreds of bodies being dragged across the floor, I thought that that was all I was ever going to get.”

Her ragged breath had climaxed into sobs now, without a single speck of the demure camera-worthiness of her previous tears. These last words hanging in the air, Isabelle stared daggers at Daniel, the golden circles at the center of her glowing hazel eyes now alight with the same fire that Louis had burned the Théâtre with only a few years after she’d gone.

This was the desperation of the vampire Isabelle de la Rue,

and the desperation of the young mortal Bella Ditell,

all wrapped up into one bleeding watercolor quilt of a woman.

“I was swept away again,” she choked out, catching her breath. “I let him take me back to the Théâtre, swooned into him when he put La Bohème on his phonograph, and relished in every physical reminder that this glorious, terrible, deeply complex and surely divine being could not bear the thought that I would leave him. I committed it all to memory-the dizzying warmth of Armand’s bare chest against mine, my hand moving up his thigh and his tangling in my hair as he ripped out every bobby pin I’d placed for easy travel, the way the taste of his blood was now tinged with something like bitter wine. His grip was rougher now, but I didn’t care…”

Her breath having nearly returned to steadiness, Isabelle winced at one more admission.

“I didn’t notice the pain, because it fit so well with the music.”

[venusdoeswriting]

snippet of something im working on

"When James was a little boy, the night was his least favorite part of the day. He always felt as though there was more to do, more to see. Also, he always had so much energy that he couldn’t sleep. He would lay awake for hours, praying that sleep would embrace him, and yet it rarely came. 

As he got older, he grew more neutral towards sleep. He didn’t mind it as much, and his parents helped to calm his mind with various potions. Until he met Sirius. And suddenly, he hated sleeping once again. The two boys would stay awake talking for hours about everything and nothing at the same time. And suddenly, the only times James could sleep was when Sirius was laying next to him, hand in hand. 

As time went on, and Sirius taught him more about the stars, he grew to love the night, craving its chilly embrace everyday. Some nights, he spent with Sirius. Other nights, he spent sitting in the astronomy tower awake looking at the stars. Because of this he rarely slept. There was always more to do.

One particularly cold night in the astronomy tower, James met a star. He was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. With eyes of storms and lips of lust, he was everything James could want. He was fiery and temperamental and yet still caring and gentle. He loved fine art and the color green and Edith Piaf and sunsets and jewelry and Shakespeare’s tragedies and Greek mythology and pine trees and winter. He always wore robes a size too big because he thought they looked more regal. He loved reading new books and then telling James all about them, and when he felt passionately enough, sometimes he even let his guard down just enough to smile and laugh.

As the two grew closer, James began to spend more and more of his time up in the Astronomy Tower, laughing and crying and everything in between. All with his star."

okay guys, what do we think? should i continue with it, and if so, should i post it to my ao3? lmk <3

[winternet-s]

𝐋𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐄 - g. satoru

summary : after a rough day your friends encouraged you to go to the festival of the village, the moment of dance came into the frame, and by changing partners destiny gave you that one brown-haired man.

notes : it is inspired by the song "La Foule" by Edith Piaf if you understand the lyrics then 🫶🏿 there's a translation online for the ppl who do not understand French!

──── After an especially grueling day, your friends insisted on dragging you to the village festival to lift your spirits. The vibrant atmosphere was filled with colorful lanterns, laughter, and the enticing aroma of food stalls. Despite your initial reluctance, the infectious energy began to seep into your mood, lightening the weight of your earlier troubles.

"Come on, you'll have fun," your best friend nudged you playfully. "You need this."

With a reluctant smile, you allowed yourself to be pulled along. As evening fell, the band struck up a lively tune, signaling the start of the traditional village dance. People gathered in a large circle, and your friends eagerly pushed you towards the center.

"Go on, it'll be fun!" they encouraged.

The dance was a flurry of movement, partners changing every few steps. You were twirled and spun, laughter bubbling up despite yourself. Then, as if by some twist of fate, you found yourself face-to-face with a man who stood out even in the bustling crowd. He had tousled brown hair and striking blue eyes that seemed to twinkle with a hint of mischief. His presence was magnetic, and you couldn't look away.

"Hello there," he said with a charming smile. "Care to dance?"

Before you could respond, his hand found yours effortlessly, and you were drawn into the rhythm of the dance. His lead was confident and smooth, making you feel as if you were gliding. The world around you seemed to blur, leaving only the music and the two of you.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

"(Y/N)," you replied, breathless. "And you?"

"Satoru," he said, his smile widening. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

As the music played on, you lost yourself in the dance. Each step felt synchronized, as if you had danced together countless times before. The crowd around you faded, and for a few magical moments, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

"So, (Y/N)," Satoru said, spinning you around gracefully, "what brings you to the festival tonight?"

"My friends dragged me here," you admitted with a laugh. "I had a rough day, and they thought this would cheer me up."

"Looks like they were right," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "I can't remember the last time I had this much fun." The music reached its crescendo, and Satoru pulled you close for a final spin. As the dance ended, you found yourself inches from him, your breath mingling in the cool night air.

"Thank you for the dance," he murmured, his voice soft. "I don't think I've ever enjoyed a festival as much as tonight."

"Me neither," you said, your heart pounding. "This was...unexpected."

"Unexpected, but wonderful," Satoru agreed, his smile turning a bit more serious. "Would you like to walk around with me? There's still so much to see." You nodded, and the two of you wandered through the festival, talking and laughing as if you had known each other forever. Satoru was charming and funny, and you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn't expected.

"Tell me about your rough day," he said at one point, his tone gentle. You hesitated, then shrugged. "Just work stuff. Nothing I couldn't handle, but it was one thing after another. I was pretty down before coming here."

"Well, I'm glad you came," Satoru said. "It's funny how a random encounter can change your whole day, isn't it?"

"Yeah," you agreed, smiling up at him. "It really is." As the night grew late, the festival began to wind down. Your friends found you, their eyes widening in surprise when they saw you with Satoru.

"Looks like someone had a good time," one of them teased.

Satoru chuckled. "I'd say so. It was a pleasure meeting you, (Y/N). I hope we can do this again sometime."

"Me too," you said, feeling a flutter of excitement.

With a gentle kiss on your hand, Satoru bid you goodnight, disappearing into the crowd. As you walked home with your friends, you couldn't help but feel that destiny had played a hand in bringing you and Satoru together. The village festival, with its lights and music, had become the backdrop for the beginning of something extraordinary.

"Do you think you'll see him again?" your friend asked as you walked home.

"I hope so," you said, smiling at the memory of his smile. "I really hope so."

The rough day that had begun so bleakly had ended in a way you could never have imagined. And as you lay in bed that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

winnie's notes : it's been a WHILE yeah but here a mini one shot for you guys simple and cute !

[storkmuffin]

So @awooooooooooo asked me if some of the condescending and veiled racist attacks on Korean sasaeng etc affect how you interact with other fans or how you feel about kpop as a cultural export? Does the fan culture feel very different within and outside of Korea to you?

Generally, I'm extremely pleased that foreigners like Kpop as much as they do, because I assume that it has the same effect on them as, say, me really liking Edith Piaf and Charlotte Gainsbourg has on me about the French - it makes me like the culture, and feel friendly towards the people of France, and interested, in a diluted but benign way, in the well being of French people. I adore that kpop makes people learn 한글, and sound out Korean words.

Fan culture both does and does not feel different inside and outside Korea, but of course, I've only seen footage of any of this. Western concerts seem to have a more 'free' energy than Korean ones, where everyone sits very orderly with their shiny bulb wand things and chant like well trained cheerleaders like the band told them to, I guess, but overall? The people who get parasocial seem to be the same kind of parasocial. The people who want to write RPF write RPF. The ones who really want one on one face time with the members will spend the money and enter the lottery and get that thrill.

The thing that I've found regrettable is that some Western people who are uninformed about Korean culture have managed nevertheless to absorb Korean misogyny and heap it on Korean women they decide to disapprove of, this time in English, and talk shit about Korean women amongst themselves. I find this painful.

Incredibly long essay you are not at all obligated to read follows, because I needed to let my thoughts out.

One of the first things that caught my attention about kpop in 2024 was hearing on the news that SM, the entertainment company, had been sent 1,000 funeral wreaths to be placed outside their HQ, because fans of some group really hated the idea of a member who had been 'suspended' for some sort of infraction coming back to work again with that group. The group was Riize, who I'd never heard of, and the boy was Seung Han, who I have never heard sing but now I know his face. The infraction was that photos he'd taken while cuddling a girlfriend in bed had leaked. In the end, they rescinded his membership in Riize.

Because I clicked on that youtube news clip, the algorithm lead me to a bunch of white people screeching about how 사생 (which all of them pronounced this word every which way so I had a hard time figuring out wtf they were saying, because 사생 is a very Idol fandom culture specific neologism rather than an actual Korean word in common usage) were all pathetic crazy bitches, and why can't these Korean fans let Idols have normal lives and have romantic partners and it's so parasocial and ridiculous and just ... heaping contempt.

But that perspective is fundamentally blind to the actual exchange that's going on between Idol and Fan. Idols are not just selling music and dancing and performances. They're selling you a fantasy of availability. And the revulsion that the most devoted/ obsessed/ unhinged (take your pick) Korean fans express when they learn that their Idol has a girlfriend actually comes from a place of deep propriety and extreme commitment to respecting the boundaries in monogamy. To summarize: It is wrong to even have sexual fantasies in the privacy of your head about someone else's partner. So if someone wants to be a sex symbol, and trust me, most Idols do, then they can't make their relationship public, because Korean propriety demands that any decent person stop thinking about a partnered person as sexual. You can't go to a concert of a partnered up boy and scream when he shows you his abs. You can't go to a fan meeting and ask that he hold hands with you if he has a girlfriend. It's just WRONG. Idols are dead to the Fan once they actually have a romantic partner, because that's what a decent Korean woman is supposed to do - kill inappropriate feelings.

And the Idols know this. Which is why they hide their relationships like they're state secrets, or don't have them at all. Everyone sensible assumes that the former is more common than the latter, and honestly all that most fans ask of Idols is that they not breach that boundary.

The sanctimonious glee that some of these commentator youtube people exhibited in excoriating a subset of Korean women that I essentially see as misguided and frustrated, without attempting to understand what is going on, in defense of a professionally attractive man who was set to give them entertainment thrills was very ugly. It felt a bit like someone really liking the concierge at the luxury hotel they were staying at in a foreign country, but hating the rest of the people who live in that country that don't serve to make their vacation fun.

I also need to point out that Idols' activities in Korea are all engineered to create this feeling of a romantic connection with the Fan. I learned about this literally yesterday but apparently Ateez had a fan cafe set up last year, where you could go to a photo booth that generated a series of sticker photos that looked for all the world like you took a couple's shot with each of the members as long as you placed yourself correctly within the pre-set photo design. Do you see how this might be not a great thing to make available, but also why it would be so tempting? The either actually crazy or crazy seeming women are not generating this deranged energy all on their own, is my point.

Did I think the funeral wreath thing was a healthy and kind thing to do to Senghan, formerly of Riize? No. But did Seunghan break the sacrosanct rules of his profession? Yes. Do Korean women absolutely hate it when men break rules and norms? Yes. Do they have any real avenue to express that in a way that can change reality in a larger arena of their lives? Not really.

Was the whole funeral wreath sending action simply some crazy bitches who want to fuck this boy Idol being furious that he's never going to fuck them? No, it wasn't. That's too direct, sexually open, crude and explicit. It's a very Western way to think. What Korean stans want is for the Idol to fulfill his function as an Idol - to be an object of adoration, who can be the (almost blank) receptacle for her feelings.

And one final point: Is openly sneering at women about some handsome guy who is bound to be sexually repelled by them misogyny? YES IT IS.

[sgiandubh]

Little sparrow

One tiny thing went, I think, totally under the radar in that morning story that swept the fandom from Paris to Vegas and back.

This (with credit and thanks given to @margareth-lv, who captured the reference in her screenshot: my laptop is not that intelligent):

Famously sung by Edith Piaf, you couldn't imagine something more endearingly cliché, when it comes to immediately suggest being in the City of Love - ooh là, là, Paris (and then some more, as rightfully pointed out by other fandom historians and archivists).

La vie en rose (Life in Pink - nope, you can't be more cheesy, I am afraid) is iconic for a reason. It speaks about attraction (yes, that attraction), about whispering sweet nothings, about giving in but not quite yet. But then everything suddenly makes sense and things are being said and sworn, for life.

This is, in fact, a very serious song about a love covenant of sorts. But then, many French things look damn light, but are dead serious.

I know it by heart, of course, and if drunk enough (almost never) and prompted (almost always), I can deliver a decent version. But for the sake of science, I wanted to hear Emily Watts' version (by now, if you follow my #sundaysounds, you know how impossibly exacting I am).

I imagined it as a clean, nice and pretty version, not unlike what Emily in Paris is to... well.... Sgian-dubh in Paris, for example 🙃. And I wasn't disappointed: it's light, it's unbearably tidy and it totally lacks Little Sparrow's (piaf means 'little sparrow', in French, btw) canaille erotic tension (for a comparison, if you feel brave: https://youtu.be/sKJ9bvdgNvk?si=zPs2H1vTCJm6Ilum):

No terribly plucked eyebrows and no lipstick overdose, here. Everything is impeccable and very, very, tame, in a non-existent Parisian summer afternoon, where the Seine never stinks and all the parks are carefully propped for the right artistic impression. Well, then - must be some random choice, I told to myself.

And then, I saw this:

And, being deranged, I immediately thought of this:

Forget me not.

For all of you who get my gist and perhaps even for Those Two, wherever they might be, I raise you one true Little Sparrow:

And for once, don't ask me to translate the lyrics, please.

This is Paris, fandom. And let it be my mistake and my sin, then, if I am proven wrong (I won't). I don't really care.

[eldraftsman]

hi~ how about sylvia and/or fiona for the supercool headcanons meme? ^^

Thank you! I'm gonna go with Sylvia, both because I like her character more... and the last question can have a non embarassing answer (we all know what Fiona would sketch)

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod Probably anything by Edith Piaf. Some of the songs may be a little naif to her after the war, but she likes her very emotional voice.

the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep – where they’re not supposed to The couch, whenever she's at home. She probalby doozed off once at WISE's headquarters and made Twilight swear he wouldn't tell a soul, else he would make a less compelling Romeo.

the game they'd destroy everyone else at Poker, easily. Even Twilight's excellent acting is no match for her.

the emoticon they’d use most often Probably (ㆆ_ㆆ) . She's not too fond of emoticons but she's also a WISE agent that has to wrangle the whole bunch of weirdoes under her command so she can truly relate to it on a level she couldn't expect. People at the Embassy would find it endearing.

what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep Have you seen the life of a spy? I'd wager that's her usual mood. I'll flip the question around and say she's cheerier when she actually gets proper sleep.

their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever. I'm gonna say she likes her a good coffee (secretly, she enjoys mocha)

how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump Probably a bubble bath? More for the water than the bubbles really, she can submerge her head and drown the outside noise. That, or for once her cover up rings true and she likes to swim at Berlint's public pool.

what they wanted to be when they grew up Probably a business manager. When she still had a family she had a bakery with her husband where he did the pastries and she ran the finances.

their favorite kind of weather Windy autumn days. Simple as it may be there's something pretty to her about the leaves dancing in the wind.

thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?) She's a little tone deaf. Most likely has managed to train and clean her voice up for her espionage work in the past, but should she sing for her own amusement in her spare time her voice would crack.

how/what they like to draw or doodle Labrynth like abstract shapes. You know the ones

[fuckyeahizzyhands]

We said goodbye to Izzy this season. What was your initial reaction to learning his fate, and how did you prepare for his death?

Con O’Neill: You know what, I’ve been around a long time, and going through those first few scripts and seeing which way the arc was going, it didn’t surprise me. I was upset because I loved playing him, but at the same time, I think David knows what he’s doing, and we are all here because of David Jenkins, first and foremost. So I got it. I made him pay for dinner, but I got it nonetheless. And then it was just a matter of honoring what they’d written. And they kept surprising me every episode. He kept giving me stuff that took my breath away and challenged me enormously. And yeah, if you’re going to go out, go out like that.

What message would you want to share with fans who are still struggling with Izzy’s loss?

That’s a big ask, isn’t it? I would say that I have nothing but love, respect, and faith in David Jenkins. Trust him. He knows what he’s doing. None of this was taken lightly. Trust David Jenkins.

When you were preparing for Izzy’s ending, which scene felt like a bigger send-off — that epic monologue delivered to Ricky or his final words to Ed aboard the Revenge?

I remember the day we filmed what turned out to be a eulogy… We shot it several times, and then Fernando [Frias], who was directing that episode, suggested we do one more take and to “let the guard down,” was his phrase. And I didn’t know the guard was up, but that’s the take they used. And there’s an ad-lib in that take as well, which I won’t tell you what it is, which one it is. But I thought the profound moment would be the death. I didn’t understand at the time that the profound moment was the speech. I knew the speech was brilliant. I knew they’d written something extraordinary. Because they played with the narrative a bit in the edit, I didn’t know where it was going to play fundamentally in the final edit. But yeah, it’s basically written and Fernando gave me the key to get where we went to. So thank you, Fernando.

You mention ad-libbing. Was there any scene or moment you got to improvise or enjoyed improvising this season?

I can’t remember. There was a lot this season. That one in the eulogy speech is because I see it being played everywhere all the time at the moment. So I hear that a lot. There was a lot more understanding of character in this season. Ninety-nine percent of ad-libs don’t get in. The thing that’s not often discussed about our show is it’s f**king beautifully written. And we do a lot of takes, and as long as we get what is written down before we do any other playing around, then we’ve done our job because our writers are exceptional. And the joy as an actor — I’m a theater actor from way back — is when you see some of this writing. It’s just brilliant.

You talk about being a theater performer. Were you thrilled to take on Izzy’s musical moment in drag? I was told you learned the French version and English version of “La Vie En Rose” for the episode.

I’d love to say I taught myself, but no, I don’t speak French at all to my shame, but my partner does, and I have a friend called Jenna Russell, who’s just played Edith Piaf in the West End. So between the two of them, they taught me how to [sing the song in French]. And it was just excruciating for both of them… how I bastardized the French language. And bless him, Samba [Schutte] as well was even there when we were doing the lip sync to the recording. Samba was kneeling down, out the shot telling me if my mouth was doing the wrong shape for some of [it]. I mean, it was that extreme, but we got there by the skin of our teeth. But it’s funny if you’d asked me for a song for Izzy, I would never in a million years have thought of “La Vie En Rose.” Now I couldn’t think of any song that suits him better.

What was the process like getting to find Izzy’s drag look? Because it doesn’t feel like he’s embodying a character, but rather an extension of himself.

Quite a lot, to be honest. Nancy [Hennah] first talked to me about it. The drag was on, it was off, it was on, it was off, it was on. It was off. And then when we got close to filming, the drag was on again, and I just didn’t want it to be a comedy. Not that she ever suggested it was, but there were versions of the ideas for the drag which were so extreme that it felt like a parody. And I didn’t want it to be a parody.

Here’s an exclusive for you. When Kristian [Nairn] and I shot the scene where I discovered Wee John doing his makeup, there was one take of the scene where we ended up looking in the mirror together, and I heard myself say, “Make me pretty.” And as gentle as that sounds, it had a profound effect on me because I suddenly realized that that part in [Izzy] that had never been announced before was wanting to announce himself and to be pretty while he was doing it.

And that became really important to me when we were designing the look. And between Nancy, our brilliant makeup designer, and Deb [Watson], my makeup artist, they came up with that look, which I think really honors Izzy as a character, but also made him pretty. It had a profound effect on me when I had myself say those words. I think it’s probably the first time Izzy has ever said the word pretty — and it was about himself. I mean, how lovely is that?

Izzy went through another transformation earlier this season with his peg leg. Was becoming the new “unicorn” of the Revenge vital for his character development this season?

Yeah, I’ve been thinking about this a lot today because I’ve been asked various questions around this theme. And what I think is lovely about Izzy’s arc or Izzy’s redemption is we don’t change who he was. It’s a version of who he was, who is now feeling gratitude and acceptance. And we can talk about the closet, whether it’s an emotional closet or a sexual closet. He comes out of the closet this season, figuratively and visibly, and every queer person has that story. They’re all different versions of the story, but the relief of the coming out process, it’s life-changing. That’s what Izzy does in this season, is he comes out and it’s had a profound effect on the audience. So many of them have already themselves or want to, or need to, and they let him, our writers let him. It’s lovely.

David had said following the finale that there’s no Our Flag Means Death without Izzy. Would you come back for a third season if asked? After all, this is the kind of show where a character can turn into a seagull, so surely there’s room for a ghost.

That’s a conversation you have to have with David. David is the boss on all of this, and I know David always wanted a Season 3. I would be heartbroken for the show if he didn’t get a Season 3 because it deserves it. It’s an important show. If Izzy’s involved, and if he isn’t, I still think it’s a really important show and it should be given its send-off season.

On a more light-hearted final note, we got to see Izzy interact more with Stede as a mentor. What was it like getting to build that dynamic with Rhys in Season 2?

I loved it. Do you know what? Rhys was brilliant in the first season, but in the second season, he just found some extra confidence and he really stepped up. He’s f**king brilliant in the second season, and working with him on those scenes, it was a joy. It was an absolute joy because he’s f**king landed so beautifully. And to be present with him in his newfound faith and confidence… it was joyful, and I think he’s awesome.

[knitnightstudio]

Ed's emerald ring, a love story

2x6

We barely see the Emerald ring this episode. We see it for a split second when Ed is talking to the kids (when the crew isn't around) and then the only other time we see it is when Stede and Ed are alone in Stede's quarters.

But boy oh boy, does that ring beam when Ed and Stede are making out. I took so many pictures because it was nearly impossible to capture it's sparkle. I highly recommend rewatching that scene (for science!) and watch the ring. It shouldn't be as visible as it is.

The room is so dark. It would have been easy to just not see the emerald ring at all, but to my untrained eye it looks like they took extra care to light the ring so it shined. I'd love to hear from someone who actually knows about lighting design who would corroborate.

I've been reading a lot of @follows-the-bees posts (by a lot i mean all of them), I highly highly highly recommend them and i'd be fascinated to learn what they thought about this lighting.

I'm not even going to start trying to dive into the La Vie En Rose analysis because there has been SO much good stuff written. I dare you to read this without tearing up:

by @a-l-o-n-e-t-o-g-e-t-h-e-r

[sparks-polls]

Tumblr's Favourite Sparks Music Video - The Finale

We have our finalists! Congratulations, When Do I Get To Sing "My Way" and I Predict!

When Do I Get To Sing "My Way"

Defeated opponents: Edith Piaf (Said It Better Than Me), (When I Kiss You) I Hear Charlie Parker Playing, Music That You Can Dance To, Funny Face, Call Girl

What people have said about this video: #my way hands down #for the whole story #also have you seen russell in that one? #i picked my way specifically because of russell in that video #it's gotta be my way. the drama and the story and the atmosphere is just so good #they're so classy in it - A+ looks and concept. and I love the whole idea of advertising a movie #I need my brothers torn apart by ambition #when do i get to sing my way (the video) inspired me to write a whole-ass novel #i'm happy as long as my way goes through #i voted my way. against this kind of opponent hardly anything stands a chance #my way takes it all #this isn't even a competition #another masterpiece of a video #the story & storytelling & all 3 of them looking amazing in black and white with that lighting #Ron glaring jealously from behind the curtains!!! #THERE'S ONLY ONE SONG I KNOW (iconic!) + RON DANCE (in colour for he gets to sing his way hell yeah) #Russell's smiles #old hollywood drama & the way the texts are displayed (excellent concept) #russell's model turn in my way for president #DO TWO BROTHERS TORN APART BY AMBITION MEAN NOTHING TO YOU? #the gorgeous old hollywood film that is my way is so important and special to me #it's got to be My Way for me - out of the videos left that is my champion <3 #i think my way deserves to win this contest overall #when do i get to sing my way is just so...

I Predict

Defeated opponents: Beat The Clock, When I'm With You, Johnny Delusional, No. 1 Song In Heaven [Plagiarism Version], All You Ever Think About Is Sex

What people have said about this video: #i predict should win this whole thing #i predict every time. #i made my french class watch the i predict music vid in college. i dont remember why. #but that's how much I loved it #only one answer that i can give #I Predict is just so PERFECT #ron in drag wins #nothing gets better than ron in drag #i predict that i predict will make it very far into the competition #nothing beats i predict i'm afraid #voted i predict because how could I not #i will always root for Heidi #this took zero thought #i predict duh #ron mael striptease should win it all #ron striptease para siempre #if my baby's taking me home can't win (sobs) then I Predict will be an honourable tribute #i predict deserves the win #I Predict is just so much more entertaining to me #and this is coming from someone who doesn't have a huge thing for Heidi unlike most Ron fans lol #i just love how committed he is to the striptease and Russell shining like a star in the audience and the fact that #the whole thing takes place inside an amplifier (a speaker?) #also it feels very Twin Peaks