#no formulae for charms or other dangerous information

[thestarkerisobvious]

Warmth

based on a prompt by @awesomestarker

story by @thestarkerisobvious and @mrstarksbaby

moodboard by @mrstarksbaby

------------------------------

Best.  Vacation.  Ever.

It was silly, but ever since that one year that the electricity had gone out, Peter insisted.  One entire day without electricity.  Except for the refrigerator, of course.  And the hot water heater.  But that was all.  As little device use as possible.  Even to look up information.  That’s what books were for.  During the day they would read or play chess or play card games with the tarot deck or just sit and talk in the sunlit rooms and enjoy the day.  Then, at night, sleeping, bundled up in the living room by the fireplace.  Just like they had done that first winter.

Peter shouldn’t be happy the electricity went out that one year.  Shouldn’t be thankful.  Should acknowledge, at least, some of the danger they could have been in (if it weren’t for the generator.  And the backup generator, of course…)

But he couldn’t help it.  Right now, he was glowing.  Even in the cold cabin, he was glowing.  He should at least go wrap up in the fuzzy blanket again - and he would soon - but for now he stayed where he was.

Watching the Sexiest Man Alive chop wood.

And he was.  Officially.  Voted Sexiest Man Alive.  More than once.  And Peter, now sitting in the seat closest to the window, almost shivering with the cold, couldn’t have agreed more.

He had sat there with the cup of hot cocoa Tony had made for him at his feet.  He had been sitting at the kitchen table, reading in the sunlit room.  He had found an old Llewellen book (“Charms, Spells and Formulas”) that he had bought ages ago at a used book store but never got around to reading.  He was now pouring over a chapter about “gris-gris bags” and scribbling out lists of herbs to look up.  One list to check against Tony’s fully-stocked spice rack, one to check against his collection at home, and one to check against the internet as soon as they allowed themselves back on line.

Tony had only rolled his eyes and groaned at the idea of ordering MORE spell ingredients, but didn’t interfere with the new project until he noticed Peter was shivering at the table, tucking his hands under his legs when his fingers got too cold to write.  

“Humor me,” Tony countered when Peter insisted “I’m fine!” through chattering teeth.  The next thing he knew he was sitting in the living room in front of the fire, warming his hands on a mug of hot cocoa.  

“Are these cinnamon for my protection?” Peter asked with a grin.  “Maybe,” Tony said with a sideways grin.  “Someone has to protect you from yourself.”   

Peter smiled, silently stirring in the intention.  Then noticed that Tony was rolling up his sleeves.   

“And what are you doing?”

“We need more of this,” Tony replied, kicking a pice of firewood with his boot.  “I’ll be back.”

And now here they were - Tony outside chopping firewood, Peter sitting at the couch closest to the window so he could watch.  Watch and wonder.

What was it about that man, Peter wondered, watching those powerful arms move, the iron muscles flex as Tony raised the ax above his head over and over again.  It wasn’t the muscular build, not that alone.  It couldn’t have been.  Captain America had bigger biceps, and much bigger pectorals.  And Thor, well, Thor was a god.  Who towered above all of them, making even Cap look like a short man.  There were more muscular men in Peter’s life.  And as for strength…

…Peter lay back a little in his seat by the window.  Smiling wistfully.  

The truth was, Peter was stronger than Tony.  Stronger than most of the Avengers, actually.  Possibly as strong as Captain America, although Peter never set out to prove it.  Never needed to.  He knew what he knew.  Besides, it didn’t matter.

Peter never thought much about being so strong.  Never thought about the muscles he had built up just swinging across New York City every day, or lifting vehicles off of each other in pileups.  In fact, whenever he thought about being “strong” the only thought, the only memory, that came to mind was holding a splitting ferry full of people together on his own.  He wasn’t strong, not compared to fracturing ferries, or collapsing concrete buildings, or crashing airplanes.  So he never really thought about how much stronger he was than Tony.

Oh, but in Tony’s arms at night, it felt so good to feel weak…

“Enjoying the view?” Tony asked as he brought in the first load of firewood. 

“Very much so,” Peter acknowledged.   

Tony headed outside again, closing the door firmly behind him to keep in the heat.  Peter shivered a bit, grinning to himself.  Tonight was going to be sweet.  When Tony was done chopping firewood he would probably want a shower - a good place to warm them both up, certainly - and then they would have to figure out another way to keep themselves warm.  Although maybe not.  It was barely afternoon, maybe too early in the day for that.  Peter would get up from his seat and, after finding a warm sweater, find some way of making Tony a meal.  As a reward for all this wood-chopping.  They had a whole list of dishes that could be made with the use of the battery powered hotplate or the fire  - some sandwich melts, probably..  And maybe even some hot coco.  Yes, certainly some hot cocoa.  Definitely.  As a reward for all this wood-chopping.

Peter would do that.  Get up from his chilly seat by the window and do that.  But not just yet.

Because right now, Peter just wanted to watch.

------------------------------------

This has been a

production. Follow the tag #MrStarksBabyIsObvious Series to find out what ELSE we have hidden up our sleeve...

[stereotypcs]

𓏲  *   ⸺   pictures of damon jaehyun park,  the  twenty-seven  year  old  formula one driver,  have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to rumored tension in the championship team after a fight was overheard between the two teammates post race — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their red bull team hat as the only spark of color in his otherwise all black attire, pulled together by his signature leather jacket, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more charismatic than impulsive. their critics say that they’re more mercurial than dauntless when they aren’t too busy focusing on their ichor that burns in your veins , a hunger barely contained , a rage fighting for freedom ; the roar of the engine as the lights go out , a contrast to how still you become as hard-earned skills takes over ; flashing a smile that is equal parts charming and dangerous ; they warn you that like icarus you too shall fall but you only sour higher and higher - you were not so foolish to forge wings of wax. reputation.com has taken to calling them achilles in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).

basic information.

full name: damon jaehyung park. nickname(s): dae ( close friends only ). age: twenty-seven. date of birth: march 29th. birthplace: new york city , new york. astrological sign: aries. gender & pronouns: cis man , he / him. orientation: heteroromantic , heterosexual. languages: english , korean , some french & spanish. occupation: formula one driver for oracle red bull racing , current & three time world drivers' champion.

personality.

positive: charismatic ,  dauntless ,  driven , clever , adventurous , flirtatious , bold. negative: impulsive ,  mercurial ,  arrogant , combative , headstrong , unforgiving , fiery. moral alignment: chaotic good. temperament: choleric. mbti: entj - the commander. enneagram: 8w7 , the maverick.

family ties.

father: christopher park , mechanic , deceased. mother: mina park née kim , nurse. siblings: none. family financial status: grew up middle class , his success in formula one has elevated their financial status. pet: duke , a male boxer.

history.

when damon park rose to prominence in the world of motorsports, no one would be able to say nepotism or legacy had anything to do with it. born to working parents in brooklyn, his life initially looked fated to be nothing out of the ordinary. but then his father was employed as a mechanic for a formula one team when damon was five and he was exposed to the world of motorsport for the first time. all it took was going to one race with his father, in monoco of all places, and damon refused to stop asking his parents if he too could race. his mother was hesitant, knowing how dangerous the sport was, but eventually agreed.

he was six when he started karting and seven when he entered his first competition. it wasn't a smooth road at first. not due to skill, but rather money. maintaining a kart and traveling wasn't cheap, and money wasn't something the park family had in spades, but they made it work. eventually, damon started winning not only races but titles and championships, proving himself against others in the league, making a name for himself, and getting signed to a karting team. throughout it all, his father was his biggest supporter. they worked on maintaining damon's kart together, discussed strategies, and christopher, who was still working in f1 and therefore traveling with the team, did his best to attend every practice or competition he could. when damon wasn't competing, he was often traveling with his father, his parents having agreed to homeschool him so he could dedicate himself fully to his dream.

the stars seemed to be aligning; he had graduated from karting to formula three, and he also joined the red bull junior team. it was all but confirmed that the next year he'd be brought up to formula one, skipping over f2 entirely, as a driver for red bull's secondary team, torro rosso. and then his father got sick. it was sudden and fast. damon barely had time to come to terms with the fact that his father was terminal before he was gone. the loss hit hard. were it not for his mother keeping him from acting rashly, damon might've left racing altogether. it'd always been something his father and him had done together whether it be watching races, working on cars, or discussing strategies. but grief faded and was replaced with determination. his father wouldn't have wanted him to give up so he wouldn't; he'd make history.

he didn't look back after debuting as a formula one driver at only seventeen years old. the entire time damon kept his eyes on his goals the entire time, adding victory after victory to his resume until he claimed his first world drivers' championship, followed by his second the next year, and his third the year after. the eyes of the world were on him. some of his fellow drivers preferred avoiding the spotlight but after working so hard to get to where he was, damon loved it, embracing the more glamorous lifestyle his growing success provided him, always having a smile for the cameras, so long as it didn't interfere with his racing. he might've been considered the golden boy of f1 were it not for his quick temper, because for as cool behind the wheel and charming off track as damon could be, his temper was just as fiery. if an article wasn't writing about his latest victory or public appearance then odds were damon was making headlines for getting into fights, normally verbal but he was caught throwing a few punches over the years.

inevitably it led to conflict amongst the team, particularly when damon and his fellow driver began getting into more arguments recently. his manager would tell him he needed get a better handle on his attitude, but damon knew that with his reputation and success, he wasn't really at risk of being dropped from the team. he's at the top of the world and has no intentions of coming down anytime soon.

headcanons.

known for his fearless and daring driving style. his overtaking skills are considered legendary amongst the f1 community. also well known for working with the team to plan out his race strategies, including adapting the plan mid-race based on how the car is feeling.

it's very rare for his temper to show itself during a race. his radio messages to his engineer normally calm regardless of what is happening on track, which then causes surprise when, if damon disagrees with the team instructions, he simply ignores them or when post race he'll confront another driver for a racing incident despite sounding calm when it happened.

mama's boy. the first big purchase he made with his winnings was to get her a penthouse apartment in new york. has told her repeatedly that she doesn't have to keep working but she insists she wants to.

actually a skilled mechanic in his own right. he likes to fix up cars in his spare time.

extremely charming. damon knows how to play the role for the cameras, and he plays it extremely well. but he can also turn it off equally as fast if someone pushes his buttons regardless if the cameras are still rolling.

isn't afraid to flirt and has dated casually but only had one serious relationship that ended suddenly two years ago and quickly became a topic that his team tell interviewers they aren't allowed to ask about.

owner of am act first, think second kind of mindset.

his go to mode of transportation is his motorcycle.

hates being a passenger when someone else drives but he also doesn't know how to drive slow so not many people like when he drives.

a huge adrenaline junkie! always up for going on an adventure. the bigger adrenaline rush it provides the better. during the off season, he often goes rock climbing or snowboarding.

has a good heart beneath his rough edges. the people who he is close to quickly discover that damon is incredibly loyal and protective; his friends are his family.

[gildcdglory]

APPLICATION.

*     ◟    :    〔   ryan destiny  , cis woman , she + her   〕      maeve sinclair,  some say you’re a thirty-year-old lost soul among the neon lights. known for being patient and aloof,  one can’t help but think of yellow flicker beat by lorde when you walk by. are you still an associate / freelance locksmith/ at hanging man, even with your reputation as the moon? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and soft echoes of locks coming undone under your touch, a quiet anger burning a hole in your chest after the taste of betrayal, the weight of a shattered legacy burying itself into your shoulders,  although we can’t help but think of sun bak (sense8), mikasa ackerman (attack on titan), and temperance brennan (bones)  when we see you down these rainy streets.      (  alyx, 25, she/her, est )

FILE.

full name: maeve sinclair, though she's gone by several aliases in the past

age: thirty

gender / pronouns: cis woman, she/her

orientation: bisexual

affiliation: associate for hanging man

occupation: locksmith/safe cracker/thief for hire

family: clark sinclair (father, presumed alive), siobhan sinclair (mother, presumed alive), UTP sinclair (brother, alive)

faceclaim: ryan destiny

inspiration: sun bak (sense8), mikasa ackerman (attack on titan), temperance brennan (bones)

Pinterest

BIOGRAPHY.

You were born into a legacy that echoed through the halls of the underworld. The Sinclair family was well-known in the underground thief world due to the family's long lineage and knack for getting away and leaving no trace behind. You were just another jewel on top of the Sinclair crown-- a daughter created to help continue to build the reputation and rob the world blind.

You and your brother began training for heists from an early age. Your family sought to determine the best fit for your skills, to see where they could place you in the family's never-ending puzzle. They initially tried to train you to follow in your mother's footsteps as a grifter, then shifted to see how well you'd do in your father's role as a mastermind. You weren't nearly charming enough for your mother's legacy, and though you did well under your father's tutelage, your eyes were always drawn to safes, locks, and uncrackable codes.

Your father longed to make you his heir, to pass down the mastermind role to you once he retired, but even he couldn't deny your skill with picking locks and opening safes. You soon became accepted as your family's safe cracker/locksmith, and your brother, though he tried to earn the approval of your parents, got defaulted into the lookout/getaway driver position.

The four of you flew around the world to rob safely guarded banks of all their contents. Your diverse skillset helped create an almost formulaic process that helped keep you all from getting caught by the police or tipping off the bank owners of your arrival. Your dynamic operated smoothly for years, but everything came to an end when you targeted the Bank of England.

The evening had gone smoothly at first. Everyone had their assignments, and for the most part, they operated as they normally had. Your father had scoped out the places weeks ago, so he worked on sharing the locations of the security cameras, vault, guard rotation schedule, and additional information. Your mother went in and distracted the guards and bank tellers, you slipped past her and made your way toward the vault, and your brother was there to let everyone know if any dangers lurked around the corner.

The evening went downhill about halfway through the mission. Your father's communication device was the first to shut down, but not before you first a slight gasp from the other end of the line. You struggled between wandering back to check on him and moving forward with the mission, but ultimately, you knew which choice he'd prefer. The choice became harder when your mother's communication device shut down moments later. You heard a scream on the other end, but you were in the middle of cracking open the safe, so you decided to stay put. You only left when you heard the panic in your brother's voice as he asked you to abort the mission and slip away with him.

The first thing you saw when you emerged from the bank were the police cars scattered around the area. The second thing you saw were your parents in handcuffs. The last thing you witnessed was a horrifying smirk on your brother's face as he pointed you out to the cops. You knew he wasn't satisfied with his current position, knew he longed to do something other than stay behind and monitor the situation, but you didn't expect he'd sell out your entire family just for a chance of notoriety and fame.

You were always the quiet, sensible daughter, but as you sat in prison because of your brother's betrayal, a small flame of anger began making a home in your chest. You watched the news as they discussed your brother, aptly named "the thief who catches thieves," and you vowed to make him and his allies pay.

Now that you're out of prison and working for HANGING MAN, you know your goals have a chance of becoming accomplished. You just need to do what you do best--- wait in the shadows, consider things from all angles, and strike when you know he'll least expect it.

CONNECTIONS.

I'll dive into these more once I finish my WC page, but here are some quick ideas:

Individuals who have been robbed by Maeve in the past. Typically her family robs banks or companies, but they've done a few house robberies if they know the contents are worth the effort.

Individuals who have hired her to steal stuff. She's always down to help steal items from someone's home or help a disgruntled ex-employee punish the corporation they got fired from.

People who would recognize her from the underground thief circles. Anyone who has done a lot of professional heists in the past might recognize her last name, but UTP whether they'd know her specifically or just remember her family's legacy and downfall.

Members of the government who are friendly with her brother. She'd love to take you down as well :)) gotta crush everything her brother holds dear.

An ex-spouse/fiance/partner. Maybe it was someone she was using for info related to a heist, or maybe it was just a secret she kept from her family, since an outside relationship could've disrupted the routine they carefully crafted. either way, would be fun to see them reunite after years of being apart.

[limitlessscion]

this isnt from a meme but i have two questions: 1) what did satoru's childhood bedroom looked like? and 2) does he play video games?

what did satoru's childhood bedroom looked like?

He had two different rooms growing up.

As an infant, his room was deep within the Gojo family manor, at the center of a large compound dating back centuries that had been constructed especially for the Six Eyes child. The walls are solid with no windows, sound-proof, and are carved with charms that are fiercely protected family secrets. Spells on them prevent them from being able to be recorded manually or digitally, and memories of their existence erased when leaving the compound. The knowledge of how to activate them are bound to only the Clan Head, and the Six Eyes user themselves; nobody else is able to retain the knowledge in their minds even if they learn of it.

The charms are able to supress the effects of the Six Eyes and alter its perception in different ways. It is a necessary aspect of raising a baby that was born with the curse of the Six Eyes, to safely acclimate them to the intense amount of information and learn how to process that information correctly. However you can imagine how dangerous such spells are to the Six Eyes user if they fall into outside hands.

The compound has several layers of security outside of that central room, a lot of which was added after the assassination of a newly born Six Eyes user many generations past by Kenjaku.

When he was older, around the age of four, he was given a room in the main family living compound near the rooms of the clan head and other high-ranking members. The room was plain though; he never got a say in personalizing it. It was cleaned daily by servants, so the fact he'd drop candy wrappers on the floor or that his desk after a study session would be a mess of scrolls and notes and scattered writing utensils never stuck. Every day as he'd get ready for bed the whole room would be pristine, sterile, and lacking any touches of his personality. One time he'd stolen a sticker book from a servant child and placed some on the wall— and they'd been removed the next day.

The floors are patterned tatami, one window opened to the outside of the compound that looked out over a managed creek and koi pond with a wall of bamboo growth. The opposite wall is a shoji screen that opens into the courtyard. His bed was a western style bed by the window with a small nightstand, and the rest of the room was taken up by a work desk and bookshelf.

He was given very little privacy and agency in his life in general.

does he play video games?

Yes! His first ever video game was Pokemon Silver, given to him on his 10th birthday. Karasu, the head of his security detail, has a strong soft spot for children. For various reasons with his background, he was one of the few people who treated Satoru like a child, was not afraid of him, and had plenty of real parental experience. He'd broken a lot of rules fulfilling his promise to make Satoru's birthday that year a good one, as his birthday was actually an annual event that Satoru always hated.

Satoru poured hundreds of hours into Silver. His favourite Pokemon are Lugia and Feraligatr for that reason— in the end, he was still a simple boy who liked the cool legendary on the cover and his starter Pokemon. Once he started playing, there was no way to make him stop anymore; so Satoru's obedience and good behaviour was bought using promises of gaming time and the purchase of new games. Satoru stole extra time for himself too, often playing under the covers at night, or finding quiet hidden corners when he had little pockets of time to himself.

Fun fact: Satoru figured out how IVs and EVs and the damage formula worked entirely on his own.

He exclusively played with handheld consoles; TV consoles required sitting down in a static location with a screen, which gave him no privacy and much less opportunity to sneak gaming time in. It is for a similar reason that he never watched anime or movies, only read mangas and books.

[woman-loving]

Lesbian Unintelligibility in Pre-1989 Poland

Selection from ""No one talked about it": The Paradoxes of Lesbian Identity in pre-1989 Poland, by Magdalena Staroszczyk, in Queers in State Socialism: Cruising 1970s Poland, eds. Tomasz Basiuk and Jędrzej Burszta, 2021

The question of lesbian visibility is pertinent today because of the limited number of lesbian-oriented activist events and cultural representations. But it presents a major methodological problem when looking at the past. That problem lies in an almost complete lack of historical sources, something partly mended with oral history interviews, but also in an epistemological dilemma. How can we talk about lesbians when they did not exist as a recognizable category? What did their (supposed) non-existence mean? And should we even call those who (supposedly) did not exist “lesbians”?

To illustrate this problem, let me begin with excerpts from an interview I conducted for the CRUSEV project [a study of queer cultures in the 1970s]. My interlocutor is a lesbian woman born in the 1950s, who lived in Cracow most of her life:

“To this very day I have a problem with my brothers, as I cannot talk to them about this. They just won’t do it, I would like to talk, but. . . . They have this problem, they lace up their mouths when any reference is made to this topic, because they were raised in that reality [when] no one talked about it. It was a taboo. It still is. ... I was so weak, unable to take initiative, lacking a concept of my own life—all this testifies to the oppression of homosexual persons, who do not know how to live, have no support from [others], no information or knowledge learned at school, or from a psychologist. What did I do? I searched in encyclopaedias for the single entry, “homosexuality.” What did I learn? That I was a pervert. What did it do to me? It only hurt me, no? Q: Was the word lesbian in use? Only as a slur. Even my mother used it as an offensive word. When she finally figured out my orientation, she said the word a few times. With hatred. Hissing the word at me.”

The woman offers shocking testimony of intense and persistent hostility towards a family member—sister, daughter—who happens to be a lesbian. The brothers and the mother are so profoundly unable to accept her sexuality that they cannot speak about it at all, least of all rationally. The taboo has remained firmly in place for decades. How was it maintained? And, perhaps more importantly, how do we access the emotional reality that it caused? The quotes all highlight the theme of language, silence, and something unspeakable. Tabooization implies a gap in representation, and the appropriate word cannot be spoken but merely hissed out with hatred.

Popular discourse and academic literature alike address this problem under the rubric of “lesbian invisibility” (Mizielińska 2001). I put forward a different conceptual frame, proposing to address the question of lesbian identity in pre-1989 Poland not in terms of visibility versus invisibility, but instead in terms of cultural intelligibility versus unintelligibility. The former concepts, which have a rich history in discussions of pre-emancipatory lesbian experience, presume an already existing identity that is self-evident to the person in question. They assume the existence of a person who thinks of herself as a lesbian. One then proceeds to ask whether or not this lesbian was visible as such to others, that is, whether others viewed her as the lesbian she knew she was. Another assumption behind this framing is that the woman in question wished to be visible although this desired visibility had been denied her. These are some of the essentializing assumptions inscribed in the concept of (in)visibility. Their limitation is that they only allow us to ask whether or not the lesbian is seen for who she feels she is and wishes to be seen by others.

By contrast, (un)intelligibility looks first to the social construction of identity, especially to the constitutive role of language. To think in those terms is to ask under what conditions same-sex desire between women is culturally legible as constitutive of an identity. So, instead of asking if people saw lesbians for who they really were, we will try to understand the specific epistemic conditions which made some women socially recognizable to others, and also to themselves, as “lesbians.” This use of the concept “intelligibility” is analogous to its use by Judith Butler in Gender Trouble, as she explains why gender conformity is key to successful personhood[...].

For Butler, cultural intelligibility is thus an aspect of the social norm, as it corresponds to “a normative ideal.” It is one of the conditions of coherence and continuity requisite for successful personhood. In a similar vein, to say that lesbians in the People’s Republic of Poland were not culturally intelligible is of course not to claim that there were no women engaged in same-sex romantic and erotic relationships—such a conclusion would be absurd, as well as untrue. It is, rather, to suggest that “lesbian” was not a category of personhood available or, for that matter, desirable to many nonheteronormative women. The word was not in common use and it did not signify to them the sort of person they felt they were. Nor was another word readily available, as interlocutors’ frequent periphrases strongly suggest, for example, “I cannot talk to them about this. ... They ... lace up their mouths when any reference is made to this topic” (my emphases).

Interviews conducted with women for the CRUSEV project are filled with pain due to rejection. So are the interviews conducted by Anna Laszuk, whose Dziewczyny, wyjdźcie z szafy (Come Out of the Closet, Girls! 2006 ) was a pioneering collection of herstories which gave voice to non-heteronormative Polish women of different ages, including those who remember the pre-1989 era. Lesbian unintelligibility is arguably a major theme in the collection. The pain caused by the sense of not belonging expressed by many illustrates that being unintelligible can be harmful. At the same time, unintelligibility had some practical advantages. The main among them was relative safety in a profoundly heteronormative society. As long as things went unnamed, a women-loving woman was not in danger of stigmatization or social ostracism.

Basia, born in 1939 and thus the oldest among Laszuk’s interviewees, offers a reassuring narrative in which unintelligibility has a positive valence:

“I cannot say a bad word about my parents. They knew but they did not comment. . . . My parents never asked me personal questions, never exerted any kind of pressure on me to get married. They were people of great culture, very understanding, and they quite simply loved me. They would meet my various girlfriends, but these were never referred to as anything but “friends” (przyjaciółki). Girls had it much easier than boys because intimacy between girls was generally accepted. Nobody was surprised that I showed up with a woman, invited her home, held her hand, or that we went on trips together.” (Laszuk 2006, 27)

The gap between visceral knowing and the impossibility of naming is especially striking in this passage. The parents “knew” and Basia knew that they knew, but they did not comment, ask questions, or make demands, and Basia clearly appreciates their silence as a favour. To her, it was a form of politeness, discreetness, perhaps even protectiveness. The silence was, in fact, a form of affectionate communication: “they quite simply loved me.”

Another of Laszuk’s interviewees is Nina, born around 1945 and 60 years old at the time of the interview. With a certain nostalgia, Nina recalls the days when certain things were left unnamed, suggesting that there is erotic potential in the unintelligibility of women’s desire. Laszuk summarizes her views:

“Nina claims that those times certainly carried a certain charm: erotic relationships between women, veiled with understatement and secrecy, had a lot of beauty to them. Clandestine looks were exchanged above the heads of people who remained unaware of their meaning, as women understood each other with half a gesture, between words. Nowadays, everything has a name, everything is direct.” (Laszuk 2006, 33)

A similar equation between secrecy and eroticism is drawn by the much younger Izabela Filipiak, trailblazing author of Polish feminist fiction in the 1990s and the very first woman in Poland to publicly come out as lesbian, in an interview for the Polish edition of Cosmopolitan in 1998. Six years later, Filipiak suggested a link between things remaining unnamed and erotic pleasure, and admitted to a certain nostalgia for this pre-emancipatory formula of lesbian (non)identity. Her avowed motivation was not the fear of stigmatization but a desire for erotic intensity:

“When love becomes passion in which I lose myself, I stop calculating, stop comparing, no longer anchor it in social relations, or some norm. I simply immerse myself in passion. My feelings condition and justify everything that happens from that point on. I do not reflect upon myself nor dwell on stigma because my feeling is so pure that it burns through and clears away everything that might attach to me as a woman who loves women.” (Kulpa and Warkocki 2004)

Filipiak acknowledges the contemporary, “postmodern” (her word) lesbian identity which requires activism and entails enumerating various kinds of discrimination. But paradoxically—considering that she is the first public lesbian in Poland—she speaks with much more enthusiasm about the “modernist lesbians” described by Baudelaire:

“They chose the path of passion. Secrecy and passion. Of course, their passion becomes a form of consent to remain secret, to stay invisible to others, but this is not unambivalent. I once talked to such an “oldtimer” who lived her entire life in just that way and she protested very strongly when I made a remark about hiding. Because, she says, she did not hide anything, she drove all around the city with her beloved and, of course, everyone knew. Yes, everyone knew, but nobody remembers it now, there is no trace of all that.” (Kulpa and Warkocki 2004)

Cultural unintelligibility causes the gap between “everyone knew” and “nobody remembers” but it is also the source of excitement and pleasure. For Filipiak’s “old-timer” and her predecessors, Baudelaire’s modernist lesbians, the evasion, or rejection, of identity and the maintaining of secrecy is the path of passion. Crucially, these disavowals of identity mobilize a discourse of freedom rather than hiding, entrapment, or staying in the closet. The lack of a name is interpreted as an unmooring from language and a liberation from its norms.

Needless to say, cultural unintelligibility may also lead to profound torment and self-hatred. In the concept of nationhood generated by nationalists and by the Catholic Church in Poland, lesbians (seen stereotypically) are double outsiders whose exclusion from language is vital.[1] A repentant homosexual woman named Katarzyna offers her testimony in a Catholic self-help manual addressing those who wish to be cured of homosexuality. (It is irrelevant for my purpose whether the testimony is authentic; my interest is in the discursive construction of lesbian identity as literally impossible and nonexistent.) Katarzyna speaks about her search for love, her profound sense of guilt and her disgust with herself. The word “lesbian” is never used; her homosexuality is framed as confusion and as straying from her true desire for God. The origin of the pain is the woman’s unintelligibility to herself:

“Only I knew how much despair there was in my life on account of being different. First, there was the sense of being torn apart when I realized how different my desires were from the appearance of my body. Despite the storm of homosexual desire, I was still a woman. Then, the question: What to do with myself? How to live?” (Huk 1996, 121)

A woman cannot love other women—the subject knows this. We can speculate that her knowledge is due to her Catholic upbringing; she has internalized the teaching that homosexuality is a sin, and thus untrue and not real. The logic of the confession is overdetermined: the only way for her to become intelligible to herself is to abandon same-sex desire and turn to God, and through him to men. Church language thus frames homosexuality as chaos: it is a disordered space where no appropriate language can obtain. Within this frame, unintelligibility is anything but erotic. It is rather an instrument of shaming and, once internalized, a symptom of shame.

For many, the experience of unintelligibility is moored in intense heteronormativity, without regard to Church teachings or the language of national belonging. Struggling with the choice between social intelligibility available to straights and leading an authentic life outside the realm of intelligibility, one CRUSEV interlocutor, aged 67, describes her youth in 1960s and 1970s:

“I always knew I was a lesbian ... and if I am one, then I will be one. Yes, in that sense. And not to live the life of a married woman, mother and so on. This life wasn’t my life at all. However, as I said, it was fine in an external sense. So calm and well-ordered: a husband, nice children, everything, everything. But it was external, and my life was not my life at all, it wasn’t me.”

She thus underscores her internal sense of dissonance, a felt incompatibility with the social role she was playing. The role model of a wife and mother was available to her, but a lesbian role model was not.

The discomfort felt at the unavailability of a role model may have had different consequences. Another CRUSEV interviewee, aged 62, describes her impulse to change her life so as to authentically experience her feelings for another woman, in contrast to that woman’s ex:

“She visited me a few times, and it was enough that I wrote something, anything ... [and] she would get on the train and travel across the country. There were no telephones then, during martial law. Regardless of anything, she would be there. And at one point I realized that I ... damn, I loved her. ... She broke up with her previous girlfriend very violently—this may interest you—because it turned out that the girl was so terribly afraid of being exposed and of some unimaginable consequences that she simply ran away.”

The fear of exposure, critically addressed by the interlocutor, was nonetheless something she, too, experienced. She goes on to speak of “hiding a secret” and “stifling” her emotions.

A concern with leading an inauthentic life resurfaces in the account of the afore-quoted woman, aged 67:

“I couldn’t reveal my secret to anyone. The only person who knew was my friend in Cracow. I led such a double life, I mean. ... It is difficult to say if this was a life, because it was as if I had my inner spirituality and my inner world, entirely secret, but outside I behaved like all the other girls, so I went out with some boys. ... It was always deeply suppressed by me and I was always fighting with myself. I mean, I fell in love [with women] and did everything to fall out of love [laughter]. On and on again.”

Her anxiety translates into self-pathologizing behaviour:

“In 1971 I received my high school diploma and I was already . . . in a relationship of some years with my high school girlfriend. . . . But because we both thought we were abnormal, perverted or something, somehow we wanted to be cured, and so she was going to college to Cracow, and I to Poznań. We engaged in geographic therapy, so to speak.”

The desire to “be cured” from homosexuality recurs in a number of interviews. Sometimes it has a factual dimension, as interlocutors describe having undergone psychotherapy and even reparative therapy—of course, to no avail.

Others decide to have a relationship with a woman after years spent in relationships with men. Referring to her female partner of 25 years, who had previously been married to a man, one of my interlocutors suggests that her partner had been disavowing her homosexual desires for many years before the two women’s relationship began: “the truth is that H. had struggled with it for more than 20 years and she was probably not sure what was going on.” Despite this presumed initial confusion, the women’s relationship had already lasted for more than 25 years at the time I conducted the interview.

Recognizing one’s homosexual desires did not necessarily have to be difficult or shocking. It was not for this woman, aged 66 at the time of the interview:

“It was obvious to me. I didn’t, no, no, I didn’t suppress it, I knew that [I was going], “Oh, such a nice girl, I like this one, with this one I want to be close, with that one I want to talk longer, with that one I want to spend time, with that one I want, for example, to embrace her neck or grab her hand”.”

Rather, what came as a shock was the unavailability of any social role or language corresponding to this felt desire that came as a shock. The woman continues:

“It turned out that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, that I couldn’t tell anyone. I realized this when I grew up and watched my surroundings, family, friends, society. I saw that this topic was not there! If it’s not there, how can I get it out of myself? I wasn’t so brave.”

The tabooization of homosexuality—its unintelligibility—is a recurring thread in these accounts; what varies is the extent to which it marred the subjects’ self-perception.

[twstheadcanons]

Any hcs for pomefiore, like how its students interact socially. Or hcs on the etiquette lessons?

this is long

·         I stand by what I said about Savanaclaw – Night Raven College has a bunch of stupid high school boys in its student body.  Being in Pomefiore does not erase your dumb high school energy.  It is just redirected.  As the oldest dorm, Pomefiore has some antiquated decour, and its own pride in maintaining them, including its gratuitous amount of candles strewn about.  Are the candlelit flames real?  Yes.  Can students touch them and light them themselves? Absolutely not.  They’re enchanted to light up and extinguish on their own. Vil’s seen firsthand how hotheaded and confrontational Pomefiore students can be.  He finds enchanted candles reasonable.  

·         There’s a garden in the back of the dorm building.  As the dorm known for its prowess in poisons and potions, it’s important for Pomefiore students to be able to identify specific types of flora commonly used in formulas, alongside their potential benefits and dangers.

·         Gardening can be grueling, especially when dealing with tricky, difficult flora. Vil has extensive instructions under his belt when it comes to making sure all students do their part (there is no avoiding gardening duty).  As such, alongside gardening itself, he’s put a lot of time and effort researching and specialising methods to minimise/mitigate the amount of mess and physical involved – and that’s without cutting corners.  Every new year brings in new students with their own personal strengths, so he has to make sure no stone goes unturned.

·         That said, absolutely no one shares gardening gloves.  Crowley is crying at the expenses of just damn gardening gloves but Vil is Not going to budge.

·         Of course, the apple trees are ones Pomefiore plants as well.  It’s their signature after all.  Rook hawk eyes both the trees’ growth and makes sure no one’s snagging them beforehand.  Ever since Epel enrolled, he’s lowkey more instructive of the process whenever Vil’s not around.  He’s also got his own shortcuts and tricks for general gardening.  Having a more hands-on approach since birth, it comes naturally to him.

·         Like, no offence, but the Pomefiore apples are not as good as the ones the Felmiers grow.

·         Epel is constantly on the verge of going apeshit when something he KNOWS he’s good at and knows his shit about is getting nitpicked, so for Vil’s safety I am making the executive decision that Vil’s noticed Epel sometimes taking charge in helping other students and just lets Epel do his own thing when it comes to helping out with Pomefiore’s plants and apples.

·         Honestly, having the two different approaches work in Pomefiore’s favour.  Some students need/want more structure and guidance, making Vil a better option.  Others benefit from Epel’s self-assured, informal approach since it makes it seem less daunting for beginners.

·         Rook likes to indulge himself when it comes to apples.  By that I mean he likes to ‘help’ students ‘slice’ their apples by doing the classic arrow-through-the-apple thing.  A lot of students think it’s actually pretty awesome.  

·         Right up until Rook asks for a volunteer to have the apple on their head.

·         The science club actually has its fair share of Pomefiore students apart from Rook.  Some are simply following the example of a generally respected vice-leader, whilst other took it for their own interests.

·         The same goes for film appreciation.   While small and mostly Pomefiore students under Vil’s lead, it’s a close circle of students working together.

·         The ballroom, like gardening, requires its own care and maintenance.  Keeping floors, windows, and mirrors clean.  This actually goes for the entire dorm, but the ballroom hosts a lot of Pomefiore’s recreational and group events (makes for a good place for film appreciation rehearsals).

·         Another reason it’s important to keep the dorm itself clean overall: absolutely no one wants perfume and cologne just lingering in furniture.  That is not the life anyone wants.  Ever.

·         This is something Rook’s especially quick to get on others’ cases about (in his own Rook Hunt way that is).  He’s a hunter, so he doesn’t want to risk even the most wonderful of scents blowing his cover.

·         Speaking of Rook, if you’re familiar with French in Pomefiore, but don’t use it often.  You Do Now for the sake of your fellow dormmates that want to know what the hell Rook is saying.

·         Students in Pomefiore tend to grow up into more hands-on careers.  Of course, there’s the ones in professions like show business, fashion, and cosmetology, but other common careers they gravitate to are generally science or fine arts related.

·         If you know what’s good for you, and you’re interested in fashion, start learning about the ethical issues and dangers of fast fashion ASAP.  As someone surrounded by aesthetics and designs, Vil knows his shit and idealistic views that overlook the shady business practises of even big-name groups get under his skin fast.  In general, as passionate as he is in his line of work, Vil’s still disillusioned to the glitz and glamour of it, which is why he takes such an aggressive stance on his own management.

·         Since first years share four students in one dorm room, Epel’s roommates will never escape the apple smell.  It’s gone from charming, to a bit sickening, to being plain desentisised to the scent. While all three are kind of over having an apple or apple juice every time Epel’s family sends them, they’ll happily accept them from time to time.  The apple juice especially is popular since it makes for a refreshing change from water.

·         Makeup brand debates.  They’re a thing.  Vil mostly thinks they’re dumb on a surface level since people just gravitate to what works for them and is within their budget but if you ask he’s got dirt on which brands have the worst practises that don’t need Anyone’s money.

·         Considering his ‘villain’ typecasting the guy has no fear using his platform to be outspoken on those types of issues which is why a lot of Pomefiore students end up actually respecting him outside his acting and modeling career.

·         For the record, it’s not like Epel’s the only student from a rural background in Pomefiore. There are plenty of others, it’s just that they didn’t literally get into a fight with a dorm leader during the opening ceremony.

·         The way he acts with Epel early on, however, does leave a rather unflattering impression on said rural students.  Epel doesn’t really keep his background a secret, so it’s easy to hear Vil scold Epel’s informal, direct way of speaking as him disliking the actual accents a country person may have.  So like. Vil’s gotta work on clearing that up with them, lol.

·         This is a “Vil’s done a good number of things wrong” zone regardless of his background and actual intent and also a “Pomefiore isn’t only about beauty but considering the way its students act and speak in general Uhhhhh” so as focused as Vil is on image and Pomefiore on seeming ‘proper’ I am Forcing him to reevaluate his approach to educating less experienced students on westernised and Eurocentric etiquette expectations.   You’re going to have students with staunchly different mannerisms and ideas of etiquette that do not affect their work ethic whatsoever sweetie.  

·         In a similar vein, older Pomefiore students that happen to be beastfolk (I’d like to imagine the Mirror of Darkness doesn’t magically toss Savanaclaw into some unholy ‘this is the beastfolk ghetto’ hell.  Do not burst my bubble I won’t listen) usually end up being tightknit with first years.  Honestly how else are first-years going to survive Rook Hunt being their vice-leader.

Vil also takes his own measures to minimise how up in their business Rook gets with Pomefiore’s own beastfolk.  

Being a detail-oriented dorm, Pomefiore has the most amount of students experienced in hands-on work and crafts.  If the individual students get along, Savanaclaw and Pomefiore students can get a lot done when they put their minds to it.

“Absolutely Beautiful” blasting from the ballroom at 5am so the less morning-inclined can wake up properly for the next three weeks.

·         Look Vil and Rook have particularly polarising personalities you cannot expect the entire dorm to worship them nor their way of doing things.

·         Master Chef, although a small elective, also has its fair share of Pomefiore students.  Something about a practical skills class appeals to them, and it actually makes for relaxing classwork.  

·         First dorm that sorts out people’s allergies.  If you think it’s excessive Pomefiore has forms prepared for new students to fill out regarding any extenuating circumstances and conditions think again. No health accidents happening in this dorm.

·         Mentions of students struggling tend to result in other students helping each other out. Study groups are pretty encouraged within the dorm if it works out for the people involved.  The lounge aside, the ballroom’s surprisingly popular for study groups when it’s not in-use for anything else.

[sailorfailures]

I fell in love with these postcards from the Girl’s Night Out popup cafe the moment I saw them! I knew I had to get my hands on them, and the lovely @blaze-rocket was able to help that happen.

I cannot get over how perfect these postcards are. To me, this is what Sailor Moon is; a testament to the little moments from the series that made us fall in love with the characters, especially how their personal preferences were reflected in their fashion choices. In a world of merch where it’s easy to just slap a random crescent moon on something pink and say “look, it’s Usagi,” the designer responsible for these graphics went the extra mile to take imagery from the show itself that needles its way deep into our nostalgia-cortexes.

How many references do you recognise? Quiz yourself against this comprehensive (image-heavy) list! 👇

The inners’ postcards all reference the eye-catching sign for Game Center Crown, the iconic arcade where Motoki Furuhata worked and the gang would all congregate to play games and share information.

Starting in R they switched to hanging out at Fruits Parlor Crown, a cafe attached to the arcade staffed by Motoki’s sister Unazuki, which the Inners’ postcards all also reference. They would often get brightly-coloured drinks there, but the drinks pictured on these postcards seem to specifically line up with the real drinks available at the Girls Night Out popup cafe.

Sailors Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto’s postcards all reference “Café Étrangère,” which was the name of the cafe they were seen dining at in the Sailor Moon S movie. Even the logo is replicated faithfully from a scene only a few seconds long.

All the girls’ clothes are hanging on coat hangers shaped like Luna/Artemis/Diana.

Ami / Sailor Mercury’s references:

Ami’s casual outfit is an unusual choice since she only wore it a handful of times over the entire series, and half the times she wore it, it was given a different colour scheme with a green jacket instead of the yellow version pictured here.

Her “mini data computer” is her most iconic tool/weapon/accessory, revealed in episode 009, directly after her introduction.

The pink package is how Usagi and the other girls wrapped up her transformation stick and communicator watch as Ami’s going-away present in episode 062.

The ice cream may be a reference to the same episode, as she shared a cone with Chibi-Usa before she left, and returned to the store to protect her friends from the Droid Nihpasu.

The flash cards are a method Ami commonly used to help her study, and are particularly similar to the ones shown in the SuperS short “Ami’s First Love”.

Rei / Sailor Mars’s References:

Rei wore her casual outfit fairly frequently, starting and most notably in the beginning of the Sailor Moon R movie.

The small red o-mamori charm is from Hikawa Shrine, seen frequently but introduced in episode 010.

The paper ofuda ward was used frequently by Rei to fight evil, even before she could transform, but most notably in the attack sequence for “Akuryou, Taisan” (“Foul Spirit, Begone”).

To my knowledge the purple bag isn’t a specific reference, but Rei did throw a similar purse at a Cardian as a makeshift weapon in episode 048 before she got her Guardian memories back.

The gift-wrapped shopping boxes are the exact same ones as carried by Rei in the Sailor Moon Sailor Stars opening sequence before she trips and falls, right down to the patterns on the paper...

... which in itself may be a reference/callback to Rei’s tendency to make Yuuichirou carry her shopping (maybe so she doesn’t trip).

The phoenix-shaped pendant is a reference to episode 183; it’s made of glazed ceramic, crafted by Rei’s cousin Kengo Ibuki, given to her as a child after she convinced him not to smash it even though he his pottery a “failure”.

Makoto / Sailor Jupiter’s References:

Makoto didn’t start wearing her casual outfit until around S, but she wore it frequently after that, especially as she became more confident wearing “feminine” clothing. They even remembered her iconic gold wrist watch worn over her sleeve!

Her uniquely decorated bento bag debuted in episode 026, her introductory episode, along with the rounded green cutlery. The pouch has been featured a few more times since and its design is a mainstay in almost every Sailor Moon canon.

The teal hairtie and the rose-shaped earrings are two of Makoto’s iconic accessories, some of the only non-magical fashion accessories in the entire series to stay the same whether the character is transformed or not (the other being Minako’s infamous red bow). Her earrings also served a dual purpose as makeshift projectile weapons in episode 025.

The blue book is 月夜の天馬 (Tsukiyo no Tenma, “The Moonlit Pegasus”), a novel which was written by Tomoko Takase and introduced in epsode 134. Makoto knew Tomoko from her old middle school, before she transferred, and was the first one to read her first draft after retrieving it from bullies. She encouraged Tomoko to try and get it published. Makoto meets with her again and helps her overcome her writer’s block to finish her sequel, 天馬幻想 (Tenma Gensou, “Pegasus Fantasy”).

Minako / Sailor Venus’s References:

This is one of Minako’s most-worn casual outfits, especially if you consider the additional outfits based off it. Despite its prevalence, she didn’t start wearing it until the beginning of S.

Minako’s red hair ribbon is her most iconic accessory, but did you know why she started wearing it? The Codename: Sailor V prequel manga explains that she started wearing the ribbon instead of her usual red hairtie on the suggestion of her “first crush” Higashi. But when he turns out to be an enemy in disguise, she decides she looks good with a ribbon anyway, and keeps wearing it for her own benefit.

The red mask is a reference to Minako’s role as Sailor V before joining the team as Sailor Venus. Sailor V was known as a mysterious vigilante superhero and a fictional video game character as early as episode 001, but in episode 033 Minako revealed herself to the rest of the Sailor Team, dramatically removing her mask one final time.

Minako was known to be a skilled volleyball player, especially in the manga, and it was especially relevant in episode 100 where she had to delicately return the serve of an energy sphere containing the Pure Heart of her old volleyball crush, Asai.

The sign with Minako’s name can be seen hanging off the front of her bedroom door in episode 192.

[Manga scan courtesy of Miss Dream.]

Usagi / Sailor Moon’s References:

Usagi wore this outfit in the Sailor Moon R movie, making it a memorable choice. Although the movie aired roughly midway through R, Usagi didn’t start to wear this outfit casually again until the S season.

Usagi is shown eating a lot of food, especially sweets, but she seems to have a particular fondness for crepes, snacking on them in several different episodes.

In episode 143 we can see that Usagi is very technologically trendy - for the times. She’s carrying that blue-and-pink pager which she and Mamoru use to contact each other by way of goroawase, that is, deciphering messages based on the different pronunciations of numbers, a precursor to modern texting. Mamoru pages her the numbers 84 51, which could be read as hachi yon go ichi; reading only the first syllables, and substituting go for the related sound ko, Usagi would interpret the message as hayo koi, which sounds a bit like “come quick” - she’s late for their date. Oops!

By the way, pagers were often called “pocket bells” (pokeberu) in Japan, and became so rapidly popular they even found their way into the lyrics of Rashiku Ikimasho, the ending song for the SuperS season; 「泣きたい時には ポケベルならしてよんで、戦士の休息」 [Nakitai toki ni wa POKEBELL narashite yonde, senshi no kyuusoku] “If you feel like crying, send a page thru the Pocket Bell, take a break from [being a] Guardian”

Chibi-Usa / Sailor Chibi Moon’s References:

Chibi-Usa doesn’t technically have a school uniform, but her casual clothes are often styled after sailor suits as a reflection of both her idolisation of the figure of “Sailor Moon” and of her desire to be seen as older and more mature than she appears. She changes “uniforms” every season, and this pinafore outfit is the version she wears in SuperS. She wore the other outfit in the SuperS premiere episode.

The handgun is from episode 060, Chibi-Usa’s introduction to the series and arguably one of the most iconic absurdist scenes in all of Sailor Moon. The gun itself is actually a toy, probably a transformation of the Luna-P sphere, which Chibi-Usa uses to try and threaten Usagi into giving her the Legendary Silver Crystal. When she “shoots” Usagi, the bullet is revealed to be nothing but a suction-cup flower, also pictured. (By the way, if you were wondering, Chibi-Usa’s fake gun is based on a real Colt M1911A1.) She transforms the Luna-P into a toy gun to shoot Sailor Moon again in the Sailor Moon R movie, this time as a way to motivate Usagi to fight.

The Luna-P sphere was a mysterious gadget Chibi-Usa kept with her for the duration of R and parts of S. It’s unknown where it came from, but it could be assumed to have been created from advanced 30th century technology. It was a combination toy and tool which could transform itself into a variety of objects, formulas, and even weapons, though none were shown to be particularly powerful. It could also be used to communicate with Sailor Pluto at the Time-Space Door. When Chibi-Usa was manipulated into becoming Wicked Lady in episode 085, the Luna-P sphere also transformed into an “evil” and much more dangerous version.

The Space-Time Key was a special tool given to her by Sailor Pluto that allowed her to travel between the past and the future, though it was difficult for her to wield effectively.

The sunhat was given to Chibi-Usa by Ikuko, so she treasured it greatly. In episode 112 it got blown away and was retrieved by Hotaru Tomoe, which allowed her to meet Chibi-Usa and marked the beginning of their close friendship.

The blue-and-red package was a gift containing two manga books (”Drop Drop” vol. 1 & 2 by Ukon Katakuri) which Chibi-Usa intended to give to her new friend Hotaru in episode 113.

In episode 127, Chibi-Usa returned home to the future, and the girls all made her some going-away gifts. Ami made her a floppy disk (lol) to help her study, Rei made her a casette tape (double lol) of her music, Makoto packed her a lunch, and Minako made her a photo album of their time together. Usagi hand-sewed Chibi-Usa the rabbit-shaped backpack using a real outfit she used to love when she was a child.

Michiru / Sailor Neptune’s References:

This is a somewhat unusual choice for Michiru’s casual outfit, as she only wore it for two episodes, and that’s only because they made up a two-part story. But perhaps because the episodes were so pivotal - with Haruka and Michiru almost learning Usagi’s true identity - the outfit itself became more memorable.

Not only do they include Michiru’s violin, but they included the lemon she bounced off the instrument as she played to show off her skills in episode 093.

The teacup, teaspoon and saucer are the same set Michiru was seen drinking from at Fruits Parlor Crown in episode 094.

Michiru and Haruka both reference episode 095, where they had to enter a “true love” contest as part of their investigation. The contestants were asked to find their partner’s hand in an anonymous lineup, and Haruka was able to identify Michiru’s hand immediately.

Michiru used Haruka as a model for an illustration in her green sketchbook in episode 106.

Michiru’s Talisman is the Deep Aqua Mirror, revealed in episode 110 and used in her attack Submarine Reflection. She could also use it to receive prophetic visions. Visually, it was based on real-life art nouveau hand mirrors, and symbolically represented the mirror from the Three Sacred Treasures.

Haruka / Sailor Uranus’s References:

Conversely, Haruka wore this outfit a lot. Maybe more than she should’ve.

The teacup and saucer is the same set Haruka was seen drinking from at Fruits Parlor Crown in episode 094.

Haruka’s postcard also references the lovers contest in episode 095 (see above).

The purple scarf is from episode 096; Haruka was wearing it as a necktie when she almost ran into Makoto on her motorcycle. Haruka used the scarf to bandage Makoto’s road rash, which she returned later, though now smitten.

Not only is Haruka’s motorcycle included, they also referenced (one of) her car(s), the 1968 Toyota 2000GT.

Haruka’s Talisman is the Space Sword, revealed in episode 110 and used in her attack Space Sword Blaster. Symbolically it represented the sword from the Three Sacred Treasures.

Setsuna / Sailor Pluto’s References:

Setsuna didn’t have a school uniform, since she wasn’t a student, so she got to double-up on her casual outfits. Her mauve outfit is her most recognisable, wearing it so often it may as well have been her uniform. In fact, she was rarely seen wearing anything else until Sailor Stars, where she started experimenting with other outfits, including the Time Lord-esque suit on the right.

The potted plant is a Tellun, the energy-draining plant created by Tellu in episode 121. Setsuna was investigating it when it attempted to attack her, but she was protected by her Talisman, the Garnet Orb (also pictured, representing the jewel in the Three Sacred Treasures). She then went on to destroy the remaining Tellun plants and defeat Tellu with the help of Sailor Moon, Sailor Chibi Moon, and Tuxedo Mask.

The teacup and saucer are the same set Setsuna is seen drinking from at Cafe Etranger in the Sailor Moon S movie.

In episode 182, the girls are discussing the mysterious arrival of Chibi Chibi while eating ice cream on a hot summer’s day. Setsuna appears out of nowhere to confirm their suspicions... carrying that popsicle of her own.

Hotaru / Sailor Saturn’s References:

Hotaru tended to wear the same thing, mostly all-black, but she did occasionally adventure into rich colours like this bottle green two-piece outfit and iconic raspberry beret.

The sunhat belonged to Chibi-Usa; it symbolises the beginning of their friendship, when Hotaru caught it after it blew away in episode 112.

Chibi-Usa gave Hotaru the rabbit backpack in episode 116, using it to pass a note inviting her on a picnic.

Hotaru collects lamps, and the two referenced here are seen in her bedroom, which she keeps dimly lit to manage her pain.

The window might seem random, but it was random in the series, too - it’s one of the curtained window which looks out from Hotaru’s bedroom, and when a Daimon experiment goes terribly wrong in episode 118 and transforms her house into a Bamboozled-like inter-dimensional maze, one window overlooks a vast ocean while the other overlooks a strange jungle.

Hotaru’s weapon as Sailor Saturn is the Silence Glaive. It’s said that she possesses enough power to destroy the world with a single drop of her scythe.

That’s it! You made it! How many references did YOU know? 🌙

[fallenrepublick]

Hey! What field would Thrawn, Thrass, Maul, Vader, Tarkin, Krennic and Obi-Wan choose to study in school between science, literature/humanity and economy/social ? And what would be their fav subject (can be in another field, they just have to like it) ?

Sorry that's a lot of characters...

Ooo here you are, back at it again with the stuff that makes me think!!

I think Thrawn would go down the literature route. Literature is a form of art, and while it might not be the same in the way it conveys information, the ideas that you can glean from the individual authors is much the way you can interpret artists. What is the author saying? Why? What are they implying about their own beliefs that aren’t stated directly, yet are represented by means of subtext? It’s a thorough process, one that requires a lot of analysis and a broad understanding of how people interact and process the information in their lives. What’s more, it’s a way to predict the paths that societies and people will follow in the future, what patterns occur throughout history, what cycles had been unavoidable. Where are they headed now? Will they change, if they even have the ability to? It’s logical, as well as creative, fundamentally.

His favourite subject is not a class to create art, but rather Art History. In a way, both subjects can work in conjunction with each other, using skills from one and applying it to scenarios in the other.

Thrass would go the sociology route, and I think that’s pretty obvious why. He’s a debater and communicator at heart, and he’s going to take the path that uses these skills well and sets him up for a leadership he’s always craved. He studies people, their reactions, the ways their mind works. He wants to know the details and intricacies that make up the opposing argument, as well as the structures in place that may have developed it in the first place. It’s a way for him to connect to the people he works for, so that he may understand their ways of thinking, even if he himself does not think that way.

His favourite subject is Music Theory, where he can read the steps and paths that combine into a piece of music, where he can identify how even the slightest change in a work can change the result entirely. It compares well to more high-stakes scenarios, where one wrong move may prove detrimental to a career or even a life. As with Thrawn’s subject, this can be applied to his main area of study as well.

Maul is a bit of a tricky one in this area, because on the one hand, he has a fair amount of control over a lot of people, which could point to humanities in connection to law. But I really think he’d fall into the economic/social category, and that’s because it’s more practise than theory. He would thrive well in this area, because it relies on him having an understanding of the systems in place that he has jurisdiction over or plans to have jurisdiction over. He has to be well-equipped to take on what’s already in place and reform, embrace, or deconstruct it depending on the scenario. The broad, theoretical aspect of humanities lacks action, and more focuses on the why and if it works, rather than how.

His favourite subject is some form of physical activity, likely fencing or some sort of martial art.

Vader chooses to study within the sociology umbrella for a similar reason to Maul. He requires things to be actively occurring, and as he studies the ways certain social constructs effect different civilisations, it aids in the process of absorbing them into the Empire. This is especially useful in conjunction with his Jedi experience, as he learned the sorts of problems that plagued the government as he encountered them, and is able to learn from those mistakes given his new status.

His favourite subject is going back home

Tarkin enters sociology, there’s absolutely no question. He’s a politician through and through. Demographics, statistics, and societal control is what he lives and breathes, and this is no different. It comes completely naturally to him, as it relies a computer-like mind to calculate probability and possible change (ISTJ, anyone?) in accordance with human nature. It’s not that he can read people, it’s that he can read patterns, and the common mindset of people on the same side.

His favourite subject is Classical Literature. It’s simply a hobby.

Krennic is our only science kid! The man’s an engineer, let’s face it. He’s not made for this “human interaction” stuff, and he definitely lacks the charm to thrive in political settings. No, his focus lies in the definitive answers that science and technology can give, where he isn’t left guessing what’s going to happen to him the next day if his coworkers change their minds on the fly. With science, he can use the formulas, seek the answers, and walk away satisfied. He has a mind made for problem-solving, and that lends itself best to this area.

His favourite subject is Culinary Arts. Again, it’s just a hobby.

And finally, Obi-Wan would be in the humanities department. A Jedi that leans more on the side of the philosopher and historian, he prefers to ask the questions about why people are the way they are, what histories and experiences lead people to make the choices they do, for there is always a reason, whether they know it or not. He seeks out connections to the people themselves, not just as a whole, and finds their variations as well as their similarities. He connects to people, because they find themselves trusting him when he knows so much about who they are already. He looks back on mistakes and forward to the future, and works to break cycles that only end in destruction.

His favourite subject lies in Dance, an art that mirrors the techniques found in combat, yet used in a much more elegant and civilized way. Many areas of balance that dance relies on to succeed are highlighted in combat, and he sees the space between the two as the ideal place to be when danger arises.

[anxiouslyfred]

side most likely vs less likely to get

- a tattoo

- multiple piercings

- a ballgown

- a sword

- an unusual/illegal pet

- a broken collarbone

- so lost they end up in a different country

- run over by a car

- into trouble with mall security

- arrested for murder

- into a year-long coma

- engaged within 24 hours of meeting

- married to a stranger

- adopted by a group of misfits

- a gold medal at the olympics

- banned from a country

- blaclisted by the cia

- escorted from an event

?

wow that's a lot of things, spontaneous quiz time YAY! Most are under the cut, cause this got long.

a tattoo: Remus feels like the easy answer for most likely, but I can find reasons for pretty much all the sides to get tattoos, like Logan getting facts or formulas tattooed to his arms so he can use them when trying to reason or correct someone or something.

Virgil would be least likely I think, just because I can imagine either the tattoo artist or Logan going over care and how to spot infections before hand and making Virgil to anxious to go through with it.

multiple piercings: If Remus doesn't have multiple piercings then there's something wrong with the world. Also Virgil's aesthetic just seems perfect for multiple piercings to me, so he'd have them too.

Least likely is Patton, or at least he isn't likely to admit to having them if he got them. Gotta keep that friendly approachable appearance.

a ballgown: Roman. He literally already has one, also there's that song from some musical I can't remember "I feel Pretty", definitely something I can see Roman putting on a ballgown and singing to make himself feel better.

Least likely, I gotta say Remus. He'd get one, and then immediately be tearing it up, customising it until it definitely isn't a ball gown anymore, and the only reason he'd even do that was to annoy Roman with his "affront to fashion and common decency alike!"

a sword: Roman already has one, so he'd an easy answer. Also Logan, but I would literally be never looking at the series again if that happened. He reminds me of someone I knew obsessed with swords and that's very much not good, like at least 3 trains and a slow bus ride from okay. Logan would get a sword but he is very much not allowed one.

I can't actually see Janus with a sword though, so I'm saying he's least likely. He prefers things that people wouldn't automatically think of as weapons, like his cane or words. A sword just isn't subtle enough for him.

an unusual/illegal pet: Is there any question that Patton's the most likely to adopt any animal he thinks needs looking after, spiders excluded? if there's any way the animal looks cute, he wants to take it home.

Logan is the least likely to do this. He's constantly been stopping Thomas from even getting a dog, so I don't think he'd ever get a pet that shouldn't be a pet, or needs more care put into it.

a broken collarbone: tie between Patton and Remus. Patton would do anything if he thinks it's the right thing to do and get himself into dangerous situations because of it, Remus will deliberately walk into dangerous situations and take the injuries. All it would take to break his collarbone would be like saying the buzzlightyear falling with style thing would be impossible for a human to do and he'd be trying to replicate it, getting injured in the process.

Least likely is Virgil. That guy will triple check things to make sure they're safe and will do everything he can to avoid big injuries.

so lost they end up in a different country: Roman, although does that count when he was intent on finding an adventure wherever it took him?

Janus is least likely because he wouldn't be lost, he'd just be taking in the sights to boast about where he's been once home again.

run over by a car: I can't choose between Roman, Remus and Patton for most likely too. All three are distractable enough to do it accidentally and have enough extremes to do it deliberately if the circumstances are right.

Virgil is the least likely. He's the guy trying to stop his friends from walking into the roads and screaming at them if they manage it anyway. (in this I am Virgil. Pretty sure I have 2 or 3 friends I have threatened to find out if there's like road safety courses for pedestriants to force them into)

into trouble with mall security: Roman purely because I've been told off by security for sitting down to write when the nearby seats were all full, or sitting from a bridge over a walkway to people watch. The security guys where I live do not like people sitting in random places and Roman would definitely get told off by them, then take offence and get in worse trouble.

Least likely would be Logan, cause he's very much the type of person who is at the mall only for an errand and will entirely get it done then go home, no lingering at all.

arrested for murder: Remus would practically try to get arrested for murder any chance he gets, even when he was nowhere near the scene and police know that. He likes seeing the consequences.

Janus would be least likely. He knows better than to leave evidence of where he's been, I mean constantly wearing gloves to avoid fingerprints? even if he were to murder someone he'd make sure nothing points back to him (and probably implicate Remus while he's there).

into a year-long coma: ummm, too many reasons that can happen have now jumped into my head. Most likely I think would be Patton, Least likely probably Logan cause he'd know better the causes and how to treat or avoid them happening.

engaged within 24 hours of meeting: Roman is defo most likely. The boy loves the romance and heat of the moment. He just wants to be swept off his feet like a fairytale.

Virgil is least likely. He's gonna need to get to know you first, prove you aren't a murderer or trying to use him for something.

married to a stranger: Janus is most likely here. If he can see some advantage to the marriage, and knows how to navigate any possible negatives, he'd be all for the marriage, whether or not he even liked the person.

Least likely I think would be Virgil again. He needs to trust someone if he'd gonna marry them, and you just can't trust a stranger that easily.

adopted by a group of misfits: I know the fandom jokes about Patton managing this, but seriously, I think Virgil is most likely to get adopted by misfits. He'd pick a routine and eventually realise that a group of random people have become friends and he's not quite sure when that happened.

Logan seems like the least likely, since he'd probably try his best to befriend people in his academic area of interest. Then again, just looking at the sides, they are already this group of misfits without being adopted by more of them.

a gold medal at the olympics: Virgil or Logan are most likely to manage this, probably Logan most of all. The training and dedication it takes to get that far comes from these 2, the other sides need more change/ distractions.

Janus I think is least likely. sure, he'd love too, prestidgious award, lots of bragging rights, but also, lots of hard work that can't be skipped by flattering the right person. He'll go for other awards instead.

banned from a country: Remus or Janus. Tell them they aren't allowed to do something that's legal in the USA and these 2 seem likely to immediately start trying to do it without being discovered, especially if the law seems stupid.

Least likely is Virgil. He would just avoid anything that seems outside of the norm for the area he's in and try to blend in as much as possible.

blacklisted by the cia: Remus. Easy answer I know, but he wants to cause chaos, and look up everything they monitor. Never manages to get something like 'i'm a writer' or 'researching for this class' as an excuse for looking up andd sometimes trying to acquire explosives or whatever

Patton is least likely. If he wants to know information they'd monitor or do something dangerous he's asking Logan or someone to help him find it. Janus probably does that too.

escorted from an event: Well I know Roman would be the least likely for this to happen to. He's doing everything he can to make a good impression, smile at the right times and be the height of good manners and prince-like charm.

Honestly, I kinda think Virgil would be most likely to be escorted from an event, but not because of causing a disturbance. It just seems like an event that could happen at would be extremely stressful and he'd need to leave due to an anxiety attack.

[ezrasarm]

Ezra and Cee end up living together because Ezra is totally a cool uncle/willing to train her in prospecting (less dangerous jobs only now that he has a psuedo daughter ans one arm). But he also encourages her to complete her studies. Enter a private tutor who is going to help Cee complete the equivalant of Space!A levels/GED. Ezra can't help but be smitten and won't stop interrupting the lessons. Cee is irritated at Ezra's brainu flirting, tutor is mostly oblivious until she isn't. 😉

Electrostatic Attraction

Pairing: Ezra x Reader

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: 10 ply super soft fluff, chemistry both literally and figuratively, a lack of proofreading

A/N: Sorry it took me a bit to get this out! I had to dig back deep into the traumatic memories of studying for IB chemistry for this one. Also it’s been a while (and I sucked at it then) so don’t quote me on any of this stuff 😂.

“I didn’t know we were expecting company.” Ezra said, a charming grin gracing his lips as he appeared in the doorway with a hefty bag slung over his shoulder. He’d been away on a job for the past week. Nothing too complicated. Just enough to keep the two of them afloat while Cee was finishing up her studies.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until Thursday.” Cee said, glancing up from her textbook only slightly surprised to see him so soon.

“Finished up early.” He said, allowing the bag to slide off his arm onto the floor as he made his way inside. “Nice to see you too, Kid.” Ezra prompted her only to get an eye roll in response. “You gonna introduce me to your friend here or am I gonna have to make our acquaintance myself?” He asked with a charismatic chuckle as he nodded over at you. He’d swear he was being discreet but Cee didn’t miss the way his eyes dragged over you where you were sat in the seat next to her. She’d never seen Ezra’s interest peaked like this so the shift in behaviour caught her a little off guard.

“Right...” Cee squinted at him skeptically for a moment before shaking off the initial shock. “Ezra, this is (Y/n), my tutor. (Y/n), this is Ezra, my...” Cee scrunched up her face a little to consider her words for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know, he’s just Ezra.” She finally decided.

“Pleasure to meet you.” You said with a polite smile as you got up, extending your hand to shake before realizing his wasn’t there and quickly switching hands. This earned you a hearty laugh and a wide smile as he accepted the gesture.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He responded, shaking your hand for a tad longer than customary only for Cee to cough and give him a chiding glare from over your shoulder which told him it was time to let go. “Right, don’t let me distract you two.” He nodded curtly with a smile, his hand raised in mock surrender before disappearing into the galley.

“Sorry about him. He’s not usually like that.” Cee said as the two of you got settled again.

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that but you shrugged the comment off with a “He seems nice.” Before nodding back at the past paper the two of you had been going through. “Where were we again?” You asked, still slightly flustered by the interaction. You could feel a flush had risen to your cheeks and you weren’t entirely sure why.

“sp3d hybridization.” She reminded you. There she was. Always on the ball. Why did she need you here again? You thought before snapping back into it.

“Right. So you know what I’m gonna ask you.” You said and she peered back at you expectantly. “Bond angles?” The blank expression on her face persisted and despite knowing she knew what you were talking about you folded. It was your job to solidify this information in her head after all. “Okay, so say we’ve got a substance like phosphorus pentachloride. So that’s a single phosphorus atom and five chlorines bonded with polar covalent bonds. And they’re polar because...” You prompt her.

“Chlorine has greater electronegativity than phosphorus.” She finishes for you and you give her a subtle high-five and an approving nod as you go on.

“Right, and each of those chlorine atoms have equal partial negative charges which makes them want to get as far away from each other as possible while still clinging to that phosphorus.” You explain and she nods as though that’s obvious. “So how are those five chlorines going to configure themselves around that phosphorus so that they are all equidistant from one another?” You ask and she squints at you for a moment as she tries to work it out. “Sketch it out.” You remind her, tapping the pad of paper in front of her already filled with scribbles of chemical formulae, Lewis structures and ball and stick models, knowing she works better when she can visualize what she’s talking about. Unbeknownst to either of you Ezra had since appeared in the doorway a fond smile toying at his features as he watched the two of you giggle over the way you tripped up saying “trigonal bipyramidal symmetry” and you challenging her to try saying it five times fast if she was so keen to make you laughing stock for it.

“Okay, you win.” Cee laughed, hands raised in surrender when she blundered her first attempt. Cee liked you, Ezra noted. He noticed the way that she actually acted a bit like a kid around you. She treated you like a friend, not a teacher and he wondered how you did it. He could see you had invested a genuine care and concern in your work which was a rarity nowadays, one which gently tugged at his heartstrings as he took the scene in.

“Alright, review time!” You declare as you notice the time. You always liked to round back to some basics when you finished up your sessions so that she left things on a high note and you really cemented those foundational concepts in place. “So hydrogen bonds.” You cue her and she sighs.

“Haven’t we gone over this five times today?” She asked.

“Then you should be five times better at explaining them than you were when we started.” You say and she gives you a challenging stare for a moment before she nods in defeat and rattles off an unsurprisingly accurate definition of the intermolecular force.

“And London dispersion forces?” You ask and she astounds you once again.

“Last but not least, dipole-dipole interactions- and if you don’t get this I’ve completely failed you as a tutor.” You say.

“The electrostatic attraction between the positive and negative ends of molecules with permanent dipole moments.” Ezra speaks up from the doorframe and you jump slightly at the sound of the baritone in the room before a smile sets on your face. He couldn’t seem to rip his gaze off of that upwards quirk to your lips. Even after such little interaction there was something about you that drew him to you like a magnet. You were smart and quick witted. He could tell that already from watching you bicker with Cee, not unlike he usually did himself. Not to mention you were devilishly good looking, especially in that sage green wrap dress you were wearing that hugged you in all the right places and showed off just the right amount of skin. Few people wore dresses anymore, at least not in his circles, and the custom was striking to him. It made him nostalgic and reminded him of home.

“That’s... correct.” You say after turning to face him fully. You hadn’t had the time to notice how good looking he was when you were first introduced but now that he’d changed from the bulky suit he was wearing when he first came in and he’d cleaned himself up a little, you could actually take in his ruggedly handsome features. Soft warm eyes, a patch of platinum blonde just at the cowlick where his hair parted, a prominent nose, a faint scar on his cheek and a smattering of facial hair across his jawline and upper lip. Maybe it was the laugh lines around his eyes or the seemingly constant perk to the corner of his mouth but something about his demeanour commanded you to be completely enraptured by him.

“Please, make no mind of me, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” And it’s only now that you realized you must have been staring at the poor man. Your face burns bright red with embarrassment as you try to collect your thoughts again.

“No, not at all! I uh- we were just wrapping up.” You stammer out as you begin collecting your things into a neat pile in front of you.

“Cee,” Ezra says and her head flicks up immediately from where it had been buried in her palms the moment he started speaking. “I was about to order takeout, have you got any preferences- say, (y/n) was it?” He asked, even though he knew quite well what your name was. It hadn’t stopped playing on his phonological loop since the moment he’d heard it. God, his voice- the way he said your name almost made you swoon as you went to nod. “You should join us.” He says simply and Cee’s eyes widen like a deer in headlights before she just about snaps her neck turning to look at you.

“Oh, I shouldn’t-“ You begin but he’s waving the the excuse out of your head before you can even come up with it.

“That is if a bewitching woman such as yourself doesn’t have any prior arrangements.” He suggests and Cee is just about ready to hurl her textbook at him if that will get him to shut up any faster. Have you mentioned that you’re blushing yet?

“No, no plans. I-“ You start to say before glancing over at Cee who has a look of controlled horror adorned on her face. ‘She’ll forgive me’ you think to yourself before speaking. “I’d love to.” You say. Ezras pre-existing smirk widens into a broad grin.

“Ezra, come help me find the menus!” Cee declares almost immediately, before leaping up and dragging him by the wrist into the kitchen leaving you slightly dumbfounded in your place.

“You can’t just invite her over for dinner, she has a life of her own-“ She manages to simultaneously whisper and shout once their out of earshot. “Why is your hair wet? Did you shower?” Cee asked bringing her hand up to jostle his mop of damp hair. “For her?!” She just about hissed, pointing back out in the direction of the living/dining area where you were sat.

“What? I just got in from a dig! You expect me to sit around in that filth all day?” He questioned, attempting to deflect her accusation.

“Normally you just pass out on the couch the minute you get in- Ugh, Ezra! My tutor? Really?!” She scolds him and his face softens before he speaks again.

“Just humour me. It’s been...” He pauses a moment as he considers the last time he’s felt this way about someone. “Too long.” He finally decides and Cee scrunches up her face.

“Ew!” She exclaims remembering the way his eyes had traced down your body when you first introduced yourself.

“Not like that!” He reprimanded her, giving her a light swat on the shoulder. “Although, that too.” He shrugs after second thought. This time Cee is the one to whack his arm with the rolled up stack of takeaway menus, but far harder than he had her. “Ow! You pack quite the punch there little bird!” He winces through a soft chuckle before his face falls again and they enter an undeclared staring match, Ezra straightening up and squinting at her slightly when he realizes he’s being challenged.

“Fine! But you have to quit it with the ‘bewitching woman’s and the poorly veiled chemistry innuendo.” She points a finger at him.

“Chemistry innuendo? I gave a definition!” He exclaimed defensively.

“Really Ezra? Electrostatic attraction?” She drawled out like he had. “You don’t think we already know perfectly well where you want to put your lone pair of electrons?” She retorted, eyebrows raised accusingly.

“I don’t sound like that- What does that even mean?!” He squeaks out before he shakes the thought away and refocuses. “Cee,” he sighs. “I do not supplicate much of you often...” he drags out, eyes pleading down at her, who has her arms crossed on her chest.

“Don’t fuck this up.” She says after far too long and Ezra doesn’t even care to correct her language. “I have to see that woman on a daily basis and I will not have you coming in and screwing up my chances of passing chemistry.” She says, waving the menus threateningly at him once again.

“You have my word.” He nods diligently, raising his hand to lay against his chest before Cee storms back out of the kitchen with almost the same intensity as when she entered and Ezra takes a moment to collect himself before following.

It didn’t take too long for the three of you to decide on your order. There wasn’t all that much variety to choose from on the station, no matter how large it boasted itself to be. Your order was ready in a manner of minutes and Cee practically sprinted to the door claiming she would pick it up to escape what she swore was the most embarrassing interaction of her life, watching the back and forth between you and Ezra like the worlds most awkward ping pong match. She was surprised you hadn’t run screaming from the room at Ezra’s completely unsubtle and unpracticed flirting and his off the cuff, frivolous compliments to you but the truth was, you found them extremely endearing. His entire face lit up with pride when you commented on the book collection you’d noticed last time you were here. When you pointed out a favourite or yours that you’d noticed the spine of which was almost completely worn down on his eyes just about bugged out of his head as he pulled it off the shelf to show you that almost every single page had been filled with scribbles and annotations he’d added in the many times he’d reread it. By the time Cee got back, the two of you had managed to inch closer together from the opposite ends of the couch you’d occupied earlier. You were both keeled over in fits of hysterical laughter at some story you were telling about a misunderstanding that occurred with a pupil and their father when you first started private tutoring sessions. You hadn’t even realized your hand had come to grasp his knee as you tried to steady yourself. Just looking at the two of you Cee could have sworn you’d known each other forever. Something about the scene in front of her seemed so natural as she tried to remember why she was so horrified by the idea of you getting along so well in the first place. When you could finally breathe well enough to acknowledge her she set the bag of takeout on the table in front of you before jerking her thumb over her shoulder.

“I uh-“ she gaped for a moment. “I just ran into a friend outside the uh... place. I was gonna go hang out with her for a bit- but you two should eat without me while it’s still hot.” She suggests before either of you can even protest.

“Sure thing.” Ezra nods, still beaming from his most recent laughing fit, he almost misses the wink Cee shoots him before bouncing out the door. ‘That little minx’ he thinks to himself as she disappears from sight leaving just the two of you and the makings of what you would later refer to as your first date.

Masterlist

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added)

@ezraslittleblondestreak @agirllovespasta @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @wickedfrsgrl @hillarymurray4 @din-damn-djarin

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 10: Mari plots plotting

So long time no post. I live. Ish. Also finally figured out readmore on mobile, so yay. Will take forever to edit posts now though. Explanation at the bottom First part here previous part here. Ao3 here

Marinette wanted to go on record that Mandeliev did not, in fact, give her an extra day or so to study for the test. Why? Instead, she was told she may do a paper on the application of physics in gymnastics and principles of evasion in urban areas and how to combine the two to maximize one’s ability to run away from akumas and other dangers.

Or as Nino put it: “I am tormenting you into running better, the eight page essay.”

Alya dubbed it the “Run Better Paper.”

Aurore said it should include more formulas when Marinette showed her the draft. (as Adrien would complain about lack of theories and how she should have used this advanced formula she’d never heard of instead and then Marinette would have to forcibly stop him from taking over her paper. Again.)

Kim had taken to keeping her in his hoodie, escorting her to the bakery and didn’t leave her alone until Adrien said it was his “Marinette Anxiety Watch” shift.

Which she would like to go on record, is just plain mean to say. She has Liar 100% under control when world ending things and metaphorical bomb drops aren’t happening to her constantly.

—-

Bruce tried to contact Diana and Arthur again. Hal was off world, and therefore useless.

Why?

As his missing son hadn’t contacted them yet. Was still in the Miraculous team’s custody. And he saw the footage of Robin—Damian—being hunted by a lving shadow, an element casting swordswoman, and a strategist that seemed to know exactly what to do to keep Robin cornered in battle. The living shadows—Chat Noir—tried to kill his son with Cataclysm.

That was when they were in public, and had Hal watching over them.

He didn’t want to think about what the kids might do unsupervised to someone that tried to kill Ladybug, openly stalked her civilian self, and apparently tried stalk her again, in broad daylight. And possibly may have revealed her secret identity…

From the comments, it seemed that the Parisians hadn’t connected his sons aliases to the pair, writing it off as “Copy-cat Vigilantes” thankfully. And none of them were revealing more than “so the Fashion Disaster tried to go after Chat and Ryuko’s civvie… Not A Smart CopyBird” was the most he was able to get.

His children, on the other hand…

——

“I Fucking KNEW IT!” Tim yelled. “I knew it was her!”

“But,” Jason smirked. “You didn’t tell us.”

“Soup girl, baby bat!” Cass said gleefully.

“Wait, we both talked to her—and you didn’t say you thought it was her either Cass!”

“So what I’m hearing, if my ears don’t deceive me,” Jason continued. “Is that you all lost too.”

“What—“

“Wait a minute!”

“No way—”

Cass shrugged. She was the least invested in winning. She got to meet soup girl, who is very nice and her parents are safe for Baby Bat.

“We don’t have proof,” Dick pointed out. “Didn’t you say something about her being a mouse?”

“I—”

“Well—”

“Yes.” Cass cut through Tim and Stephanie’s waffling. “She is.”

Dick rubbed his forehead. “How many secrets can one kid have?”

“Five?” Jason said without much thought. “Limit is definitely five.”

—-

“Let me get this straight,” Miss Sting began, watching Ladybug very, very carefully. Rena and Carapace were busy that night and couldn’t act as the team’s Common Sense Filter in person. and texts only went so far.

So the job fell to Aurore. To talk (probably Marinette) Ladybug out of a Very, Stupendously, Inconceivably Bad Idea.

“You want to trust Robin—the kid who tried to kill you—to contact his mother—an assassin—to talk strategy about how to take down Hawkmoth’s civilian life’s business, not kill him, and trust that they won’t kill you?”

“…I’m bringing Chat with me.”

“Ladybug.”

“What, do you want me to use a Lucky Charm to prove this is our best bet?”

“You know what?” Miss Sting threw her hands up. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.” Ladybug threw her yoyo skyward. “Lucky Charm!”

A red, spotted ball with an 8 on it came down.

“… you have got to be kidding me.”

Ladybug shrugged. “Uh, Magic Eightball, is it okay to trust Robin with this?”

One shake later and the floating die window read “Without a Doubt.”

“Give me that.” Miss Sting scowled, shaking as she asked. “Should she bring someone besides Chat and Robin—like someone from our team or Wonder Woman or Aquaman?”

The ball answered “Outlook not so good.”

Miss Sting glared at the magic eight ball. “I can’t believe this!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Lucky Charms are Lucky Charms—and I gotta go.”

Miss Sting checked her beeping spinning top. Someone was just akumatized.

“Re-charge first!” Miss Sting yelled before swinging ahead.

—-

“Oh, hey, when’s Demon Spawn going to contact us?” Jason asked as other bats calmed down.

“He’s not answering his communicator.” Bruce growled. “Hal took it earlier.”

The bats paused at that.

“Well then. Trackers?”

“Disabled—what? We didn’t need anyone crashing the apology and he ran off before I could stop him,” Dick defended. He is not Damian’s keeper. Just his Batman (as yes Bruce, he is Damian’s Batman and Damian is his Robin. Current masks not-withstanding).

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Stephanie asked as the room grew uneasy.

No one answered that.

“How’s this,” Tim began. “Me, Steph and Cass agreed on who Hawkmoth probably is, each of us has a different set of evidence for it—and I’m counting breaking into his evil Liar and the cameras catching him mid-act a few minutes ago as absolute proof.”

“I’m sorry, you did what!” Stephanie leaned over Tim’s shoulder to see. “Oh shit. Isn’t that guy—”

“One of her friends? According to their private Instagram accounts, more like partner in crime and possible Chat Noir. I mean, he’s the one that calls her his “everyday Ladybug” and voices Chat Noir in everything." Tim answered idly. “My money’s on him not knowing at all.”

Bruce twitched. Then began to add ‘stalking social media feeds’ to his to-do list tonight.

“So,” Tim stepped forward. “I suggest we send this to the Wonder Woman and ask for Robin’s comm to be returned, and failing that, I bugged the video so anything they play it on, we get access to its IP and can find where they are.”

“Have Oracle go over the bug, just in case,” Bruce told them. “In the mean time, the rest of you suit up for the night. Gotham needs its vigilantes.”

—-

Marinette wanted to go on the record that her plan (to keep the bats away) was going well. Deciding what to do with Mu—R—Damian. Damian. Damian and his offer, was a challenge.

For obvious reasons, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and Aquaman were against her asking a bunch of assassins for their help. Chat has more than a few reservations. Carapace, Rena and Miss Sting gave her looks for that plan.

But.

But it would work. She needs more information on how to make the plan burning in the back of her mind work. It’s a lot of chaos (and she may thrive in chaotic battles but this wasn’t her usual battlefield, and her team didn’t know who they were going up against for once). And Marinette? She needs to know its not just her doing this when its so out of her depths.

So despite literally everyone and their disagreements she had Chat on her right side with Damian on her left, meeting up with his Crazy, Semi-Immortal mother. And possibly his Immortal, former Black Cat candidate, grandfather.

Why?

As Marinette isn’t trusting the likely cult that makes up the Gotham Ghost Gang (Batfam if you like them) when she can get real advice and vague directions to immortal and allied (loyal and terrifying) assassins.

And yes, she wasn’t sure if Liar was wrong or right when they said it was a bad idea too.

But fuckit she’s already got Kaalki at her shoulder, looking a bit bored at the deserted rooftop that Kaalki chose for their meeting.

“داميان*,” the woman smiled at her son. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mother,” Robin greeted. “This is Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug wished to speak to you about potential strategies to take down an enemy outside of battle without violence,” Damian stressed.

“I am well-aware of the Kwami and their Chosen, اِبْن.**” The woman spoke calmly. “The League of Assassins formed to act as the Black Cat to restore the world to balance and un-burden the Order with its maintenance.” The woman offer Ladybug her hand. “I am Talia al Ghul, and I am at your service, with or without violence Ladybug.”

Marinette took her hand. “Thank you Talia. Our target being directly exposed like I planned would have…” Ladybug trailed off, thinking over the ramifications not only to Adrien, but to the whole of Gabriel’s brand, workers and all that worked with them. “Some intense ramifications I’d rather avoid.”

Talia nodded her head, waiting for more information.

“I believe its possible to topple them without affecting their employees by uncoupling them from their business, but doing so is, well, stocks and economics isn’t my strongest point.” Ladybug admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I would suggest,” Talia began, “to create a bit of chaos in the stock market. Perhaps a rumor here and there, let investors pull out and grab the abandoned stocks quickly. Consolidate them under one owner and become the company’s owner.”

Marinette twitched a bit at that. “That… sounds complicated.”

“Oh, but it isn’t. My son knows just how to that, or did you forget our lessons?” Talia asked coolly.

Damian twitched at Marinette’s side. “I did not.”

“You know,” Chat chimed in. “I do know a few things about those things. If its general chaos, well…” Chat’s face twisted in a way Marinette forgot he could do after that Chat Blanc episode.

“… I will take that into consideration.”

“Anything else?” Talia asked, watching Ladybug and her son. Specifically, how her son seemed glued to the girl’s side. “I am certain my son is able to take out your target, if all else fails.”

Damian scowled at Marinette’s side.

“However, I do believe that whatever is happening, whatever has you active, might require a more… experience hand.”

Damian brushed against her side. Code for ‘Possible Danger.’

“Thank you for the offer,” Chat moved in front of Marinette. “But mi’lady and the Guardians have that much handled.”

Talia’s eyes shifted from Chat to Ladybug, staying on her. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I merely needed more information on how to execute this type of plan, that’s all!” Ladybug almost, almost slipped into Marinette while Liar, while silenced for the moment, prodded the back of her mind. “I want to minimize collateral damage as much as I can, to everyone. The kwami already said they get to chose the target’s punishment.”

“Ah, I see.” Talia relaxed then. “You are following the kwami’s wishes. I will respect their wishes as well, Chosen.”

Marinette categorized this interaction as one of the “not too horrible, but will avoid a repeat” once they left.

—

*Damian in arabic

**son

so we have Talia now as a Player, sort of. she plays by her word pretty well so hopefully its a cameo more than anything else.

any ideas on how JL will handle the video, and if Miraculous Team should see it and freak out or only LB and keep on the dl while JL assissts in her Chaos Plot?

End of update. Will have to repost from ao3 on my phone now as desktop tumblr is being exceptionally rude. Tags always open, just takes me a bit to do—sorry to vixen for vanishing from tags

TAGS:  @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang @dreamykitty25 @emu-lumberjack @vixen-uchiha

[ganymedesclock]

Ghirahim and gendered expectations of sensuality

So, as people who’ve seen my previous Zelda posts might gather, I have a mixed relationship with Skyward Sword. On the one hand, I think many of its characters have tremendous potential. On the other, I feel like the game largely did not live up to that potential, and in some areas, it feels rather deliberate. But suffice to say, elements of Skyward Sword have meant that certain characters- Batreaux, Groose, Fi, and Ghirahim are not far from my mind.

A brief primer, for those who might be unfamiliar: Ghirahim is the main antagonist of Skyward Sword, and a bit of an aberration in the common Zelda formula, which tends to introduce a ‘decoy’ or “lieutenant” antagonist who dominates for most of the game and then bows out towards the end as the prelude to the true final boss- usually Ganondorf, in Skyward Sword’s case, it’s the demon god and a figure we are clearly supposed to scan as Ganondorf’s divine progenitor, Demise.

Ghirahim is quite openly a harbinger of, and servant to, Demise- where he breaks script is by being extremely proactive. We run into Ghirahim in most dungeons in the game, where he is not waiting idly for us, but doing actions that veteran Zelda players might recognize as comparable to Link’s: he breaks into dungeons either chasing Zelda, or chasing information that will allow him to proceed. We also have not one but three different fights with him, personally, and several other times he concedes that he doesn’t have time to play with Link and instead sics a boss monster on him.

The other thing about Ghirahim is, I will outright say it: He is written as a caricature of a predatory queer man.

He’s shown to be literally bloodthirsty, and presented by the narrative ostensibly as someone who has a sinister, perverse interest in both Link and Zelda, a contrast to their saintly, chaste union (which is supposed to read as a union; pursue a romantic sideplot with Peatrice, another girl in the game, and Fi will pretty much openly admonish you for cheating on Zelda, saying that Zelda wouldn’t be happy to know Link’s seeing someone and that Link should know that)

This is, really, a bit jarring, when Ghirahim’s actual dialogue suggests that he has very little interest in Link and views him much like a butler tending the master’s house while the latter is away might view a feral golden retriever that’s running loose in the place and getting mud on everything. His emotional range runs from warmly patronizing to exasperated to a truly dangerous degree (since, in this metaphor, the butler has also been tending the master’s house in near-total isolation for something like several centuries not having real conversations with the other servants and nobody’s at their psychological best in those situations even if they weren’t implicitly born and raised to murder).

Basically: that Ghirahim has no real interest in Link- not his body or appearance or anything. In his own dialogue, he seems confused by the idea that he’s at all interested, is apologetic that he’s wasting his time or dawdling and in his final scene, offers a genuinely flummoxed “you... who are you?” He offers colorful, violent threats, but when Link obstinately faces him again, he’s shown to be almost embarrassed and disgusted by them, and tries something else that almost no Zelda antagonist does: on multiple occasions, he tells Link to just walk away from the situation with what appears to be every intent of letting him go.

Ghirahim does not want Link for himself. He seems to, begrudgingly, against his own intentions, value Link as someone to fight against, but this connection does not actualize within the story- they are not really rivals. He isn’t even that deeply fond of the idea of Link’s blood, though he’s a proponent of blood as a vague concept.

Now, I like Ghirahim. I don’t think that even the read of Ghirahim as a queer man is a terrible one. But it definitely is interesting the lens in which Ghirahim’s implicit sensuality is cast. Basically, he is depicted as creeping on Link, without any real sense that he wants Link. Because it isn’t about what he wants- it’s about that implicitly he has a sexuality, and the idea of a man who might be attracted to other men is threatening, evil, and scary. Ghirahim wasn’t made queer-coded for representation’s sake. He was queer-coded to suggest he was depraved and motivated by a sinister lust. And the cruelty of this depiction is I think made immediately clear by- Ghirahim’s actual interests, passion, or preferences do not factor in here. That Scene Where Ghirahim Does The Tongue Thing is about how it is expected to make the player feel, and how implicitly Link feels.

What is Ghirahim’s type? Does he consider Demise beautiful? He makes it pretty clear he considers Link a brat. These are questions that aren’t asked, because it’s wrong that Ghirahim seems to have any sexuality at all- and, since Link is our lens and our guidepost for how we’re supposed to feel about characters, if Ghirahim behaves in a sensual manner it happens to Link, and to Zelda, invasively. Even though it is shown he feels no desire for any of these people, so that sensuality basically comes across like the game is firmly expecting us to find the idea of even an e-rated sensual male antagonist repulsive.

This led me down a very odd sort of rabbit trail.

Because Ghirahim- a bit indirectly- is inspired off a figure skater.

Specifically, Fi’s design was stated to evoke a figure skater, and we even see her ‘skating’ in several of the cutscenes. Ghirahim’s design matches Fi’s quite strongly; they were designed to be two of a kind.

I am not, myself, a figure skating buff, but a while ago, I happened across youtube videos of a skater named Johnny Weir. 

Quickly, you can see the sword spirits’ inspirations; the close-fitting leotards, the lithe, acrobatic capabilities.

But here’s the thing about Johnny Weir: this is a guy putting on a sensual performance that is not a gross-out, a joke, or a threat. It’s basically impossible to find nothing suggestive in his choice of backup movement or the movements he makes running his hands along his body- his costume even asserts these more with the mirrored details on his gloves. This is a dude, acting in a way you could say is objectively sensual even if it may or may not stir every viewer given the individual nature of preference.

But there’s a world of difference to Weir’s performance. Not just that this is a voluntary choice made by a real person, while Ghirahim’s choices, even if they have in-game logic, are largely about Link and about the player- but Johnny Weir is having fun. He has a charming energy to him and is performing to a song he loves.

Watching Johnny Weir, it occurred to me, that regardless of Weir’s own orientation- that I do not know and will not speculate on- there’s a preconception around “being sexy”. Women are seen as supposed to be sexy (but, in many circles, not too sexy. Can’t insinuate they know what they’re doing, or have opinions and tastes...), or, more, “sexy is seen as a job that women do for men specifically.”

So, to homophobic audiences... a man deliberately enacting a sensual performance- a sense of what sensual looks like from a dude- is seen as weird, wild, and out there. If you’re not shocked by the implications that Ghirahim may be attracted to men, may be into Link, may be into the idea of torturing Link- then a certain amount of his writing kind of falls apart. 

And comparing the way Ghirahim is animated and shot to Johnny Weir’s performance, it’s kind of... weak? Like, at one point in Weir’s routine, he lifts one leg and slides his fingertips down it in a smooth stroke from knee to thigh. It’s a steamy looking move, and this coming from someone who is so prodigiously ace I thought sexual attraction was made up for the first seventeen years of my life.

Ghirahim does not do that. He’s got thigh cutouts in his very close-fitting outfit, and has lines in his second fight about his body and how beautiful it is, but he does not make these movements that deliberately catch and draw the eye along the planes of him.

To me, I feel like besides this being a general affront against real queer people- the Zelda games have a concerning habit of depicting “eccentric, effeminate” men as either neutral characters or open villains and virtually always with this air of being the brunt of a joke (it’s very hard to imagine ALBW’s Yuga was designed by someone who earnestly loved this character)- it is also a bit rude to the character of Ghirahim himself.

Because Ghirahim, at the end of the day, is someone who ends the story heartbroken literally and figuratively. The entire game, he is driven by loyalty to Demise. He does not care who he hurts or threatens- and this comes back to the seeming implication that he is somewhat bloodthirsty, but vastly plays up his appetite for torture. When he thinks his goal is out of reach, he continues slogging away at it anyway, but listlessly. Everything he does, is for Demise. He is devoted enough to, late in the game, throw himself on Link’s sword for the third boss fight purely to stall for time until Demise revives.

Demise does not speak to Ghirahim, or acknowledge him, or even seemingly notice or care that by the time he comes back, Ghirahim’s metal heart has been torn open by being repeatedly stabbed by Link. (third boss fight is not kind.) Instead, he rips Ghirahim’s sword form out of his chest.

Ghirahim is a danger to Link, Impa, and Zelda, because he attacks them, and his own subordinates, because he threatens them. But to his master, he’s just a disposable pawn. This is a character driven by passion such that many of his poses and scenes show him nearly breaking into an actor’s soliloquy as he explains something to Link- and this is one way he does seem to like having Link around: he craves an audience.

And his passion is, in two ways, depicted as completely futile. First, in the dubious amount of oo scary gay man, watch out Link, he’s doing something weird with his tongue- and second and far more seriously, that everything he works for leaves him with nothing because his life never mattered for a second in the eyes of the person he lives and dies for.

Ghirahim is made a sensual character, but in a manner that feels bad faith- that feels like it has not thought about male sensuality in any direction besides “that’s wrong and icky, so we’ll attach it to our villain, who we want to be wrong and icky, and absolutely not suggest there’s anything particularly sad about what happens to him. His fault for being wrong and icky.”

[kisilinramblings]

Do you think that Fu neglected Adrien/Chat Noir in comparison to Marinette/Ladybug? I think he cared about him just as much, just unintentionally focused more on Mari since he planned on making her the new guardian. He went out of his way and put himself at risk to teach Adrien in Syren, meaning he understood that he is Ladybug's equal and that it was unfair to keep him in the dark.

Here’s the thing. As viewers, we can’t know the exact answer to that question. We can presume base at what was presented to our attention or mentionned on-screen, but we start with a disavantage because the narrative follows mostly Marinette.

One reason for that is because her character has more freedom to be wherever she wants, at almost any hour. Storywise, she has more opportunities to take action, so she is more interesting to follow in an everyday life than Adrien who has a strict schedule, obligations to meet and he isn’t much authorized going outside the house without his father’s permission. So this lack of liberty impacts whenever we can see Adrien on-screen. It’s not uncommon to see him heard about an Akuma attack when he is in his room while Marinette is often nearby already when the akuma first manifests. So, unless there’s something important going on with Adrien’s character or about the Agreste household during an episode, we will follow Marinette almost by default.

Another thing is Miraculous cannot afford to do much exposition. The 21 minutes of each episode is packed with actions because there is so much going on. The writers keep it to a minimum what information or hint is important for the episode story and save the rest for later. For example, when Sapotis was broadcasted, we discover there are more Miraculous that we originally thought inside the Miracle Box. As viewers, we never get an exhaustive description of what power is contained in which Miraculous, but we learn Marinette already possessed that knowledge and it is summed up in a single phrase said before we get to see the Miracle Box fully open.

“Marinette, I taught you about all about the Miraculous and their powers”.

Marinette learning that information happened off-screen at some point before. That’s all we need to know why Marinette knows which Miraculous to pick. The viewer will get the information eventually when they see the Miraculous put in action. Same thing with the power-up potions. After Syren, both Marinette and Adrien know all about which color of their respective Magi-caron and Magi-camembert is associated with which power-up. The audience, in the other hand, will learn about each one in due time.

We often get a brief mention to something lore-related only to get the full information divided into parts. We know about the ultimate power Hawkmoth keep mentionning it during S1 but we only more information about what it consists about during the Origin episodes which were put as a season finale. Finally, we then hear about the consequences of the ultimate power from Fu at the end of Robustus when Marinette ask him to inform her about what would happen if both of the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous were used together. Fu summarizes the power but then adds more informations about the consequences and what they imply, thus increasing the stake at hand. Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t just protecting Paris, but the balance of the world. 

All that to say that as viewers, we don’t have the whole picture right away. There are things that happens off-screen and that will get more or less be subtly hinting to and there are things that have yet to be explicitely revealed to us.

So, with that said, what can we determine about Fu and Adrien’s relation? 

Season 2

We know Chat Noir was kept in the dark about the Guardian’s existence until Syren’s. We know it was a turn of event that lead Marinette to Fu after Volpina’s events. Plagg commented having seen the book somewhere before changing the subject. Tikki, on the other hand, recognized the book and prompted Marinette to recover it and bring it to the Guardian. And Tikki mentionned Kwamis weren’t supposed to lead their Holder to Fu, but she considered it important for the Grimoire to be handed back to the Guardian and that it was time for Marinette to meet him.

Also, based on the production order, Syren was a mid-season. So for half a season, Marinette had more knowledge than Adrien regarding the Miraculous and their lore. 

During Syren, Adrien and Fu shares only two brief scenes together. One in which Fu promises to explain everything to Adrien and hands him a power-up potion and the other scene where Fu comes undercover to Adrien’s house and officially introduced himself and inform him on what we assume is all the information Adrien’s need.

The fact Fu arrived for Adrien’s chinese lesson means he was prepared. It wasn’t improvised to go there at that specific moment. However, Adrien was rather surprised to see Fu instead of his actual chinese teacher, meaning they didn’t discuss things out that much beforehand. Either Plagg informed Fu without Adrien knowing or Fu did his research about Adrien’s life to know his schedule and when there would be an opportunity for him to meet him. 

This also could explain why Fu waited that long to talk to Adrien. Mind you, this is only a theory that occured to me as I am answering you. Fu had translated the grimoire but was still deciphering the power-up formulas until he figured everything out by the end of Syren. If Fu knew of Adrien’s highly supervised lifetime, he knew he couldn’t meet him up as often as with Marinette. So my theory is Fu as waited that long to make it count. To have one opportunity to reveal everything Adrien needed to be updated, then go back into hiding. The fact Fu presented himself as a substitute teacher seems to reaffirm it was exceptionnal for him to be even there in the first place. 

In any case, we don’t know if Fu meet up with Adrien occasionnally afterwards. Syren is the sole S2 episode we see them interact together. However, in Frozer, the fact Adrien knows exactly which Magi-Camembert to feed Plagg to help him fight an ice-theme Akuma hints us he has the necessary knowledge about the power-up potions to be efficient in helping out. And at the end of the Mayura episode, he completes Ladybug’s sentence when she is guessing what power has help Hawkmoth escaped.

LB: A feather! The second Miraculous that Master Fu lost-- CN: Was the Peacock!

So Fu also has told Adrien the same story he has told Marinette during the Collector. 

Season 3

During S3, again, Fu’s scenes are almost exclusively with Marinette. We can think of Backwarder and Feast as examples there.

In Reflekdoll, Adrien as Mister Bug erroneously refers the Amok as another Akuma before being corrected by Lady Noire who then explains the situation they are in so Mister Bug is better informed to better fight it. If we rewatch Mayura, Ladybug didn’t know what a Sentimonster even was then. It’s only after seeing the feather she understands it was the Peacock power in action. She probably asked more questions specific related to that Miraculous to Fu afterwards. And if Fu didn’t meet with Adrien, the information had yet to be pass on (and Reflekdoll was supposed to be an early S3 episode according to production order). 

As Ladybug, Marinette knows she has to study her foe and acquire the most knowledge she can in order to understand her Lucky Charm’s guidance, otherwise she would lose precious time. Ladybug has end user experience while Mister Bug knowledge of how the Lucky Charm work up until now was from a spectator perspective only. That’s why as Lady Noire, she has to coach him. Something might look easy until you actually had to try it out yourself. Not to mention the Lucky Charm IS particular compared to other Miraculous powers. Add to that the fact they were against two opponents who have combined their power rushed things up a bit. Nonetheless, since both were fighting a Sentimonster for the very first time, there were trial and errors in order to take it down. 

In Kwami Buster, like Marinette, Adrien knows he would have to give back his Miraculous if his secret identity was discovered. So if that was a new information to the viewers, both were still on the same page there about the stake. 

In Feast, Fu tried to protect both of Marinette and Adrien from the Sentimonster by taking away their respective Miraculous. And both Marinette and Adrien disguise themselves to keep their identity hidden and protected Master Fu. 

In Timetagger, Chat Noir’s question about the Rabbit Miraculous leaves me perplexed about the level of his Miraculous knowledge. He asked why they don’t rely on the Rabbit Miraculous more often since it appears to be a powerful one. Future!Alix then has to explain playing with time can have severe consequences. So either he lacks knowledge about the consequences regarding certain Miraculous power usage OR -- since he is more impulsive as a superhero and thus tends to rush into action -- it can simply have asked because he doesn’t think of the consequences that much. Not to mention Ladybug fixes anything anyway so there isn’t much of a problem to use any particular Miraculous from his point of view.

Anyway, despite Feast events, it is only in Party Crasher that we finally get an interaction between Fu and Chat Noir. Fu tries to stop CN from going against the supervillain alone now that Ladybug has been captured. However, CN is too upset to listen to him. Fu had the Miracle Box hidden nearby him. For this scene, it sounds plausible Fu was about to give the occasion for Chat Noir to select an ally to help him, but since CN didn’t listen to reason, Fu ended up distributing the Miraculous himself. 

In Miracle Queen, CN quickly tries to reason Ladybug to not use two Miraculous at the same time. Since he knows how dangerous it can be to do so, it means Fu has also told him that information previously. 

So, from all of this, despite lacking on-screen interactions with Fu, we can see Adrien is still pretty much up to date to what Fu could teach them regarding the Miraculous, their rules and powers, though he might have missed some details here and there. 

Verdict

“I choose you both for a reason. Stay united!” 

Ever since Origin, Fu never regretted his choice. He is certain the Ladybug and Black Cat Holders he has chosen are the right ones. That they complement one another. Together, they can support one another and succeed. 

So, even if Fu wanted Ladybug to be the next Guardian of the Miracle Box, he didn’t think any less of Chat Noir as her partner. 

However, due to the disctinctive circumstances, Marinette was however personally closer to Fu than Adrien was. And this is reflected in this Miracle Queen scene toward the end. 

When they go to Fu, LB is on her knees, right next to Fu. Pleading him to wake up. Touching him even. Chat Noir contrasts this. He is standing a bit away from Fu. Silent. There is a subtle animation of his fists tightening as Fu is not waking up though. So he is not insensitive to what is happening before him, but he is more of a spectator. He cannot do anything so he stands there. It’s only when he think of a possible hope that he sits next the LB. 

A bit later, after realizing their Master’s amnesia is permanent, we can compare their reaction. 

Notice that CN is placed behind LB, not next to her. Sure he is down, but LB’s expression is sadder. She will be far longer and deeper affected by this loss than her partner. Because LB was closer to Fu than he was and they supported this visually.   

“Master, do you recognize me?”

If Chat Noir and Ladybug were both as emotionally attached to Fu, they would be framed equally with Fu at the center of the frame probably. And Ladybug would have said “us”. Here, it is specific to her. She has the attachment to Fu as an individual. She is closer to him visually. She is the one putting a hand on her chest.

Chat Noir is there and shares a similar pose than her. His head is aligned with her to draw an invisible line to Fu. Meaning he too wants Fu to be ok, but he is a bit cut by the edges of the frame. So to me, CN feels more as support to LB here than anything else. 

And color wise, we easily more associated Fu and LB together due to the dominance of the red it their respective outfit.

So yeah. LB’s bond with Fu was deeper. That doesn’t mean Fu disrespected or neglected Chat Noir on purpose. Like I’ve said, Adrien’s civilian life shut him down opportunities like spending more time with Fu, just like it costs him opportunities to hang with his friends. Fu knew Adrien’s life was controlled. He saw that boy who wanted to go to school being shut down and submitted to go back home. And that’s probably why Fu waited so long. He needed to be prepared and effective to preserve his identity as the Guardian. After all, we know Gabriel Agreste dislikes outsiders. If Fu had to go often to the mansion to meet Adrien on several instances, my guess is he would have been investigated. But since his visit at the end of Syren seems exceptionnal and impromptu, Fu’s real identity was safe. And he made it count. 

Anyway, Chat Noir’s relationship to Fu doesn’t make him less of Ladybug’s partner. Now that LB is the official Guardian, their dynamic will probably evolve. But Fu believed LB and CN will stay united and have each other’s back, no matter the trials they have to overcome. 

[outerdimensional]

@royalreef​ said: She hardly moves. That's the first real sign that something's off - whereas she might be animated with her friends, lifting her fins and moving them and swishing her tail from side to side, with him, with this... She's still. It's a strange thing. Uncannily relaxed, lazily observing him with a quiet judgement of a lion in the shade, but... It's still not right. A tension. A different kind of hyperawareness that burns behind her eyes like a reminder of just how dangerous she could really be. A distant, strange thing, not showing its hand, but sharp and deadly and cold as a knife's edge all the same. "Your Grace - while I am keen to see to my duties, as anyone should of such a proud title as our own, I should recommend you sway your hand of these matters." Cold. A cold, cold tune in her breath, spoken with lifts of her lips that leave her teeth gleaming in her wake. "I do not discourage you from your efforts, but I do state that this is... neutral ground, as it were, to my people. If you wish to seek my hand, I assure you, you have your chance in areas where the full formalities are present. To bring it here would have unforseen consequences, the likes of which neither of us would do good to face. There is a purpose and a direct mannerism which preserves what happens at this school, and so I recommend you adjust to it as I have. I do trust that someone such as yourself would have no difficulty in meeting that minor of a task in such a small place, and so I wholly recommend you loosen your shoulders and leave things in all of their proper places. There is a time and place for everything. It is just not here, and not now." Later, Miranda might realize how strange it felt, to be properly using Courtspeak again. But alas. That would have to come later, when she fully felt in control of her own bones and not slipped into the bitter home that welcomed her back with the numbness of shock.

*•.¸♥ ∞ “ Hm ...? Oh. ” Slow and uninterested blinks with half lidded eyes and a pursed frown. He had been running through the formulas of some complicated theoretics of advanced math homework on hand all done with a pom-pom pink glitter gel pen of course. 

What was this on about? Her hand in marriage? Quaint, but for once, not on his mind at the moment. His personality had shifted from the bubbling and in-your-face persona to subtle grace posed thoughtfully over other things of matter. He had two faces and this one was calmer in sway that held a graceful note of arrogance.

“ No, no. Not at this moment. ” Oh right, it did dawn on him he was being too casual with royalty and he clears his throat with a corrective cough. “ Apologies. What I mean your Highness is that I have moved my proposal to our courts. I am absolutely interested in your lovely hand and I have all the pedigree, assets, military prowess, economics and the what haves. I am fairly confident in being a top suitor of choice and of course I’ll be touching base with your courts for these sorts of proceedings as do they go. Naturally. 

My romanticizing was of course just a informality in hopes to make things more natural and I still enjoy your company in this informal space. I do hope we may remain acquaintances until official matrimony should our kingdoms decide it appropriate. ”

The very formal ‘courtspeak’ was a common inflection he was very use too. Seems like this was not just something of his own home dimension,

       And now that he broke out the formalities he returns to a bright smile and a ho-hum. 

“ Don’t get me wrong my dear Miranda! I am absolutely charmed by you naturally and I am very content to keep pursuing hands with all my enthusiasm! But once that’s exhausted or deflected to such a point it goes to the courts so we can concentrate on informalities such as school shenanigans! Crowns are awfully heavy after all. ” 

[chaoswillfallrpg]

SILAS CRUMP is THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS-OLD and a PETTY CRIMINAL in DIAGON ALLEY in LONDON. He looks remarkably like JOSH HARTNETT and considers himself NEUTRAL. He is currently UNPLAYABLE.

→ OVERVIEW:

tw: blood, bodily harm, death, murder 

An American werewolf roaming the streets of London, Silas has been running from himself since he was twenty-one years old though he has sadly ran into more danger than he intended to run away from. Born in Chicago, Silas was the eldest son of Muggle business owner CHRISTOPHER WHITLEY and his socialite wife MELISSA O’NEIL. As the eldest in their family and the Whitley family’s only son, Silas was heir to the Whitley Whiskey fortune and would be designated the family distillery that sat proudly on the outskirts of Chicago alongside their lavish home. The Whitley family had been Whiskey men since the 1800s when members of their family had arrived over from the North of England and brought their famous brand of drink alongside them. Silas’ early childhood was filled with long walks around their property, looking over their distilleries and being told day after day that all of this would be his. The first and smallest distillery they owned was the one next to their home, after their family brand had expanded most operations took place where they had more land leaving the Chicago distillers as mostly a tourist destination and occasional playground for Silas and his younger sister RIHANNON. When strange things began to happen to Silas, Rihannon was the first person to notice. At school children who bothered him would find themselves on the ceiling, whilst at home his mother’s pearls would vanish into thin air whilst Silas sported a knowing smirk. 

Silas’ sister liked to believe something was happening to her brother, but whilst Rhiannon panicked, Silas grinned. One day he’d woken up with the ability to do things which he’d spent time trying to perfect, then one afternoon he arrived home to a brown owl sitting on the bike rack, a letter in it’s mouth addressed to him. Taking it from the owl, he tore it open and read it there and then. Silas was a wizard and he had been accepted to begin studying a wizarding school to help him better control his magic. His parents had found assumed it was a hoax, until they made a key discovery. Whiskey was what made their family famous. But the blend hadn’t been simply alcohol, it had been mixed with an elixir that sent people crazy for the taste. Mount Greylock was unlike anything Silas could have imagined. A place where he learned to control the magic that flowed through his fingers, he fit in well amongst the house of fellow artistic thinkers and took to being a wizard as well as he could considering he had no prior knowledge when he arrived. His presence at the school was rare due to his Muggle-Born status, though he was never penalised for it as was the case in European schools. Silas enjoyed learning, particularly about the wizarding world and longed to find a place he fit amongst them. An experienced alchemist like his ancestors, Silas could brew anything he put his mind to. Becoming popular amongst the students at due to his ability to mix Muggle alcohol and potions into mind blowing elixirs. It was this talent that helped him catch the eye of Silas’ first girlfriend.

OPHELIA DELACOUR was a beautiful Half-Blood witch, Silas fell deeply in love with her very quickly. Upon graduating Mount Greylock Silas was sure of two things. He would take over his family business and extend its reach back to the wizarding world and he would marry Ophelia Delacour. Popping the question on her ninetieth birthday the pair got to work planning the wedding. Every other waking moment was spent at the factory with his father manufacturing their first blend of Whitley’s Wizard Whiskey which they would first serve to the world at the wedding. After perfecting the formula Silas visited the pub with his friends, stumbling home drunk in the dark and attempting to find a taxi. But it wasn’t a taxi that found Silas that night. A beautiful woman who he had been speaking to that evening followed him into the alleyway behind the pub and after exchanging a few short words and kisses, claimed she would be in touch before transforming into a beast before his very eyes. Biting Silas on the neck she slid away into the dark. Managing to get home Silas tried to hide what he had become. The wizarding world was not kind to werewolves and although his family accepted him as a wizard and his fiancée’s family were liberal they were not that liberal. Brewing himself wolfsbane and drinking it religiously, he hid it from them well. Locking himself in the distillery on a full moon away from the eyes and ears of his family. 

Days turned to weeks and weeks to months till his wedding was upon him. Burried in work on the night of his bachelor party he forgot to take his potion, chaining himself up in the distillery before passing out drunk. Unconscious, he hand’t noticed a pair of hands attempeting to untie him before he had shifted and it was too late. The next morning Silas awoke in the distillery to the sight of his sister torn to shreds on the floor in front of him. His whole world collapsing in a matter of seconds. Blinded by tears he buried her in her favourite field and made off into the dawn, changing his name and leaving his old life behind. Ashton Whitley could not live with what he had done, but Silas Crump might have a better life elsewhere with the past behind him. London was where he chose to drown his sorrows. Taking up a job in The White Wyvern he pulled pints before he was kicked out for draining their alcohol supply. That was when she found him. KAMALI SKENDER could smell the sorrow eating him up inside, stronger than any scent in London as he cried and wailed each full moon in the sewers below the surface of the city. The happiest Silas had been in a long while was when Le Cirque Des Rêves took him in. Though the circus was composed mostly of creatures and shady figures, Silas was grateful to find himself hired as an alchemy act, dazzling punters with his ability to mix weird and wonderful drinks they enjoyed during the show. Kamali was the mentor he needed. A werewolf who showed him that after the bite life went on.

She taught him how to love again and though his heart ached for Ophelia still, he forged a new life with Kamali, adopting a young wolf who came to need their aid and creating a family he did not think he would ever be able to have. CORIN HALE eased much of his pain, a little wolf she saw beauty in their kind and Silas began to see the world not through the dark lense he had always seen it but through her young eyes. Their life was a happy one. Until the evening BELLATRIX BLACK and RABASTAN LESTRANGE appeared at the circus. Cornering Silas the pair threatened to expose Silas to his new family and send word back to Chicago unless he joined their cause. A strong and older werewolf with pull in their community he was paramount to their cause, but shaken still by the death of his sister he refused and took off into the night with his daughter. Silas hadn’t wanted to take Corin, but he knew she would follow him to the ends of the earth even if it meant putting her at risk to find him. They had gotten as far as Nottingham before they had found them again. A fight ensued and seeing her strength and control despite the full moon, Rabastan and Bellatrix kidnapped Corin, casting a memory charm on Silas and staging the scene to appear as though she had been killed. When Silas came round again his daughter was gone. Shreds of her clothing remained and enough blood to suggest a massacre where she had stood. At first he thought he had lost control and murdered her, but something deep within him told him otherwise. 

The moon had been full when she had disappeared, but he had been taking his potion. Travelling back to London, Silas sought the help of defence lawyer RODOLPHUS LESTRANGE, knowing that as soon as Corin was reported missing the finger would be pointed his way. Silas doesn’t remember a lot from that night. Just the two figures and a bright light before everything went dark. Fragments came back to him, but as they did another body showed up. BOOKER BAGNOLD, torn to pieces and floating in a fountain. Just like his sister had been. With his name attached to the murder. Frightened, Silas thought on his feet and kidnapped fellow werewolf JONATHAN REEVES, taking locks of his hair and using it to masquerade as him with poly juice potion to allow him to search for his daughter without being taken by the Ministry. His plan was going smoothly until the evening of The Yule Ball, Booker’s older brother HARRISON BAGNOLD targeted him, attempting to strike him with the killing curse. In a final declaration of love, Jonathan’s girlfriend ROSALIE FLINT sacrificed herself and dived in front of the curse killing her instantly. After laying her to rest in the forest, Silas paid his respects, dropped his disguise and moved on, scared of being seen again as Jonathan. Currently on the run and uncertain of who to trust, Silas is leaning on the support of those closest to him. Though he is not sure of many things he is certain of one thing. He did not kill Booker Bagnold, Corin is still out there needing to be saved and there is something much larger going on in wizarding London which he must help stop.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Muggle-Born (Werewolf)

Pronouns → He/Him

Identification → Cis Male 

Sexuality  → Pansexual 

Relationship Status → Single 

Previous Education → Mount Greylock School for Magic (Walmsini)  

Societies → N/A

Family → Kamali Skender (partner), Corin Hale (adoptive daughter)

Connections  → Rodolphus Lestrange (lawyer), Andromeda Black (legal aid), Regulus Black (legal aid), Bellatrix Black (unknown adversary), Rabastan Lestrange (unknown adversary), Booker Bagnold (alleged victim), Harrison Bagnold (adversary), Ophelia Delacour (ex-fiancée), Jonathan Reeves (victim/adversary), Rosalie Flint (former girlfriend under polyjuice potion), Fenrir Greyback (former alpha under polyjuice potion)

Future Information → N/A

SILAS CRUMP IS A LEVEL 8 WIZARD/WEREWOLF.

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   5

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: (Y/n)'s day at the skelebro's house, Sans' day out.

A/N: So, in this chapter, we find out that (Y/n)'s soul trait is integrity; honesty and strong morals. The only problem with having integrity as a main soul trate is that, because you're so honest, even if you don't want to trust people, you can have the tendency to believe people easier, because you expect others to mean what they say as much as you do. Even extremely smart beings with the trait can second guess their instincts or have them overwritten because the person lying is someone they (want to) trust or have positive feelings about/ for. Based on the note... can you guess what's going to happen in this chapter... lol Also, sorry, guys! I kept trying to get this to post all day, but I guess that tumblr hates long posts...? Or me... Might just be me... lol.

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Little lies never hurt anyone.

Sans leaned on the counter of the odd and ends shop, though it should rightfully be called a thrift shop, since most of its contents had come from other people and not “sources” like a normal store. 

“You got a friend you’re buyin’ all this stuff for?” The bunny on the other side asked suggestively. 

Sans gave her a smirk. “what’d make ya think that?” 

“Well, you haven’t flirted with me once since you walked in the door,” she hinted. 

“ah, sorry, doll. jus’ a lil distracted fer a sec, thinkin’ a comin’ in... did ya want ta hop on th’ sans express an’ ride it ta th’ bone zone?” He asked with a heavy handed lewdness. 

Honestly, he’d rather spend the time with his sweetheart, but he had to keep up appearances so that no one got suspicious. 

Plus, awkward sexual tension filled innuendos were easier to deal in than talking about feelings and shit.

The bunny gave a giggle and continued to lean over the counter toward him instead of going to get his requested items. “Still as charming as ever, I see.” 

Sans flashed his smirk again. “so, can i get my stuff?” 

The bunny giggled again and with a wiggle of tail asked, “so, does that mean that you’re thinking of getting a pet? Going to go out and take one?” 

He let out an annoyed sound. “can i jus’ get my fuckin' stuff?” 

She looked a little startled by the suddenness of the change, but took it in stride as it wasn’t really so strange for the former Underground citizens to be testy, and turned to go to the back. 

"So," the bunny’s brother asked as he brought the requested items out a moment later, "you gonna wear these, then?" 

Sans sneered at him. "you wish ya freak." 

"A little too much denial…?" The bunny suggested with a smirk. 

Sans gave a disgusted face. "go fuck yerself." He turned, flicking his fingers and letting his magic tug on the piles of stuff on the shelves above the bunny's head. "get dunked on, ya ass hat," he called back over his shoulder.

.

“aww, ya ain’t seen nothin’ at all?” Sans asked with a suggestive grin to the small cluster of spider ladies selling their baked goods in the corner of the bar. "'s a human, hard ta miss..."

“Ooooh, no,” one hummed.

“No, not anything… Do you wanna buy a croissant, Sans? It tastes soooo good with mustard…” another tempted. 

“heh. ‘d rather have somethin' a lil sweeter on my tongue,” he insinuated, thinking of (Y/n) at home, spread across his bed, his tongue tasting all sorts of things… 

Drool was slowly pooling between his sharp teeth, and he quickly wiped it, giving an internal groan at how fast his cock had risen to attention at the thought. 

He needed to get with his sweetheart quick, even just enough to curb the appetite growing inside of him. 

The spider girls giggling brought him back to the present. He flashed a grin and went to the bar, getting a mustard to drink as he continued around, checking everyone for info. 

After the rest of his rounds, he headed to his last few information gathering contacts. The ones he knew couldn't keep their mouths shut. 

.

(Y/n) didn’t know what to do. She was stuck in this house, not able to leave, not much to do, nowhere to go. 

Sans’ room was messy, her clothes were dirty, it wasn’t even lunch time… 

First, she went to the bathroom and washed her clothes in the tub the best she could, cleaning herself as much as possible in the process, hanging them to dry so she could have something clean to go home in. 

Then, she went back to Sans’ room, looking around. She couldn’t read any of the books on the shelf, seeing that the words were all written in a strange sort of glyph, and remembered that Sans had told her he couldn't read human language, but as she put all the books on the shelves, she saw the covers had various strange pictures, outerspace, numbers, shapes, most of them looked like school books, but, like they’d be for some advanced courses. She flipped through the pages of a few of them and saw all sorts of charts and formulas that looked reminiscent of something she’d seen on a tv show with Neil deGrasse Tyson as the host. Very smart… and science-y… 

(Y/n) put them on the shelves, trying to keep them together as best she could. Some of the books were obviously not… string theory… or whatever the hell the others were… but, novels or something, a few of them she had only a vague idea, having to make a guess that one with a simple cover of a monster laughing at a casket and a crowd laughing at the two was either a black comedy novel, or a book of dark jokes. 

She leaned toward the dark jokes. 

Under his desk, she found a folded up paper and opened it, trying to see if it was important, though she'd really have no idea, and saw that it looked like some sort of congratulatory certificate. High school diploma, maybe? 

After she got everything sorted, she tried to put it with other things that looked the same. 

She went out into the rest of the house and found a garbage can under the extra tall sink cabinet, and took it up Sans' room, only throwing away things that were obviously trash; food wrappers, crumpled up bits of paper, other strange little things that might have been dried lava, or eternally frozen snow… any way, they were things that looked like they had fallen from his shoes. 

When she took the garbage can back down, she found something that looked like it might be a vacuum, and she looked at it, turning it around and pressing the buttons to see how they worked without any power, before sticking it back in the closet and pulling out the broom and dust pan. 

Sweeping was better than nothing… and also better than blowing up the house. 

The next task (Y/n) tackled was sorting out the laundry, though she couldn’t find any washer or dryer to clean them in. Maybe they made laundromat trips? 

After that she figured it was about lunch time, so she dug through the fridge and ate a small portion of the lasagna from the night before. It wasn’t the worst she’d ever had, but it was far from the best. Maybe if she hid some of the spices he’d used that should have stayed out of the mix, like sage, paprika, cinnamon, nutmeg… really, she thought maybe he’d just put some of everything in the spice rack in there. 

She tried turning on the tv and entertaining herself, but the only channels they seemed to get all had the same robotic actor on them, overdramatically giving monologues, "hosting" or cooking things- awful things… that’s probably where Sans’ brother had gotten the recipe for the lasagna… 

She turned it back off, and decided to look through the windows to try to get an idea of the area she was in. Knowing that she was at least supposedly in danger, and most likely truly could be, she only peeped from the edges of the window for the first few minutes, but after noticing that there didn't seem to be anyone or anything outside but tall grass and flowers, she just looked through it normally. 

I thought they said we were in monster territory…? 

(Y/n) put a hand over her face. What if they were all the way on the other side of the monster territory? She certainly couldn't find any landmarks that looked familiar, and the tall buildings usually on the horizon seemed to be missing. 

Only more support for her 'Sans is actually a nice, though perverted, guy' theory… 

She sighed and decided to go look out the windows in Sans' room, thinking that maybe she'd see something familiar from higher up. 

(Y/n) was standing at the window, wondering what kind of flowers were in the field, when the door opened. She, of course, expected it to be Sans, this being his room and all, but the blood drained from her face was she saw the tall skeleton in the doorway. 

"HUMAN, I THOUGHT YOU WOULD PROBABLY GET HUNGRY, AND I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D BE ABLE TO FEND FOR YOURSELF," he shouted, sounding extremely put upon. "AND I KNEW SANS WOULD BE TOO LAZY TO REMEMBER TO FEED YOU, SO I- WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?" He asked suspiciously, cutting himself off before getting to his point about how much of a hassle it would be if she died from starvation.  

Her color had gotten paler when she'd seen him, and her eyes had started darting around the room, as though taking stock of what she could use as a weapon. Papyrus automatically did a check and found that not only did she have a blue soul, denoting her strong integrity, but it seemed to have a bit of a purple glow around the edges showing her perseverance, looking a bit like blue velvet; blue, but purple in the shadows caused by the texture, and she had an extremely low LOVE, around that of a child's, and was surprised that her desire to find a weapon went so against her stats. 

It must be a survival tactic, then. Probably to defend against any oncoming attacks.

She posed no threat to him, but he applauded her instinct to be ready to fight if necessary. 

She swallowed harshly and managed to rasp out a broken whisper. "Loo-n-  ou-si-." She pointed out the window to try to help him understand what she was saying. 

He seemed to have dismissed her, though, looking around the room. "OH MY GOD!!" 

She jumped at his exclamation. Did she do something wrong by cleaning? 

"THIS IS THE CLEANEST I'VE SEEN MY LAZY BROTHER'S ROOM SINCE WE MOVED IN!! BUT, WHY DIDN'T YOU DO THE LAUNDRY? IT'S JUST SITTING HERE IN PILES." 

"C-ou-... cou-n't fi-d," she rasped, shaking her head nervously apologetic. Her hand went to her throat, and the way she winced showed how hard on her throat just getting that much out was. 

Papyrus hummed, his fingers lifting to his chin. It would make sense that she wouldn't wash them if she couldn't find anything to do it with. "FEAR NOT, HUMAN! I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, WILL SHOW YOU WHERE THE WASHING MACHINE IS! AND HOW TO USE IT!!" 

(Y/n) opened her mouth to object that she did know how a washer worked, but it didn't matter, because he had just turned and started out the door with, "COME, HUMAN, AND BRING A PILE OF LAUNDRY!!" 

After having the instructions on how to use the machine yelled at her, for no particular reason, she was glad that it had been Sans that had found her, and that Papyrus had only come to check on her and would be leaving soon. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to stay in his presence without constantly being on the edge of a panic attack. 

When she came back into the front room from where the laundry room was, behind a hidden door in the kitchen, Papyrus was standing a little awkwardly near the door. 

"W-WELL… I CAN'T SPEND ALL DAY MAKING SURE THAT YOU DON'T DIE! I HAVE TO GO! …" He stood silently for another moment, then announced, "I'M GOING." 

(Y/n) gave a smile and waved, the most she could do without hurting her throat further or risking offending him, and had to hold back a laugh as the start of a red glow touched his cheeks and he looked flustered for a millisecond before he gave a tug to straighten his outfit before he turned and walked out through the door. 

After Papyrus left, (Y/n) mostly just hung around and did laundry, looking through things, but not finding much for her to do until she found a deck of cards, then she sat on the floor and played solitaire, pausing only when the laundry was done, to fold it and put it on the desk chair, not wanting to dig around in Sans’ drawers. 

He was a guy… guys had… stuff … that she’d rather not stumble across… especially due to the strange things that had apparently turned him on before. Also, being a skeleton monster made him different from every other guy she'd known, and the thought of finding super weird fetish stuff that she'd inevitably be morbidly curious about gave her pause. 

She wasn't a "freak" but… curiosity was something that had gotten the better of her before, and some things in life, you just didn't need to know. 

.

(Y/n) had finished the few loads of laundry, folded them, and turned to just playing card games by herself on Sans’ bed by the time the door opened and Sans walked in, looking tired and sweating a weird sort of translucent, but red tinged, perspiration. 

He stepped in and closed the door behind him before looking up, but then froze in place and swept his shocked and slightly horrified gaze around the room. 

For the second time that day, she wondered if she'd done something wrong by cleaning Sans' room. 

He stiffly walked to the chair and pushed the laundry off onto the floor. 

(Y/n) made an indignant noise from the bed, but heard him mutter, "too clean…" 

Ahh, so he's one of those people who need a little disorder to feel comfortable , she noted, feeling the anxiety leaving her as he tossed his coat on the chair and turned to her. 

He smiled and lifted a bag onto the bed. "i, uh- i uh- gotcha some stuff…" His expression shifted to that angry sort of flustered look he'd had before, paying close attention to how his other hand was fiddling with the edge of his red sweater. "somethin' ta wear, s-so ya don't have ta keep wearin' dirty clothes…" 

Sans glanced over at her and felt another pang in his chest at the beautiful smile she was giving him. 

fuck-! so adorable! an'... why d'i feel disappointed that she's not wearing my clothes, now?  

(Y/n) smiled at him, mouthing thank you . She hesitated before nervousness seemed to grow over her a little and her gaze focused on the bed. 

“wassup, sweetheart?” He asks, feeling a bit nervous about what was on her mind. 

She gestured, asking, can I go home? She immediately winced and glanced up at him then back to the bed, as though she were worried he was going to hit her. 

Sans felt his soul throb painfully at the thought of her leaving, and his hand automatically went to it. He realized what he was doing, and changed the movement to scratching his sternum through his sweater. Luckily, he had a reason for her to stay. He move the bag onto the floor, then sat on the mattress and laid back with his shoulders about even with her, making himself comfortable as he told her, “i talked ta alla my contacts, an’ it sounds like no one knows ‘xactly where ya are, but they definitely know that there’s a human on monster turf.” 

Her brow dipped in confusion and she asked, how?  

Sans shrugged as he put his arms behind his head, his fingers running over a crack on the back of his skull. “dunno fer sure-” ok, it might have been from his asking so blatantly if anyone had seen a human around- “but i hadda getcha here somehow. coulda jus’ been spotted on th’ way. tough luck, but, should be good in two or three days. ‘f we wait fer three, they’ll most likely ferget ta be lookin’ fer ya.” 

(Y/n) eyed him, and he was glad that he’d already been sweating so that she hopefully didn’t notice the fresh round of perspiration beading on his skull. Finally, she seemed to accept it, and he let out an internal sigh of relief. 

“so, you, uh, ya have an ok day?” She gave a half nod half shrug. “noticed ya cleaned up ‘round here… an’ i appreciate th’ thought behind it, sweetheart, ‘s real sweet a ya, but, i gotta ask ya; please don’t. kinda wigs me out when ‘s too clean. like it’s a fake fuckin’ storybook,” he muttered. 

She put a hand on his arm, and it felt like Sans’ soul tumbled around his rib cage. He looked up to see the apologetic look on her face. Sorry...

Apologies? Yeah… Those were something that never happened in the Underground. 

In a kill or be killed world, any sign of niceness was seen as a form of weakness, so niceties had been dropped long ago. 

The way his sweetheart was so nice, showing kindness and caring was definitely something he liked about her, but… it also made him uncomfortable. 

Sans would never turn away from her for her weakness, he wanted to protect her, keep her with him and safe. But… he didn't know how to react to this kindness. So he again took it to a place he was more comfortable with. 

“ah, dollface, don’t worry ‘bout it…” He turned and his thumb went out to run down her cheek, trying not to let the tiny flinch get to him. “if it’d make ya feel better, i know somthin’ ya could do ta make it up ta me…” He gave her a smirky grin and took his hand back, putting a fingertip on his cheek. “how ‘bouta kiss?” He watched her gaze turn wary, her body stiffening like she was getting ready to bolt. 

False, flirty affection and innuendo was so much easier to handle than real affection, even if he wanted her affection like a starving man wanted food. It seemed, though, that she knew how to take flirting about as well as he knew how to take a compliment, so he again changed directions.

 “kiddin’- ‘m kiddin’, doll,” he assured quickly, feeling a prick of pain in his soul. He was not kidding. He'd probably do anything to get her to willingly kiss him again. “heya, knock knock.”

She looked at him uncertainly, but lifted a brow and tilted her head. Who’s there?  

“sherlock,” he told her, watching as she puzzled over it. 

Sherlock who…? Seemed to be what she asked with her confused expression after a moment. 

“ sherlock yer door tight, sweetheart,” he told her, watching as her eyes closed as she took it in, then her posture changed as she silently chuckled. 

Sans’ smile widened in satisfaction that she enjoyed his joke. “knock knock, doll.”

She lifted her brow to ask who's there, but it was the cute little smile on her face that made his soul throb. 

“mustache,” he told her, watching her expression contort in confusion. 

Mustache? Can skeleton monsters even grow mustaches? What the hell? She thought and tilted her head inquiringly.

“ mustache ya a question, but i’ll shave it fer later,” he told her with a blow off expression, watching her giggle as squeaks and huffs left her. 

There… that adorable expression on her face was a much better look than her being worried that he was going to do something unpleasant to her. Even if the worry was justifiable, given his track record concerning her… 

He just watched her giggling for a moment, red spreading over the bridge of his nose. 

She tapped her hand to his arm and managed to ask, you know a lot of knock knock jokes?  

“knock knock,” he told her in answer, and she lifted a brow immediately in question. “rhino,” he told her. 

Oh, this one had to be good. She tilted her head and lifted her brow again. 

“ rhino every knock knock joke there is,” he told her, his grin getting a bit goofier at her reaction. Stars she was cute! “so, what else d’ja do?”

(Y/n) wondered if it was something normal for monsters to talk so comfortably with someone they’d only really just met the day before. It really seemed like some ideal relationship situation from some rom-com; he got home from work, told her about his day, asked about hers… The only thing missing was an actual relationship…

She masked the feelings her internal musings brought up with the ease of practice and gestured around the room. She was good at ‘don’t rock the boat.’ 

“jus’ this, huh?” He asked and she nodded before pointing at the cards, indicating that she'd also played cards. “sounds like a  good day ta me, but maybe ‘m jus’ lazy,” he said as he closed his eye sockets. A contented smile tilting his normal grin up. “‘m gonna try ta get a nap in before dinner. feel like joinin’ me?”

(Y/n) shook her head to answer him, knowing he could see her though his slightly open socket. 

“suit yerself, sweetheart,” he told her, shifting his shoulders as he got comfortable.

He seemed to almost immediately fall asleep, soft snores coming from him, and not even reacting when she’d waved her hand in front of his face. 

She went back to her card game, the weird feeling of being so comfortable around a strange man (one that had pushed her against the wall and basically rubbed against her, no less!) struck her as wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to be truly uncomfortable. 

Uneasy and worried from his actions sometimes? 

For sure. 

Uncomfortable? 

Nope. 

Something brushed against and down her back, laying against her butt. 

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder, seeing Sans' arm laid out behind her. She watched him closely, not wanting to miss any tell in his expression, but other than slightly rolling toward her, he still seemed asleep. 

She gave a doubtful glance, but it fell to the back of her mind as she continued her game. 

After a few minutes, she felt Sans rolling toward her more, his hand sliding over the bed, snaking over her thigh, wrapping around her waist and burying his face against her thigh. 

Oh, yeah. He's asleep, my ass, she mentally grumbled. 

She rolled her eyes and went back to her game, not entirely comfortable with this extent of touching, but she knew that some good friends got touchy and cuddled, so it wasn't some insanely strange concept to her, even if they weren't that close. 

Halfway through the next round of her game, (Y/n) felt Sans' arms tighten around her, and she looked down to see him rolling over onto his stomach, putting him on the cards and into her lap, his head awkwardly pressing against her. 

She tried to shift around to get rid of the discomfort of his skull pressing against her hip, and the weird kink he'd put in his neck vertebrae to do so. 

Of course, with all of her edging around his head, and their shifting around, she ended up laying back with him in her lap, his skull laying on her stomach. How could this end any other possible way with her luck?

Honestly, though, with all the terrible things he could possibly do to her, that she knew of and worried about, laying with his head on her stomach hadn't even made the list. 

She gave a shattered, huffing sigh that made her cough a little, but it cleared quickly. 

She kept herself ready in case she was going to have to defend herself from the skeleton, but folded her arms over her chest to feel like she had at least a little cover, and resigned herself to laying there until either he "woke up," or she had to convince him to move so she could use the bathroom. 

Sans tightened his arms around his sweetheart as she coughed, hating that he didn't have green magic to try and fix it instantly, but, thankfully, it quickly ended. 

He tried to be subtle, not wanting to give away that he was awake, but it was so hard when all he wanted to do was nuzzle into the soft squishiness of her belly. Especially when some of her squishiest bits were against his clavicle and were tempting him to rub against them… and give them a sniff…  

fuck- ya smell so fuckin' good, sweetheart… He mentally groaned to himself. 

(Y/n) shifted under him, but he didn't let it disturb him; he was an expert at pretending to sleep. 

"SANS-" 

The skeleton on her belly jumped at the loud voice, giving a grunt of surprise. 

"YOU BETTER BE DOWN HERE IN FIVE MINUTES TO EAT DINNER!!"

"paps, you fuckin' sonuvabitch," he grumbled to himself, not quite audible to (Y/n). 

"welp. dinner time, doll. you joinin' us downstairs 'gain t'night?" He asked as he sat up, not leaving the bed, or her pile of cards, but off of her. 

She gave him a nervous look, not wanting to be afraid, but also very afraid of the tall, loud skeleton downstairs. 

"aww, c'mon sweetheart, he ain't that bad. i mean, don't get me wrong, 'e's bad, but not that kind a bad." 

As strange as it was for her to trust anyone so quickly, his words kind of made her feel better about being in the same room as the taller skeleton.  

She followed him downstairs, deciding that she was misreading the look on his face and posture as content and proud, as though she trusted him to be her knight in a red sweater; it was probably just self confidence. 

God knew she'd never felt that much of it to know. 

Sans pulled out a chair for her, but instead of waiting to push her in, he sat in the chair next to it and shifted the seat, pulling it closer to him when she sat. 

(Y/n) would protest, but she really did feel safer being closer to him, and farther away from the other skeleton. 

He served her a small slice of lasagna, and she knew that it was because he knew it was going to taste awful, and he didn't want to stick her with too much to eat instead of a plot to starve her. 

It was a quiet dinner, much the same as the night before, with the toe of Sans' sneaker hitting the leg of her chair he was so close, and Papyrus giving her not at all hidden suspicious glares, as though he didn't think it was safe to hold a conversation in front of her. 

(Y/n) took another bite of the lasagna and hid her wince. 

She really should have hidden those spices earlier… 

A/N: Oh Sans... there's a difference between telling Paps that he's an amazing cook and telling (Y/n) she has to stay there because there's no possible way she can get home. Also, I recently got a message from someone who had made fanart of another story I wrote and asked if I wanted to see it- uh, fuck yeah, I do! You kidding?! You were inspired by something I wrote?! I'm gonna fangirl... I love it even more because I can't draw... I guess what I'm saying is that if you do anything inspired from something I've written (art, stories, drabbles), you don't have to ask, there's a 100% chance I want to see it. And that I'll squeal.