#i know technically he isn't from 'france'

[orkneyism]

this is how we all should start talking about lancelot i think

[anglerflsh]

Considering he was born just fourteen years after corsica got indipendence from Genoa in 1755 (and barely 15 months after France bought it in 1769 - the dates of acquisition from one republic to the state are a bit different) I'd say he himself was of italian descent at this point lol. It's also pretty obvious by looking at his surname but both his parents were born in italian-ruled Corsica

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 1

Hello! And welcome to this fun little fusion that I came up with here. If anyone can find the post about gay legal troubles after gay marriage was legalized (I think was originally about polyamory divorces) let me know so I can link here, too.

Summary: Eddie is a successful tattoo artist in Seattle and is engaged to be married to Chrissy. Only there is one problem. Well, technically three. You see, back before the Supreme Court ruled that gay marriage was a right and not a privilege Eddie had gotten married in a couple of different states to different people. But now that's it's legal, he's a bigamist and he has to get his exes to divorce him. Which is easy enough for two of the three, not so much for the third. You see the third just isn't just any ex, it's the ex. Steve Harrington. So now he has to go down to Hawkins and try to convince the person he thought he was going to spend his life with to divorce him. Something much easier said then done, especially when Eddie finds himself falling back in love.

EDDIE IS GAY IN THIS BUT THERE ARE REASONS OKAY!

****

Eddie��s life was good. Let it be said that it was really good. He knew that. But he had regrets. Didn’t everyone?

He regretted how his band broke up. It wasn’t his fault, but he hadn’t seen the cracks when they had started to show. He hadn’t seen how tired Jeff was getting or how fucked Gareth was. He hadn’t seen that Brian was only phoning it in every night.

So when it all fell apart after a concert in Seattle, he was left holding the pieces of his band and his broken heart. He had gotten a job as a tattoo apprentice and had worked really hard to get his own chair.

He had friends. Good ones. Jeff had stayed in Seattle, too. Gareth had gone into rehab and had moved to a small village in the south of France. Brian had gotten married and moved back to Indiana where he became a teacher and lived a quiet life. The life he had always wanted.

Then there was Chrissy. He loved her so much. They had met when she came into the tattoo parlor to get a tattoo covered. She wanted to cover the name of her ex-boyfriend with a purple violet. Eddie had smiled at her when she asked.

It was some of his best work, if he was honest.

She was a legal assistant that had just gotten her paralegal degree and was trying to get a work visa.

She had come over to the USA from Barbados. A little island country in the Caribbean.

He didn’t know how she could stand living in damp Seattle after being born on sun-soaked shores under glistening palm trees. But Chrissy was adamant that she loved being in Washington where it rained almost all the time.

Eddie was on a mission. One that he had sworn to Chrissy that he would do today.

He walked into the county clerk’s office and applied for a marriage license for him and Chrissy.

“I’m sorry Mr. Munson,” the clerk told him, “but our records show that you have not one, not two but three marriages in three different states.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide.

“What?” He would remember that, surely.

“To a William Hargrove in Hawaii, a Thomas M. Hagan in New York, and Steven J. Harrington in Massachusetts,” the woman said, holding up her reading glasses in front of her face to read off the list.

“But those were only legal in the state they were preformed in, right?” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

The woman shook her head. “Not since the Supreme Court ruled that it was legal for gays to get married. It’s cause a lot of trouble for a lot you people, let me tell you.”

Eddie knocked his knuckle on the counter and licked his lips. “Shit.”

She grimaced sympathetically. “I’m sorry, but before you can get a marriage license in the state of Washington, you’ll have to provide divorce decrees from all three of your exes.”

Eddie pounded on the counter this time with his open palm. “Thanks.”

He walked away and he heard her call out, “Next!”

Shit, shit, shit.

This was going to be hell, he could feel it.

****

Chrissy had fast food waiting for him when he got home from work.

“Did you get the license?” she asked, handing him his food and drink.

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “No, because stupid gay marriage legalization made all gay marriages legal, no matter what state you preformed them in.”

“Oh.”

She sat down hard. “So your three marriages suddenly count?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmured. “I don’t even know where any of them are. Like I assume Steve’s still in Hawkins, because he’d never leave, but the other two? I have no fucking idea.”

She patted him on the shoulder and said, “We’ll find a way. The law firm has investigators on staff for this very reason. It might take a while, but we’ll find them.

Eddie nodded. “I’m sorry.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and sat down on his lap. “I’m not. You didn’t know. Otherwise you would have taken care of it when Obergefell v. Hodges went through the Supreme Court.”

Eddie nodded, but he pursed his lips, his hands up around her waist to hold her steady.

“Let’s just eat and I’ll start work on it tomorrow,” she murmured. “Okay?”

“Mmk,” he muttered.

****

Three weeks later, Eddie had in hand two of the three annulments. Billy had sent his back with a little note that said, “With pleasure.” Tommy had merely sent his back without comment.

That was a relief. He was no longer bound to either of those two assholes. He wasn’t even sure what possessed him to marry them in the first place.

Well, okay. He did. He was far away from home, lonely and willing to connect with anyone who would fuck him.

He was getting ready to call Chrissy to her the good news when the phone rang under his hand.

Eddie frowned at it for a moment, before he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” the familiar voice sounded through the cell phone.

“This is he,” he replied, still confused.

“If you want to divorce me, you asshole,” Steve spat, “then have the fucking courage to tell me to my face.”

“Steve?” Eddie asked, his confusion still there, but for a different reason now. How did he get his number?

“Yeah,” Steve hissed. “Remember me? The man you left for fame and fortune? How is that going, by the way?”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “You know full well we broke up, I know Dustin still talks to you.”

He could hear Steve snap his fingers. “That’s right. You broke up. And until you tell me to my face you want to do the same, you take your annulment and shove it up your ass.”

“Stevie...” Eddie pleaded.

“Don’t ‘Stevie’ me,” Steve growled. “Fuck you.”

And the phone went dead then Eddie turned his phone around to see that yes, Steve had disconnected the call.

“Fuck.”

****

Eddie called Chrissy with the news. Two yeses and a ‘fuck you’.

“All right, Ed,” she said. “There is more to this than you’ve been telling me, so you are coming over to my apartment with the annulments you got and you are going to spill. Capeesh?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she huffed and then hung up.

Looked like today was hang up on Eddie day. He sat down at the table both annulments spread out in front of him and buried his head in his hands.

After a few minutes of allowing himself to break down, he picked up the papers and grabbed his keys, wallet, and cell phone.

Time to face the music.

****

Chrissy opened the door with a scowl, but softened when she saw how miserable Eddie looked.

He handed her the annulments and she put them her bag to take to work so that they could be filed with county clerk.

“Tell me about Steve Harrington.”

So Eddie did.

He told her about how they had bonded over a bunch of kids. Kids Steve had used to babysit, but once they got into high school came under Eddie’s wing as leader and DM of the D&D club called The Hellfire Club. How they had gotten together and when Massachusetts made it legal, him, Steve, Jeff, and Steve’s best friend Robin all drove out to Boston and Steve and he got married in a little court house.

“My Uncle Wayne was pissed he wasn’t there,” Eddie said. “But it was spur of the moment thing. We drove all night and got there that afternoon. We put on little suits and let the judge say his words.”

“That sounds sweet, so what happened?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Gareth graduated from high school and we got an offer to record an album in New York.”

“Why didn’t he go with you?” she asked gently.

Eddie rubbed his nose. “Because the kids still had two years left of school. He wanted to be there for them. A couple of them didn’t have good home lives and he wanted to make sure they had someone they could count on. We fought about it. Hard.”

“I’m sorry, cher,” she whispered giving his arm a squeeze.

“God,” Eddie said, his voice cracking. “The things we said to each other. It was bad, Chris.”

“And now he won’t sign the papers?” she asked.

He shook his head. “He told me the only way he’d sign anything is I came back to Hawkins and handed it to him myself.”

Chrissy nodded. “All right,” she said, “here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to get a proper divorce degree written up, making sure it’s worded so he knows you won’t be going after any assets he has and then you are taking a week off of work and going down there and facing him. Because holy fucking hell, Ed, he deserves some kind of closure as do you.”

Eddie let out a heartbreaking sigh. “I don’t know if I can face him, Chris. God, I put everything else before him and broke his heart. He always wanted this big wedding. A beautiful reception where all our friends and loved ones were there. A beautiful grey morning jacket with a proper boutonniere and saying his vows across from the one he loved. And instead he got an empty court house and broken promises from a screw up like me.”

She wrapped her arms around him and let him sob into her shoulder.

“Which is why you need to go down there and give him that closure,” she murmured, “so that he can have all that with someone else. Someone who isn’t afraid.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, just let me know when it’s ready and I’ll take one of my vacation weeks to go to Hawkins, Indiana.”

Chrissy winced. “Maybe don’t sound like you’re going to your funeral, yeah?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned he was going to a funeral. Maybe not his own, but the death of the first real relationship he ever had and if somehow he made it out alive, he was never going to be the same again.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

[crunchwrapsnoopy]

Promposals [Touya Todoroki x Reader]

˙⋆✮🪩As long as I look fly by prom night!🪩✮⋆˙

"Promise to get a little better as I get older. And you're so patient and sick of waitin" Prom - Sza

High school Senior Prom AU of my fav villain ◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠

HS! Semi-Normal! Dabi x F. Reader

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

WC: 1008

"Soo..." my best friend, Mina, started with a coy smirk, "anyone ask you to prom yet?" She nudges my arm, obviously hinting at my boyfriend.

I shake my head, adjusting the books in my arms. "Nah, I probably won't go anyway. Seems like a waste of time, not to mention money."

"It's our senior year! You're acting like your parents aren't loaded," she scoffs, clearly unimpressed by my excuse. "And really? I thought for sure Dabi would've asked you by now. You guys have been dating for, what, five months?"

"Yeah, I thought he would too, but it's whatever. He's just not really into stuff like prom." I shrug, knowing my boyfriend is the definition of lowkey. Honestly, I’m sure he thinks going to prom would mess with his carefully crafted 'mysterious bad boy' nonchalant vibe.

Her eyes widen happily as an idea forms. "I'm sure Kiri wouldn't mind if you tagged along with us!"

I give her a look. Her boyfriend, Kiri, is very outwardly lovey-dovey, and there's no way he'd be okay with sharing Mina on prom night. She catches the look in my eyes and immediately reads my mind.

"Yeah, you're right. Bad idea," she admits, rolling her eyes.

"Very," I agree. "You two have fun, though. I gotta head home and study for that econ quiz."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you'll have just as much fun with that," she jokes, giving my arm a playful pat before waving goodbye.

I wave back and head out of the school, walking toward my house, which is a short distance away in the suburbs. Normally, I'd ride home with Dabi in his sexy black Mustang, but he skipped today, which, knowing him, isn't too uncommon.

I unlock my empty house—my parents are in France on business, so I’ve been left to die. Well, technically  they left me to "fend for myself," but it's basically the same thing. I kick off my shoes and head upstairs to my room, changing into some comfy lounge clothes before flopping onto my bed. I open my laptop and pull up my economics notes, trying to get through the material, but after a while, I realize I have no idea what the hell an "invisible hand" is.

I lean back against the pillows and let my eyes close. Studying is overrated anyway.

I woke up to the blaring sound of my phone alarm to take my vitamins that I had already taken earlier, but the alarm still ran incase I forgot. I groggily rolled over and squinted at the screen, still half-dazed from my nap. The time read 6:15 PM. Great. I’d fallen asleep for way too long. I rubbed my eyes, stretching as I sat up. My laptop was still open with economics notes, but the words blurred together like they were written in a foreign language. Ugh.

I pushed it aside and glanced at the clock again. Dabi would usually text me around this time, or he'd show up randomly at my door, leaning against the frame with that smirk of his. But today... nothing.

Sighing, I grabbed my phone, half-expecting another generic message from my mom or dad asking if I'm alive. But instead, there was a text from Mina.

Mina: "You sure you're not going to prom? Think about it! You'd look so hot in a dress, and I'm sure Dabi would change his mind n suck it up if you rly wanted to go. If he doesn't, still come and I'll make sure Kiri brings his best friend, so you’re not stuck third wheeling!"

I snorted at the part about Kiri's best friend. Mina's boyfriend has two best friends, Bakugo, who is painfully hostile, and Kaminari, who is super enthusiastic but also a little too much of a pervert, I'm not interested in either of those personalities. Either way, I have a boyfriend that I'm pretty exclusies with, and don't feel like pissing him off.

But the thought of prom? Of dressing up, of being surrounded by everyone else—feeling normal, like everyone else for a night—was kind of tempting. Even though I pretended not to care, I always wondered what it’d be like to go, to have that experience.

I stared at my phone for a moment, texting back:

Me: "I don’t know. It feels like too much of a hassle. You really think Dabi would go if I asked?"

There was a long pause before she replied.

Mina: "If u ask him? fat chance... But if you rly wanna go, I'll help u ask him!"

I could already hear her upbeat, enthusiastic tone in my head. It was like she was daring me to do it, challenging me to take that step.

I locked my phone, rolling my eyes as I flopped back onto my bed, already overthinking everything. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me kind of wanted to ask Dabi. Maybe he’d surprise me. But then again, maybe he'd just shrug it off and tell me he wasn’t into it, and I’d be left feeling stupid for even thinking it was a possibility.

Maybe I’d just let it go.

But a part of me couldn't stop wondering: what would it feel like to go with someone who actually cared enough to make the night special?

Just as I was starting to drift off again, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Dabi ❤︎: "You still up?"

I smiled to myself, feeling a little lighter. At least he hadn’t forgotten about me today.

Me: "Yeah, what’s up? :)" Dabi ❤︎: "Look outside." 

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking as I looked at my phone. Then, without thinking too much, I got up from my bed and walked over to my window. My heart nearly dropped when I first saw the fire—until my eyes caught the message the flames had formed.

"PROM?"

A laugh bubbled up from my chest, and I couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. Running downstairs, I grabbed some slippers and hurried outside.

"Yes! But you really need to put this out!" I called out, smiling wide as I watched him casually stand next to the fire, hands in his pockets, looking like he hadn’t just used his quirk to set the entire front yard ablaze.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

[reaperlight]

[Murder friends polycule meets the family...]

Mary Brock: Wait... all of you are dating my baby brother?

Felicia: Yep!

Mary [awkward]: I see.. So... uh, how did you... all of you meet?

Cletus: In prison. :)

Frances: He crashed our wedding.

Felicia: When Cletus dragged his corpse in.

Venom: He has delicious organs!

Mary: What the fuck?

Eddie: I swear it's not as bad as it sounds. I was in prison interviewing Cletus for the paper, I wasn't arrested.

Mary: I found that less concerning... Organs? Corpse?

Eddie: ...I got better.

Carnage: For what it's worth, I'm not dating him because humans get weird about that. Mine are Cletus and Frances. I just like to watch... And sometimes help.

Mary: ...Excuse me but what even are these things?

Carnage: Hmmm, rude!

Eddie: Let me try. This [referring to Venom] is my husband. And these are our friends.

Felicia: Friends... with benefits.

Cletus: Yes, there are many benefits to being our friends! :)))

Eddie: Yes they're our friends who help us kill Eldritch horrors. And definitely do not try to kill us.

Venom: Nailed it!

Frances: That is one of the benefits. As is sex.

Eddie [groaning]: Come on...

Frances: You're not embarrassed of us are you, Eddie?

Eddie: No. Of course not but she's not gonna understand...

Frances: Let me try. Cletus is my husband, Carnage is our partner. Eddie and Venom are married and are our special friends, and Felicia is my special friend and brain buddy from when we were kidnapped by the government together!

Mary: Half the time I can't tell if you are joking or not... Do I even want to know what the red one was talking about humans getting weird?

Venom: Well, because Carnage is our daughter--

Mary: What?!

Venom: Spawned asexually from me of course but if you wanna get technical in bonding Eddie and I do share DNA. As does Carnage with her host. So she has some human in her, just as I do.

Felicia: In you, huh?

Cletus: Literally and figuratively!

Frances: Hey Carnage, does that mean Mary is your auntie?

Mary: [*looking between the red monster and her brother in shock and horror*]

Carnage: See? They're getting weird about it. We spawn asexually. We don't have your taboos. On the comet we wouldn't even be considered related...

Mary: This isn't a comet.

Carnage: ...If we didn't want to. We choose our families. Decide what Hive we want to belong to. I want to. We are family, despite the initial abandonment and... unpleasantness.

Venom: You know most of the time we don't even know when we spawn to avoid eating each other.

Carnage: ...I see. In any case I truly do not mind when our hosts screw. In fact, I encourage it. It's a free meal. It makes our human hosts release those chemicals that depressed gray matter of yours is so loathe to produce.

Venom: And it's not like our hosts are related. Cletus became the host for our offspring when he took in our genetic material...

Cletus: ...Okay now you're making it sound like you knocked me up.

Venom: Because we did.

Mary: ...

Cletus: ...

Eddie: ...technically that was before we were screwing.

Cletus: Yeah, that was just a little light cannibalism.

Mary: Please tell me you're joking? You're not joking, are you?

Eddie: ...Sorry.

Mary: Just... I need a moment here.

Eddie: So like... we heard you're getting married and wanted me to be here and bring my "special someone" so how exactly does this--

Mary [facepalming]: It was supposed to be a +1.

[softspeirs]

gosh, these prompts are just so fluffy, it makes me want to cry! 🥹

maybe these for whoever you're feeling in the moment:

❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜

❛ seeing you happy is all that matters. ❜

A/N: First, you asked for this so long ago, I'm sorry it took so long! I wanted to explore a lil reunion for Rosie and Grace after (one of the times) his plane goes down and he makes it back. I did a smidge of research for this, but to be clear, this isn't the time he lands in Russia that we see in the show. This is an earlier mission where he crash lands in France - p422 (? I think?) in Masters of the Air if you want to read more. I tweaked the dialogue of that second prompt just a tiny bit, hope that's okay. These Heartbeats Clear Masterlist

Seven. Wounded.

When Robert Rosenthal opens his eyes, for a moment he doesn't remember where he is. There's a brief unsettling moment of sheer panic where he tries to get his bearings, tries to sit up and tries to remember what's happened to him in the last 48 hours.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down." A voice says. American. He sighs in relief.

An unfamiliar worried face swims into his vision. "Major Rosenthal?"

"What--" His throat hurts, his entire body hurts, and he stops trying to talk.

"You've been asleep for almost two days."

"Where am I?"

"Please, try to relax. You're safe. You're in Oxford."

Now that he hears the words, he remembers loud, urgent voices, he remembers flashing lights and the feeling of being manhandled around. It doesn't do much to quell the fear rising in his gut. "My crew."

"They're fine. Some wounded, but everyone's going to be okay." She moves around the bed with quick, sure steps, checking his chart before meeting his eyes again. "You've got a broken arm and a few broken ribs, Major. Now that you're awake, we'd just like to monitor you for a few hours and then we can talk about a transport back to your base."

He nods, thanking her, and she smiles before disappearing down a corridor, leaving him to his thoughts. His mind is slow, fuzzy, but there's one thought blaring like an alarm louder than anything else - he needs to find a way to call Grace.

He swore to her a long time ago that he'd never give her a reason to think he wasn't coming back. He has no idea if anyone knows he and his crew are here.

He also has a panicked thought that he won't be able to fly again, not if they were helped the French resistance. He forces himself to take deep breaths and tries to beat back the anxiety fluttering in his ribcage.

"Rosie?" A familiar voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he tries to sit up before pain laces up his spine, making him wince.

"Croz?"

Harry's worried face peeks around the curtain. "Jesus." He says, making Rosie wonder what he must look like.

"What are you doing here?"

"We got a call. Wasn't going to let you guys walk back to Thorpe Abbotts, was I?" He takes a few steps closer, scraping a chair closer to the bed before sitting down. He looks exhausted. "I volunteered to come get you."

"How long--"

"It's been five days since the mission." Harry rubs a hand over his face. "Can't begin to tell you how lucky you were, Rosie."

It starts to hit him, how close he was to not coming back. He doesn't even remember the plane going down, not entirely. He has no memory of being rescued. He feels strangely guilty. He's the one that's supposed to lead and help his crew when he can.

"Have you talked to a doctor?" Harry asks.

Rosie shakes his head. "Not yet, just a nurse. Obviously I can't do much with this--" He struggles to shrug with his injured arm in a sling.

"It'll be fine. Desk duty until you're well."

"Croz, you know I hate--"

"You can't fly like that, Rosie. Technically you should be pulled from duty altogether."

Rosie clenches his jaw, takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. It's not Harry's call, even though he knows he's right. He's going to do everything he can to get back in the seat again, even if he has to get demoted to do it.

.

He discharges himself so he can leave with his crew and with Crosby and hitch a ride back to base. The doctor fixes him with a stern look as he does it, but he must see the determination on Rosie's face, and just tells him to take it easy for the next few weeks.

Fat chance of that.

"Stop looking at me like that." He grouses to Harry as they bounce along the road back to Thorpe Abbotts, Rosie biting back a wince with grit teeth as the road jostles his muscles uncomfortably.

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

Harry has long stopped trying to convince Rosie of anything, just like Rosie has stopped trying to tell him to get more sleep or eat more. They're all just doing whatever they can to survive at this point. The cost of it all is secondary.

"I'll save the lecture for Grace." He mutters.

Rosie's head snaps up. "Is she--"

"Worried sick? Probably, but you know her. Once she knew you were alive, she went from worried to furious."

"Not like I had any say in the matter," Rosie counters, voice dry. "Didn't try asking them not to shoot at us, though."

Harry smiles, shaking his head. "You know what I mean. Angry at the circumstances. Frustrated with herself for being emotional. That's Grace."

That's Grace. And isn't that the truth. Rosie can't help but smile softly, because he knows Harry is right - he's going to get an earful when he gets back. But he must be a masochist, because he's almost looking forward to it - it means she cares. Not that he's ever had any reason to doubt that.

The truck rumbles along for miles. Rosie hadn't thought about how long it would take them to get back to the base, but he tries to close his eyes and get relatively comfortable until they arrive.

He hears the noise of the gates and opens his eyes to find the sun nearly down. There's a big commotion as they enter and he takes a deep breath to try to get his bearings.

"We'll go to command first, and then to the infirmary. You'll probably have to sleep there." Harry says groggily.

They're let out in front of the command building, Jack Kidd already there waiting for him along with the Colonel. Both look like they haven't slept in days. A few paces behind them is Grace, and the sight of her softens Rosie, makes his shoulders lose their tension. He meets her eyes and tries for a smile, but he thinks it comes off as more of a grimace.

Grace, for her part, is restraining herself. She feels a mixture of relief and anger wash over her at the sight of him, arm in a sling and bruises and cuts littering his handsome face. He looks exhausted, and she's sure she looks much the same.

She knows being angry is the wrong thing. It's not his fault he got shot down, after all. Really, she's angry at herself. She's angry at her heart, at the way it plummeted to her feet when she heard the news that his plane didn't come back, and she's angrier that every day since confirms to her what she already knows: she's in love with him.

And that's as terrifying as it is liberating, because there's a very real chance he could break her heart, whether he means to or not. (She knows that Robert Rosenthal doesn't have a cruel bone in his body, but sometimes, in war, the choice isn't his)

"Jesus Christ, Rosie." Jack says quietly, voice heavy. "I--" He takes a deep breath, and seems to remember what he needs to do. "It's good to see you back. We need to go to interrogation."

"The crew isn't ready--"

Kidd shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Rosie, but the quicker we do this, the better. It's already been a few days."

"Who's back?"

"Maddox, Rubick, Palmer, and Hartos. The others won't be back until tomorrow, but we'll debrief them then. I don't want to wait an extra day."

Jack looks over his shoulder, and Rosie is sure he catches an apologetic look on his face that's there and gone quickly as he sees Grace there. "Twenty minutes, then go to the infirmary." He says as he turns back to Rosie. "Let's go."

The interrogation is as grueling as Rosie expected. He's glad to see some of the members of his crew again. Despite his brain telling him that none of this is his fault, his heart can't help but beat wildly, flooding him with guilt as they give their account of what happened after they went down, when Rosie was knocked unconscious.

It feels like hours before he's trudging towards the infirmary, luckily only a few steps away from the interrogation hut.

The door is opening before he arrives, and Grace's worry-filled face fills his vision. "Grace." Her name leaves his mouth without his permission, his tone exhausted, but full of emotion.

She swallows hard. "Major." Her tone is relieved and... frustrated. He's not surprised, but he hopes she'll spare him Nurse Grace and instead give him the Grace he's been dreaming of for days, though he knows it's selfish, knows that she has a job to do.

He sees the doctor hovering behind her. She opens the door wider so he can come through.

All he wants is to be alone with her. He wants to tell her he's sorry, he wants to tell her that she was on his mind every second, that she is one of the reasons not only that he gets in the seat, but the reason he comes home.

Home.

The exam is quick, thankfully. They took good care of him in Oxford. The doctor leaves Grace to administer pain meds and do the paperwork, and it's only when they're finally alone that he sees the emotion on her face, though she's trying valiantly to hide it.

With each injury she catalogues, her face hardens. Her eyes meet his as she tilts his face up to dab a cooling salve on a bruise forming on his orbital bone.

"You have a look on your face." He says quietly.

"What, I'm not allowed to look at you?" She asks, and he can see how she's trying so hard to hold it together. Pretending. Pretending this is all business for her. He wishes she wouldn't.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, throat dry from overuse.

"Please don't apologize," she says, expression suddenly stricken, as if she realizes what she must look and sound like. "You didn't--" She stops herself, eyes closing for a moment as she gathers her professionalism. "I'm just so relieved you're alive." She whispers. "I'm not angry at you. I'm upset... I'm angry at the war. At these circumstances. That you're hurt--" She stops herself.

He wishes more than anything he had the use of both his arms. He settles for reaching out with one hand, thankful when she doesn't hesitate to take it, lacing their fingers together.

"I never want you to worry." He says, and it's the truth, even though they both know it's pointless.

She shrugs. "Comes with the territory, Major." She squeezes his hand. Her voice lowers to a whisper. "Worry happens naturally when you love someone."

His pulse pounding in his ears is all he can hear. He feels like the world tilts on its axis and then rights itself, all at once.

"Maybe it's too soon or too big for me to say it, but I don't want you to fly ever again without knowing it." She says, voice strong this time. He loves her for it.

He loves her.

He tugs her a little closer and she seems to understand, her face softening as she stands as close as she can, leaning down to meet him halfway. He tries to tell her how he feels when he kisses her gently, mindful of the black eye he's sure he's sporting and the soreness of his cheekbone. His hand leaves hers in favor of cradling her jaw, and the sigh that leaves her is music to his ears.

"Of course I love you." He murmurs, barely a centimeter between them when they break apart. "Probably have for a long time, Grace."

She pulls herself away, just for a moment, and starts to tidy up the triage area where he sits with her. He recognizes what she's doing and gives her the space she needs to gather herself, to come to terms with whatever she needs to. He's relieved at least that the smile hasn't left her face.

"Winning this war and seeing you happy are just about all that matter to me anymore." He admits, and watches as she stops what she's doing to turn back to face him.

"I just want to be sure I'm not a distraction for you."

He shakes his head. "No."

"Rosie, I'm--"

He shakes his head again, cutting her off. "Grace, you don't think I'm going to let you tell me you love me and then push me away, do you?" He tilts his head to one side.

"That's not what I'm doing. I promise."

"Then come over here and let me kiss you again."

She smiles, and he swears to himself that he's going to be responsible for that smile on her face every day, for as long as he can help it. He has no doubt that they have some trials ahead, but they have each other, and sometimes the will of the heart is stronger than anything else.

[lopposting]

Some more Lies of P translation notes!

Some cool translation details that I thought were fun that didn't fit anywhere else.

[long!]

[Spoilers]

In the Korean version, Geppetto is speaking an "old-fashioned"/archaic form of Korean to reflect the time period that the game is set in

Set around the turn of the century (late 1800s), mimicking the Belle Époque of France's industrial revolution, we can guess that the game's events take place during the late 1800s. Given Geppetto's status as "old geezer", we can guess that he's closer to 100 than not, so he would have been born around the early 1800s. I might not be completely accurate - basically, he's speaking as an elderly person might speak in current time to culturally reflect his age; other times I notice he's using some words that are now out of use.

From the game's initial trailer:

깨어나거라, 아들아. 이제 이 아비를 기쁘게 해다오. Wake up, son. Make this father happy/proud.

The word he uses for "father" is "Abi" (아비), which is an archaic word for "father". In current day, korean speakers would generally use "Abeoji" (아버지).

The -gura(거라)/-DaOh(다오) conjugation is also an additional syllable that has since fallen out of use, or is considered archaic, in current korean:

아들아, 네 심장을 다오. Son, give me your heart.

하지만 알아 다오, 나는 너도 사랑했단다. But know this, I loved you too. English VA version: In my own way, I grew to love you.

This is also apparent in Geppetto's final letter at the end:

우릴 방해할 자는 이제 없을 거란다. 너를 위한 크라트를 다시 만들어주마. (-juma, Supposedly, only a "superior" speaker can use -juma) 그때까지 호텔에 조심해서 머물러 다오. 너를 누구보다도 아끼는 아버지가.

He also uses the -Oh ending again. (although he does call himself "Abeoji" 아버지 here and not "abi" like the trailer. He uses "Abi" again in another instance when responding to a guesture)

It's a very cool detail to me. I think it's a bit missed opportunity that, as far as I know, the english version doesn't seem to reflect this! Although to be fair, I'm struggling to imagine how they would. 19th century english/french maybe isn't as different or isn't different in the same ways from "modern" english that 19th century Korean would be from "modern" Korean. [Well, my only education on this stuff is from watching episodes of Dae Jang Geum]. I haven't checked to see if any other character (like Antonia) speaks this way. [Pls message me if Geppetto also speaks like this in your or any other language version!!]

Lies of P, Blood, puns, and the P-Organ

The P-Organ, in Korean, is referred to as the P기관. 기관 (gi-gwan), however, doesn't necessarily correlate directly to the word "Organ": It's quite an interesting word to choose because it can refer to any system of moving parts, both organic or mechanical; and it can mean an organ, a machine, or even a governmental body or institute.

As you may have heard by now, the game's titular pun revolves around the fact that the english character for P sounds the word for "blood" in korean (피), making the title (P의 거짓 P-ie Geojit?) read like Lies of Blood, in a nutshell. The title Lies of Blood then fits into the becoming-real flesh-and-blood themes of the game, perhaps also suggests that the deception in Krat has cost the lives of many - and, of course, references the lying of the titular character, who is inferred to be none other than (P)inocchio! So, in Korean, the P-Organ (P기관) becomes something like the Blood Engine. Which rather sounds like a euphemism for a heart!

[Perhaps: It's also a bit of narrative that Geppetto refuses to refer to it as our heart, unless he refers to it as belonging to Carlo.]

In English, this wordplay no longer exists, and so it's rather awkwardly literally translated (as the P-Organ).

How do you say, "NEOWIZ"?

I've seen a few people ask about the pronunciation of NEOWIZ (Lies' publishing company). Hangul is phonetic, so you could (technically) say the official pronunciation of NEOWIZ (네오위즈) is Nae-Oh Wiz and not Neo (like the Matrix character) -wiz.

However [in my opinion], I don't think this matters, because when something is translated to another language, it often takes the pronunciation of the language it is read in. Kind of like how in english you would read the capital of France correctly as Paris (with an S sound at the end), and not "Pari" (french pronunciation).

Also, Krat is consistently pronounced by in-game characters as "Krot" (Long O, rhymes with "Cot" or "Not") in the english version. In the game korean releases, "Krat" is written as 크라트, which would be pronounced and read as "Krat" (short A, rhymes with "Rat" or "Cat").

[I think the devs also say "Krat" too. The rounder "O" pronunciation of "A" in words seem like more of a European pronunciation in general]

The "Youngest of the Black Rabbit Brotherhood" and Gender

In Korean culture, Age is particularly significant in both Korean social hierarchy and language, and the role/position of being the youngest in a group is a particular role known as being the "maknae" (I mean, I definitely think this also exists in the western world, people definitely would understand being the "youngest" one in your family, but it's slightly different from that).

Despite being a member of the brotherhood, she refers to her brothers as "Oppa", which is when the word "brother" is used by female speakers to an older male subject (Remember Gangnam style?) [A male speaker would use "Hyung". I debated putting this one in, because to me, it seemed kind of obvious, but I did see others asking about this.]

[Given that the developers are from a korean studio, I am choosing to believe that the subtitles provided by the game's "korean" version are the text/script as originally written intended by the developers!]

[piratefern]

okay so basically about your AU it's great but I honestly don't understand why scp 049 left scp 035 alone and what's with briefcase? *confused noise* I'm quite confused I do understand some things but some things are quite confusing to understand there backstory I will appreciate if you explains to meh clearly (*°∀°)=3

Hey :D! Thankyou for your ask :3

Basically, to understand the briefcase you’ll need a bit of context first :3

SPOILER WARNING (technically, im hopefully making them a youtube shorts series once ive finished with my main project, but we’ll see :3)

Hasel (or 049 :3) comes from 1340’s france. He had a wife and a daughter who both caught the black death. He was working as a doctor at the time, and tried everything he could to save them, but they died. His daughter’s dying wish was for him to live, which cursed him to live forever altering his form to something resembling a crow, the omen of death.

In this sense he is now a monster (or anomalous if you prefer) and now portrays more birdlike traits :D

So with this in mind, he feels incredibly guilty. He feels as though the deaths of his wife and child are entirely his fault because he couldn’t cure them.

This guilt manifests itself into a caricature of his wife, where she taunts and tortures him within his mind in a place known as the grey dimension (seen in my earlier birdsong project)

when he gets lost inside the grey dimension (more or less lost in guilt) his physical body turns to auto pilot, and will hunt down anything obstructing his path to “the cure”. This is the monstrous form we see :D

The caricature also produces a black vine, which is my au’s version of the pestilence :D He can see this everywhere, he believed it infects people, and he believes he must find the cure for it in order to redeem himself (this isn’t true, especially because this vine isn't actually real)

CONTEXT OVER

right, so Hasel meets dyo (or 035 :D) in 1601. They travel together and eventually fall in love :3 Hasel slowly becomes happier now that hes learning how to enjoy life, and continues his journey to find a “cure”, unaware that its staring him in the face, Dyo, who helps him to forgive and tackle his past, whether unintentional or not.

Eventually their story leads up into 1916, during the first world war. Battles, despite their nature, are an efficient way for Hasel to research the dead whilst avoiding killing where he can.

He had almost hurt dyo by accident after his monstrous form takes him over, and the vine was telling him that he was in the way, that dyo was stopping him from reaching the cure.

At this point something had been building up inside of him. It was a sense of dread, a feeling that something bad was going to happen.

And there it was. He looks over no-man’s land and all he can see is death. He can’t take it anymore, and that night he runs, scared of hurting his lover and scared of “failing” those from his past.

(…)

The briefcase however? Its not too important :3 Its a way for him to carry his supplies and it changes to keep up to date with the time period :3 He left it behind so dyo would know he’s gone. Dyo had also had this impending sense of dread, he felt deep down that something like this might happen, but he desperately tried his best to ignore it. So now he’s searching for hasel, the only person in his life who could never leave him, the only one who wouldn’t die.

So yeah thats it in basic terms :3 (after hasel leaves the caricature of his wife is replaced with a manifestation of dyo, masks comedy and tragedy and a mix of the two as it shows how his guilt has become more complex over time :3)

(Once he gets captured by the foundation the back of his cloak is branded with the logo)

any more questions lmk :3

I haven’t shared much on dyo since this was mainly a hasel focused question so if anyone’s curious about that then be my guest to drop an ask whenever :D He isn’t as built up but I do definitely have ideas for him :3

[liebgottsjumpwings]

AUGUST AFTERNOON | FAYE FISCHER | MASTERS OF THE AIR

Summary: Faye Fischer and her newly acquired friend Ken Lemmons spend a sunny afternoon at Thorpe Abbotts, Faye thinks about the past few years and is then (not so) rudely interrupted by a certain curly haired pilot. Who had managed to make her blush several times some days ago.

Warnings: general war violence, implied minor (and not canon) character death.

Word count: a bit over 2500

Note: this was meant to be a little less than 1k word blurb, turned into way more. I hope it isn't too boring as most of it delves into Faye's experiences before the mota canon. That is also because I use my ocs to study certain historical events, so this really is just self indulgence. Please pretty please let me know what you think of it! (This fic is also posted on AO3)

AUGUST 21, 1943, 16:32 

“What kind of name is ‘Just-a-Snappin’ even?” Faye Fischer wondered out loud, only half expecting an answer from the man in front of her as she came to sit up from her lying position in the grass. She squinted, just about able to make out the text on the B-17 Ken Lemmons was working on. Her squint disappeared as he came into her sight, blocking the warm ray of sunshine she had been enjoying moments prior, her eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “You’re gonna have to ask Blakely that one,” answered the curly haired man standing in her sun. Looking at him, she wondered why he would hide those curls under that beanie. Probably so all that working grease wouldn’t get into it. 

Faye shrugged, letting herself fall back into the grass. “Whenever I ask Blakely a question, the man answers with a goddamn riddle,” she let the end of her sentence continue into a sigh. Ken just laughed, his hands firm on his hips. The sun made the edge of his curls shine, almost like an aureole. Visually, him standing in her sun wasn’t so bad, it looked quite pretty. Her skin was starting to miss the warmth of the sun rays, though. Faye’s fingertips tapped on the cap of her camera lens, the Contax II had been laying on her stomach, under one of Ken’s work rags, to shield it from the sun. “Keep standing like that,” Faye ordered him as she removed the cap from the lens, turning on her camera. 

“Aren’t you only supposed to use that for… you know… work purposes?” she heard him ask as she fiddled with the exposure settings. A scoff escaped past her lips as she lined up the viewfinder with her left eye. “Shut up, they made me pay for my own film rolls when I arrived in England, so they’re mine technically anyway” Faye deadpanned in response, snapping a photo of Ken. “Besides,” she continued, putting her camera back under the rag again, letting her head fall back into the grass, “don’t you think the photo I just took wouldn’t go over well with all those war bond leaflets?” She held up her hands, reading an imaginary leaflet “Purchase a war bond so our curly haired cuties can maintain our bomber planes!” she sarcastically called out. It earned a belly-laugh from Ken, who then turned around, readying himself to get back to his maintenance work as he continued laughing, “I hope to God not.” Faye smiled in response, “Yeah, well, I’ve taken more leisure photos on this camera than the OSS would be comfortable knowing. It is only fair because nearly all film rolls were mine anyway,” she trailed off, closing her eyes again as the warm August sun blanketed her. 

The warmth took her back to August, nearly three years back, 1940. To the emerging hills behind Mulhouse, in the occupied region of the Alsace in France. Back then, she too had snapped a photo that the OSS would turn their noses up at. She couldn’t help it, though, the sleepy little cottage the, back then, above ground resistance she was attached to used as their base of operations was too pretty against the sunny hills. Plus, the whole rule against taking photos that do not directly aid the war effort was bullshit anyway. They increased her morale, no? Surely a heightened sense of morale would aid the war effort. Just like her friend, and resistance member Isidore was aiding the war effort by developing the photos Faye had taken recently. His girlfriend, Julienne, a distant cousin of Faye’s neighbors back in Louisiana, the Klotz family, laid next to her in the grass, yelling at her sweetheart to stop working so hard and join them in the warm sum. She still remembered the minty smell of the Ground Ivy that tickled against her cheeks in the field near the cottage as she watched Isidore exit the cottage, some of the successfully developed photos under his arm, he dropped them above the two women. The photographs whirled softly down onto them, like those propaganda leaflets that had recently been dropping from planes over the region. The association made her chuckle. She much preferred these photographs over those leaflets. 

Oh, how she longed back to be in that sleepy little field just behind Mulhouse. Unknowing and indifferent to what was about to wash over her. Over her dear friends. Over her distant relatives, up north in Sélestat.  How she wished to gain that sense of unknowing and indifference once more. The fleeting feeling of walking back home from the shul on those warm August evenings, taking the train from Mulhouse towards Sélestat, being greeted by her grandmother’s second brother, the one who stayed behind in Alsace. Being taken in to his family, learning about their extensive history and connection to this land. It made her feel proud, like her family here. All of that despite the impending feeling of calamity. That feeling grew more and more with each news item about the Germans inching closer. Forcing themselves back into the territory they’ve claimed as theirs for eras. This time, it came paired with a terrifying venom against a group of people so deeply rooted in this region. 

After the annexation of the Alsace into Nazi-Germany, the resistance group Faye had been attached to by the OSS was forced to go underground. Her work, instead of reporting back to the OSS on current events in the border region between France and Germany, became a high-risk operation that aided the Alsatian resistance in its activities against the Nazi occupier. When it happened, the OSS had forbidden her to associate publicly with her family and the community she had built up. They deemed it ‘too riskful’. And because Faye had no choice, she listened to those orders. And just like that, her growing connection with her ancestral home region, her family, the core of her very identity was snapped away. Just as quick as it had flourished. She watched the treatment of her people become more and more dire every day. She watched and she could do nothing but watch. Nothing outward anyway. In secret, she was doing more than she ever had done. Risking everything to make it harder for the Nazis to spread their hatred and evil. In return, she got the gnarly gift of having to distance herself from the recently cultivating bond with her family that lived halfway across the world from her. 

Yes, she still had Isidore, Julienne and the rest of their group. Though, as they were forced to become underground, a painful strain started to form on their friendship. Understandably so, tensions were high, risks were always there and the imminent feeling of doom never stopped looming over the group. 

Which ended up being for good reason. Come the early February days of 1943, Faye found herself with her left cheek pressed into the cold ground where the minty Ground Ivy once grew. The barrel of a Karabiner 98A straight against her right cheek. She still wasn’t sure who gave up their activities to the SS. She wasn’t sure if she cared enough by then either way. Or now, for that matter. In the two and a half years that spanned from that first summer in Alsace to February of 1943, Faye had grown disillusioned to the point that she wasn’t even sure if she cared about living, or dying. Maybe it was for the better that death seemed so close. That it came to her in the form of a German rifle. 

That was until she remembered why her family decided to migrate to the United States. Back in the late 19th century, the Jews of the Alsace were already facing hardships. And it was those hardships that made her grandparents decide that from there on out, their family line would not suffer under those hardships anymore. So they set sail to Louisiana, because their children, and their children, and their children (and so on), deserved a life of flourishing. So it was there, February 1943, with the cold barrel of a Karabiner 98A pressed to her face, that Faye decided that she would honor that wish. She would not die at the hands of those who wished her dead. 

She wasn’t sure how, but she ran, she ran until her feet gave out and Isidore made them duck into a dense shrub. His face stained with dirt, much like hers. And through the dirt on his face, tears traced their paths. Then it dawned on her that Julienne hadn’t made it out with them. Faye hoped with everything she had in her dear friend wasn’t left out, alone in that cold field. But there wasn’t much time for hoping. They had to make it to safety. To a place where they couldn’t be reached by those who were looking for them. 

Switzerland. Within a few days of frantic fleeing, both of them somehow made it to Basel, just over the border. Isidore’s previously tear-filled eyes had turned empty by then. And Faye feared for him. She feared for everyone they had to leave behind. The fear didn’t leave her when she walked away from the hospital she had helped Isidore to, so his wounds could be looked at. Not caring much for her own, and after the OSS had been made aware of her whereabouts, they had arranged a route to England for her. To ‘escape’ the risk she found herself in, according to the OSS. She still scoffs at the mention of ‘risk’, the OSS would never fully know. And so, after a goodbye ‘for now’ and a promise to keep in touch, she departed for the train station of Basel, on towards Bern, and from there, hopefully England. She watched the fields roll by, they were barren, empty of life. She tried to not let it remind her of Julienne too much. Hoping that her friend had somehow made it to safety, like her sweetheart and Faye.

Her memories were disturbed by the warm sun once again being taken away from her. This time, it wasn’t because a certain crew chief by the name of Ken Lemmons was standing in between her and her blanket of warmth, it was because Faye hadn’t noticed the time pass by and the sun having moved behind the officer’s buildings on the air base. She let out a groan at the feeling of her back cracking as she sat up, her camera falling into her lap. Slowly opening her eyes, to her surprise, ‘Just-a-Snappin’ had been exchanged for a different airplane. Though, her eyes were too blurry from the sun shining onto them, to make out the name. These damn pilots and their airplane names. 

What she did make out was Ken and what seemed to be a pilot, standing by the plane as Ken pointed out several things on the wing. The pilot nodding, seemingly intently listening to Ken. Faye, after rubbing her eyes intensely, was able to make out more of the scene in front of her. Her sight darted towards the plane again, reading. ‘Rosie's Riveters,’ she mouthed the words. Way better name for a plane than whatever Blakely was thinking with his one, Faye thought. Her gaze moved over to Ken and the still unknown pilot again. Squinting, she could make out the brown curls, kept small and neatly arranged on top of his head. The 100th and their tendency to hide their gorgeous curls irrationally annoyed Faye to no end. She eternally cursed Ken for hiding them behind his beanie, too. She looked back to the nose of the plane, ‘Rosie’s Riveters.’ Oh. Robert Rosenthal. The man that had made her blush the other night without even knowing he had. Robert Rosenthal had arrived at Thorpe Abbotts some two weeks after Faye herself did. She had been sitting with Helen and the other women as she watched him come into the officers’ club, his feet carrying him, dancing towards his crewmates. It was his little twist and the way his jacket moved in the air flow created by it; itt had been the first time she smiled that day. And Helen noticed. Sending Faye a teasing look as she dug the nose of her shoe into Faye’s shin. The action made Faye’s cheeks turn bright red, sinking deeper into her seat, disappearing into the shadow of the curved wall as she let out a soft, intoxicated giggle. 

It wasn’t much later, after Nash had successfully achieved a dance from Helen, that Rosenthal’s eyes locked with Faye’s. The same red from before creeping up from her throat to her cheeks as she gave him a shy smile. His returning smile was beaming, like a direct ray of sunlight across the room. She would receive a few more of such smiles from him throughout the night.

Now, with his pilot’s hat snug under his arm, Faye could see him smile at Ken, a thankful smile. And who wouldn’t be thankful for Ken Lemmons. The man worked tirelessly to send them up safely into the air. But, oh she was sure it was Robert Rosenthal standing there, alright. Yeah, that smile, of which she had been on the receiving end several times now, she recognized it. The familiar, uneasy yet welcomed feeling creeped up in her stomach again. She could feel the flush in her throat. Combined with the hours of direct sunlight she had received over the afternoon, remembering their shared looks made her slightly lightheaded as she rose to her feet. Hoping to quietly leave, as to not gain the perception of both men standing some feet away from her. 

Mission unsuccessful, though, damn it. “Fish!” she heard Ken call her. Her arms dropped beside her body as she turned around, her camera swinging with a little delay. She caught it, so it wouldn’t hit her on her stomach. For some stupid reason, her breathing increased in frequency as she watched the two men walk over to her. She had to consciously try to not take a step backward everytime they took one forward. She tried to keep her eyes strictly on Ken.“You think that is a better name for a plane?” he asked, pointing towards the B-17. Her eyes followed his pointing, reading the text on the nose of the plane for a third time. Before she realized, she already voiced her opinion. “I think naming anything but a pet or a human is a weird thing anyway,” she retorted, eyes dead set on Ken. Next to him, she heard a chuckle. “I’m actually quite proud of ‘Rosie’s Riveters’” she heard the curly haired brunette next to Ken say. There was no fighting it anymore, she had to actually look at him now. And she was sure you could compare the color of her cheeks to the apples they served in the breakfast hall, bright red. Still, like she always did, she came up with a retort; “Well, it’s better than Blakely’s, I guess,” she said, a sly, yet slightly shy smile appearing on her lips. The brunette in front of her let out a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling. It tugged at Faye’s heartstrings, “Yeah, I’ll take that.” he said. And there it was again, that goddamned smile.

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Oh hello! I see that I was proven right once more...

Aren't y'all tired of predictable people, posting predictable things when their narrative is being shattered?

Well, let's unpack everything shall we? Gotta put this warning, riiiiight here

Much better!

Now to the fabulous part of the post that y'all came for!

Isn't it weird that they post two Portugal sightings and pics, just a few minutes apart?

Even better, Chris' teleportation powers are back 😆 he's so fast he was in LA and suddenly at Albitch's side!!!!

I honestly love these photos, because Chris suddenly looks so different from his more recent pics, where he's actually there...

What am I talking about?

Well, that outfit in the first pic is real OLD! So, technically they aren't lying about the pics being taken, and real. Just the time is definitely not at night, nor recently.

For the second pic, it's just hilarious! And I know y'all are sensitive about the whole "photoshopped/edited" thing but it's too easy, that it's so funny 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Here's what I mean...

The shirt Albitch is wearing, is the same one from her February 16 France trip.

And you can repeat outfits, but not with the days this close together... Is she back to being so poor she only has a few outfits for travel?

And also, Albitch's "husband" is a well known ass man.

So, why in the hell is a random guy putting his hand on her ass? A guy who most definitely isn't her husband?!

I'm not even going to mention the fact that she gave herself, Barbie proportions. She doesn't have the curves, so like everything, she has to fake it 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

And when did Chris' necklace turn black, and where did his glasses that, he can't live without go? Did he get lasik between Mass, LA, and Portugal?

Isn't that fun... 😌

Well, I'm tired now. Tired of staring at ANOTHER picture from the same tactic, from people still trying to prove this is legit. So, I'mma go, and enjoy REAL people.

And to prove how predictable they are, watch for the next one, another pap walk with rings in display, and another hand clutching, with a peck in the middle of some random street with the same outfits, that she doesn't have enough originality to make them her own.

Or maybe another blurry photo, with Albitch following them the next day, as if followers mean anything when you're hemorrhaging them every day, and losing money trying to keep up.

Lemme know if I forgot anything else. And like, I said, it's a rant post.

Until the next one!

❤️ Booky

[ggomos-maribat]

Menace

As I said in the AO3 this was a fic that I had drafts for but never got around to completing. Thought it would be a waste not to post it anyway :D Do bear in mind that these were drafts, so the pacing is choppy and can skip over some things.

--

I

"Marinette? Can you help me change the curtains?"

"Coming, maman!" The girl zipped down the stairs, only to be greeted with an overfilled table. All sorts of delicacies decorated the top, with an elaborate centerpiece that Sabine only brought out when special guests were over. She chuckled and got the lace curtains from her mother.

"This is too much. You know we can't finish all of this." Marinette climbed on a stool and began putting on the newly washed curtains.

"Oh come on, you haven't seen them for a long time. Let me throw a feast." Sabine patted her back before moving back to the kitchen.

"No, you haven't seen them in a long time and now you have an urge to spoil them," said Marinette.

She hadn't expected that day to come quickly. For a rare time, her childhood friends had the chance to visit Paris, France, courtesy of Bruce Wayne's lavish spending. The boys would be flying over from Metropolis, Gotham, and Fawcett City and were staying over for a few days.

Sabine blew out a breath. "The ice cream shop texted me. Their delivery man isn't available today. I'm sorry dear, but can you go pick it up before the boys arrive?"

"Of course, maman. I'll take my scooter."

Marinette grabbed the money and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek before dashing down the apartment. She was peacefully driving on her scooter when she heard an ominous thump from the side of the ride. Skidding to a halt, she gaped at the mutated dinosaurs trampling over the city, sending Parisians into a panic. On the widescreen attached to a building, Nadja Chamack warned the public about the third akumatization of Dr. Anne-Jeanne.

"Not today!" Marinette groaned under her breath. From her half-open purse, Tikki sent a sympathetic look.

She took the next right to find a spot to transform. But she found herself speeding up, going too fast, only to be hit with a sudden impact on her side as she was knocked over by one of the villain's creatures. Marinette's breath fell short while she laid on the road, clutching her head. A few feet from her, she saw a familiar car pull over.

---

She regained her consciousness, but was cursed with a splitting headache. Marinette whimpered and burrowed deeper into the arms of whoever was holding her. When she tried to open her eyes, the light stung her vision, making her shut them tight again. She had no idea where she was or who she was with, but the smell of asphalt and the voices clued her in.

"This is a bad idea, Dames. We can't be seen in Paris—"

"Do you want us to sit back and let that thing wreak havoc in the city while Ladybug's nowhere to be found?"

"But the Justice League promised Ladybug they won't interfere—"

"The League promised. Not us."

"Wait, so technically, Billy's the one breaking the rules here—"

A snort sounded. "Wait a minute, I was the one who saved Marinette."

Marinette felt herself being shifted around. Billy . . . but the one talking didn't sound like Billy. It sounded like—She tentatively opened her eyes a little to see a lightning emblem on a broad chest. Captain Marvel. He was the one carrying her.

Her eyelids closed again. Head hurts. Dami. Jon. Billy. What . . .?

"Oh look, the cat can't even handle the villain himself," Damian (or Robin?) huffed.

"Even if we interfere, we can't purify the akuma without Ladybug," Jon argued.

"We can always stall until she arrives," Captain suggested.

The akuma! Chat! Marinette stirred, pretending to wake up for the first time. She squirmed and groaned, opening her eyes. Captain Marvel placed her on the ground but she swayed as  she tried to stand up.

"Ma—!"

Robin sharply nudged Superboy on the side.

Superboy cleared his throat. "I mean, citizen! Are you okay?"

Marinette clutched her head. "Hurts."

Robin's lips thinned to a line. Marinette knew his irises must be blazing behind his mask. "You probably have a concussion. Captain will stay behind with you while we fight the akumatized villain."

Marinette swallowed thickly. No, I have to get away from here. Transform. Get the akuma. Get the ice cream. Get back home.

"Why do I have to stay?" Captain Marvel asked.

"If you're spotted here, how will you explain that to the League?"

"Fine."

Robin rolled his shoulders. "At least our fathers are used to us getting into trouble."

Superboy glanced back at her worriedly as he flew up while Robin grappled away. Captain Marvel led her to a hidden alley for safety. Scratches and aches were scattered around Marinette's body, adding to the throbbing in her head. She braced herself on the wall just as more of the dizziness kicked in. I'm in no state to fight right now. Besides that, she wouldn't be able to concentrate because of that sudden revelation.

"Ladybug's cure will heal you right?" Captain Marvel fidgeted next to her.

"It should," she mumbled.

She waited for a time when the hero wasn't looking and removed her earrings to give to Tikki. The kwami immediately vacated her purse to hand the Miraculous to her partner.

Marinette slid down to a sitting position, holding her head with both hands. My best friends are superheroes.

---

She had arrived back home before they did. Marinette sped up the upper floor to drop off the ice cream, meeting Sabine's worried expression.

"Marinette? Are you okay? I saw the akuma attack in the news." Sabine's eyebrows furrowed. "I shouldn't have let you pick up the ice cream."

Marinette forced out a smile of reassurance. "I'm okay, maman. I went to a safe spot as soon as I could and Ladybug—err, the heroes fixed everything."

"Do you think the boys got caught in the attack too?"

"I'm sure they'll be fine." She waved the thought off. "I'll text them to check."

Without giving Sabine a chance to respond, she dashed up to her bedroom, saying that she had to change to a better outfit. Marinette practically threw her purse on the chaise as she steadied her breaths. First, she let her mind run. Damian. Robin. Jon. Superboy. Billy. Captain-freaking-Marvel who hadn't even revealed his identity to the rest of the League. The rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place. The Wayne family. The Kents.

Marinette groaned and held her head again. It had been so obvious. They were right in front of her the entire time! And yet she had never stopped to think that they were like her, living with two identities. She sat upright, stiffening. She would have to control her heartbeat around Jon. No. She'd have to be careful around all three of them. Jon was a walking lie detector. Damian was a detective. And Billy was perceptive and had the Wisdom of Solomon. She shuddered, thinking how many times she could've come close to letting her alter ego slip while not knowing about it.

She jolted when she heard her phone ring. Putting a hand on her chest, she answered the call. The frantic voice of Adrien bombarded her ears. "Mari? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm okay." She sighed. "The cure fixed everything."

"Are you sure? Tikki said you had a concussion. I have to send the earrings back—"

"No, wait!" The words tumbled out of her lips without much thought. "I think it's better if you keep the earrings and Tikki for a while."

"What? Why? Is it not safe in your house?"

Marinette stood up and opened a mini drawer on her desk to retrieve a pair of extra earrings that looked like her Miraculous. "No, not like that. We're having guests over later. I won't have time to meet up with you and it's too dangerous for you to drop in. I'll get the earrings tomorrow."

"Oh, okay." Adrien muttered a curse. "I have to sneak out for sweets."

"Don't feed her too much." She laughed a little, easing off the tension in her body. "Thanks for covering for me today, kitty. You did so well."

"Yeah, but the other heroes suddenly showed up . . ."

Marinette gnawed on her lip. "I—I saw them too. Did they interfere too much?"

"They helped save some civilians," Adrien grumbled. "But Robin won't stop nagging my ear off."

"Marinette!" Sabine called out from downstairs. "They're here!"

"I'll talk to them next time," she promised. "I have to go. Thanks again, kitty."

She took a few more seconds to fish out the Mouse pendant from the box as temporary protection. Fortunately, the pendant in camouflage matched her outfit perfectly. She bounded down the stairs to see the three boys, not a hair out of place as if they hadn't donned capes not more than an hour ago. Jon wore his usual sunny smile; Damian was his usual broody self, arms crossed and posture rigid; and Billy was tucked in a thick coat and black beanie.

Marinette put on a grin of her own as she hugged them one by one. "Are you guys okay? The akuma attack hit downtown and . . ."

Damian scoffed. "We're not foolish enough to get caught in an akuma attack."

"The dinosaurs looked pretty cool though," said Billy.

"I'm glad." As if nothing happened at all.

"Are you okay? Maman Sabine said you were outside during the attack too." Jon frowned.

Her voice raised an octave as she side-eyed her mother. "Fine! I'm fine. Why don't we eat now? You must be starving."

She gestured towards the living space. The coffee table had been pushed to the side to make room for cushions and pillows. "You guys can put your bags over there."

"It's a good thing you boys weren't harmed," said Sabine, placing the plates neatly on the table. "I heard some . . . foreign heroes were around as well."

Only Jon seemed to have a split-second reaction, Marinette noticed. Damian barely batted an eye when he replied, "It seems that they've been called in since Ladybug was missing in action."

Marinette wrinkled her nose. We didn't 'call them in'. Adrien would've been offended to hear that. "That happens sometimes," she piped up. "But Chat Noir always saves the city whenever Ladybug's out of commission."

"Dunno, he looked like he was being cornered back there," Billy recounted, sharing a look with Jon. "Um, we were watching from the car."

"Chat Noir's capable of handling things by himself." Marinette raised an eyebrow.

Jon poked her side. "I forgot you were such a fangirl."

"I'm not a fan—!" She sputtered out, face heating up. "Okay, I am, but not that kind. I just hate it when people don't appreciate Chat. He and Ladybug are partners. They're equals."

They took their seats around the table. Marinette's thoughts momentarily flew elsewhere. It was strange knowing their identities, and she knew she had to tell them. But the consequences of doing that were unpredictable. They might become overprotective of her, since knowing their secrets would make her vulnerable. Or they might also push her away in fear of exposing her to danger.

She absentmindedly sipped on her drink. It would be fair if I told them about me too but . . .

She watched them carefully. Billy and Jon were both scarfing down their food while Damian was talking with Sabine. They're the same . . . but everything is so different too. She wouldn't fault them for hiding those secrets from her since she carried one of her own. But since she found out about them, another invisible weight added to her growing pile.

She shook herself out of her daze.

"I can finally beat you in UMS properly," Billy grinned with a mouthful.

"Properly?" She pointed her fork at him. "You've never beaten me at all."

"Hey, I've beaten Eugene a few times. I can beat you."

"Please. You're leaving out the real champion here," Jon chimed in. Marinette threw a napkin on his face, telling him to wipe the pasta sauce on his chin.

"If you beat me once, I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow," Marinette wagered. "Damian, you should play too."

"Tt. It's a childish game."

Jon rolled his eyes. "It's a fighting game. You like fighting."

"Not with hunks of steel."

"Mechs," Marinette corrected. "But if you want to sit down and brood for the rest of the night, be my guest then. I'll make you our food errand boy."

"Oh, he's gotta practice his scowl." Billy smirked.

"The threatening aura," Jon added.

"Fine.” Damian crossed his arms. I'll join you for one game."

---

All the words she could hear were garbled, echoing in the white wasteland. There were hands choking her as she clawed at anything she could touch. 

Icy blue eyes. 

Sharp teeth. 

A feral grin. 

He morphed into an image of Hawkmoth, who sent her flying from the top of the Eiffel right after seizing her Miraculous.

Marinette's breaths grew ragged. 

It's not real!

She woke up in a cold sweat, realizing that she'd been holding the sheets tightly. Painfully. She'd fallen asleep nestled between Damian and Billy, and Jon had moved near her, hand positioned by her shoulder.

He must've heard my heartbeat, she guessed.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

She sat up and nodded numbly. "Nightmare."

"Want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. Not wanting to wake the others, she moved to the kitchen with Jon trailing behind her. "Sometimes I have trouble sleeping," she murmured. "It's nothing too serious. Don't worry."

Jon looked at her sympathetically. To him, she was probably a traumatized innocent, someone who had witnessed too many akuma attacks. But the truth was something deeper, something that she wouldn't be able to tell them.

"Want a cup of . . . tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?" Marinette offered, filling up the heater with water.

"Whatever you'll have," Jon said. "Does it happen often?"

"Not too often," she responded hesitantly. "I . . . I get used to it?"

He raised an eyebrow. She winced. That doesn't sound any better, does it?

"But I'm okay, really. I just have to wake myself up before an akuma slips in or something." She shrugged. "It's a burden every Parisian has to carry."

"Why can't the heroes deal with Hawkmoth already?" he said bitterly.

Marinette's fingers twitched as she handed him his cup. You don't know anything. "They're trying their best. It's just a matter of time before he breaks."

"But Ladybug and Chat Noir are just kids themselves. Won't it be easier to pass the responsibility to someone else?"

She clenched her jaw. And get amnesia? No thanks.

"Hey, I believe in trusting them both." She half-smiled, taking a sip of her drink. "Don't let other Parisians hear you say that. They're protective of their heroes." 

II

“You’ll be joined by Ladybug for this mission,” Batman told him. “And Captain Marvel will accompany the three of you.”  

Robin froze in the middle of sheathing his sword, only dwelling on the fact that his father had nearly uttered ‘babysit’ instead of ‘accompany’. His face hardened, eyebrows knitting together and lips pulled into a thin line. “Ladybug? We can do fine without her.”  

Though Bruce’s cowl was pulled up, Robin knew he was silently saying ‘ no room for arguments on this one’. Batman turned back to the computer. “Sources say that the location has some strange . . . signature. You need someone with magic expertise.”  

“Captain Marvel is magic.”  

“You know what I mean, Damian.”  

Robin clicked his tongue softly. Ladybug. It wasn’t that he disliked her, it was just that her behavior was too closed off. Always insisting that she’d handle Paris on her own, along with her team. Always saying she’s not a part of the Justice League. Never allowing anyone else to research or even see the other Miraculi.  

He supposed that Batman agreed on her terms about Paris being a no-touch zone since the Bat himself understood that a turf was a turf. Like Gotham was his own miserable little city to protect. Damian, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate her lack of openness. Acting like she could handle independence from superiors or mentors when she wasn’t any older than him.  

Not to mention she’d been actively avoiding the JL in the past few weeks. 

“I’m leading the team,” he said indignantly.  

“ All of you will work together,” Batman ordered. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Ladybug usually doesn’t work closely with the League. We shouldn’t waste the opportunity.”  

He scoffed. “So you decided to put her with the other kids, huh.”  

“Damian. ”  

“I will ‘behave’, Father.” He signed air quotes with his fingers. “But I can’t say that she will too.”  

That was what brought Robin, Superboy, Ladybug and Captain Marvel to the borders of Russia to infiltrate a cave which was pinpointed to be a base of a mysterious group. Robin, bundled up in a thicker suit, couldn’t help but side-eye the French heroine. Another thing that irked him was that the three of them would have to hide their identities from her, which meant there would be little casual conversation going around.  

He clenched his jaw, putting one hand on the cave’s entrance. She’s the intruder around here.  

“Do you think the cult has something to do with the Miraculous?” Superboy hovered nearby, squinting at the darkness to search for potential dangers.  

“Won’t be the first time,” Ladybug muttered under her breath.  

“What do you mean?” Captain Marvel asked.  

“The knowledge about Miraculouses isn’t exactly . . . hidden throughout history,” she explained, opening up her yoyo to use as a light. “When people find out about the power they hold, they tend to go extreme when they try to look for the Miraculouses or their holders.”  

“So that’s why you’re keeping the Paris thing under wraps.” Superboy stepped on one of the rocks leading down the cave. “I think it’s safe. I’ll stay at the front so I can keep an eye out.”  

“Part of the reason,” Ladybug followed behind Robin as they ventured into the deep hollow. From the corner of his eye, he saw her shiver.  

“I thought your suit protected you from the cold,” he said.  

She matched his scowl with a deadlier one. “Ladybug instincts. I don’t do well in cold weather.”  

“And yet you still accepted this mission.”  

“I need to be here in case Miraculouses are involved.” Her voice raised slightly.  

“So if it wasn’t, you’re just dead weight?”  

“Okay kiddies, break it up,” Captain Marvel butted in behind them. “Forward now, and look where you step.”  

Robin withheld a sigh. Ladybug fell quiet behind him.  

III

“I’m worried about them,” Jon sighed as he stepped over to another platform. The damp smell of the cave permeated in the air, making him wrinkle his nose every ten minutes or so. 

“Of course you are,” Billy said, “It’s Damian we’re talking about here.”  

“He’s a bit . . . abrasive towards people he doesn’t trust yet.”  

“Abrasive,” Billy repeated, snorting, as he nearly slipped on one of the wet rocks. “The guy punched me when we first met.”  

Jon laughed. “You know that was an accident.”  

Damian Wayne was obviously a tough nut to crack. He was harsh, blunt, and stubborn through and through, only letting a few people slip past the gaps. But Jon also thought the same of Ladybug. She hid behind her mask, blocking everyone with her walls the second they tried to get close to her. Maybe she was afraid of getting hurt. Maybe she was paranoid.  

Consequently, both her and Damian’s spitfire personalities clashed, manifesting as heated arguments and opposition.  

Then there was Jon’s other worry. Marinette.  

“There’s something I’m thinking about too,” Jon began, “I . . . I think I want to tell her.”  

Billy stopped for a minute to catch his breath. “Mari?”  

“Yeah.”  

“I’ve been thinking too. We . . . we pretty much dealt with our shit separately at first, right? Damian and the League. You and your powers. Me with . . . you know.” Billy pursed his lips. “But then we got to tell each other in the end. Except her.”  

“How do you think she’ll react?”  

“Mad. Really mad. She probably won’t talk to us for days.” Billy laughed a little.  

Jon pictured it in his head: Mari would be devastated. Confused. Angry. Expectedly, there’d be a rush of emotions involved. Knowing her, she would probably accept the truth in the end, but the journey to that point wouldn’t be pretty. But he found comfort in the fact that they could confide in her someday.  

“You know how the heroes have civilian aides? Like Dad has Mom and Uncle Bruce has Alfred?” Jon raked his fingers through his hair. “I kind of want Mari to be like that for us. I know we can’t force her but—but—”  

“But she’d be qualified to help us. She’s that smart,” Billy continued. 

He nodded. “I just thought that maybe if she’s one of us, we won’t need to worry about hiding and keeping secrets.”  

“I get that. Do you see us telling her anytime soon though?”  

Jon’s shoulders sagged. “No.”  

[starwarsmum]

Day 10 for Maribat BioFamily September y'all! And today it's: We're Hiring

@maribat-calendar-events

“I just can't move here full time, even if I wanted to,” Marinette protested, head buried in her arms. Summer was nearly over and everyone was trying to convince her to stay in Gotham for the whole year. As much as she loved spending time with them, she missed her parents and friends in France. 

“I'm just saying that if you wanted to work with Wayne Fashion, we would absolutely hire you now,” Tim said slyly, working on his laptop at the dining table. Marinette looked up and glared at him, but he merely shrugged. “It wouldn't be a full-time gig or anything, and you'd probably have to go to school with Damian, but you'd be working for a major name in fashion.”

“Please, I've had offers from the style queen and Gabriel - pre-takedown, obviously - and Jagged Stone endorses me. I don't need your nepotism, thank you very much. Also, stop trying to think up things to tempt me! I doubt Damian would like you using him like that.”

Tim pulled a face at her but didn't say anything. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Tim started up again. “Look, I'm not saying you have to live in Gotham if you don't want to. But I am willing to make a genuine offer to partner with you. I've been looking to hire MDC for ages, so it isn't technically nepotism.”

“...I'm not sure how to feel about it being ‘technically not nepotism’,” Marinette said drily, doodling designs into a sketchbook idly. “Besides, I like being commission based, I get to turn down anyone I don't want to work with. And I get to work with a greater variety of people. But maybe I could work out a couple of pieces for you.”

“Seriously?” Tim jerked his gaze away from his work and looked at her excitedly. “No, wait, seriously, you would? Because I really want an MDC original, and if you would let me commission you, it would make my year.”

Marinette laughed and promised to sit down with him that evening and get a design or two under way.

_ _ _

While Tim was waiting for Marinette that evening, he had brought up a bunch of saved images of different clothes he liked the styles of. He also, at Marinette's command, grabbed a range of his most comfortable clothes, although she hadn't said why. 

“Sorry, I lost track of time,” Marinette chirped as she burst into the room. She had told him that morning that she was planning to walk Titus with the demon brat that afternoon and apparently she had only just returned because she was flushed and slightly out of breath. Even her hair, usually in neat bunches, was loose and slightly mussed as though wind had been running through it. 

“No problem,” Tim replied easily, sitting forward in his chair eagerly. As he launched into an explanation of what he wanted for the first commission, his sister nodded along, making notes in her sketchbook and asking seemingly random questions. 

An hour later, she finished asking him questions and he had exhausted every possible description of what he wanted, she sketched out several designs. One in particular stood out to him, a casually scruffy suit jacket. She explained that it would look worn but be impeccably stitched so that it wouldn't be worn out easily. 

“Just based on what you were saying about wanting to mess with your board of directors,” she added, highlighting various additional aspects. “Obviously I'll make it out of easily washable fabric, in case you spill coffee on it. And it'll be durable, because I know you like to skate around the halls of Wayne Enterprises.”

“It's perfect, Nette,” Tim breathed, grinning widely at her. She looked pleased with herself, jotting down last minute notes before they discussed pricing and timescales. Then she started the process all over again to design clothes for non-business use.

It was nearly midnight by the time they finished and Tim called an end to their chat. When he stood up and stretched, he could see that she was still pondering the sketchbook, muttering and making notes of her own that he couldn't decipher.

“You should get some sleep, Nette,” he said, dragging her out of her own thoughts and offering a hand up. She jumped as though startled and gave him a sheepish grimace. “Lord knows I'm going to bed.”

“Mmm, I'm just going to check in with Jay, make sure he doesn't want to do some baking and then I'll head to bed too,” she said with a more genuine smile. “Besides, once the ideas get going I find it hard to just sleep, you know?”

Tim agreed that he did indeed know, walking her towards the kitchen. They said goodnight and Tim went to bed feeling like he'd won the lottery - by the end of the year, he would finally have a commissioned MDC original.

[slayerkitty]

Visual Effects in Only Friends MV part 2

The second song on the Only Friends OST dropped today; So What? by the amazing Ford Arun. Much like the first MV for Only Friends, this one is also has visual frameworks that made me stop and stare.

Just like my first post on this subject, where I talked about the late 90s/early 00s aesthetic of the show as well as controlled voyeurism (aka we only see what they want us to see), these themes show up again here, but a little differently. Unlike the Let's Try MV and the BTS vids which use multiple different effects and transitions as well as framing a lot of the scenes to look like (possibly) 90s camcorder footage, So What? has two visual effects (I think technically three, and I'll point out why I say it this way in a minute).

The first one is the camcorder footage effect. Except that it's even different from the Let's Try MV. While the Let's Try MV has the "play" prompt onscreen and time stamps, it now, to me, feels more like CCTV video than camcorder video. The video effect on So What? is definitely camcorder footage because it is time and date stamped.

Now, the time and date stamp is February 1st, 2020 at 6:06pm for every screen it appears on, which to me cannot be an accurate date/time for any of the scenes. Several of these scenes were from episodes 4, 5, 6, or potentially yet to air. Chuem drops info about Covid in episode one and in February of 2020, we were so early into the pandemic during that time that I'm not sure she would have referred to it so casually, plus with no Covid precautions being taken onscreen it does feel the show is set currently (aka 2023).

Why this date? Why 6:06pm? WHAT IS JOJO TRYING TO SAY HERE? Is this a specific reference to something upcoming on the show? Is this date famous in Thailand for something? Did he just pull a date and time out of a hat?

Onto the second effect: the yellow text on the screen is back! It was heavily used as a visual effect in episode one, and after a discussion with @ignoranaxed I did add it to my Narrative Frameworks post where I'm tracking visual effects on the show. We discussed whether or not this was an homage or reference to SKAM Norway, an extremely popular coming of age teen drama that had an amazingly done queer season (Season three. If nothing else, stop what you're doing and go watch SKAM Norway season three. You can thank me later). The show was so popular it has been remade in Spain, Italy, France, Germany (named Druck), Belgium (named WtFock), the United States and has even been announced as a Korean (BL?) drama for next year.

Is this an actual homage? I came down on the side of maybe. I can't swear it is, but I can't say it isn't. That yellow text on the screen is iconic due to SKAM Norway, and it is used in every single remake of the show (if Korea doesn't use it, I will cry. Also, if Korea doesn't release/air it in the same way, I will cry). Leaving that aside, the yellow text is in Thai, and as yet, I have no idea what it says because my subs only translated the song lyrics, not the onscreen words. If anyone who knows Thai can help me with this, I would love you forever because there's one other thing that shows up in yellow on the screen, and it's this:

WHY AN ELLIPSES, JOJO? WHAT DID IT SAY BEFORE THIS? I NEED TO KNOW WHY IT'S TRAILING OFF. IS IT TO BE CONTINUED? THE NOT KNOWING WILL DRIVE ME INSANE.

Onto the third , but maybe not really an effect: Is Ford photoshopped in here?

I ask this because if he is (and I can't quite tell but I think maybe?) then does that mean this is future footage coming up on the show? Or, like Let's Try MV did with it's extra SandRay footage in the car, was this just shot for the MV? I'm curious to see what people think on this.

Now for the rest of the MV where I just melt down because WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS DRAMA BETWEEN YO AND PLUG, JOJO? YOU CAN'T DO THIS. Also, is this Sand hugging Yo?

You can't do this to my girl. This will hurt.

Do we think this is Boston and Nick potentially going ice skating or roller skating? Because if it's roller skating, JOJO I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER.

In summary, the visual frameworks are back in play once again and what they're choosing to show and how feel important.

Tagging the ephemerality squad: @waitmyturtles, @wen-kexing-apologist, @ranchthoughts, @chickenstrangers, @lurkingshan, @twig-tea, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @distant-screaming

Apologies to anyone I missed. If you would liked to be tagged in my OF posts/meta, please let me know and I will add you.

[greetings-from-the-eraser-king]

Hlvrai kids au

Basic premise the crew go on a field trip to Black Mesa they stumble upon a secret experiment b-u557 and end up releasing him and Black Mesa security desperately tries to stop him

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Eatch kids character description below 👇

Tommy- is the oldest and is in 4th grade and is in a gifted class with darnold he has a huge collection of soda cans and stuffed animals his favorite thing to do is line them up in different patterns. Hes mainly happy and cheerful. him and benrey live together as brothers though there not biologically related he's not quite sure we're ben came from. Gman takes Tommy to black mesa a lot to show him different science experiments going on. Wants a dog so bad his toy dog is doing the job for now.

Gordon- he's in 3erd and is mainly a loner who doesn't fit in a chronic over-thinker he mainly likes to play videogames or read (mainly magazines about video games) he is a smart kid and maybe next year he'll be in the advanced science class. Anxious but loyal and can get easily annoyed. Him and benrey are frenemies both bonding over videogames and other nerdy things but benery is a bit to annoying to be a true friend (benery constantly taunts him by calling him feet man because when he was in kindergarten he stepped in peanut butter and ate it Gordon regrets telling him this) he carries a Gameboy wherever he goes.

Darnold- is one of the smartest kids in the 3erd grade but unfortunately the shortest which leads to constant taunts from forzen though not in the same grade him and Tommy are in the same gifted class and are very good friends. They enjoy making positions out of soda and doing all sorts of strange experiments.more shy and less confident than Tommy he still has a similar joyful attitude. Reads fantasy books and constantly has a new one every week.

Benery- in 3erd lives with Tommy and has no memory of how he got there but meh who cares loves to skate board and do tricks though no one knows how he holds onto it at all times seemingly appears and disappears at will. He wandered a lot and seems to forget things you just told him. You can't tell when he's joking or being serious. His helmet never comes off. Chill jokester who doesn't take a lot of things seriously and likes to hang around Gordon and annoy him. He is not allowed near black mesa.

Forzen- moved from France when he was around 3-4 his dad's in the military and he's a bit spoiled has had to move a lot because of his dad but he's been in the same neighborhood as the gang sense the end of 2ed grade. He's not truly one of the bullies of the school but is annoying to Gordon darnold and Tommy he quickly became friends with benery when he moved and benery taut him how to skate board.

B-u557- a top secret black mesa experiment to be the ultimate life form he was still brewing when the kids broke him out of his tube so he might have some defects mostly annoyed all the time but he is thrilled to be out of his tube and even more thrilled to finally be able to hear a scientist who has been visiting him.

Dr.coomer- a good friend of Tommy's dad but usually not taken very seriously by his coworkers. He is a little unusual and loud but is a very kind soul other scientists complaine that he talks to much. he works in many departments around black mesa but is most offensive seen in the robotics department is the founder of the black mesa boxing ring and has not lost his wife in the divorce yet. He likes to visit the secret experiment B-u557 to see how he's doing he does his rants to the experiment even though he knows he can't hear him. But b-u557 doesn't ever seem to be annoyed so he keeps visiting. Even if everyone else in black mesa tells him to stop.

Credit: blinkees

[95jezzica]

Small blind Sweden HCs

Though Sweden has glasses and they help a LITTLE, he's still legally blind. He notices differences in light and VAGUE shapes, but like... Good luck reading stuff.

The example pictures below compares 20/20 eyesight and what I headcanon Sweden's eyesight to be with glasses.

[Picture 1 ID: A screenshot from the opening scene of the anime episode where they have a party for Iceland. Chibi-head Denmark is at the front in a speech-bubble, and in the background you see a Nordic-like landscape with a small island with a lot of green trees. The island is placed in a big body of water, and behind the water there's at least 3 mountains with a clear sky above them, all mountains clad with some snow. The green trees and the snow on the mountains indicates this likely takes place during late spring.]

[Picture 2 ID: Same as picture 1, but now with the Gaussian Blur effect on strength 30.]

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France was the one who first taught Sweden braille.

Iceland was the one who helped Sweden practice and become fluent in it, and as a result Iceland is also fluent in braille.

Germany and France have been very good at making sure their meetings are accessible for Sweden and nations with other disabilities though, so it honestly isn't that much of an issue.

For an example Sweden is given a discreet ear-phone directly connected to the microphone during meetings, and France always makes sure to prepare notes in braille with a summary of what topic(s) the meeting will go through, and then after the meeting gives him notes with what ACTUALLY happened. x)

On days with technical issues Sweden is also guaranteed a seat in the front row to ensure he still hears the information, usually paired with Norway, Iceland or Finland.

Denmark got banned from being Sweden's seat buddy since they kept starting petty fights, and Germany has enough of that from France and England, thank you very much. xD

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Sweden usually don't use a white cane within his own home or lands since he knows them by heart by now, but whenever he has to go internationally or somewhere he knows has a more dangerous terrain he will bring his trustworthy iron staff that he uses as a white cane, which has the bonus of being able to double as a blunt weapon. x)

Sweden refuses to modernize to an actual white cane made for blind people, to his family's annoyance and reluctant acceptance. x) . (Sweden can be surprisingly stubborn at times). Sweden is just so used to it by now, and with some helpful spells from Norway they've made sure the iron staff won't randomly break of old age or start to rust.

The staff is always an absolute pain to get through airport security, though. xD

After many buts and ifs Sweden at least let Iceland paint the staff white, so the staff wouldn't be questioned TOO much by humans. x)

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[This is getting long, so I will stop here at least for now. Hope ye' all enjoyed this though!] x)

[theartfuldodger26]

Have you ever described the Lestrange family home? If not, I would love to know how you imagine it? (I personally see a Tudor estate with vast gardens).

Hah, Anon, you got me! See, I usually pretend that Bella never married and/or still lives in the ancestral seat of the Blacks, Black Castle, meaning I haven't spent much time thinking about the Lestrange's home. I've never described it in writing, as all my fics either take place in Malfoy Manor or Black Castle (or other random places).

Another reason I haven't thought of this much is that my history isn't terribly good as to explain why a French aristocrat moves to England (Lestrange ancestors). Now that I think on it, though, I do have an idea. And the move is pretty recent.

My hot take is that the Lestranges came from France during the French Revolution. So the ancestral home is still in French soil, but the modern official seat is an Early Regency Era Mansion, in our Muggle terms - much more modern than the average English pureblooded family seat. I love the idea of massive gardens that Bella has closely taken care of, because they relax her headaches and anxiety.

Now, you didnt ask this, so forgive me for adding this, I've just been looking for an excuse to talk about the Blacks' ancestral home, a massive castle bigger than Hogwarts. I HC that the Blacks were wizards and witches that served in the Roman army and were given land in Britain back at around the turn of the calendar from BCE to CE. They built a large fort, then a roman mansion, and its basis is still standing, along with the roman baths, which Voldemort is very fond of using. Over that was built the medieval castle, which got bigger, grander and more fortified (something that Bella loves) as wizardkind turned away from the Muggle world. Just like Hogwarts, the grounds are extensive and include gardens of all flavours, like a large maze where Bellamort often hide and have sex, to Bella's favourite creation, a garden full of poisonous flowers and plants (one such garden actually exists in the Muggle world, highly recommend a visit). There is also a lake, where Bella feeds the ducks to calm herself (something I often do myself, I love my ducks) and where she once nearly drowned while suffering from sleepwalking post-Azkaban.

I'm going to pretend that Anon has noticed my tendency to describe buildings and interiors in my fics, talk about it some more, and flatter myself in the process. See, the thing is, I'm not much for excess myself, so Rococo/palatial style interiors and the likes are not really for me, and I find that Bellatrix and Voldemort in particular would have a slightly more minimalistic approach to decor too. Luxurious yes, but not superfluous. Bella would be anal about preserving her existing homes (of the Blacks, the Lestranges, the Gaunts, whatever she and Voldemort built for themselves) as they came to her hands, but not terribly into adding stuff, which I imagine Narcissa doing a lot - adding wings, changing styles in rooms etc.

Bella has her own rooms wherever she lives, but spends most nights in Voldemort's quarters, which are quite doric and functional in taste. He also showcases many of the keepsakes he's collected from his travels. And books are absolutely everywhere, along with boardgames like chess and go. Both for the sake of privacy to their affair and for safety, they have removed all portraits and paintings that include people from their quarters, but Bella will often visit portraits of her dead relatives for a chat, because she is missing them. Voldemort occasionally joins her, and they pretend to have a far more professional relationship in front of her parents, which they both find hilarious.

What else, what else. Oh, obviously Voldemort has an extensive snake collection in the dungeons, that he cares for himself. Having been invited to Black Castle from when he was at school with Cygnus, he has technically lived in his rooms as much as Bellatrix has lived there, if not more.

Back to the og question.

Bella and Rodolphus definitely have separate bedrooms. Bella's has a lovely window nook and a large balcony, because she finds it very calming to read under the stars, where all her family is located. She often falls asleep on aa daybed in the balcony or the garden, when the weather will allow it. They also have a Quidditch pitch, where Bella and Rod play like when they were students, while Voldemort, who hates flying on a broom and anything related to Quidditch or sports pretends he needs to be away for work, and won;t even dare look at Bella flying. Have I mentioned Voldemort is afraid of heights? Many times, but here it is again.

Now moving to Cursed Child, I think that Delphi chose to live with Rodolphus for a long time, after he revealed her true parentage and the fact that he was practically the only person looking out for her, before he died too. So she has her own rooms, which, like her father's are relatively frugal and simple, full of notes and books, but from her mum's side she has a love for the skys, so she had a roof knocked down and you can now see the sky from the glass ceiling. imitation of the charm on the Great Hall ceiling, if you like.

This was great fun answering, Anon, so thank you very much both for taking interest in my work and in bringing the fun and the old little grey cells to work! I hope I answered with some satisfaction to some degree (I admit I was unprepared for this!).

Anyone is welcome to add their own HCs on the matter, I'd love to know more about how you imagine these characters' homes as, since I'm a sucker for architecture.