#Philippine Air Force

[roosterarts]

Philippine Air Force F-5A ready to get in the air!

With all the talk about the Philippines either getting the JAS-39 C/D or the F-16 Block 70, I think its time to look back at the Philippine Air Force's first supersonic fighter jet, the F-5 Freedom Fighter.

First acquired in 1965, the F-5A/Bs would be the main fighter aircraft of the PAF for decades to come. Alongside the USAF based at Clark Air Base, PAF F-5s would intercept Russian and Chinese aircraft that violated Philippine airspace.

The PAF's F-5A/Bs would also serve as close air support for Philippine ground forces engaging various insurgents groups in the country.

The F-5A/Bs would eventually be retired from service in 2005 without a proper replacement. Some of its parts, mainly its combat systems, would be transfered to S-211 trainers in order to convert them to the AS-211 "Warrior" variants, which would serve as the country's main fighter aircraft until the arrival of the FA-50 in 2015.

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[secondworldwarremembrancedays]

Remember the Battle of the Philippine Sea: June 1944.

The last great carrier battle of WWII, the Battle of the Philippine Sea happened as U.S. forces advanced across the Pacific.

A Japanese force—including five large fleet carriers and four light carriers, plus some land-based aircraft—fought seven U.S. fleet carriers and eight light carriers. The U.S. enjoyed not only numerical superiority, but also vastly better aircraft. The new Grumman F6F Hellcats outclassed the old Japanese Zeroes. This disparity led to the action being nicknamed “the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot,” with about four times as many Japanese planes downed as American.

[ouiouimochi]

hi I noticed that u were pipino hehe... since it's her months already, can I req how the characters react to f!reader basically celebrating Christmas literally MONTHS early

thankyou for requesting anon! I'm guessing you meant ber months? funny thing is I've gotten started on writing something for that prompt already but you requesting it also urged me to finish lmao… it's kind of rushed? but I do hope you enjoy it!

Never too early to celebrate the holidays!

context: so here in the Philippines, we actually start preparing for Christmas(heck even celebrating it) in September or the start of the ber months. now imagine how the defense force reacts to you practicing this

pairing/s: various kn8 x reader

genre/s: scenario type, slice of life, romance if you squint well, comedy, crack

wc: 2k

warnings: some characters may be ooc, not exactly canon compliant, grammatical errors, no beta we die like cattle, character studies just went out the window in this crackfic, careful for whiplash sweeties! huge mood changes

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*

It was an unusually relaxed day in the Defense Force, free from the hectic stress of kaiju threats and the like. The day was spent training as usual, but everyone can tell that the atmosphere wasn't heavy with the burden of protecting Japan. They just knew, despite their doubts, that it wasn't the calm before a storm— the worry that their respite would soon be ruined by the stupid beasts that had been haunting them since time immemorial.

There was a distinct chill in the air, signaling the start of the crisp season of autumn. The officers of the Defense Force were already used to the drop in temperature, however some were not completely immune.

You were currently surrounded by your fellow recruits, talking about the sudden cold.

“It feels quite colder than last year,” Kikoru mentions, a small shiver running down her body. She rubs her hands together to gain warmth.

“Yeah, it wasn't this bad then.” Haruichi agreed while burying his hands deep into his parka jacket.

The group continued walking through the streets of the city, their batch having been approved for a day off after training.

“Reno, how in the damned hell are you unaffected?” reno my ice ice baby girl- Iharu hounded the mint haired male as he picked at the other male’s choice of outdoor clothes, the latter responding with a raise of an eyebrow and a shrug.

“We should get warm drinks,” you piped up as everyone expressed their agreement at your suggestion.

“I know just the place.” Haruichi pulled out his phone to show the group a cafe located not too far away. Before long, everyone arrived at the establishment with the ring of the bell above the door.

“Hot chocolate would be perfect,” Kafka sighed out, everyone else thinking of what warm drink to get as their eyes scoured through the menu.

“I'll probably have my usual coffee.”

“Maybe matcha tea?”

“Hot milk tea for me.”

“Macchiato.”

“There's no eggnog?” imsosorryidkwhatchristmasdrinktoputlmao a hum followed as the whole group stared at you with varying emotions.

You had a finger to your lip in thought while scanning the menu. You had your eyebrows slightly scrunched in concentration, debating what to get. A few gazes lingered on your face for a bit too long.

Noticing the silence, you looked at your friends and tilted your head. Realization creeps on your face and you cover your mouth with one palm, bowing apologetically.

“My bad, I didn't mean for everyone to wait for my order… I'll get the same as Reno then,” you sheepishly said.

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

“Hold on, I think I have to go get my package.”

“Again? That's like the 6th one this month, (Y/n).” Kikoru stopped walking before turning to you to raise an eyebrow while resting her hands on her waist.

You shrugged your shoulders, seeing no problem in buying stuff with your own money coughcoughnarumicanneverjkcough.

“What's wrong with it? It's not like I'm broke from buying stuff from Yamazon, no? Unlike…” you trailed off, letting your blonde friend finish for you.

She sighs in response, dropping her arms to her sides as you two resume walking.

“As much as I want to say a comeback, you're right about my moronic teacher… I swear, he always asks me for money.”

“Oh, Kikoru…” you pat her back, laughing lightheartedly, “but I do gotta wonder how he does that when his paycheck is more loaded than mine…”

Your younger friend shook her head, already done with the conversation. She waved you goodbye when you two had to separate ways.

You hummed on your way to the office where one receives any delivered goods from outside the base. You waved and smiled at the nice lady at the desk you managed to get acquainted with from your recent visits.

She pulled up a few boxes from under her desk, creating quite the stack. The lady sweat dropped when her eyes trailed from the piled parcels to you— realizing that it'd be quite troublesome for you to carry alone.

Meeting her gaze and knowing what she was thinking, you shook your head and pulled a thumbs up.

“Don't worry, I can handle this. I just have to sign here as usual right?”

She only nodded, still a little worried as you started stacking each box carefully in your arms. Her concern only raised when your head was barely peeking out from the topmost package.

“Thank you again!” and you somehow safely maneuvered yourself out the doorway without hitting anything.

You were doing pretty well despite having most of your eyesight blocked, having to rely on your other senses. You gotta be thankful that all that training paid off, but perhaps you may have overestimated your capabilities.

Although, you could've sworn nobody was in the vicinity as you felt no other presence— heard no other footsteps, rustling of clothes, or even breathing—, you still failed to react fast enough when you collided with someone at the next turn.

Your eyes widened in surprise while some of your packages flew upwards. Everything was in slow motion but you felt a faint warmth wrap around your back and waist to catch you from falling.

You focused more on the packages that were about to fall— afraid that some of the items would break— and caught them… except for one that soared a bit too far from your reach.

Thankfully, the person who you collided with managed to grab ahold of the last box. You closed your eyes and sighed in relief.

A deep playful chuckle reverberated in the air. Your eyes opened to be met with the cheeky grin of Vice Captain Hoshina. implayingfavoritesperhaps

You blinked at him before standing up straight and off his arm.

“Vice Captain Hoshina, sir! I apologize for the disrespect, but I am unable to currently salute you, sir…”

The man only laughs and waves it off with a friendly smile, a hint of one of his canines poking out.

“At ease,” he scanned you from head to toe, “quite a hazard to walk around with ‘ya vision blocked, no?” still in his hand was the package he caught for you.

“I was holding up quite well due to your training…” you stared up at him before narrowing your eyes jokingly, “But your movements had no sound at all, not even a rustle of your clothes.”

He hummed before taking half the pile of boxes in your arms.

“Where to?”

You tilted your head curiously at his gesture. Alhough it was not unusual for the vice captain to be kind, he usually didn’t show it in such a straightforward way. Nonetheless, you appreciated how he still left some for you to carry on your own.

You smiled and answered him, both of you falling in step towards your destination.

“So what're these for? Noticed you've had deliveries the past month as well.” The purple haired man queried.

You had a slight skip in your step, quite excited to open up the packages that you received. In response to his inquiry, you smiled up at him with a glint in your eyes, “Just some early gift buying for the holidays, sir.” before turning your head away to hum a tune in your head.

‘Christmas shopping in September?’

Hoshina’s eyes remain trained on your form, processing what you just said, before he shook his head and just let you be. Everyone else had learned to not to question you much no matter how… eccentric you were at times. Your eccentricity was one of your charms anyways.

“Careful with what you buy, don't want ‘ya ending up like a certain captain of the First Division…” He advised, finding the opportunity to poke fun at said person despite their current absence.

You rolled your eyes, finding it funny that this is the nth time today Captain Narumi was slandered. “I'm more responsible with my money than you all think, sir.”

Far away in the Ariake Maritime Base of the JAKDF, a certain two-toned haired male let out a sneeze while he was busy playing on his gaming console.

Hasegawa shook his head, “that's what gaming all night gets you,” the older man chided his captain as the said person only covered his ears, unwilling to listen to another lecture.

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

Another yoju drops dead on the concrete ground, everyone’s comms crackling to life.

“Immeasurable amount of yoju bounding to Zone Beta, honju’s whereabouts are unknown,” the familiar voice of Operations Manager Okonogi made itself through the earpiece.

“There's just no end to this!” an officer grumbled as everyone else started bounding to the designated zone.

“Kaiju horde spotted, permission to engage?” You announced into your device while readying your gun, being the first in position. The horde had an average of only 3.6 fortitude level— however, their numbers were what made them problematic. The operations room gave you the signal, indicating that it was something you could handle with your capabilities despite only being a recruit.

You wasted not another moment, immediately pulling the trigger of your pre-aimed gun. A yoju drops as its fellow species trampled over its fallen corpse.

The ground was rumbling with the beasts’ stampede through the open road. Yet again, another shot, another corpse. They were still far from your position, so you continued to efficiently gun down kaiju after kaiju.

You get into a steady beat, unconsciously following a certain rhythm from the back of your mind. You remain locked in, completely washing out most of your surroundings— well of course you are still aware of what's going on around you, just more hyperaware than ever.

“First Division backup has arrived at Zone Beta”

You continued firing away, by now the horde was noticeably dwindling away already. A pair of red glaring lenses watched on, having the pleasure of watching your work first hand as the owner was fastest to arrive.

Captain Narumi only wanted to quickly clear the largest wave of kaiju emergence of the year by far— cursing already how his division had to do a joint operation with the Third. Color him impressed as he just observed how you could clear the horde pretty much on your own. He was mesmerized by the timing and pattern of which you fired your gun—

He narrows his eyes when he realizes something, noticing that it was like you were casually playing a rhythm game with the monsters. Well, that wasn't exactly what made him pause…

‘She isn't shooting them down in the beat of a Christmas song, is she?'

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

“Do any of you think that maybe—just maybee—(Y/n) is actually insane?” Iharu randomly blurted out as the usual group of recruits gathered around. You weren't present at the moment since you were called to the captain's office for something.

“You’re the madman here for being brave enough to even question it.” Kikoru stated matter-of-factly.

“We're literally surrounded by unique people, why are you only pointing fingers at her?” Reno raised an eyebrow, ready to defend you anytime.

“I mean… it's only September… and she's already making holiday preparations!” The pink-haired male tried to explain.

“...He does make quite the point.” Kafka nodded along.

“Eh, how are you all sure she's been doing so?” Reno challenged.

The eldest of the group mentioned what he noticed, “Hasn’t (Y/n) been craving and looking for Christmas season food—”

“You've no right to judge a woman's sudden urge to eat something.” Hakua interjected, the tall female always so passionate when it comes to cuisine.

“Come to think of it… Her part of the room’s been unusually cramped with some packages...” Akari’s mellow voice echoed out.

“It's not really our business to pry into how she uses her paychecks though…”

and so the group bickered back and forth— one half providing ‘evidence’ of your weird behavior, the second half making up possible reasons behind them.

“She’s been humming ‘All I want for Christmas is You‘ by Mariah Carey the past 2 weeks for fuck's sake!”

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*

notes: CRYING SCREAMING HOW DO I WRITE HOSHINA TALKING I FORGOT HOW TO WRITE HIM HHHHHHH (too lazy to edit his parts, this has been in the drafts since the start of september… kinda wanna get it over and done with-)

this was hella rushed, isn't it obvious I made different parts at different days? its a mess just like me :P

[dinums]

The Unexpected Visit

Thomas Shelby x Reader.

Summary: A Filipina woman accidentally travelled back in time. There, she began to work for the Shelbys

Part 2

"Hurry up! We're going to be late for your birthday celebration!" My best friend, Ava, shouted down the hall, prompting me to respond in the same hurried tone.

"Alright! Just give me a moment!"

I looked at myself in the mirror, feeling a sense of satisfaction as I admired my appearance. I was wearing a stylish black and white dress that fell just below my knees, with a white bow tie adorning my hair. My makeup was flawlessly done, accentuating my features.

"Shit, ang ganda ko," I murmured to myself. After securing a job as an animator and starting a new life in the United States, I was finally able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. This was where I would find happiness. Despite missing my home country, the Philippines, the familiar places there held too many painful memories that I preferred to leave behind.

Everything was supposed to go smoothly, until it didn't. From the far corner of my room, I caught a glimpse of someone—a dark figure—watching me. A chill ran down my spine, and my body instinctively went into fight-or-flight mode. Without a second thought, I fled from my room, convinced that the figure was pursuing me. It emitted a sinister laugh, filling the air with an eerie presence. Was this what my mother had warned me about?

---

"Puta... tangina, tangina! Ava, where's Ava?" These thoughts raced through (Y/N)'s mind as she ran, desperately searching for her friend while panic consumed her. As she neared the stairs, she could swear that the figure was still chasing her. In her haste, she stumbled and began to fall, but just as she was about to hit the ground, a blinding light engulfed everything.

---

On a quiet evening in the streets of Watery Lane, Birmingham, Thomas Shelby lay in his bed, lost in thought, cigarette in hand. Suddenly, the drawers started opening, and the air seemed to thin. The entire house shook, as if an earthquake were rocking the foundations. Thomas swiftly grabbed his gun, prepared to confront any potential enemy lurking in the darkness of the night. It felt as if the very earth were tearing apart at the seams. He was about to call for his family when a brilliant flash of white light blinded him, causing him to shield his eyes and turn away.

A loud crash followed, accompanied by the sound of a woman's voice. Thomas, now disoriented, cautiously approached the source of the disturbance, gun still aimed at the woman who had appeared in his home. She seemed panicked, her eyes darting around as she struggled to get to her feet, wincing in pain. It appeared that she had injured her leg, possibly a sprain, which forced her to remain seated on the floor.

Their eyes met, and the woman's breath seemed to catch in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the gun pointed at her. With trembling hands raised in self-defense, she stammered, "Who the hell are you, eh?" Thomas questioned her, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. This woman was unlike any he had encountered before.

"M-me? (Y/N), my name... (Y/N). Please, can you... I don't... the..." Her words faltered as Thomas took a step closer, the gun still pointed at her. Overwhelmed, she broke down, crouching on the floor, averting her gaze. If she were to die, she would rather not see it coming.

As the door opened, she looked up and saw a woman and two other men entering. When her eyes met theirs and then returned to Thomas, the woman spoke up, moving to disarm him.

---

"Jesus, Tom! What are you doing to this poor lady?!" I heard the woman exclaim after the gun was taken away from him. I let out a sigh of relief. Tom, as the man was called, pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. The two other men seemed to be stifling their laughter, although it was difficult to discern as everything started to blur, as if the room were spinning.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in bed, still in the same room as before—at least from what I could remember. As I surveyed my surroundings, I realized I was still wearing the dress, although the bows in my hair were gone. When I attempted to get up, the door opened, revealing the woman from earlier. In her right hand, she carried a tray with tea.

"Don't. You'll hurt yourself," she cautioned, pointing at my ankle. I nodded, and asked, "Can you tell me where I am...? Can I go home? Please..."

"You're in Small Heath. Thomas said you appeared out of thin air. How did that happen?" she responded.

"What year is it?"

"1919."

Small Heath, in 1919? That was far away from home, possibly evenin a different era altogether. It seemed impossible for me to have traveled there in the blink of an eye, let alone through time itself. Sensing my confusion, the woman tried to reassure me. She set the tray of tea on the bedside table and introduced herself as Polly Gray. I nodded in acknowledgment and placed the cup of tea on my lap.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Polly asked, her gaze lingering on the tea leaves in my cup.

"No, I'm not," I replied. She clicked her tongue, taking the cup from me and placing it back on the tray.

"Are you a Gypsy?" she inquired.

"No, I'm not," I repeated. I was starting to feel a glimmer of hope that Polly might be able to help me find my way back home. However, instead of directly answering my question, she posed one of her own.

"Can you read? Are you good with numbers?"

"I can read and do math. Why?"

"If you're going to stay here, you might as well work for us," Polly suggested, her tone implying that she had more to say on the matter.

"Why do you want to help me?" I asked but only got silence in return. The unexpected turn of events had left me bewildered, but I knew I had to gather my wits and adapt to this new reality. Working for Polly and her associates seemed like the only option available to me at the moment. Maybe, just maybe, they could provide me with the answers I sought and help me find a way back home.

"I'll work for you"

"Good."

////

It had been precisely one month and four days since I had become a part of the Shelby family. Despite initial reservations and a sense of distrust, Polly graciously took me under her wing. The other members of the family had an unspoken understanding not to pry into certain events that were yet to happen in their lives, acknowledging that I possessed knowledge of the future. However, that didn't stop some of them, particularly Finn, from asking what it was like. It was a joy to share stories with the young boy, and I was grateful that they kept my arrival in Small Heath a secret, creating a story on how I got up here, to not make the townsfolk ask questions, but then again who would ask the Shelby family questions?

In the present moment, I found myself inside the bustling betting shop, surrounded by a lively crowd. My responsibilities included tallying numbers, verifying receipts, and handling money and the transactions that came with it. The work was demanding, but it provided me with a sense of purpose, a distraction.

Across the room, John stood by the blackboard, inscribing odds while announcing them loudly for all to hear. Meanwhile, Arthur and Thomas had stepped out for a while, leaving Polly and me to manage the shop, with Ada looking after Finn.

"Mas maganda siguro kung animator nalang ako... or if I had a calculator here," I mused to myself, finishing up the last part of my work and giggling at the thought.

"A calculator? What's that?" I heard John's familiar voice as he approached me, a toothpick dangling from his mouth.

"It's- er, a device that helps you with calculations—counting, subtracting, multiplying, and even dividing numbers," I explained.

"Even the big ones?" John asked, curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Even the big ones," I confirmed, a hint of amusement in my voice.

Our conversation was abruptly interrupted when a bloodied Arthur burst into the shop, sending panic through the air. Everyone was ordered to leave, and Polly swiftly took charge, guiding Arthur to the house connected to the betting shop. Ada and John exchanged concerned glances, and I hurriedly joined them, mindful of my sprained ankle. I grabbed a clean cloth to help with Arthur's wounds, while Ada rushed to fetch a bucket of water.

Word seemed to spread quickly, and soon Thomas barged into the house, a bottle of alcohol in hand. He took the cloth from me, and I sat there, observing the scene. Conversations and typical sibling banter filled the air as Arthur and Ada exchanged words, while John and I simply watched them. Arthur began to explain how Inspector Campbell had asked him to assist with a robbery, recounting the encounter. Lost in my own thoughts, I couldn't help but voice my concerns.

"Will you help him? I mean, I wouldn't want to even think of helping a man who beat and bruised me... but..." I trailed off, realizing that all eyes were on me.

"Sorry, please continue," I quickly added.

"We don't help coppers," John stated firmly beside me.

Arthur continued, "He knew all about our war record... said we were patriots like him. I told him we'd take a family meeting and vote."

Knowing this was turning into Family business, I quietly saw myself out, going back to the betting shop to try and do extra work to keep myself busy. Despite the trust I had gained from the family, I understood that certain matters were their own to handle. It was their business, and I respected their boundaries.

///

My mind couldn't seem to shake off the lingering thoughts from our conversation. It had been a good thirty minutes, yet I couldn't help but wonder if the Shelby family would truly help that man with the robbery. After all, how could they trust someone who had beaten one of their own? The situation seemed precarious at best.

"Sana talaga bumalik na ako. Mas masaya siguro ako kung animator na lang ako... please, Lord, babait na ako kung ibabalik niyo lang ako..." I quietly murmured to myself, longing for the familiarity of my previous life.

"What are you blabbering about, eh?" a gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to find Thomas standing before me, a quizzical expression on his face. I raised an eyebrow at him, which seemed to amuse him.

"You haven't apologized since the first time we met," I said, a hint of amusement in my voice.

"And you haven't told me what you said," he replied, curiosity piqued.

"It was a curse. I was cursing you to make a bad decision for pointing a gun at me," I snickered.

A moment of silence passed between us before we both chuckled. "So maybe it isn’t a curse... I was actually wishing to go back home. I even asked the Lord. I told Him that if He took me back, I would be nicer. I just think it would be nice if I could work as an animator. After all, I studied to become one after everything," I confessed, grateful for the Shelby family for taking me in and caring for me in their own ways.

To my surprise, Arthur and I discovered a shared love for drawing. It became apparent when he noticed me doodling one day, and he revealed that he used to love drawing horses. We began to draw together from time to time, he even thought me a few things or so.

Thomas, on the other hand, was more reserved. We didn't have much in common, but whenever I spoke in my native language, he would ask questions about its meaning. He also showed patience when I acted differently, allowing me to talk to him in a more casual manner over time.

John, being closer to my age, was a friendly presence. He had a boisterous personality, and I appreciated having someone to distract me from the noises in my head, a breath of fresh air in this intense environment.

Ada was easy to get along with. She lent me some of her clothing and was always open to conversation. She reminded me of my friends back home, particularly Ava.

Polly and I had a relationship reminiscent of the one I shared with my mother. At first, it felt like walking on thin air, but as I diligently carried out my duties and refrained from meddling in their affairs, she began to open up. She treated me like her own, and when I mentioned the similarities between her tea leaf reading and the practices of lbularyos or witch doctors, she encouraged me to share more.

And now, here I sat with Thomas Shelby himself. Thomas, who stayed quiet for most parts. His presence made me feel like I should continue talking.

"You lot can speak a different language too, right? Maybe you can teach me so that when I go back, I can make an impression, hm?" I suggested, which made him quirk a brow

"Then you'll have to teach me yours too, so it'll be fair, eh?" he replied with a smile and a shake of his head. Jackpot.

"Sure. Speaking of learning, do you know how I got good with numbers?" I asked, looking at him intently. It was just the two of us in the betting shop now, giving me the freedom to share. He then sat down next to me. Taking his gesture as an invitation to keep talking, I continued.

"When I was seven years old, my parents enrolled me in a program, a math center. It took me eight years to complete the whole program!" I explained, shivering at the memories.

"You didn't go to school?" he inquired.

"Oh, I did. I attended school while also studying math at that center. By the time I was sixteen, I was juggling school subjects like statistics, probabilities, and calculus, along with history lessons about my country... all that stuff. Later on, I learned animation, which gave me something to do, something I enjoyed."

"What do you do in animation?" Thomas asked, my face seemed to look very excited as i moved my chair closer to him, as if it wod be easy for him to be absorbing the knowledge I was about to share.

"Well," I began, a smile playing on my lips, "I draw illustrations, frame by frame. Basically, you see this?" I gestured, moving my hand as if I'm waving. He nodded in response as If my gesture wasn't obvious. "I draw something like that, people in motion, you know, like those pictures Ada goes to see. But Instead of people, its drawings. That was my job."

"And you can't do that now?" Thomas questioned, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Well...its easier to do it digitally," I explained, trying to find the right words to describe the concept, I used my hands, waving them in the air as if it would help the situation. Seeing his puzzled expression, I sighed and admitted defeat. "You know... its like this technology. It's hard to explain, to be honest. It's giving me a headache just thinking about it."

Thomas nodded, tilting his head slightly to indicate that he had listened to my explanation. After awhile more, we both stood up

"I've go to go, somewhere I need to be"

"Oh? Did my curse work? You're off to make a bad decision?" I joked which earned me another smile and a shake of his head.

"Maybe tomorrow, Do you drink?"

"That depends, is there an occasion?" I asked,walking over to the window, there I realised it was already dark, we've talked throughout the afternoon.

"Just come, eh?"

"Ask me again next time and I'll agree, if we spend too much time your ears might bleed."

"Next time then."

///

///

She stayed in Thomas' room during her stay, a decision made by the family. As she headed upstairs, she spotted Polly taking care of Finn. Pausing in her task, Polly spoke up.

"Need any help?"

"No, just check on Ada for me, thank you, love," she replied, and I agreed to do so.

"Alright, goodnight, Pol."

"Goodnight, love."

Making my way upstairs, I found Ada in her room.

"Are you going to sleep? Pol asked me to check up on you," I asked, and she yawned and nodded, pushing me towards Thomas' room.

"Yeah, off to bed. You too. I can manage myself. Goodnight, (Y/N)!"

"Oh, goodnight Ada," I said before she shut the door, leaving me confused, what are you up to Ada? I walked to the bed and crawled under the covers, ready to sleep.

As I drifted off, I couldn't help but utter a quiet gratitude, "Thank you, po," to no one in particular.

---

"Pol, do you know anyone who might know a way for me to get back? I think I'm losing hope already," I asked Polly, seeking some answers. It had been quite a hectic week word of mouth saying Thomas shooting someone, Mr. Campbell raiding homes of communists, Ada's pregnancy, and Thomas picking a fight with the Lee family.

"Oh, love. Just a little longer, hm? You'll go back. I'm sure of it," Polly said, her words providing temporary comfort. I had grown attached to the Shelby family, and the thought of leaving without knowing their fate weighed heavily on my mind.

"You know, Poll, I'm scared. If I do leave, then what about you guys? I won't ever get to see you all again... I won't know how you guys are doing unless I can read it from history books. I won't know how to help," I confessed, my voice filled with concern.

She took my hand in hers, offering reassurance. "Don't worry, love. Just give us a proper goodbye, and we'll be fine, alright?"

"I'll miss you if I do go," I admitted, a touch of sadness in my voice.

"We'll miss you too," she replied, understanding my worries.

---

That night, I decided to stay up late. I sat in the kitchen, working on a few doodles on a piece of paper. I drew frogs, horses, Polly, Ada, and Finn. The door swung open, revealing a drenched Thomas holding a bottle of whiskey.

"Woah," I exclaimed, surprised by his sudden entrance.

"A drink?" he offered, though his tone felt more like an order than an invitation. Remembering my promise, I grabbed two glasses and placed them on the table as he poured a drink for both of us.

"So, rough day? What happened this time?" I asked, curious to hear the events that had happened, though by the looks of it, thos wasn't a good one.

"I shot a horse," he replied. My eyes widened, my mouth agape, silently urging him to continue.

"It looked at me the wrong way, so I..." he trailed off, the weight of his actions evident in his voice.

"I look at you the wrong way most of the time. Maybe you should've done the same to me," I mumbled, moving my chair closer to him. He sighed, taking a swig of his drink.

"Back in France, I got used to seeing men die, but I never got used to seeing horses die," he confessed, his tone filled with remorse.

I nodded, taking small sips of my whiskey. "Horses, or any animals in general, they aren't like us. When we kill, it can be for so many reasons, but they do it to survive and protect. So, it's good that you feel bad about it. It makes you human. It proves you're not what you think you are."

"What do you think I am?" he questioned, curiosity lacing his words.

"You're not that far off. You're not as cold as anyone, or even yourself, perceives you to be, and that's a good thing. So, let it all out today," I encouraged, understanding the weight of his burdens.

We fell into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the clinking of glasses as he poured himself more whiskey. After a while, I nudged him with my glass.

"I don't drink much," I confessed, offering him my glass. He took it and drank, and eventually, he began to talk again.

"Is that Polly?" he asked, pointing at the doodle I had made of her. I nodded, pointing out the other family members as well.

"I drew the people I talked to today. I guess I should draw you too, huh?" I suggested, feeling a sense of warmth in our conversation. He shrugged, turning his chair to fully face me.

"Should I stay still, then, eh?" he asked playfully.

"Nope! I've already memorized your face by now," I replied without much thought, not realizing the subtle smirk that graced his lips as I began to sketch him.

"You know, I'm glad that it was your house I accidentally traveled to. Even though it was scary at first," I shared, stealing quick glances at his drenched face to capture the details in my sketch. "Anyways, you'll catch a cold if you stay like that. When I was a kid, my parents used to throw their slippers at me from inside while I played in the rain."

"What? Would you do that to me?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Imagining the scenario, I burst into laughter. The image of me throwing slippers at Thomas in the rain seemed quite comical.

"I will if you let me."

"Maybe someday"

When I finished the sketch, I looked at it with satisfaction.

"Pogi," I murmured, using a Filipino term that meant "handsome." Though he didn't need to know that

"Pogi?" he repeated, looking at me curiously. I shook my head, realizing I had slipped into a different language.

"I said I was done," I clarified, handing him the paper with a smile. He took it, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered, barely above a breath. We both knew that those two words held multiple meanings, and despite everything, he meant them sincerely.

[judgemark45]

PHILIPPINE SEA (Feb. 24, 2024) A U.S. Air Force B-52 Stratofortress, attached to the 5th Bomb Wing, and aircraft attached to Carrier Air Wing (CVW) 11, fly in formation over the Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN 71), Feb. 24, 2024. Theodore Roosevelt, flagship of Carrier Strike Group Nine, is underway conducting routine operations in the U.S. 7th Fleet area of operations. U.S. 7th Fleet is the U.S. Navy’s largest forward-deployed numbered fleet, and routinely interacts and operates with allies and partners in preserving a free and open Indo-Pacific region. U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Thomas Gooley

[pannaginip]

Since 2021, such attacks have been documented by human rights groups, who stressed that these put marginalized communities in danger. As such, Karapatan said these incidents constitute a clear violation of international humanitarian law (IHL).

From 2021 to 2024, Karapatan documented 9,163 individuals or about 1,953 families who were affected by aerial bombing and indiscriminate strafing in the province of Cagayan. Human rights groups attribute these attacks to the Philippine Air Force.

During this time, a total of 17 incidents were recorded in Cagayan: 11 bombings and strafing, 2 bombardment, and 4 strafing attacks. Six occurred under the Duterte administration while 11 happened during the Marcos Jr. administration. This is part of the 13 regions in the Philippines subjected to aerial bombings where Karapatan documented 378,203 victims.

“One of the emblematic cases under the Duterte administration was the bombing of Marawi City, when the President declared martial law in Mindanao on May 23, 2017 that lasted until December 31, 2019.“ said Karapatan Secretary General Cristina Palabay.

In the first year of Marcos Jr., there were 6,931 victims of bombings documented as part of the government’s counterinsurgency campaign, Karapatan said.

In May, an international people’s tribunal issued a guilty verdict to Marcos Jr. and the US government for violating the international humanitarian law.

In the initial verdict furnished to the media, the five-member jurors of the [International Peoples Tribunal or] IPT revisited the US government’s role in the counterinsurgency program that allowed such war crimes to happen, saying that the “heavy bombardment and forced displacement of communities, and the killing of civilians and hors de combat of state forces would not have been possible without the direction, arms, and training provided by the US government.

2024 Aug. 12

[cr4yolaas]

mezzo forte — homesick v.2

track 8: non-confrontational | masterlist | track 10: ebb and flow

hajime sits on the couch of his childhood home listlessly. it's the same couch that he watched doraemon on at ten in the evening, and it still bears the same popsicle stains from blistering hot summers spent with his childhood friends. just like before, his nanay stands in the kitchen washing rice and chopping veggies, while his lola sits with her legs beneath the cheap kotatsu they found at a garage sale the year they moved from the philippines to japan. it should feel like home. but a warm, sticky feeling (either from the hot air or from overwhelming guilt, he'll never know) makes him feel like an intruder in a house that should be his.

the rice cooker plays a cheery melody as it begins to warm up, and his mom takes it as a signal to rest beside him. her weight, albeit much less than his, dips into the cushion and forces him to lean towards her ever so slightly. as if on instinct, her hands, still slightly damp from washing the rice, reach up to massage his head, worn fingers threading threading through each strand of hair with intent (it’s a little uncomfortable, given his significant height difference). he doesn't have the heart to tell her that he's grown out of it — that the gentle rubbing of her fingertips atop his scalp isn't as relaxing for him as it used to be, and instead, it leaves him feeling antsy.

a filipino talk show murmurs quietly on the television, the hosts giggling about their carefree lives with a cheesy laughing sound effect to accompany their discussion. none of them seem to be really watching it. the ministrations on his head fail to cease, even as his mom starts speaking to him.

"why hasn't yn been visiting?" she questions, and while she doesn't outwardly express it, he can tell she misses her.

hajime shifts awkwardly in his seat. "she's upset at me, ma-"

"maryosep," she interjects with irritation laced in her tones and a slight tug on his hair. he winces at the pull, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees his lola halt her knitting to listen in. "how did that happen, hm? did you do something stupid?"

his mother always asks despite already knowing the answer. she would ask him if he threw out the extra veggies he didn't want to eat, even if she already saw him dumping the contents of his plate into the trash. she would ask if he was keeping his grades up, even if his teacher already informed her of his inability to stay focused in class through a hastily typed email. it's a habit that she can't seem to rid herself of, and it makes itself painfully obvious here.

hajime's admiration for her planted itself into every crevice of his being the day they moved in. both his lola and nanay knew, even if he never shared it with them. they watched it grow in waves — from youth, when he would give her the advantage in all the games they played together; to his teenage years, when he would stay up late to listen to her fumble at guitar chords on the floor of his bedroom; to adulthood, in which he acts as a moon rotating around its beloved planet. he doesn't have to explain the story, nor does he have to detail any part of the conflict; his behaviors and routines have been engraved into each inch of bone in their bodies — the result of raising a child as hectic as he.

"kase, you have to be honest. walang scared, haji." her hand tears away from his hair and rests itself on her lap. he can't find it in himself to look at her. "you will only make it worse if you can't be direct with her."

he looks at the floorboards, tracing the patterns with his eyes and hoping he'll find an answer between the wooden lines. low hums from the air conditioning echo through his brain, and he wants nothing more than to escape the heavy gaze of his mother and the pressurizing air that his grandma exudes with each still breath. he hates that they know. that his vulnerability is no longer capable of being masked from them. that, in the end, he knows his mom is right.

"do you think you can really love her?" his lola asks as if it's a casual question. slowly, she resumes her knitting, but by no means does her attention stray from him.

"yes," he breathes out, with a smidge of confidence that has unfamiliar origins. "i want to," he whispers.

"then be straightforward." his cheeks squish up between his mother's palms. this time, he can't avoid her or her stare. "tell her you really, truly feel. then you can do that."

his chest burns beneath their combined stares. all he can muster up is a small nod; his body feels like it’d shrivel up if he tried to do anything else. she runs rampant in his mind. he can’t escape it.

“mahal ko, ‘kay?” his mother whispers before pressing a loving kiss to his forehead. hajime wants to sob.

——

everything passes by in a daze. an innumerable mass of photographers and actors and directors distribute themselves amongst her studio — her safe haven. it feels sticky on her skin. but it’s business.

she isn’t quite sure why they all have to be present. frankly, she isn’t quite sure about anything that she’s doing — it isn’t often that she does this type of work. her hands twitch here and there while she click, click, clicks away at her mouse and keys, arranging something that she hopes is up to standard, and at the same time, the coalescence of bumbling and shuffling fills the room a smidge too full. it’s overwhelming. it’s horrifying. she wants to escape.

“…is there any way you can turn up the strings there? i think it’d be cool since we kinda have, like, a huge impactful scene here,” suggests one woman who stands at the side of her desk. she presumes it’s an actor, given by the neat up-do of her hair and the way she taps at her phone and the outfit she bears, which is far from suitable for this kind of meeting.

her suggestion sparks annoyance from the director, who stands behind the desk. “no, no, then it’s too overwhelming. i’m going for something nicer here, like a- what is it- a wash of color,” he rambles.

another protests from another corner of the room, and then another, and then another. she decides it’s better to sit and wait in patience. her palm, sweaty and marred, pulls away from its position and falls to her side. she’s tired of being pulled into the bickering and arguments. all she wants to do is compose and call it a day.

however, even that is difficult when she can’t save her mind from drifting to where it shouldn’t be.

two weeks without contact.

the concept of time suffocates her. tempo is essential to establishing control and energy in music, an idea that’s strongly familiar to her, but when it comes to true time in the real world, she can’t grasp it. however, now that it’s so blatantly in front of her, she can’t run away.

exaggerated complaints and wails and arguments waft about. it's too loud, much too loud, and all she can focus on to distract herself is the couch that she sat on weeks ago, smushed between her two anchors and eating homemade sinigang to soak away the stress. she wonders if the rift would be any less apparent if she hadn't let herself get carried away.

she wonders if they'd still want to sit on her couch, with her in the middle, hajime on her left, and tooru on her right, just as they always had.

a heavy knock disrupts the flow (or rather, the lack thereof) of the conversation. everyone is watching, staring, anxiously awaiting for someone to do something so they can get back on track. she waits for one, two, three seconds before finally getting up to open the door.

no one is there — save for a familiar tupperware container sitting on the ground filled with arroz caldo, his favorite.

her entire body aches, starting with her head, down to her chest, until it finally reaches her legs, which seem to give out beneath her. it's beyond unprofessional. she isn't quite sure if they'd still be willing to work with her after this blatant display of vulnerability. but those worries are pushed away into a far, far corner of her mind when she lifts up the plastic bag and it smells like home.

♪ this smau ended up being sm more angsty than i thought it would be. whoops !

♪ shoyo is so dependent on iwa </3 he misses his mean, beefy, intelligent roommate who is also his coworker

♪ japan usually broadcasts anime episodes on tv pretty late at night (10 pm to 4 am) and i imagine iwa was the type of kid to sneak out of his bedroom to watch doraemon and whatnot

♪ he tried to sneak yn and tooru in to watch with him at some point when they were 8 and it backfired so horribly </3 it's one of his favorite memories though

♪ in comparison to yn and tooru he genuinely believes that nothing has really changed between them (hence his inability to see through yn's songs). whether its genuine blindness or just him clinging onto what once was, it makes him the most disconnected from the group bc he doesn't realize how far apart they are now

♪ yn ate the arroz caldo in tears btw the staff had to excuse themselves LOL

♪ idk i'm so exhausted and while band camp is over i still have practice every other weekday ... i just want to write the chapters in my head </3

taglist: @zumicho @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @yuminako @chemiru @sunnyskiezzzz @httpsivy @itsdragonius @theycallmenanamisgirl @wyrcan @19calicos @hunnies4bunnies @mawenskiblue @diorzs @loverlunaire @mfcherry @solaqes @myromanempiree @brithedemonspawn @corvid007 @lilchubbyyy @hyenagoated

[fandomsonrequests]

filipino tf 141 reader hcs

just needed to get this out lowkey a cod oc

BUT its only the name that was mentioned but let's goo:

You're a 2nd lieutenant in the Philippine Army. You got recruited by Price into TF 141 after some AQ forces tried to set up base in Mindanao.

Your callsign would be Aswang-- named after the Filipino "vampire" who's a normal person in the day and a vampire creature in the night with a proboscis-like tongue.

Soap is the one who asked WHY your name is like that. you don't seem like an intimidating person: you're charismatic, spend time with the team, lend your time and help whenever possible, all of that. What have you done to warrant such a fearsome callsign?

Price explained it. Basically -- in folklore, Aswang's wings can be heard when they're far. But the closer they get, the softer the sound becomes. So you don't know where the Aswang is hiding. So like you-- from a distance, the enemy could hear assailants falling to the ground, gunshots reverberating through the air. And then they're frantically looking around for you, not knowing where you'll pounce.

Rudy and Alejandro being speechless when you offered them some puto. Like-- "Did they just call us puto??" Rudy was hurt, Alejandro was about to throw hands but then you pull out the steamed rice pastry. And they immediately apologize and try some of the puto you offered hsbjns They really enjoyed it tho! Especially when they eat it with butter or condensed milk

Teaching everyone how to speak Filipino. Its always the easiest to learn cuss words-- especially for Alejandro, Rudy, and Soap. Spanish and Filipino? So many shared words in the language SJKSS Alejandro and Rudy learn fast-- moreso Rudy cos he's not as busy as Alejandro. Soap comes next. he's a quick learner, very quick. But his accent is so thick that sometimes you have to make him repeat what he said. He doesn't take it badly, if anything, it makes him want to learn more

You and Ghost relate to each other in hiding your identities. You don't hide your whole face-- just your eyes via the military-grade polarized sunglasses. Mostly because you express yourself with your lips and hands.

Soap pesters you to remove your shades; asks if you're ugly too. "Keep pestering me about this Soap and the less chance you get to see the rest of my face." Ghost has never seen your face but you've seen his. He lowkey wants to pester you too but he knows better.

You have high respect for Price-- high respect. You jokingly called him itay (slang for dad) and he allowed it. So sometimes, in a playful mood, you'd refer to him as tay or itay. There was this one very rare occasion he called you anak. You teared up and cried that day.

You and Gaz bond over dogs! I think Gaz is a dog man. So when he learned that you used to be a part of the troop that handled the K9 units, he grew attached to you. He's the only one who knows that you named your dogs after famous filo soap opera characters sbhnjkms

[juniorig0327]

Wrote this in like two hours how do y'all feel about this?

Percy can’t believe it went wrong so quickly.

He was enjoying his well deserved retirement from the demigod life, hell he was getting to a point where he almost believed he deserved it. That’s when he heard his mom call his name.

“-Percy! Hurry come quick!” Sally called out and he came rushing into the other room, clutching his pen.

“Mom? What’s wrong..?”

The only thing she did was point to the radio and turn up the volume.

“…This is KTU in Honolulu, Hawaii. I am speaking from the roof of the Advertiser Publishing Company Building. We have witnessed this morning the distant view a brief full battle of Pearl Harbor and the severe bombing of Pearl Harbor by enemy planes, undoubtedly Japanese. The city of Honolulu has also been attacked and considerable damage done. This battle has been going on for nearly three hours. One of the bombs dropped within fifty feet of KTU tower. It is no joke. It is a real war–”

His hands began to tremble. War? Oh no, oh hell no. He’d had enough war in lifetime. First with Kronos and then with Gaea. He was not going to fight in another war, he wanted no part in it, especially a war against mortals. Killing insane Titans and Primordial beings was one thing, but humans? Humans who bled red? Humans in which the only difference between them is that their ambition wasn’t golden? Not humans. He’d avoided directly killing demigods, people with flesh and blood like him – maybe not like him, he felt more god than human these days, those people were more human than he was weren’t they? – before, but he had a feeling. This might not be something he could escape from. He clenched his fists as they began to tremble and the talking continued.

“The, uh…public of Honolulu has been advised to keep in their homes and away– uh from the Army and Navy. There has been serious fighting going on in the air and on the sea. The heavy shooting seems to be…”

Fuck. Was it just his mind or did everything seem to be closing in on him? It got way harder to breathe, like it was a struggle to inhale and exhale. He could feel shaking at the balls of his feet but he didn’t know where it was coming from. All he could hear was static in his ears. Was he dying? Was this the part where his life would flash before his eyes? Would he open his eyes (he doesn’t remember closing them) and be in Charon’s boat? 

“--Percy!”

Something cut through the static. It sounded familiar, the voice (not like the voices in his head– something real). He heard the voice again, calling for someone. Percy? Who was Percy? Was that him? He didn’t know. 

“Percy. You’re in New York right now and I need you to calm down sunshine.’

Annabeth? That sounded like Annabeth. But Annabeth wasn’t here, was she? (Suddenly it got a lot easier to breathe.)

“Sunshine, I need you to open your eyes.”

Well, if it was Annabeth, he could trust her. He opened his eyes hesitantly to see an IM of Annabeth in front of him. “Annabeth..” He let out a sigh, looking up at her. “... I– we’re going to have to fight. Again. Against mortals.��� 

“Percy you can’t think like that.”

“Yeah, you’re right I guess.”

-

“Yesterday the Japanese Government also launched an attack against Malaya. Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong: Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam. Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. Last night the Japanese attacked Wake Island. And this morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our Nation.

As Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense.”

Percy began packing his bags, staring at the sheet of paper on his desk. He felt a surge of rage and bitterness thinking about it. He was supposed to be done with fighting, all of this. But no, now he has to go fight for a country he’s not even sure he wants to fight for. But he has to fight, he has to fight against another evil, an evil that's not something of the godly world, but someone (thing) so terribly human it disgusts him.

“But always will our whole Nation remember the character of the onslaught against us.

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger.”

He slung the bag over his shoulder with the letter in his pocket, taking – possibly – one last look at his room before closing the door. He stepped out to see his mom and Annabeth standing beside each other. He couldn’t help but smile a little as he stepped forward to kiss his mom on the cheek. “I’m gonna miss you both. Ma, don’t get all lonely without me. Don’t forget I’m an IM– or a letter – away, don’t hesitate to reach out.” He couldn’t help but be upset. Paul was at Pearl Harbor and died (in water, in his domain, in his dad’s domain. He can’t forgive himself for that) and now he was being drafted. His mom would be all alone (because of him the voice in head head helpfully supplies).

“With confidence in our armed forces with the unbounding determination of our people we will gain the inevitable triumph so help us God.”

He turned to Annabeth and cupped her face, leaning in for a passionate kiss. He could taste the coffee on her tongue as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. After kissing way too long for being in front of his mother he pulled away. “I’ll be back. I promise. Never Again remember?” He said, his voice shaky, as if he was trying to convince himself more than her. 

“Yeah.” She said back, her voice just as shaky as they pushed their foreheads together for a brief moment. Annabeth was the first one to pull back. “Go.”

“I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.”

 February 5, 1942 Percy Jackson left for war.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Oh how I've been waiting to send these all in. My time has finally come.

(Cw/tw: drinking mention, depression, suicidal ideation mention, hallucinatiom and possession mentions)

- They have a rule where none of them are allowed to drink alone (Epic scared the shit out of them one specific time, both Delta and Color have landed themselves in jail from doing dumb shit before), so if one drinks, they all drink together. If Beta gets uncomfortable, they will stop. However, them all being some form of drunk means Beta gets recording and blackmail privileges.

- They all need different ways of comfort (Epic needs physical/verbal reassurance and distractions, Color needs verbal reassurance as touch can be too much for him at times, and Delta needs physical touch and to talk about what's bothering him).

- They all speak multiple languages (since Delta and Epic's creators are both from the Philippines, I imagine they'd both speak Tagalog, Filipino and Spanish. Epic also probably knows Japanese. Color can speak Arabic since his creator is from Egypt (from what the wiki said).

- They have definitely blown something up as a group before. I will let you decide what that something will be.

- Delta has blown up a microwave before on accident (and gets clowned for it).

- They all forget to eat sometimes and need to be reminded.

- They are all banned from UNO, Monopoly, and Mario Cart. Especially Delta.

- They know about Epic's depression and help pull him out of depressive ruts when needed.

- They know how to calm Delta down and distract him if he's getting too angry.

- They know how to comfort and gently but bluntly correct Color's hyper-empathy if it's causing him too much stress.

- They all love Zorox so much and probably give him too many treats.

- They have all had some form of an identity crisis at one point or another.

- On the alignment chart: Color is lawful good, Epic is true neutral, and Delta/Beta is chaotic good.

- They are very protective of each other. If someone is talking shit, they will handle it differently; Epic will 'jokingly' threaten to shut them up, both physically and verbally. Color will correct their behavior and scold them, maybe guilt trip them a bit. Delta will probably threaten to beat the shit out of them if they don't stop.

- They all experience PTSD nightmares.

- Epic is the reason they found out Beta gets sugar rushes (and since they affect Beta, then it would probably affect Delta too? Their ADHD would probably be off the charts).

- They all drink way too much caffeine (Delta is forced to drink half-caf bc Beta goes off the fucking wall Bonkers if they get any of it).

- Due to trying to avoid sleep, Epic sometimes experiences hallucinations/delusions if he goes too many days without sleeping.

- Delta/Beta are the most chaotic obviously, therefore need to be watched over to make sure they won't do anything crazy or stupid.

- They can all be a bit dramatic at times.

- Beta has definetly tried to see if they could roast marshmallows from the heat of Color's flames before.

- Beta is the little brother of the group and is treated as such.

- They all know ASL.

- They probably know Morse Code.

- They do NOT like creepy dolls or figures. Including mannequins. Epic and Color are disturbed by them and dislike them, but Delta/Beta HATE them.

- Epic takes great joy in annoying them with brainrot slang.

- They'll just. Pick each other up sometimes. Sometimes it'll be for a reason, like if they have to put Delta/Beta in air jail, but other times it'll be just for fun.

- I'm not sure how to explain it but their ages vs. how they act goes like this: Epic is the oldest but acts the youngest, Color is the middle but acts the oldest, and Delta/Beta is the youngest but acts the middle (Beta acts their age).

- During their haunted explorations, sometimes the ghosts will attack Beta, mostly because he's another ghost but in a different way. The rest of the group protects him (usually Delta switches out with him).

- Also during their haunted explorations, Delta has gotten possessed before. It was not fun. They no longer play mirror games or do seances. His tells for possession are: eye flickering (his eyes will flicker-change colors to whatever the Soul color is of the possessing ghost), going nonverbal, sudden aggression, acting like who's possessing him (ex; if the ghost possessing him likes to hide around, Delta will suddenly run/teleport off and hide from the others. They will have to find him, and if Delta doesn't want to be found, he won't be for a while.

- If one of them (usually Delta) says something particularly unhinged, the others will gently but firmly either whack him upside the head or bonk him to correct him.

- Sometimes Delta will need to ask permission to beat the shit out of someone (usually this is directed at Cross and Killer if they do something dumb). They made their own little signs to ask so no one outside of their group would be able to understand. He is usually told no (there was one rare occasion he was allowed to rock Killer's shit, and it made his entire fucking week).

- (This is inspired by that one ask talking about how Delta would try to sacrifice himself in battle) Delta has little to no self preservation skills. Like worse than the other two. He will not think ahead to how certain actions could affect the future unless its during a fight or dire circumstances. He has had suicide issues in the past and his friends know about it (hence one of the many reasons no one's allowed to drink alone).

- (Also inspired by the same ask as above) whenever Delta tries/does stupid and/or harmful shit, his friends do not let him get away with it. They have had to drive him to the hospital on more than one occasion depending on how hurt he is. They will talk about it with him no matter how much he doesn't want them to.

- Even though he doesn't like Cross and Killer, if he notices or is told that something he's doing is bothering them, he will stop immediately. No questions asked. He may dislike them and want to fight them, but he won't disrespect or purposefully trigger them.

- Beta likes to bite on random. Delta could literally just be working and all the sudden Beta tries to bite his hand. Like a puppy. Along with that, if he feels like he's not getting enough attention, he will start bothering them or try to play-fight.

- Yk that challenge where you fill your mouth with water and then smack someone with a tortilla? They've done that challenge before.

- Beta likes bugs. And also likes to scare the others with them.

Yay more headcanons!

Although I tend to lend more towards Color being Neutral Good, according to this description;

“Neutral good is a character alignment that describes someone who acts altruistically and without regard for rules or tradition. Neutral good characters are often willing to cooperate with lawful officials, but they don't feel obligated to them.

They may also do the right thing, even if it means breaking the rules. Examples of neutral good characters include healers who treat both sides of a fight and people who feed the starving during a war.” But lawful good seems to fit pretty well too.

And I can imagine that both Epic and Color are very protective of Delta and helping when whenever he hurts himself, not only because he’s their friend and because they care about him, but because Delta is in large part the only reason they’re able to still keep going in the day to day.

Delta was very helpful and inspiring for them both. Meeting Delta when he did is the very reason Color was even able to help Killer at all, let alone keep going without also getting himself killed. And im sure Delta has managed to help and support Epic in ways he’s not been supported—wouldn’t allow himself to be—in a very long time.

And tbh cross and killer probably have a lot things to thank Delta for. Bro’s the unsung hero. (Not that Delta would ever think of himself that way. That’s all because Epic and Color so both unbelievably strong and brave in his eyes.)

And ngl I wanna know what was the occasion where delta was allowed to absolutely rock killers shit cause lords know he deserves it (coming from someone who isn’t nightmare or Chara of course.)

Now ngl im kinda curious what everyone thinks the Epic Sanses’ + Beta’s Myers Briggs personality types could be.

[lets-break-free-from-our-chains]

Always and Forever My Truest: Chapter 2

(A/N): Hey everyone! Surprised myself with writing chapter 2 so quickly, but after writing the first chapter I think I really got my mood back for the series. By the looks of it I think it’ll really start kicking off in chapter 3 or so. I hope you guys like chapter 2! Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist, and thank you for all the support on my writing!

Word Count: 1,300-ish

Summary: Anniversary planning is never easy, especially when it’s your 453rd anniversary. Now the reader must be the one to deal with annoying Alexanders and the new information about a long lost Alexander female was just be brought to light.

Warnings: dub-con, forced marriage, polygamy, possible Stockholm syndrome?, obsessive/possessive behavior, Yandere-ish Walter de Ville, dom/sub relationship, abuse of power, threats—warnings to be added. Let me know if I missed anything.

18+ MINORS DNI!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! I DON’T NEED TO GET IN TROUBLE BECAUSE YOU’RE A MINOR READING STUFF YOU KNOW VERY WELL YOU SHOULD NOT BE READING!!! THANX

Disclaimers: I do not own The Invitation or any of the characters within the movie. You know what is and isn’t mine.

Walter de Ville x Wife!Reader

~Present day in 2022~

~(Y/N) P.O.V~

Roses. Traditional and elegant, but so unoriginal. Possibly the bleeding heart flower? The master would certain find that choice amusing. Then again, there is Cherry Blossoms. Representing renewal, which is befitting given the celebration.

‘Oh, but we had those for our 342nd Anniversary!’ I thought in frustration, huffing out a sigh. ‘Where is the creativity. The awe factor!’

The event coordinator must have sensed my rapidly rising irritation, as I shuffled through the damn flower books, and she scrambled to suggest more flower ideas. “There is always Locus flowers, Lady De Ville! They would certainly make a statement and the setting—”

“No.” I stated, indifference overcoming my composure. “No, I just don’t understand I suppose. You’ve had days and days to prepare and nothing you have shown me has yet to impress me in the slightest. Perhaps, I was wrong in believing you fit for the task…”

I stare her down as she struggles to find words in her defense. It was amusing in a way. Despite how I am in the presence of my husband, I cast off an entirely different persona in the presence of the public. A persona to rival that of the master. It’s certainly an entertaining sight for my Lord Love to watch as I interact with people. My mother always said, “who we are and who we have to be, are sometimes to completely different things.”

‘Words that I live by to this day.’  I mused to myself.

The coordinator still has yet to find solid footing and I grow tired of her incompetence. I close my eyes in disappointment and turn to leave the gardens before an innocent voice cuts through the air.

“Wait (Y/N/N)! Look at these flowers, Jade Vines.” Lucy called out, turning to me with a picture of turquoise blue flowers. ‘They certainly were stunning and most of all unconventional’ I pondered. I beckon her closer and she came bounding over, blonde curls bouncing softly with her every movement.

I hear the coordinator finally find her irksome voice, “Yes, Jade Vines would be an excellent choice! They are exotic flowers from the Philippines and considered one of the world’s most rare flowers, if not the rarest.”

I drown out her voice as a study the picture before I cast my gaze up to Lucy’s anticipated facial expression. I finally smile as I speak, “Yes, the Jade Vines would be perfect!” Lucy lets out an excited squeak. “Well done, Lucy.”

I bestow a soft endearing look to her as her face lights up at the praise and she bounces in her place. Viktoria can be so impatient with Lucy, bossing her about, and sometimes being just downright cruel. When Viktoria isn’t bullying her she simply ignores Lucy as if she isn’t even there. It saddens me to think that Lucy believes that no one cares for what she has to say. I do though, and I gladly listen her rambling. It’s nostalgic in a way as it reminds me of a younger me. A human me.

“Perhaps, I should place Lucy in charge of my anniversary event.” I glare at the other woman, who once again finds herself lost for words. “Don’t disappoint me again.” Which she vehemently nods in fear.

With that I swiftly turn and depart from the gardens. I’m almost inside when Renfield stops me on the spacious patio. He bows before rising to speak, “My deepest apologies for disturbing your planning, Lady De Ville. However, Oliver Alexander made an unannounced visit with what he claims is urgent news.”

I give Renfield an inquisitive and uncertain look before I fall back into my normal façade, “and tell me, why is this not being brought forth to the master?” I inquire, with a condescending head tilt.

“He has several important meetings lined up today, Mistress. Forgive me, I tried to send him away to return on a better day, but he insisted if he could not see the Master then he wished to speak to the Mistress.”

I heavily sighed before making my way towards my personal library. “Very well. Send him to my study in 10 minutes.”

“Certainly, Lady De Ville.” Renfield bowed, despite my turned back, and departed to collect Oliver Alexander.”

~(Y/N)’s Library~

I read over a few business project proposals and bank statements for some of the Castellan companies, before a steady knock sounds from the library doors. My golden hued eyes slowly trail over to the doors in disinterest. “Come in.”

Renfield swiftly opens the doors and makes way for Oliver. I internally roll my eyes, as Oliver gives me a dopey smile and bows in respect. He has always been a weasel and he truly had no favor with me at all. That’s why Walter tended to deal with him, so as not to upset me in any way. Speaking of which I didn’t need this boy here a moment longer than necessary.

“I hope your news is as urgent as you claim it to be, Oliver. You know I have little patience for those who waste my time.” My golden irises sharpen in a dangerous manner, to which the boy begins to squirm under.

“Yes of course, Lady De Ville. I wouldn’t dare dream of it. Though it truly is a marvelous occurrence and—”

“Out with it, Alexander!” I hissed, feeling my teeth elongate.

“We have discovered a female of the Alexander bloodline. Evie Alexander.” He fearfully blurted out.

This was quite a discovery. A very important one. All the bloodlines were bound in ancient magic to my Lord Love and the bloodlines worked together like a well oiled machine to insure prosperity and protection. Perhaps before the master and I were married, the prospect of offering a bride to the master held meaning, but that was no longer the case. At least not since he and I were wed and had became one. Now it was about keeping the bloodlines in line and doing our bidding under the illusion that their daughters held value. In truth, now all the families really did was help keep our identities and true nature from the light of truth. The brides from the other three bloodlines were really just incentive for the other bloodlines to behave and not induce the ire of my Lord Love.

With this new leverage over the Alexanders, we would be sure to have them under thumb once more. The only questionable matter is whether this girl was actually of the Alexander bloodline. I slowly stood from desk chair before leisurely gliding over to where Oliver stood.

“How exactly are you sure this so called long lost relative is truly of the Alexander bloodlines?” I asked, sweet sarcasm dripping from my voice.

“It was discovered through a DNA testing company that helps you discover people related to you.” He said, in excitement.

I nod as he finished speaking and waited on bated breath for my response, “Well, this is certainly a discovery. However, more research must be done into this girl. The Master must know as soon as possible, and I will be the one to inform him. Have you contacted this Evie?”

He shook his head and I nodded my approval. “Good. Make sure it remains so until I speak with my husband and he has decided what to do next. Only then will we commence with any plans.”

He gave me another idiotic smile and I gave a silent huff as I glared at him. “We shall be in touch very soon. You are dismissed.”

He bowed and quickly made way for the doors. I spun around to look out the enormous windows as my mind wanders off in thought.

‘Things are about to get a lot more difficult. This Evie was not raised like Viktoria, Lucy, and I. She is a different breed entirely, and certainly not one to be underestimated.’

Taglist: @dd122004dd​ @omgsuperstarg​ @crazy4books1​ @taetae123094​ @lychee02​ @liathelioness​

[havepatienceandendure]

Watching the west wing is insane bc i open conversations with ‘oh my god the vice president had an affair and accidentally shared state secrets and had to resign’ or ‘oh my god the president got stuck on air force one after a meeting in the philippines’ and people are like ‘is this in the news??????????’ And i’m like ‘oh. No. In this tv show about a fake american presidency’

[starlightscythe]

Raining in Manila

Greg Hirsch x f!Reader

Also includes an instagram!AU (idk what it's called but I added some insta interactions)

Plot: you're the Chief of Financials at Waystar Royco and also Logan's Goddaughter, tasked to go with Greg to the Philippines to check up on the xerox business, not knowing some budding feelings will grow along the way.

Warnings: stressed!reader, will add more later.

P.S: purely written for Greg. Fuck Nicholas Braun, man. What a prick.

"So you're half Filipino? All this time?" Greg asked, trailing you from behind. Pushing your heavy baggage cart as you walk with hands free, clutching your phone with your right hand.

"I am 1/4th Filipino, Greg. My grandma, Nerie is the Filipino. Lucky wife to my Grandpa, Victor whose a European." You explained, steps hasty as you walk towards the exit of the NAIA airport.

Greg tried to catch up with you as best as he can with his long legs, pushing the heavy cart with force to walk side by side with you.

You were sent here by Logan to check the Xerox copy machine side business and to evaluate the profit and if it's still considered to be operational by income standards. Waystar is apparently looking to cut their losses even if it means a thousand people would lose their job just to pay off Peirce.

"That's interesting. So you speak the language? B-because you know, what if we got lost and none of us speak the language? Google Translate isn't exactly eh- exact?" He pushes his hair back, adjusting the sleeve of his suit, "Is it normally this hot here?"

"I told you to lose the suit dumbass. It's a tropical country- and you know what-" You paused, stoping by a souvenir shop a saw an English-Tagalog Dictionary, "learn the language while we're here."

Quickly purchasing the book and throwing it at him which he catches clumsily mid-air.

The ride to your hotel was short, doesn't help that Greg was complaing about the tropical heat and how he's sweating underneath his suit.

"Honeymoon?" The Uber driver asked. Smiling at you and Greg from the rear view mirror.

"Uh- oh- no. No. Just work- work mates. Happy workmates" He laughed, "here for work."

"On valentines day?" The driver raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah, unfortunately." You replied, pulling your lips in a tight line as you message an unresponsive Roman about the hotel reservation.

Exiting the Uber and going straight to the hotel lobby whilst Greg was left alone to unload your bags from the trunk. A couple minutes of waiting for him, he finally emerges besides you, tapping your shoulder lightly.

"Oh, took you long enough. Show them the reservation." You spoke, returning your attention to your phone.

Greg stood there confuse, pushing his hair back and wiping his sweat from his forehead, "What reservation? I thought Roman sent it to you?"

"I thought he sent it you?!" You whispered to him, "well, call Kendall and have him sort this out."

"Is there a problem?" The receptionist finally arrived in front of you.

You quickly turned to her and smiled, "no. No. We're all good. He's just sorting out the reservation paper. Such a klutz, this one."

"Well, Ma'am if you just have a name for the reservation and an I.D I can verify it even without the papers." She assured you.

Rummaging through your bag as Greg tried calling Kendall behind you. Taking out your Waystar employee I.D and showing it to her.

"Can you try, (Y/N) Abberdon? I think my collegue might've put it under my name."

The receptionist typed for a bit and shook her head, "we don't have that name in the system Ma'am. Is there any name? Maybe under the name of your collegue?" She gestured to Greg.

Grabbing the man by the I.D which dangled from one of those laces with the retractable strings. "What- hey!" Greg exclaimed, hand still on the ringing phone.

"Try Gregory Hirsch?" You desperately looked at her. The woman did the same thing only to looked up at you once again and shook her head.

Mentally punching Roman in your head at this point, "Ok well, we don't have his I.D but, Roman Roy?"

"I see a Roman Roiland but no Roman Roy, miss. I am sorry."

"Oh my god," You backed away from the reception desk, "I am sorry- just give me a minute" Excusing yourself. The woman nodded her head and returns to her work.

You grabbed Greg by the arm and dragged him away from the desk, looking up at him for an answer.

"They won't call back. I tried Kendall, Shiv, and Roman." He panicked, "I could try Tom?"

"Then try Tom." You deadpanned, "I am going to call Roman. But keep calling whoever is in that flip phone of yours Greg or I will throw that ancient thing in the trash."

"No need to be stres-"

"Don't tell me what to do." You suddenly flipped out at him, making him flinch, "I am- I am sorry. I am just stressed, you're right. This is not big deal. If we can't reach out to any of them we'll just have to book it ourselves."

Greg nods, "yeah. Ok. I'll keep trying to call Tom."

A couple more minutes of you guys looking like anxious rats on your phone trying to contact everyone. Greg finally got a hold of Tom over the phone.

"Tom! Oh thank God. Listen I am- we- yes me and (Y/N)- we're stuck in the Philippines- yeah- can you just- Is Roman with you?- oh- right- uhuh- well, here." Greg hands the phone to you.

You took it out of his hand, "Jesus I forgot how these things work," Fiddling with the flip phone for a bit, "Hello? Tom? What the fuck is going on? Where the fuck is everyone?"

"Enjoying your vacation with my assistant? That you stole by the way. How dare you?!"

"We're not on vacation, dipshit. What's happening over there? We can't get a hold of everyone and we're stuck in another country with no hotel reservation."

"Oh yeah, well. There's been an emergency and Shiv just told me you guys might be stuck in there for another week or two because they're using the private jet to go to the bahamas."

"What the fuck?!" You exclaimed, quickly returning back to your normal tone, "well can you atleast have Roman call me b-"

The phone suddenly crackles and Roman's voice was heard though the phone, "hey god-sis. Yeah listen, I did an oopsie and I kinda forgot to put in a reservation..."

"What's happening...?" Greg tried to ask but your head was running a million miles per minute.

One thing you hated was when plans didn't go as planned and mostly being stucked in another country where you barely speak the language and your American Express might not work.

You raised your hand out of frustration, an attempt to throw Greg's phone onto the ground. But he was quick to catch your arm with his tall physique, snatching his phone out of your hand.

"He-hey. Ok. How about you sit and calm down. Ok?" He tries to comfort you, "I'll handle this. I know you're stressed out so just relax. Ok?"

You nodded, sitting by the nearby sofa of the hotel lobby. Frantically typing into your phone whilst running a hand onto your hair out of frustration.

"Yeah- ok- I can manage that. Ok. Thanks- bye" Greg ends the call and sat on the couch parallel to yours, "ok so, we'll book a hotel and have it on the company card. Shiv said we could do whatever we want for the next two weeks as an apology for your distress and inconvenience. So...there you go. Don't stress ok? Cause youre kinda freaking me out too."

Slowly nodding as you bit your lip, preventing yourself from laughing at the distressed Greg as he sighed and lean back onto the white sofa, putting his earphone on to calm himself down. You sneakily took a picture of him and posted it on Instagram.

"Well I'll just see if they have a spare room available." You pull a tight smile , touching his shoulder as you move past him. Greg gives a nod in response.

"Hey," You greeted the receptionist again, "looks like my collegue might've missed it in his brain to book a reservation, is there a room available for two weeks? Two room separately...preferrably for me and him" Pointing at Greg behind you.

The receptionist tuts as she tapped at her keyboard for a bit, looking appologetic up at you, "sorry, looks like we're all fully booked at the moment. That's normal for valentines Day- oh wait- we have an opening for a honeymoon suite... I am afraid that's the only room available."

"Oh..." You scrunched your face. Scratching the back of your head in frustration, "is there like...another hotel?"

"Well you can try the love hotel from across the street but at valentines week I am afraid all of the hotel right now are fully booked too, miss."

Glancing at your watch, it reads 6:37 pm. And the jet lag was getting to your system. Not really wanting to go out there and dragging Greg around the block you were forced to weigh your options.

"Does it have a couch atleast?"

"Yes ma'am. But I am afraid it only has one bathroom."

"That's fine." You sighed, taking out your business card, "just do it. We're way too tired."

The woman apologized again as she took your card before handing you two keycards for the room. Telling you that your bags will be delivered in your room shortly.

Dragging your feet back to where Greg was, you handed him the other key card by shoving it in his face. Greg took it and read;

"Honeymoon suite?" He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes

"Yeah, not alot of options at valentines day, buddy." You scoffed at him, "you're welcome to run around the block for a new hotel room. They're all fully booked apparently. and I am too tired to argue for separate room. So either suck it up or get out."

Greg grunts in annoyance, standing up and following you anyways.

You turn back at him, "there's a love hotel full of jizz across the street. You're welcome to that"

"Uhuh, and if I get sick because of it, you'd have to be Tom's assistant for as long as it takes."

"He wishes, Greg"

[judgemark45]

PHILIPPINE SEA (Feb. 24, 2024) A U.S. Air Force B-52 Stratofortress, attached to the 5th Bomb Wing, and aircraft attached to Carrier Air Wing (CVW) 11, fly in formation over the Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN 71), Feb. 24, 2024. Theodore Roosevelt, flagship of Carrier Strike Group Nine, is underway conducting routine operations in the U.S. 7th Fleet area of operations. U.S. 7th Fleet is the U.S. Navy’s largest forward-deployed numbered fleet, and routinely interacts and operates with allies and partners in preserving a free and open Indo-Pacific region. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Thomas