#so va instead vai

[ryuuseini]

If i had a better relationship with my mother/she wasn't highkey homophobic, I would ask her to translate @insecateur french fics so i can understand the tu/vous obsession better but I do not want her to know I read gay fanfic about French men fucking

[momavhagarfinallyconcureddorne]

The Ex-Files: Vettel & Rozzi in Imola

The Ex-Files Masterlist Main Masterlist

Summary: Claudia Rozzi, Retired F1 driver and Charles Leclerc, current F1 driver for Ferrari had once upon a time a seemingly perfect and passionate relationship but in the middle of the ‘22 season Rozzi dropped off the face of the earth. What happens when the two are forced back into the vicinity of each other, can they forgive each other?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Ex!Oc (Claudia Rozzi)

Warning: Google translated languages, online hate, angst, let me know if there's more.

Twitter

Real Life

“À QUOI PENSIEZ-VOUS? (WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?)” Was yelled so loudly through Claudia's phone by her mother that people on the other side of the principality could probably hear the woman yelling at her daughter. Whilst the two women often didn't get along, Claudia had tendencies to call her mother and ask for her opinion because she knew her mother had good instincts and Mrs Rozzi had always respected her daughter's drive and passion for her career. “NE VOUS SOUVENEZ-VOUS PAS DE CE QUI S’EST PASSÉ LA DERNIÈRE FOIS! (CAN'T YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPEND LAST TIME!)”

“Bonjour Mère, comment vas-tu ? Je vais bien Claudia, comment vas-tu ? Quelque chose d’excitant s’est passé dans votre vie récemment ? Eh bien, en fait, je... (Hello Mother, how are you? I'm well Claudia, how are you? Anything exciting happening in your life recently? Well actually I…)” A tired Claudia answered, who had just woken up by her phone ringing at four o clock in the morning as she lay wrapped in her heavy and warm duvet.

Whilst rambeling trying to get her mother to calm down, she pulled on the blinds, allowing the Mediterranean sun to creep through the windows. Only in the early mornings would the sun lay heavily on the flat as a building blocked it during the rest of the day.

“Arrête ça! (Stop that!)” Claudias mother roared at her daughters antics.

“J’ai juste pensé que ce serait bien de... (I just thought it would be nice to…)” Claudia started before getting cut off.

"Qui, sain d’esprit, retournerait dans cette équipe ? Et ce garçon quand même ? (Who in their right mind would go back to that team? And that boy nonetheless?)"

This was how most of their conversations went, neither would listen to the other and in the end they would just say goodbye without resolving it and never bring it up again or realise that the two of them had been saying exactly the same thing but with different words and therefore end the conversation.

"Maman, n’est-ce pas toi qui as dit que je devais saisir toutes les chances de revenir en F1 ? (Mum, wasn't it you that said I should take every chance to get back into F1?)" Claudia said groggily, as she ran a hand through her hair to take a look at the time before turning over and slowly start running her hand thorugh her dogs fur. Claudia had found her little puppy Red, named after her then team, out in the middle of the street right outside of her then flat.

"Eh bien, je ne m’attendais pas à ce que vous retourniez chez Ferrari, que vous alliez chez Williams et que vous remplaciez cet américain à la place ! Tu as déjà conduit pour eux, je suis sûr qu’ils aimeraient te revoir, (Well I didn't expect you to go back to Ferrari, go to Williams and replace that american instead! You've driven for them before, I'm sure they would love to have you back,)" Mrs Rozzi hissed through the phone, her voice almost giving up in the end since she didn't take a breather during her entire monolouge.

"Maman, je ne peux pas faire ça. Ferrari est bon, ils ont un nouveau directeur d’équipe qui semble savoir ce qu’il fait. C’est une excellente occasion de montrer que je suis toujours aussi bon et que je veux un siège pour la saison prochaine. Je devrai juste être cordial quand je le verrai, alors que Fred m’a promis que je n’aurais pas à le faire à moins que cela ne soit nécessaire. Et je peux le faire puisque je suis généreusement rémunéré. J’étais leur soi-disant dernier espoir, alors ils ne se sont pas vraiment retenus, (Mum, I can't do that. Ferrari is good, they have a new team principal who actually seems like he knows what he's doing. It's a great oppertunity to show that I'm still as good and want a seat for the next season. I'll just have to be cordial when I see him, whick Fred has promised I wont have to unless neccesairy. And I can do that since I'm being compensated generously. I was their so called last hope so they didn't really hold back,)" Claudia argued back whilst rubbing her face with the palm of her hand as Red climbed up on her bed and decidning to lay down on her mothers chest and curl up there.

"Claudia..."

"Regardez, c’est tôt le matin, nous sommes dans des fuseaux horaires différents et vous m’avez réveillé. Je dois être à Imola dans quelques heures, alors au revoir. Je te parlerai plus tard et je dirai à Seb que papa dit bonjour, (Look it's early in the morning, we're in different timezones and you woke me up. I have to be in Imola in a few hours so goodbye. I'll talk to you later and I'll tell Seb that dad says hello,)" Claudia cut off her mother for once before ending the call and throwing her phone down onto her bed and getting up with Red in her arms to get ready to drive the almost six hours drive to meet Seb an get everything ready for not only her first race since 2022 but also the running of Ratzbergers and Sennas cars.

Instagram

claudia97rozzi

liked by scuderiaferrari, sebastianvettel, wbuxtonofficial and others

claudia97rozzi Buongiorno Imola. Ecco una giornata con me e il meraviglioso Seb. Abbiamo fatto un giro in città prima di scendere in pista e vedere le meravigliose auto che guideremo questo fine settimana. Sono onorato che mi sia stato chiesto di guidare la vettura di Ronald Ratzberger questo fine settimana al fianco di Sebastian ad Ayrton Sennas. Non vedo l'ora di vedervi tutti questa settimana, e ai tifosi: sono molto entusiasta di tornare a gareggiare per tutti voi questo fine settimana e spero in un buon risultato.

Qui abbiamo anche una foto molto bella di Seb che si infastidisce con me e con tutta la mia eccitazione questo fine settimana.

Forza Ferrari Sempre <3

see translation

Good morning Imola. Here's a day with me and the wonderful Seb. We took a ride around town beforeheading out on the track and seeing the wonderfulcars we'll be driving this weekend. I am honoured that I have been asked to drive Ronald Ratzberger's car this weekend alongside Sebastian in Ayrton Sennas. I can't wait to see you all this week, and to the tifosi: I'm very excited to be back racing for all ofyou this weekend and hopefully a good result. 

Here we also have a very nice photo of Seb getting annoyed with me and all my excitement thisweekend.

Forza Ferrari Sempre <3

3,981 comments

user1 This will be more entertaining than the current F1 season

→ user2 seriously 😴🥱 → user3 👏👏👏

user4 ARE YOU KIDDING ME I WILL SEE YOU ON MY BIRTHDAY AT THE RACE DRIVING SENNA‘S CAR WHAT A BIRTHDAY PRESENT😭😭😭😭😭😭

user5 Are you kidding me? OMG two of best drivers of all time, together. Love you seb, we miss u.

user6 My first time at an F1 race and i will see my favourite athlete of all time is quite a highlight🤩

user7 I've started crying already

→ user8 AHAH SAME

so does anyone have an idea of what dog Red is haha? I have no idea, please help

taglist: @xoscar03 @meadhbhcavanagh @ironmaiden1313

[zecretsanta]

to: @ladylakebees 

from: @goggles-girl

Hello! Hope you enjoy this piece! This was my first ever ZE fic so please enjoy!

The Field siblings hosting a Christmas celebration with Junpei, Lotus, Seven, and Alice present. Christmas activity highlight: throwing darts at a board with Ace’s mugshot on it.

“Clover, don’t you think that’s enough tinsel?”

  Clover’s bright pink hair popped up from the box of Christmas decorations she had buried herself in.

  “Ugh, you’re such a Scrooge, Light. Tinsel is the best Christmas decoration. I want this tree to sparkle and shimmer!”

  “To the contrary,” Light said. “I’m sure that’s an admirable goal to have but I can’t help but wonder if you might have been more successful in that endeavor had you not started decorating the tree with only an hour to go before the party.”

  Clover let out a huff before silently sticking her tongue out at her brother.

  “Keep that up and a bird is going to make a nest on it,” Light said, not even bothering to turn his head in her direction.

  “Don’t you have a quiche or something to check on?!?” Clover asked, brushing glitter off of her sweater.

  “Indeed. I suppose I shall leave you too it.” Light carefully excused himself from the rocking chair he had been sitting in and made his way to the kitchen of the little townhouse the Field siblings shared.

Even having been around him for years, Clover was amazed at how self-sufficient her brother was. She regularly burned herself on pots and pans and had the scars to prove it, yet he was a perfect natural.

  Shaking her head, she turned back to the large Christmas tree in front of her. It was her first time decorating for the holiday as their parents didn’t really celebrate, but she was determined to make it a good time for all involved. She and Light had gone to a specialty store a week ago and bought two large boxes of tinsel, ornaments, lights, and customized stockings. This resulted in the apartment looking as if Santa himself had barfed all over it, but it didn’t matter to Clover.

  As she continued to place tinsel and ribbon around the tree, Clover got lost in thought making sure everything looked good-so much so that when a knock sounded at the door she nearly jumped a foot off the ground.

  “I’ll get it!” she yelled to her brother who was still tinkering around in the kitchen. She raced to the door and took a peak through the peephole. On the other side was the strange woman she and her companions had picked up on the side of the road in Nevada. Instead of the Egyptian costume she had once worn, here she appeared to be in a cozy grey keyhole sweater and a black skirt.

  Clover flung the door open. “Alice! You made it!”

  The dark-haired woman let out a soft giggle. “Why of course, I couldn’t miss the party of the year now, could I?”

  “Come in, come in!” Clover stepped to the side so Alice could enter. After closing the door behind her, she wrapped her in a big hug.

  “I hope I’m not too early,” Alice said. She set down what looked like a wax-sealed wine bottle down then hung her purse on the hook next to the door.

  “Not at all!” Light called from the kitchen.

  Alice picked up the wine bottle and moved in his direction.

  “Bonjour ma chérie! Comment vas-tu?” Light was particularly fond of Alice, not only because he felt she might be a good influence on his little sister but also because it gave him a chance to practice his French.

  “Je vais bien, et vous?” she responded, pressing her cheek to his and making a kiss sound.

  “Je vais très bien,” Light said, reciprocating the gesture.

  “This is a lovely place you two have. Seems you’ve done quite well for yourself,” Alice commented, making her way to the living room. 

  “Anything’s better than being followed around by those lame bodyguards. Such a nuisance. Pretty sure that one bald guy was a pervert too,” Clover huffed.

   “Well I’m glad things have worked out well for the both of you.” Alice smiled warmly. “Do you need any help with your tree?”

  “Yes! Help me decorate Alice!” Clover jumped up and ran over to the open box on the floor. “Take these!” She thrust a small box of pink and blue ornaments towards her friend excitedly.

  The two continued to work on the tree and chat while Light busied himself in the kitchen. After about 20 minutes, another knock sounded on the door, this one much deeper and heftier than when Alice had arrived.

  “Clover?” Light called.

  “Got it!” The girl yelled and ran for the door, nearly tripping over a string of ribbon spiraling down from the tree.

  As Clover glanced through the peephole, she saw a small cluster of people-a tall, broad man, a shorter, younger man about Clover’s age, a middle aged woman and two girls also around Clover’s age that looked similar to each other and also the older woman.

  “Hey guys! Merry Christmas!” Clover said as she threw the front door open.

  “Clover!” One of the young girls squealed and threw her arms around Clover’s neck. Ennea had cut her hair into a short angled bob recently and was wearing a gray beanie, black leggings and a red and gray flannel, seemingly going for comfort over festivity.

  “It’s so good to see you guys!” Clover said, moving on to the first girl’s twin and squeezing her tight. Nona had beautiful long black hair that was woven into an intricate braid with little red and green Christmas bells tied in to match her green silky dress and red sweater worn over the top of it, much more festive than her sister.

  “My, Clover, life seems to be treating you well,” Lotus, or Hazuki as she was more commonly known, took her turn to give Clover a hug before stepping into the townhome. Hazuki was wearing a teal dress with a white coat and black strappy pumps. It wasn’t terribly cold outside but Clover couldn’t help but wonder if the lady was chilled at all.

  “Even better now that you guys are here!” 

  Clover waved the big hulking man into the room. “Hey get in here ya big lug, you’re letting all the warm air out.”

  Once it was free of his large orange blazer, Seven’s big hand landed on Clover’s head and tousled her hair, much to her chagrin. “Good to see ya too, brat.”

  Finally all that was left outside was Junpei. He looked much more haggard than the last time Clover had seen him, with unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes. It had taken a lot to get him to agree to come to the party, but seeing the dead look in his eyes she was more grateful than ever that Seven had basically threatened to kidnap him if he didn’t come on his own.

  “Hey Junpei.”

  “Hey Clover.”

  After a moment of hesitation, she pulled him into a hug. It was a careful, delicate embrace. She was afraid if she squeezed too hard he would break into pieces in her hands. The smell of alcohol on his warm breath told her that he was doing even worse than she had thought. But then again, she couldn’t blame him. She knew exactly what losing someone that mattered so much to you felt like, and frankly drinking away your sorrows was a lot tamer than what she could imagine herself doing if things went too far.

  “I’m really glad you could make it,” she said softly, receiving a faint squeeze from his arm in response.

  As she led Junpei back into the heart of the house, Light was setting down the enormous fruit platter Hazuki and her daughters had brought. Alice was talking to Ennea and Nona while Seven and Hazuki settled into the couch.

  “Junpei! What a delight to have you in our presence this fine Christmas Eve.” Light grinned at the dark haired man who had just arrived. If there was anything the Field siblings shared, it was their fondness for Junpei.

  “Hey Sn-Light,” Junpei said.

  Light’s face broke out into a lopsided grin that anyone who didn’t know him might assume meant he was being a smartass. “Please feel free to call me what feels comfortable to you.”

  “Thanks, man,” Junpei nodded at him. He then settled down onto a love seat, wrapping his black leather jacket closer around him.

  “Perfect timing everyone! Now that we’re all here, our food is ready. Please come eat your fill and enjoy a variety of cocktails and other drinks,” Light proudly announced to rest of the room.

  “Light, could you please change the music??” Clover pleaded with her brother as their guests began to fill their plates in the kitchen.

  “Why would that be? Do you not find Tchaikovsky a perfect accompaniment for a Christmas party?” Light asked with a quizzical expression on his face.

  “Classical music is so lame for any party. Besides, I think some more classic Christmas spirit vibes would help cheer Junpei up.”

  “Ah, I suppose you might be right. Fine, I will play something more cheerful.” Light disappeared into the other room before coming back with a new CD, which he promptly switched out in the player.

  As more mainstream Christmas carols began to play in the background, the guests began to settle back into their seats in the living room with full glasses and plates. While they ate, they each recounted where life had taken them in the months since the event that had brought them altogether. Hazuki had scored a great programming job that she was proud of, while Ennea had followed in her mother’s footsteps and was studying computer science in college. Nona announced that she was taking courses in criminal psychology, which perked Alice’s ears up. 

  The two of them continued a private conversation as Seven informed the rest of the group that he and Junpei had been investigating “some freaky cult” that had ties to Hongou, and therefore the Kurashikis. Seven seemed optimistic about their chances of not only crushing the potentially dangerous group but also finding the perpetrators of the second Nonary Game. Clover could tell though that Junpei was uncomfortable with this line of discussion, his knuckles turning white around the beer he was nursing.

  Apparently Light could tell as well without Clover needing to nudge him, because as soon as Seven was finished talking he stepped right in.

  “Speaking of Mr. Hongou, I took the liberty of planning an extra activity for the night. I thought it could bring some catharsis to our particular cast of characters. If you’ll follow me.” With that, Light stood up and began making his way to the back door.

  “What did you do??” Clover whispered, following close behind him.

  “Oh you will see,” Light dismissed her.

  As the group made their way into the small backyard that came with the town home, Light made his way over to a strange contraption that was facing the back wall. It was a vertical wooden square supported by two planks, one on each side connecting to another horizontal piece of wood attached to wheels at the ground. Light pulled it away from the wall and turned it to face the guests before opening the top piece of wood to reveal a dart board underneath-except this board was covered by something. As Light stepped out of the way, darts in hand, Clover let out a giggle.

  “Oh you didn’t.” Hazuki let out a shocked gasp but the look in her eyes was one of glee.

  “How did you even get that?” Nona asked.

  “It’s public record, just like all mug shots are,” Light smirked. Plastered on top of the dart board was the mug shot of Gentarou Hongou, taken just hours after the second Nonary Game participants made their way back to civilization and explained their story.

  “Now who would like to go first?” Light asked, extending his hand with the darts to the crowd.

  “Shit, don’t mind if I do,” Seven said. He grabbed a dart from Light’s hand, squinted his right eye, stuck out his tongue and let the dart fly. It was a decent throw but still only hit the edge of the paper.

  “Nice shot,” Alice said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Hey lady, I’m just gettin’ warmed up. Think you could do better?”

  Without a word, Alice exchanged her eggnog for a dart and pushed the mountain of a man out of the way as best as she could. Clover watched as she straightened her posture and adjusted her arm. No one let out a breath for a few silent seconds, then Alice let the dart fly. It hit Hongou square in his mouth.

  “Lucky shot,” Seven muttered under his breath, walking away and downing the rest of his beer.

  “Damn Alice, didn’t know you were a darts champion,” Hazuki said.

  “What can I say, my line of work has some unexpected benefits. Never hurts to be a well-rounded person,” Alice smiled.

  “Who wants to go next?” Light asked, pulling the darts from the board.

  Ennea and Nona both began clamoring for the next dart, but Clover wasn’t paying them any mind. She took a glance at Junpei, who had cracked the first smile she had seen all evening. 

  “Hey,” Clover said, sidling up to him and taking the available seat on the concrete bench he had perched himself on.

  “Hey,” he said, not really looking at her.

  “Are you doing okay, Junpei?”

  A sigh. “Is that a trick question?”

  “You know what I mean, you jerk.”

  “Well, I’m not trapped in a sinking boat, or being axe-murdered or something so I guess in the grand scheme of things it could be worse.” Junpei took a swig of his beer as Ennea landed a dart on Hongou’s hair.

  “You’re telling me,” Clover forced a chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. It landed flat.

  “Thanks for the concern though.”

  “Hey.” It came out more forceful than intended, but it worked-he turned to face her. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll find her. And in the meantime, you have us. That’s worth something, right?” She could feel tears starting to well up but she forced her face to remain determined.

  Junpei’s face softened. “Yeah. That’s worth a lot of somethings.” She felt his hand find hers along the bench and give her a reassuring squeeze. 

  The two of them spent the rest of the night watching the others play darts, with Junpei eventually drifting off to sleep. He had rested his head on her shoulder, and she was scared to move lest she disturb the peaceful look that had finally found its way to his face. At some point Seven found a blanket and laid it over their shoulders, and Clover began to drift off to sleep too, her heart happy being surrounded by the ones she loved and the Christmas spirit.

[empiredesimparte]

Napoléon V: You're not going to spend all our vacations revising, are you? Charlotte: Unlike some people, I'm not planning to repeat my year

Napoléon V: Joachim and I have it all planned: revise at the last minute, like all normal people Charlotte: A real duo of losers

Napoléon V (ignores, charms): We could rather… go for a picnic on a white sandy beach... then lie against each other and…

Charlotte: Louis, please, I'm trying to concentrate. Why don't you go for a swim for an hour or so, until I finish? Napoléon V: Come on, darling Charlotte: That's a categorical no

Napoléon V: Then I'll go and study too, I want to stay with you Charlotte: Really? Napoléon V: Of course, it's a honeymoon, love

Charlotte: Okay Napoléon V: What are you studying? Charlotte: Economics

Napoléon V: That's the one I understood best Charlotte: I doubt that, darling, you were more diligent in mathematics

Napoléon V: "Imperfect competition refers to a situation of competition in a market where one of the five conditions of pure and perfect competition is not respected" Charlotte: That's the lesson about companies that have a large monopoly, or oligopoly, in the same market Napoléon V: I should send my Uncle Henri to take the economics exam for me Charlotte: It's not that complicated, just look at the chart by the German economist Stackelberg

Napoléon V: I'm a Napoléon, I won't listen to a German! Charlotte (sighs): This is going to take a while Napoléon V: You're giving in?

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Honeymoon at Bora-Bora, 4 Messidor An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

Charlotte is studying for the next École Polytechnique exam, which the imperial couple will take later this summer. Napoléon V gently reproaches his wife for studying instead of spending time with him on their honeymoon.

⚜ Traduction française

Charlotte révise les prochains examens de l'Ecole Polytechnique, qui doivent avoir lieu exceptionnellement plus tard cet été pour le couple impérial. Napoléon V reproche gentiment à son épouse d'étudier au lieu de passer du temps avec lui pendant leur lune de miel.

Napoléon V : Tu ne vas tout de même pas passer toutes nos vacances à réviser ? Charlotte : Contrairement à d'autres, je ne compte pas redoubler mon année

Napoléon V : On a tout prévu avec Joachim : réviser à la dernière minute, comme tous les gens normaux Charlotte : Un vrai duo de loosers

Napoléon V (ignore, charmeur) : On pourrait plutôt... aller pique-niquer sur une plage de sable blanc... puis s'allonger l'un contre l'autre et...

Charlotte : Louis, s'il te plaît, j'essaie de me concentrer. Tu n'as qu'à aller nager une petite heure, le temps que je finisse Napoléon V : Allez chérie Charlotte : C'est un non catégorique

Napoléon V : Alors je vais réviser aussi, je veux rester auprès de toi Charlotte : Vraiment ? Napoléon V : Bien sûr, c'est une lune de miel mon amour

Charlotte : Ok Napoléon V : Que révises-tu ? Charlotte : Le cours d'économie

Napoléon V : C'est celui que j'ai le mieux compris Charlotte : J'en doute chéri, tu étais plus appliqué en mathématiques

Napoléon V : "La concurrence imparfaite désigne une situation de concurrence sur un marché où une des cinq conditions de la concurrence pure et parfaite n'est pas respectée" Charlotte : C'est la leçon sur les entreprises qui ont un grand monopole, ou oligopole, sur un même marché Napoléon V : Je devrais envoyer mon oncle Henri passer l'examen d'économie à ma place Charlotte : Ce n'est pas si compliqué, regarde le tableau de l'économiste allemand Stackelberg

Napoléon V : Je suis un Napoléon, je ne vais pas écouter un allemand! Charlotte (soupire) : Ca va être long Napoléon V : Tu capitules ?

[theperksofbeingstupid]

something i love noticing as a native spanish speaker is how cellbit learns spanish and the mistakes he makes,, like he says vamonos regardless of whether it should be vamos or vamonos bc we have both in spanish,, he messes up the conjugations for "vas" (and inadvertently gives himself a chilean accent by saying "vai" or "hai"),, he uses usted instead of tu because pt-br equivalent of using voce is the formal version so he translates that to spanish

[thewriterofmanythings]

Abiding at the Fields

The Field siblings hosting a Christmas celebration with some visitors. Written for ladylakebees on Tumblr for the 2023 ZE Secret Santa. Read also on A03 here.

“Clover, don’t you think that’s enough tinsel?”

Clover’s bright pink hair popped up from the box of Christmas decorations she had buried herself in.

“Ugh, you’re such a Scrooge, Light. Tinsel is the best Christmas decoration. I want this tree to sparkle and shimmer!”

“To the contrary,” Light said. “I’m sure that’s an admirable goal to have but I can’t help but wonder if you might have been more successful in that endeavor had you not started decorating the tree with only an hour to go before the party.”

Clover let out a huff before silently sticking her tongue out at her brother.

“Keep that up and a bird is going to make a nest on it,” Light said, not even bothering to turn his head in her direction.

“Don’t you have a quiche or something to check on?!?” Clover asked, brushing glitter off of her sweater.

“Indeed. I suppose I shall leave you too it.” Light carefully excused himself from the rocking chair he had been sitting in and made his way to the kitchen of the little townhouse the Field siblings shared.

Even having been around him for years, Clover was amazed at how self-sufficient her brother was. She regularly burned herself on pots and pans and had the scars to prove it, yet he was a perfect natural.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the large Christmas tree in front of her. It was her first time decorating for the holiday as their parents didn’t really celebrate, but she was determined to make it a good time for all involved. She and Light had gone to a specialty store a week ago and bought two large boxes of tinsel, ornaments, lights, and customized stockings. This resulted in the apartment looking as if Santa himself had barfed all over it, but it didn’t matter to Clover.

As she continued to place tinsel and ribbon around the tree, Clover got lost in thought making sure everything looked good-so much so that when a knock sounded at the door she nearly jumped a foot off the ground.

“I’ll get it!” she yelled to her brother who was still tinkering around in the kitchen. She raced to the door and took a peak through the peephole. On the other side was the strange woman she and her companions had picked up on the side of the road in Nevada. Instead of the Egyptian costume she had once worn, here she appeared to be in a cozy grey keyhole sweater and a black skirt.

Clover flung the door open. “Alice! You made it!”

The dark-haired woman let out a soft giggle. “Why of course, I couldn’t miss the party of the year now, could I?”

“Come in, come in!” Clover stepped to the side so Alice could enter. After closing the door behind her, she wrapped her in a big hug.

“I hope I’m not too early,” Alice said. She set down what looked like a wax-sealed wine bottle down then hung her purse on the hook next to the door.

“Not at all!” Light called from the kitchen.

Alice picked up the wine bottle and moved in his direction.

“Bonjour ma chérie! Comment vas-tu?” Light was particularly fond of Alice, not only because he felt she might be a good influence on his little sister but also because it gave him a chance to practice his French.

“Je vais bien, et vous?” she responded, pressing her cheek to his and making a kiss sound.

“Je vais très bien,” Light said, reciprocating the gesture.

“This is a lovely place you two have. Seems you’ve done quite well for yourself,” Alice commented, making her way to the living room.

“Anything’s better than being followed around by those lame bodyguards. Such a nuisance. Pretty sure that one bald guy was a pervert too,” Clover huffed.

“Well I’m glad things have worked out well for the both of you.” Alice smiled warmly. “Do you need any help with your tree?”

“Yes! Help me decorate Alice!” Clover jumped up and ran over to the open box on the floor. “Take these!” She thrust a small box of pink and blue ornaments towards her friend excitedly.

The two continued to work on the tree and chat while Light busied himself in the kitchen. After about 20 minutes, another knock sounded on the door, this one much deeper and heftier than when Alice had arrived.

“Clover?” Light called.

“Got it!” The girl yelled and ran for the door, nearly tripping over a string of ribbon spiraling down from the tree.

As Clover glanced through the peephole, she saw a small cluster of people-a tall, broad man, a shorter, younger man about Clover’s age, a middle aged woman and two girls also around Clover’s age that looked similar to each other and also the older woman.

“Hey guys! Merry Christmas!” Clover said as she threw the front door open.

“Clover!” One of the young girls squealed and threw her arms around Clover’s neck. Ennea had cut her hair into a short angled bob recently and was wearing a gray beanie, black leggings and a red and gray flannel, seemingly going for comfort over festivity.

“It’s so good to see you guys!” Clover said, moving on to the first girl’s twin and squeezing her tight. Nona had beautiful long black hair that was woven into an intricate braid with little red and green Christmas bells tied in to match her green silky dress and red sweater worn over the top of it, much more festive than her sister.

“My, Clover, life seems to be treating you well,” Lotus, or Hazuki as she was more commonly known, took her turn to give Clover a hug before stepping into the townhome. Hazuki was wearing a teal dress with a white coat and black strappy pumps. It wasn’t terribly cold outside but Clover couldn’t help but wonder if the lady was chilled at all.

“Even better now that you guys are here!”

Clover waved the big hulking man into the room. “Hey get in here ya big lug, you’re letting all the warm air out.”

Once it was free of his large orange blazer, Seven’s big hand landed on Clover’s head and tousled her hair, much to her chagrin. “Good to see ya too, brat.”

Finally all that was left outside was Junpei. He looked much more haggard than the last time Clover had seen him, with unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes. It had taken a lot to get him to agree to come to the party, but seeing the dead look in his eyes she was more grateful than ever that Seven had basically threatened to kidnap him if he didn’t come on his own.

“Hey Junpei.”

“Hey Clover.”

After a moment of hesitation, she pulled him into a hug. It was a careful, delicate embrace. She was afraid if she squeezed too hard he would break into pieces in her hands. The smell of alcohol on his warm breath told her that he was doing even worse than she had thought. But then again, she couldn’t blame him. She knew exactly what losing someone that mattered so much to you felt like, and frankly drinking away your sorrows was a lot tamer than what she could imagine herself doing if things went too far.

“I’m really glad you could make it,” she said softly, receiving a faint squeeze from his arm in response.

As she led Junpei back into the heart of the house, Light was setting down the enormous fruit platter Hazuki and her daughters had brought. Alice was talking to Ennea and Nona while Seven and Hazuki settled into the couch.

“Junpei! What a delight to have you in our presence this fine Christmas Eve.” Light grinned at the dark haired man who had just arrived. If there was anything the Field siblings shared, it was their fondness for Junpei.

“Hey Sn-Light,” Junpei said.

Light’s face broke out into a lopsided grin that anyone who didn’t know him might assume meant he was being a smartass. “Please feel free to call me what feels comfortable to you.”

“Thanks, man,” Junpei nodded at him. He then settled down onto a love seat, wrapping his black leather jacket closer around him.

“Perfect timing everyone! Now that we’re all here, our food is ready. Please come eat your fill and enjoy a variety of cocktails and other drinks,” Light proudly announced to rest of the room.

“Light, could you please change the music??” Clover pleaded with her brother as their guests began to fill their plates in the kitchen.

“Why would that be? Do you not find Tchaikovsky a perfect accompaniment for a Christmas party?” Light asked with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Classical music is so lame for any party. Besides, I think some more classic Christmas spirit vibes would help cheer Junpei up.”

“Ah, I suppose you might be right. Fine, I will play something more cheerful.” Light disappeared into the other room before coming back with a new CD, which he promptly switched out in the player.

As more mainstream Christmas carols began to play in the background, the guests began to settle back into their seats in the living room with full glasses and plates. While they ate, they each recounted where life had taken them in the months since the event that had brought them altogether. Hazuki had scored a great programming job that she was proud of, while Ennea had followed in her mother’s footsteps and was studying computer science in college. Nona announced that she was taking courses in criminal psychology, which perked Alice’s ears up.

The two of them continued a private conversation as Seven informed the rest of the group that he and Junpei had been investigating “some freaky cult” that had ties to Hongou, and therefore the Kurashikis. Seven seemed optimistic about their chances of not only crushing the potentially dangerous group but also finding the perpetrators of the second Nonary Game. Clover could tell though that Junpei was uncomfortable with this line of discussion, his knuckles turning white around the beer he was nursing.

Apparently Light could tell as well without Clover needing to nudge him, because as soon as Seven was finished talking he stepped right in.

“Speaking of Mr. Hongou, I took the liberty of planning an extra activity for the night. I thought it could bring some catharsis to our particular cast of characters. If you’ll follow me.” With that, Light stood up and began making his way to the back door.

“What did you do??” Clover whispered, following close behind him.

“Oh you will see,” Light dismissed her.

As the group made their way into the small backyard that came with the town home, Light made his way over to a strange contraption that was facing the back wall. It was a vertical wooden square supported by two planks, one on each side connecting to another horizontal piece of wood attached to wheels at the ground. Light pulled it away from the wall and turned it to face the guests before opening the top piece of wood to reveal a dart board underneath-except this board was covered by something. As Light stepped out of the way, darts in hand, Clover let out a giggle.

“Oh you didn’t.” Hazuki let out a shocked gasp but the look in her eyes was one of glee.

“How did you even get that?” Nona asked.

“It’s public record, just like all mug shots are,” Light smirked. Plastered on top of the dart board was the mug shot of Gentarou Hongou, taken just hours after the second Nonary Game participants made their way back to civilization and explained their story.

“Now who would like to go first?” Light asked, extending his hand with the darts to the crowd.

“Shit, don’t mind if I do,” Seven said. He grabbed a dart from Light’s hand, squinted his right eye, stuck out his tongue and let the dart fly. It was a decent throw but still only hit the edge of the paper.

“Nice shot,” Alice said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Hey lady, I’m just gettin’ warmed up. Think you could do better?”

Without a word, Alice exchanged her eggnog for a dart and pushed the mountain of a man out of the way as best as she could. Clover watched as she straightened her posture and adjusted her arm. No one let out a breath for a few silent seconds, then Alice let the dart fly. It hit Hongou square in his mouth.

“Lucky shot,” Seven muttered under his breath, walking away and downing the rest of his beer.

“Damn Alice, didn’t know you were a darts champion,” Hazuki said.

“What can I say, my line of work has some unexpected benefits. Never hurts to be a well-rounded person,” Alice smiled.

“Who wants to go next?” Light asked, pulling the darts from the board.

Ennea and Nona both began clamoring for the next dart, but Clover wasn’t paying them any mind. She took a glance at Junpei, who had cracked the first smile she had seen all evening.

“Hey,” Clover said, sidling up to him and taking the available seat on the concrete bench he had perched himself on.

“Hey,” he said, not really looking at her.

“Are you doing okay, Junpei?”

A sigh. “Is that a trick question?”

“You know what I mean, you jerk.”

“Well, I’m not trapped in a sinking boat, or being axe-murdered or something so I guess in the grand scheme of things it could be worse.” Junpei took a swig of his beer as Ennea landed a dart on Hongou’s hair.

“You’re telling me,” Clover forced a chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. It landed flat.

“Thanks for the concern though.”

“Hey.” It came out more forceful than intended, but it worked-he turned to face her. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll find her. And in the meantime, you have us. That’s worth something, right?” She could feel tears starting to well up but she forced her face to remain determined.

Junpei’s face softened. “Yeah. That’s worth a lot of somethings.” She felt his hand find hers along the bench and give her a reassuring squeeze.

The two of them spent the rest of the night watching the others play darts, with Junpei eventually drifting off to sleep. He had rested his head on her shoulder, and she was scared to move lest she disturb the peaceful look that had finally found its way to his face. At some point Seven found a blanket and laid it over their shoulders, and Clover began to drift off to sleep too, her heart happy being surrounded by the ones she loved and the Christmas spirit.

[ghostie-jakxy-gray]

Translating Amparo Dávila's "el huesped" into Vaakre: Part 1

first four paragraphs woo! I'm putting the Vaakre first, then the spanish it's translated from for comparison, then notes.

Vai, ank xakahcet alpe wektay par ue-al amer ne taelmek. Ne duae kehf ne atkone vai amer retuef-tarie. 

Egao-wek, ya aurs ne duae suadr arre wek-ponuc-vai, aurs neadr ayasai eee ne va ji-enfiretchne. Par ne duae ne taele eriead vikah tiore, alpe bihlce evtroe vai, xa kahcet dai xa ank tal ne. Egao-wek, ne taelmek vai nijke-ut vai - saúra e yamawa e vai va ahkahrer dai ánk, eee xa kehf xa gaos vai. Ne egao-wek taelmek ae xa dai libire*, e ae xa adurabayo tal aetrester par aeto.

(*so-so-do melody attached)

Dai nuc’yelum par linme, evtroe ue-al par wektay ane. Cikravpre dleram, fahriyn.  Hrap nuc eyrs sltiashr, vikah bayon ee xa hvetsl, evtroe vackuras nokbayo ya csilore - vikah vai e meire. 

Ne vitaele bilhce reasein fahriyn limuygul. Nishmuya egae-wek ue-al amer, palltei ne duae xa vai tal ue-al vai, par vikah puinoh. Dai xa ateirwe airmee; ne esah valiyhauh e pulihrk. “Retuef-al feinehr tauszo” ne duae dai, ci’prav nartatro eee evtroe nuc tal airmee. “Ta esah bilhce ya ne vai, ee ke kaena ta va erhas…” ank ne dai ne duae dai par ue-al xareactui. Ue-al vai ne taelmek.

~~~~

Nunca olvidaré el día en que vino a vivir con nosotros. Mi marido lo trajo al regreso de un Viaje.

Llevábamos entonces cerca de tres años de matrimonio, teníamos dos niños y yo no era feliz. Representaba para mi marido algo así como un mueble, que se acostumbra uno a ver en determinado sitio, pero que no causa la menor impresión. Vivíamos en un pueblo pequeño, incomunicado y distante de la ciudad. Un pueblo casi muerto o a punto de desaparecer.

No pude reprimir un grito de horror, cuando lo vi por primera vez. Era lúgubre, siniestro. Con grandes ojos amarillentos, casi redondos y sin parpadeo, que parecían penetrar a través de las cosas y de las personas.

Mi vida desdichada se convirtió en un infierno. La misma noche de su llegada supliqué a mi marido que no me condenara a la tortura de su compañía. No podía resistirlo; me inspiraba desconfianza y horror. “Es completamente inofensivo” —dijo mi marido mirándome con marcada indiferencia. “Te acostumbrarás a su compañía y, si no lo consigues…” No hubo manera de convencerlo de que se lo llevara. Se quedó en nuestra casa.

~~~

Translation choices:

First off I'm not starting the entire piece with a proper tonesetting, because if I wrote it out we would have a paragraph straight of "vai vai vai vedrai vai vedrai tihas" and nobody wants that. A single vai works in this case.

This is... primarily Balkour vaakre, for no other reason than I prefer writing it, and this is my stress relief translation. As such, ci'prav is used in place of cikravpre, and second-person-pronouns are geography-ized, and a few other things like that.

The guest is a "ue-al" second person for a couple reasons - first off being the... vague sort of communications disconnect between Northern and Eastern Balkour? They aren't fighting but there's a bit of historical separation, so a Northern storyteller might emphasize the distant ominous nature of the guest by using an overly-formal (double-emphasized) Eastern You. [the husband's use of "ta" clues us in that they're Northern Balkour]

duae for the husband instead of a more formal laume, one part because it's a more Balkour term, and one part because we're starting this story with a general... not-fully-hostility to the guy? Bear with me, okay I'm emphasizing the thematic difference between the husband and the stranger at the start by using the more endearing term for the husband at the start of the story, this will change.

Taelmek for the house as opposed to Virechek to emphasize that the house doesn't feel like the speaker's proprietary domain.

what else... the "libire" with so-so-do melody is reference to the Coupatre paier, so it's not saying the town is literally sickly but that it's just slowly fading into unpassable territory.

There's probably more but I can't think of it, so that's all for this installment!

(Obviously I am not doing the google translate "word for word translation" translation)

-Jakxy

[littlestarxmilkyway]

I think FFX/!! is a great game with a lot going for it. The OST is nice. The art direction and graphics are superb, and have held up wonderfully over time. The combat is amazing, the party AI is good and the zodiac added systems sell it all more. And then there's the story.

I understand why it's lauded for its story, but it also feels like it's given so much grace and credit when it sometimes doesn't deserve it. As much as I enjoy the cast generally, there's so much wasted potential that actually frustrates me.

Va/an and Pen/elo are basically children that are quickly and forcibly having to accept adulthood early while being so in over their head once they're out in the rest of the world, and they both represent that in such interesting ways. He in trying to escape and hold on to some whimsy and identity, and her in trying to be responsible and stay grounded, but also sacrificing so much. She especially is a very familiar story, even on a more simple level. (How many girls are always forced to grow up and take care of everyone around them, and sometimes, while watching those same people shirk responsibility and be given room to hold on to their youth a little more.) It's fine that the story doesn't actually want them to be the central protagonists, but I can't take the story as seriously and completely as a political story because it refuses to engage them deeper as characters.

Even Fr/an could have had a deeper story, and more connected to the world-building and lore. Instead she's relegated to the most convenient plot device, on top of varying the heaviest burden of fanservice. (And the annoying joke at her expense concerning her age, even if it was to make Va/an look bad.)

But then there's As/he. I think I can tell where she's written by Shoda, Miwa. And then there's the parts where her writing is simultaneously weak and annoying. At times it feels like she's growing with the rest of the party, and she understands where she sits in position to those around her. And then they snap their fingers and she's an annoyingly, entitled princess again. Which is frustrating because it feels like she never comes to terms with or acknowledges the struggle of her people, only herself! And I can't stand that they squander her like that, because she has a fairly unique role and backstory as a game character!

The worst part is how much emphasis characters like Ga/branth and Vay/ne are given. And I say this as someone who likes both, in different ways. The game spends too much time showing me the former's dilemma, and I can't take that seriously because as much as he too was a victim, he's also an oppressor of the state now. And my ultimate issue with the writing is how much it loves to focus on all the more privileged parties of the story, instead of the more oppressed and/or othered characters.

All this because I was thinking of how trash Ar/ise is about its themes, but I still think X/!! is an infinitely better, political story with more levity. (Some of its humor is equally poor though.)

[overcookedsushi]

First (and second) attempt at some Enemy Designs.

Admittedly... Zis took a vhile... So I took a stab at designing ze "first" vave of enemies you should see... Ze downridden Firekin. Unfortunate Waxkin who vere exhiled from ze golden city and have to live in self made towns... Generally peaceful, but zey are starting to fight back... As ze starting enemies, zey should be to hard to fight... zough I still vant zem to pose some kind of challenge... If ve can code ze enemies how ve are hoping, zen each vill have zeir basic moveset along viz environment specific actions and specials zat fill viz different criteria for each one... But I am getting ahead of myself a bit... here vas ze first pass at zem~

Rough ideas, but admittedly not to much "consistency"... From Left to Right ignoring ze PC: Cannon Fodder, Assassin, Brawler, Defensive, Suicide bomber, Weapon User, Ranged And here is ze second attempt... since vhat I vant to talk about next needs ze changes to be seen...

First, vhile is still not perfect, I feel ze visual consistency is SO much better! Zeir is still some zings I am not 100% sure on, but I am much more happy viz zis line up... I vanted zem to feel like a makeshift militia, but still ahve some cult vibes present vizout being heavy-handed... (Ze heavy handed cult fanatics come later~) Some major changes from ze two as vell. Ze suicide bomber vas changed to a more subdued support/buffing role... and ze veapon expert vas scrapped so zat vay all enemies can use veapons... Instead ve have our dedicated Jumpy Boi... Anti-air~ Also vhile it is still considered ranged, I might also try and make our ranged enemy a thief too... But zat is somezing ve vill see once ve get to actual gameplay coding... Zis is all still drawing board for now~ I could keep going on and on about ze zeoretical movesets and specials, but I am just trying to come up viz some designs for now so I have somezing to vork on vhile my partner learns unity coding... Hopefully I can have some more out soon... zen soon I can try my hand and some honest Animation~

[naoko-world]

Bruno's fangirl chapter 14's translation in progress

So I finished to write Bruno's fangirl chapter 14 in french! I started translating, now I'm going to bed but I'll have it ready before the weekend for both versions to be released. This will be the last chapter! Afterwards, it'll be extras I'll put in my series for Bruno's fangirl and its extras. I have some ideas for it!

Just now I also want to write another version of it, with basically a You reader instead of a She, and without the reader having a name. Because at some point my idea was in some way but then it evolved into what you currently know. But that another version would ask me to know spanish so I can have the characters from Encanto speaking spanish while the reader would speak english.

Donc j'ai terminé d'écrire le chapitre 14 de La fangirl de Bruno en français ! J'ai commencé à traduire, là je vais partir dormir mais j'aurais les deux versions prêtes à être publiées avant le weekend. Ce sera le dernier chapitre ! Après, ce sera seulement des bonus que je mettrais dans ma série La fangirl de Bruno et ses bonus. J'ai déjà des idées pour ça !

Sachez ici que je veux écrire une autre version de cette fic avec, basiquement, un-e lecteur-ice pour qui j'utiliserais tu/vous et qui n'aura pas de prénom cette fois. Parce qu'à un moment mon idée était d'une certaine façon avant d'évoluer en ce que vous savez déjà. Cependant cette nouvelle version va me demander de connaitre l'espagnol pour que je puisse avoir les personnages de Encanto parlant espagnol tandis que le/la lecteur-ice parlerait français. (Ou anglais, je sais pas si je traduirais cette fois.)

[son-fuori-di-me]

"I had no idea I could change someone's life."

One Shot. Word Count | Around 3300. Description | <French female pov> you're visiting Rome for the first time, and you casually meet Damiano David the day before the Circo Massimo concert. The conversation takes a unexpected path.

Content | Real talk. No romantic development. * Expect French idioms and italian approximations from automatic translators

---

"Bordel, c'est immense !" ("Holy cow, that's big !") I said, looking at the Circo Massimo.

It was my first time in Rome. Knowing Italy a bit, I expected a hell lot of sun, a delicious bunch of ice cream for each meal, and tons of pretty things to snap with my phone. Well, that was the plan for my first two days there. Cause Saturday would be a very different day. Saturday would be Måneskin day.

I've been waiting for so long to do this trip. And what a blast it has been for now. Took only a bag, my external battery, some makeup and my favourite clothes to finally discover this astonishing city. This was my first solo trip. I've always travelled with my family or my ex, but never on my own. For once, I could decide what I wanted to see, what I wanted to eat, when to take a break. And as there are plenty of things to see in Rome, i wanted to enjoy every second of my trip. I could focus my last day there solely to the Måneskin concert happening that Saturday night. But as I didn't want to leave anything to chance, I decided to precisely organize my last day, so I could visit a bit more - a get a last fantastic meal before the concert.

I got myself a gold pit ticket. I guessed that would mean I had a special queue. So on Friday night, as I was back from a late tour in town, I decided to watch more closely the Circo, to check for the entrances, and see how I could sharpen my organization and schedule for the next day.

"J'espère que je vais pas avoir à poireauter toute la journée, avec la chaleur qu'il va faire." ("I hope won't have to hang around here all day tomorrow, the weather's gonna be hot as hell")

It was almost 10 pm. I was getting closer to the Circo, trying to read the boards, but all was written in italian and didn't seem to concern the concert. And a year fangirling over Måneskin clearly wasn't enough to become fluent. I saw no sign mentioning "gold pit". So I decided I would ask around, with Google translate ready in my phone in case I couldn't find anyone speaking English.

I saw a guy sit on a bench, smoking. He was dressed in an ugly dark sweater, with the hood over a cap. He was either a drug dealer or a hobbo. My instinct as a girl living in Paris got the uphand and I decided to ignore the guy and try to find a woman instead, or maybe a group of locals, to get me the information I wanted. Unfortunately, after a good 20 minutes walking around and asking people, no one could tell me how to make sure I find the right queue for the concert. I was about to give up and head back to my airbnb and I saw a silhouette still sitting on a bench, near the Circo. It was the same guy from earlier. "Bon, je tente, s'il est trop chelou, je me barre." ("Well, might as well take the risk, if he's too much a weirdo, I clear off quickly.")

"Scusi, do you speak English ?" i said, getting closer to the guy, but still from a good distance in case it turned wrong.

"Pretty good. You need something ?" He was searching something in his pockets and reached his pack of cigarettes. His voice was deep, but gentle. He did look funny but didn't sound dangerous - i still didn't get too close as I hate the smell of smoke.

"Do you know well il Circo Massimo ? I'm going to a concert here tomorrow and I want to make sure I find the right queue, but they haven't installed any sign yet". I asked, showing the structure of the stage behind me.

"Cute accent, where are you from ?" he answered, completely ignoring my question.

"Well, I'm French. So, do you know il Circo ?" I preferred to quickly repeat my question to let him know I wasn't interested in whatever he was trying to.

"Ah, Bonjour ! I speak a little French !" He said, now reaching for his lighter.

"Yeeaaaah cool, but how about the Circo ? I'd like to be here early enough, but I don't know wh-" I froze as he lighted up his cigarette. It was brief, but with the spark, I saw his face for a second.

"Hm ? You don't know what ?" He asked, with a smirky voice.

"Mais naaaan ?" ("Dont tell me -") I let out that typical French astonished sound without thinking. "You gotta be kidding me !"

He laughed as I was getting a little closer, staring at him. With one hand, he was putting his lighter back in his pocket, with the other, he lifted a bit his cap. It was him. It was Damiano.

I felt my spine shiver with that uncomfortable sensation of being around someone famous. As a journalist, I had my lot of interviews, so I knew there's no point in changing behavior around such people. But I still was flabbergasted to see him.

"Sorry, I didn't recognize you. Well, gotta say you're not dressed in your best outfit !" I chose the strategy of sass, to hide how impressed I actually was.

"That's my favourite sweater you're seeing me in, and I'm smoking hot in it" He said with a smirk, getting into the sassy game.

"Time off before the big day ?" I asked, completely forgotting about my initial request and switching to my interview mindset when I'm super focused about the conversation. "Shouldn't you be having a great night of sleep, to recharge your batteries ?"

"I don't feel like going to bed" He said, having no idea how the conversation would soon turn. Fortunately for him, I wasn't working in the music media industry. "That's quite a stage we're gonna play on."

I didn't know why he was talking to me about all of this. I didn't dare to ask him either. I just enjoyed the moment.

"Well, the Eurovision song contest was bigger, wasn't it ?"

"Hm, don't tell me about it, I still don't know how I managed that."

He suddenly had a strange tone in his voice. It didn't sound like the radiant and confident Damiano you see on Instagram stories or on TV interviews. I remembered where I heard him like that. In the 2019 documentary "This is Måneskin", the making of Il Ballo Della Vita album, in the sequence he's arguing with Vic on a train, as he tells her how anxious he can be get sometimes.

"Well, you did, didn't you ?" I put on a more serious voice. "And you had a ton more of pressure, representing your whole country ? So how a concert here in your home town could be worst than performing in front of all of Europe - not to say the whole world ?"

He was still smoking, listening in silence.

"Or maybe it isn't about how big the performance is but about performing in itself ? Why are you performing ? Why are you putting on a show ? All those fancy clothes and that makeup, who is it for ? For people to love you ? Or for you to love yourself ?"

Mais qu'est-ce que je branle ? Il va se barrer dans deux secondes, là c'est sûr (What the fuck am I doing ? He's leaving any second now.) I got a bit too excited about being able to share a few words with him. What's gotten onto me ? Well, let's go then.

"What is it you're running after ? Or running from maybe ? Some complex to compensate ? With all that smudge and confidence, that wouldn't surprise me."

He sat back on the bench. As he inhaled a deep breath of smoke, I saw a smile on his face. But I also saw his hand holding the cigarette shaking.

"Are you a psychiatrist or something ?" He simply said, as if he was trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

I hesitated to tell him the truth. I was sure he would walk away the second he would know my actual job. Et puis merde, autant tout dire. (Well, fuck, might as well be honest.)

"Nope, I'm a journalist." I admited, as he looked right back at me with a surprised look. "Pretty much the same. We get appoitments with random people, listen to their life, observe their body language, and tell them our whole opinion about all of it, which might very well shape how they perceive themselves from now on."

"Only difference is that you don't have to keep anything secret. Right the contrary."

There. This was it. He was gonna leave now, for sure.

"Before you go, did I hit any truth ? Don't worry, I'm not in the music media industry, I won't write anything from our conversation." I hoped this information would save me a few more seconds with him.

He didn't answer right away. He didn't leave either. He kept looking at me, still smoking his second cigarette in a row now.

"Whatever it is you write about, I guess you must be good at it" he finally replied. "Cause you did score a few points."

Another short silence broke. As a fan, I was obsessed with his music, lyrics, and attitude. But catching a glimpse of what lied behind the glamour definitly caught my interest. I wanted to know more.

"Why are you here ?" I slightly deepened my voice, getting back to my interview tone, and kept on going with this as if that was usual business for me. "It's half past 10. You play on Rome's largest stage tomorrow. You surely better should be in bed, or be about to, before the big day."

In that moment, I had the upper-hand in the conversation. He was sat on the bench, I was on my feet in front of him, and therefore above him. Not the best approach to get someone's trust for an interview, but with a personnality like Damiano's, you gotta put your own show.

"I actually don't sleep much before big events like these" He finally answered, accepting his condition as an interviewee. "I don't sleep much at all."

"You're tend to insomnia ?"

"Not really, I just got used to 4-5 hours of sleep, that's it."

"Even during tours ? Cause this all sold-out European tour for Teatro d'Ira must have been exhausting".

"You have no idea, bellezza."

"So tell me." From there, I decided to change my strategy and sat on the ground, still in front of him, but giving him the upper-hand, to put on a more trustful atmosphere. "How are you doing ? And I don't mean, like casual 'yay, fine', I mean : how are you doing ?"

I still have no idea of my tactical move of giving him more space to express himself worked, or if he understood right away where I was leading him, but in the end, he still didn't seem bothered by this conversation we were having. In fact, it looked like he was enjoying it.

"I'm... content, I'd say." He paused, and I didn't interrupt him with another question this time. "I know I'm going through the life I wanted. The music, the tours, the praise. It's all I could have ever asked for."

D'accord, très bien, mais ? (Okey, very good, but ?) I stayed silent, but I couldn't help anticipating what he was saying.

"But surprisingly, sometimes it's still... unfulfilling. Like I can never be satisfied".

Repressing some Hamilton's lyrics from my mind, I innocently pretend I didn't fully understand what he meant - another journalistic technique, to get someone to repeat themselves with other words in order to get them deeper into their reflexion.

"What do you mean, "never be satisfied" ? You're on top of Spotify chart list, your albums are now platinum successes, you're winning awards. How is this not satisfying ?"

"It's just... What are all those things for ? Money ? Fame ? Yeah, I like those but..."

"Typical Capricorn" I muttered, to slide in the conversation that I actually knew pretty well my subject - my subject being him. He chuckled.

"Damn really ? Let me guess ? Aries ?"

"Pisces+Taurus, actually. So what, you don't like being famous ?" Getting back quickly into more questions - another technique to keep control over the rhythm of an interview.

"It's not that I dislike it. It's just... not always as fun as I thought it would be."

"What part of the job ? The writing and composing ?"

"No, that's the best part." He reached for a third cigarette. It was almost 11 pm now. "Vic, Thomas and Ethan. Måneskin. They're the best thing that ever happened to me".

"Then what, you feel like a fraud ?"

"Hell, no ! I'm exactly where I should be." He claimed, with a light pride tone.

"So, if you're proud of what you create, and if you love the people you create that with, then what is the matter ? If life is about getting the Bare Necessities, it seems like you got it all." Hitting with a universal - and musical - reference. Shoud do the trick.

"Hahaha ! Lo stretto indispensabile, si ! But life isn't that easy." He said laughing, as I felt he started to let go of the tension. "In real life, you get judged all the time, and people try to dismantle you, and spread rumors."

"I didn't think you'd be one to listen to people's comments about you".

"I'm not. I stopped giving credits to those. But it's still here, you know ?"

"From what I see, you're keeping it real, with lots of wisdom. I can't quite grasp what seem to bother you."

He paused, looking at his feet for a few seconds.

"I'm afraid it won't last." He finally confessed. "I'm afraid it all ends as quickly as it all started. I'm afraid people get bored. I'm afraid I become a caricature of myself. I'm afraid I can't write new songs. I'm afraid to be a shooting star, you see ? Very bright, but gone in a flash."

"Like, to be an Icare ? Or may I say "Ykaaar" like on your Instagram ?"

He chuckled again.

"Huh, I'm that obvious ?"

"Yeah, even a bit over-the-top, if I may dare say so."

"Well, I've always related so much with this mythological figure. I mean what's wrong with aiming for the Sun ?" He said, pointing a hand to the dark sky above us. From his attitude, I could tell he was way more relaxed than in the beginning. He even took his cap and hood off, so I could now see his face more clearly. His eyes were glittering. "Burning your wings... What's that morale supposed to teach us ? Be modest ? Be moderate ? Che noia !" (How boring !)

"Well don't be !" I felt almost like scolding him. "There's nothing wrong with seeking big dreams. As there's nothing wrong with this feeling of being outrun by your life. Savour the moment. Every second of it. It's because you can't know how long it may last that it tastes so good, so thrilling ! And you actually already are ten steps ahead ! Writing songs like ´Torna a casa' or ´Coraline' at, what, 19-20 years old ? You're the real deal, dude. And even if later on, you get blank page anxiety or write just good-enough songs, it's okey. You got plenty of time to make mistakes. Take the leap of faith. Failing and being a failure aren't the same. You learn, you grow from it. It's okey to doubt yourself, but please, don't ever doubt all the love and support you get."

I paused, hoping I didn't do too far and missed my point. But in a way, I could also feel I got it right. He was looking at the Circo, his eyes even more sparkling than before.

"I..." He got up, standing on the bench, looking as tall as a statue from my perspective. He came down and took a few steps. I got on my feet, starting to feel concerned about what I just said.

"I didn't know I needed to hear that." He finally confided. "I always wanna reach perfection. I'm aware I can be authoritative, sometimes even harsh, on the band. I can't accept to be a failure. But love and support, that, I can't get enough of."

I didn't respond. There was nothing to add. This instant felt like an hour. The wind was slightly blowing through the length of the Circo in front of us. His hair reflected the gentle light of the moon, only showing her first quarter. He broke the tranquility of the moment, turning and taking a few steps in my direction.

"Grazie mille" he said, his arms opened, calling for a hug.

"But, you're very welcome" I said approaching him, softly putting my arms on his back as he put his over my shoulders. The second before his face disappeared from my vision, i noticed a tear on his cheek.

"You've completed reset my mind. I feel like I can start all over again. I was anguished, trapped by my anxiety. But it's all gone now. You've changed me. Thank you, thank you so much" He affirmed full of hope, his voice shivering.

"Wow, well. I had no idea I could change someone's life." I answered, trying to hide how moved I myself was from the conversation.

------

It was almost midnight now. We kept talking for a while, comparing life in Rome and Paris, exchanging what was our best concert experiences. But he still needed to get back home to rest before the concert, and I didn't want to arrive too late at my airbnb - even if I could have spent the whole night talking with him. Yet, to enjoy our last few minutes together, he offered to walk me back to where I was staying. It was just a 15 minutes walk, along the Tevere river bank.

"So tell me." he asked with a smirk. "How does the Bare Necessities go in French ?" He started to muffle the melody.

"Oh no, you don't expect me to actually sing it ?"

"Hehe, you got me into a therapy session, so I can get a little song from you, no ?"

"Damn, you. This is blackmail !" But drunk on the moment, I took a deep breath.

"Il en faut peeeeeeu pour être heureux, ("Look for the baaaaare necessities,") vraiment très peu pour être heureux, ("the simple bare necessities") il faut se satisfaire du nécessaire !" ("Forget about your worries and your strife")"

I started dancing along, if I had to be ridiculous, might as well utterly be. But he actually followed my lead, clicking his fingers.

"In fondo, baaaasta il minimo, ("I mean the baaaaare necessities") sapessi quanto è facile ("Old Mother Nature's recipes") Trovar quel po' che occorre per campar ! ("That brings the bare necessities of life !")

We kept on singing Disney songs for a few minutes as we walked at a slow pace - I was shocked he never saw Tarzan and immediately made him promise to watch it as i told him Phil Collins recorded all the songs in five languages, including Italian. When we finally reached my destination, we exchanged a last timid hug as farewell.

"Well, I'll see you on stage tomorrow." I told him as I crossed the street.

"And I'll look for you in the crowd !" He shouted with the brightest smile on his perfect face.

** the end **

[antigonick]

Coucou Pauline !!

J’suis une étudiante qui va emménager en France pour étudier llce anglais ! Alors c’est un peu avant le temps, mais j’ai un question- est-ce que c’est possible de faire le master meef et master en traduction au même temps ? C’est une curiosité surtout.

Autre chose, un peu plus importante mais je sais qu’est possible que tu sais pas, c’est juste que je connais pas bcp des françaises. Bah j’ai tdah et toc et j’utilise pas une trait ment alors j’ai des problèmes avec le management du temps quelquefois. J’ai lu que les professeurs en France n’aiment pas les étudiantes américains parce qu’ils veulent trop d’aide alors je veux pas les dire car je veux pas être « that person » (particulièrement comme je suis étudiante internationale et j’sais pas si je vais avoir des problèmes avec la langue). C’est vrai ?? J’suis très nerveuse mdr

J’suis désolée pour te déranger !! J’espère que tu vas bien et je te souhaite une très bonne semaine <3

Bonjour! Alright, just switching to English to be super clear and in case someone else can use the info—but, first things first, CONGRATS, and welcome in advance! I hope you'll love studying here.

Re: doing two masters at the same time, to my knowledge it's not possible? Time-wise, classes take up to ~15 to 20hours a week, and more in private schools—basically, you can't juggle both. You can specialise a bit within your master's, though, by choosing the right options and trying to focus on a specific topic when undertaking long-term projects (like your dissertation). So, for example, doing the MEEF master programme but with a secondary focus on translation-flavoured classes will prepare you for teaching, with a translation-bent that you'll be able to showcase when job-hunting. You can also do two masters back to back, but that's a 4-years endeavour instead of 2.

Re: ADHD and OCD, and... what you read about French teachers not liking foreign students, I—OKAY. Obviously I don't know every teacher out there but augh, of course teachers won't hate you or judge you! They're here to teach you, their role is to listen to you and modulate their teaching in accordance to the learning preferences and strengths of their class. Whether you're American doesn't change that, especially in foreign-languages-focused programmes like those you're targeting—on the contrary, it's very exciting to have melting-pot classes. Also, on the language front, in LLCE a good chunk of your classes should be taught in English even in first year, and they're used to having English-speakers, so, again—you won't get slammed on your French. Which is REALLY good already, incidentally.

It's important that you communicate with them about your ADHD and OCD—your university should have what they call a "Disability Desk" (Pôle Handicap) where you can explain your needs. Shoot them an e-mail or go and see them during the first week; they'll give you the run-down, explain to you what programmes, softwares and schedules are implemented and which ones you feel would work best for you. Then you register with them, you get a little paper slip, you give that paper slip to your teachers at the end of the first class, and you're good to go! Every year I have a lot of students who get additional time during exams, for example, or can ask to take the exam through specific computer or voice-operated softwares, rather than in the classroom / by hand. Totally normal, so don't worry about that, and don't feel like you'll bother anyone.

Good luck! Have fun! You're going to do great ♡

[peanut-in-the-goal]

Would love to read the longer insecure Leo fic day if you feel like finishing it. If not it’s totally cool no pressure or anything. 🙂 I love your writing and all the o’knutzy feels!

hhhh so I wrote this so long ago tbh I don’t think I’m going to finish it

If someone actually wants me to finish it just send in an ask and I’ll try to but as of right now this is about as good as it’s going to get okay? (it could just be the fact that it’s 2am and I don’t wanna hurt leo rn lol) This is just like a v long wip that serves no real purpose. as also characters belong to @lumosinlove 

---

Leo woke up to a cold bed. He sat up, yawning. Blearily he looked around, raising his hands to attempt to rub some of the sleep from his eyes. He leaned over, grabbing his phone from the nightstand, checking for any unread messages from either Logan or Finn. The time read 8:12, far too early for Logan to be awake. Finn, maybe. 

He glanced up, hearing the distinct sound of the toilet flushing before a very tired Logan stumbled out. He laughed, his voice rough with sleep, as Logan came back, falling onto the bed. His hair splayed across his pillow, and his eyes looked up to meet Leo’s.

He raised his arm, grabbing onto Leo’s sleeve, trying to tug him back to bed, lightly. Leo went willingly, curling himself around Logan, who had his head buried in Leo’s chest.

“Mph, stay,” Logan muttered, his eyes already slipping closed, content on sleeping their day away. Leo smiled, placing a soft kiss on the top of Logan’s head. 

“D’accord.” He whispered, they’d find Finn later. It wasn’t unusual for him to go for a run in the morning anyways. Leo laid there, toying with Logan’s hair as he felt him relax completely, soft snores coming from the boy.

He smiled as Logan shifted again, subconsciously pushing himself further into Leo. 

The next time Leo woke up, it was to the front door closing. Logan whined in his sleep, shifting slightly, when the noise woke him. He kept his eyes closed, shuffling closer to Leo and pushing his head further into his pillow. Leo shushes him quietly, waiting for him to go back to sleep. After a moment, he heard Logan’s breath even out again and he sighed in relief. 

He felt someone watching them, looking up, he saw Finn standing in the doorway with a soft smile playing at his lips. Leo beckoned him over, silently telling him to come back to the bed, with a small nod with his head. Finn smiled but shook his head.

 “I’m all sweaty,” he whispered. Which was true, it was evident he had just come back from his morning run. “I’m going to go shower.” He spoke softly, mostly not to wake Logan, and removed his airpods. 

Leo nodded, glancing at the clock, 8:56 am, before burying his face back into Logan’s hair. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Once again, he lets the sleep take over, relaxing them as they waste their day away.

It’s not long before he feels the bed dip behind him, and Finn’s warm body and wet hair lay along his back. His smile lingered on his lips, turning to kiss Finn softly, before finally letting the sleep take over, knowing his two boys were safe, there with him.

Nothing. Honestly, nothing happened. He was fine, the day had gone perfect. He didn’t have practice and got to spend the day sleeping with his boys. He was happy, he was so so happy. 

But why was that familiar dread settling in his chest? Why did he feel like it was wrong, everything he was doing was wrong with that nagging feeling telling him he wasn’t good enough? He shifted, which made Logan stir and look up at him with his wide green eyes blinking up blearily at him.

Leo tried to shush him and get him to go back to sleep, but Logan had seen his sad face, and before he knew it Logan was sitting up, looking at him concerned. 

“Peanut? Vas tu bien?” he asks, searching Leo’s face for something that tells him what’s wrong. Leo opened and closed his mouth, before taking a shaky breath.

“Je vais bien, C’est bon.” He hates the way his voice wavered at the end, cracking slightly. Logan’s eyes softened, taking Leo’s face into his hands.

“Knutty,” he mumbled. He placed a soft kiss to his forehead, then his nose, then both his cheeks before finally landing one on his lips. Leo tried to smile, he really did, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. 

Logan stretched out his arms, letting Leo lean into him as he hugged him close.

This time a small smile actually did ghost Leo’s lips. Logan and Finn always knew how to help him, even if they didn’t use words to communicate. He doesn’t know how long they sat there, with Logan holding him as he tried to ignore the voices in his head nagging at him. Telling him he wasn’t good enough, that he didn’t deserve their love. 

He isn’t even sure when the tears started slipping down his cheeks, but they must have because he felt Logan hugging him tighter. Leo goes to apologize, for being such a mess and for crying. But he can’t even get the words out before he feels a warm weight fall against his back and a pair of strong arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“Mph,” Finn mutters, his voice groggy and rough with sleep as he buries his face in Leo’s neck. Leo sniffs, trying to stop his tears before Finn notices. But Finn hears with his head being so close to Leo’s and his head snaps up. He takes in the tear stains on his cheeks and the damp spot on Logan’s shirt.

And it happens so quickly, where Finn has climbed off his back and is sitting in front of him, raking his finger through Leo’s hair.

“Baby?” He asks, not exactly knowing what's going on, but was definitely not expecting to wake up to Leo crying. “What’s wrong, what happened? Are you okay, are you hurt? Did we do something? Are you...” He trailed off, watching Leo shake his head frantically instead of answering his questions.

Finn quietens down, letting Leo get his thoughts into words, to explain what's wrong so Finn can hold him, and take care of him, because he loves him so, so much and it kills him a little more when Leo starts to slip. He’s right there, he's right there, but he seems so far away. It feels like Leo is slipping through his fingers, and Finn is so scared that one day he won’t be able to grasp on and pull him back in.

That he’ll lose the funny and smart man, that he’ll let the depression take over. He’s scared he’ll stop fighting it and he’ll drift. He’ll drift and become a shell, and he can’t count how many times he’s fallen asleep crying into Logan's arms because he doesn’t want to lose him.

He can’t lose him. 

And he barely hears the muttered apology escape from Leo’s lips, and he would have if he weren’t so hyper-aware of everything Leo was doing. Waiting for the hitched breath that showed he couldn’t hold it back anymore, and Finn could pull him into his arms until he cried himself back to sleep, and Logan went to make some tea and order take out.

Because everyone knows that they can’t cook, and they don’t need to add to Leo’s stress by making him help clean it up. He just needs them by his side, ready to help him, to show him the love that brought him together.

And Finn hates that Leo feels this way, that he isn’t good enough. He hates that Leo tries to push them away, that he thinks he’s a burden and a nuisance. They’ve learned the best way to help him over the past few months have caught up to him. 

The recent news of his father's sickness, with playoffs right around the corner. Loops pulling Kasey from the next couple of games for the pulled hamstring. It was too much, it proved too much when it started pushing Leo.

They could see it happening, Leo waking up earlier to hit the gym before practice, staying late after to add in some more training. The need that he had to feel good enough, to feel like he had to prove something because of his age. That broke both Logans and Finn's heart watching him work and work and work. Draining himself, when he couldn’t see how good he really was.

Leo was fidgeting with the duvet on the bed, pulling at the loose, frayed string on the end. He sniffed, once, then twice, before the dam broke. He angrily tried to wipe away at the tears rolling down his cheeks, biting his lip to try and clench the sobs that were bubbling up. But he couldn’t, he was fighting a losing battle and was giving in. 

They acted on instinct, Finn catching Leo as he fell into his chest, the heart wrenching sobs ripping themselves from his throat. Finn embraced him, holding him tightly, never going to be ready to let go. Logan moved to his side, rubbing his back, placing a kiss to his temple and his cheek every few minutes. 

“Désolé, Je suis désolé, I’m sorry,” Leo sobbed. 

He hates being like this, feeling useless, so utterly vulnerable. The way he was falling apart, with too many thoughts rushing through his head. His heart was beating erratically, his breaths uneven and shallow. He grasped onto Finn’s shirt, knuckles turning white as his hands shook with the material in between his fingers. His lips trembled, the oxygen seemingly impossible to get to his lungs.

Finn hugged tighter, whispering in his ear.

“Baby, don’t apologize. Never apologize for this. I just want to be there for you, we both do. Let us be there for you. Knutty, baby, we’d cross oceans for you.” 

Logan nodded in agreement, delivering another kiss into his blonde curls. Leo let it sink it, not exactly believing it, but hoping that maybe, it could be true. 

He fell asleep there, the tears track drying on his cheeks.

That last thing he heard was Logans whispered, “I love you,” before he let the darkness take over.

Leo could feel his breath picking up, the inward panic settling in his chest. He wasn’t sure why this affected him so much. He huffed, wiping at his eyes angrily where he could feel the tears forming. 

“Baby?” He heard the door creak open, Finn’s voice calling over all the voices in his head. He wasn’t sure why it was hitting him so hard right now. He knew he had depression, he had it since he was young. He would scoff at himself when he let it win, feeling utterly useless, and wanting to do better.

He felt like nothing he did was enough. Not enough for him, or his parents, or for Finn and Logan. 

The bed dipped beside him, feeling Finn’s warm hand cupping his cheeks, and turning his face towards him. Finn made a confused noise, whipping at the tears rolling down Leo’s cheeks.

He hadn’t even realized they fell. He just felt so numb.

“I brought you some food,” he said softly, like if he said it any louder it would’ve broken him. And quite honestly, it probably would have. Days like this, it made him feel horrible when Finn and Logan had to bring him food, or water, or do anything for him that he should be able to do himself. 

He gave Finn a wavering smile in return, which slipped off his face as quickly as it appeared. Gosh, why did he feel like such a fuck up? He took the plate from Finn, placing it in front of him on the bed. 

Finn and Logan knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything rich right now. Even then, the toast on the plate seemed absolutely revolting right now, just the thought of food made him nauseous.

[talk-to-the-mercs]

I *think* that might be spy

Miss Pauling: Why would you - Medic? What’s wrong?

Engineer: What’s the matter, doc? Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost!

Medic: Zhat is vhere I have seen zhe boy. I have a file on every mercenary here, including photos of zheir youth for reference and security. Here, I have zhe files on my phone, I will bring it up.

Miss Pauling: Oh. My. God. They’re identical! The hair, the face, everything! Even the clothes are the same!

Scout: Wait, wait, so that kid...

Sniper: Bloody ‘ell.

Engineer: But how is that possible?! People don’t just devolve!

Medic: [sucks air between his teeth]

Miss Pauling: Medic...what did you do?!

Medic: [laughs nervously] Funny story...I-

Miss Pauling: You turned him into a CHILD?! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!

Medic: No, Fraülein, you misunderstand! I didn’t do anyzhing zhis time! Or, at least, not on purpose.

Engineer: It’s okay, Medic. Just us everything ya know.

Medic: Vun night, I had just finished reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. In a rush of creative energy, I tried to recreate zhe elixir zhat Dr. Jekyll created. However, I ran into an issue. Vhen I injected zhem into lab mice, instead of having a split identity, zhey became two separate mice. Vun, vhen tested, vas faster at zhe maze, responded obediently to commands, and vas very affectionate. Zhe ozer refused to do zhe maze, had an aggressive disposition, and vas...let’s just say...overly affectionate vis zhe females. Zhe first mouse vas clean, vhite, and a clean bill of health. Zhe second vas almost brown vis grime, hacking, and had a limp.

Miss Pauling: So one was good, and one was bad?

Medic: Interestingly enough, no! Zhe vhite vun did not respond to pain, vas overly passive vhen it came to mating, and did not recognize vhen it vas in danger. In fact, it vas eventually killed by vun of my doves because it did not zhink to run! Zhe brown vun, however, dominated zhe heirarchy, had many mates, applied itself vis vigor, and showed exceptional intelligence in practicality puzzles!

Demo: What’s yer point, doc?

Medic: My point is that Spy most likely injected or ingested zhe elixir himself, probably in some sort of half-baked, drunken suicide attempt. Now he has split, and ve have zhe first half.

Scout: So which part is the kid?

Medic: I have a hunch zhat-

[A door opens and closes]

Heavy: Medic! MEDIC!

???: [laughing] J'étais un avion! Whoosh!

[Translation: I was an airplane! Whoosh!]

Heavy: I drop child! Child’s arm broken! But no cry!

Scout: Oh...oh my god, it’s bent all sideways! I think I’m gonna throw up...

Medic: Boy, come here!

???: Oui! [running feet]

Medic: Zhis arm is not broken! It’s almost snapped in half! Zhe only vay he could have managed zhis is if he didn’t flinch at all!

Miss Pauling: Do you think?

Medic: It’s almost certain. Zhis is our vhite mouse.

[END OF TRANSMISSION]

[maxiskindahere]

Don’t touch me - Anne

in which Anne Boleyn has a nightmare that leaves her flinching away whenever anyone dares to even try touch her

~

TW!! Ab*se, nightmares, mentions of blood

angst october day 12!!

ok so like, wbk Anne’s father and Henrat sucked dick

so i decided ‘Thomas was 100% abusive towards his kids’ because he 100% fucking was

though it was probably mostly verbal, it’s angst october day 12 and i’m in the mode to cry.. so :)

here’s anne boleyn being abused for being a woman in the 1500s because tudor womanhood, would recommend

~

“you had one job, Anne!” Her father yelled at her anger clear in his voice. Anne had just given birth to a daughter, Elizabeth, and to say Thomas Boleyn was pissed off is an understatement.

“Father, I cannot control the gender of my child!” Anne said in a shout as tears fall down her cheeks, but before she knew it, her father raised his hands and hit her, Anne froze as her father grabs her by the face roughly, “Next one better be a son, or else.” He threatened before throwing her head backwards and storming out of the room, leaving the girl to sit in her tears

~

Anne felt her anger get the best of her “Just shut up! I wouldn’t be such a bitch if you could get it up!” Anne yelled at Henry, he had been accusing her of adultery, treason and worst of all, insest. Henry let out a growl before pinning the girl against the wall, his hands wrapped around her neck “Off with your head, Boleyn.” He sneers at the girl, Anne froze as tears form in her eyes

what was she meant to do?

Anne wakes up with a scream as her hands wrap tightly around her throat, desperately trying to breathe as she began to claw at her skin, not caring if it began to bleed, the other Queens quickly rush in, Katherine tries to place a hand on Anne’s shoulder but before she could, Anne let out another scream “Ne me touche pas!” She screams out, Katherine nervously glances at the other Queens before trying again

“Annie... I know you said not to touch you, but you’re bleeding..” The pink haired girl says softly but Anne doesn’t budge, instead she replies with “Je veux Elizabeth..” (I want Elizabeth) in a quiet voice as she slowly takes her hands away from her neck, blood streaming from the scar “Anne, can you let Lina take a look at your neck?” Jane asks softly kneeling infront of the girl, Anne shakes her head “Je vais bien, laisse-moi tranquille” (i’m fine leave me alone) She mumbles, still not switching back to English

“Anne, can you talk in English, babes?” Anna asks softly, the girl shakes her head in response “Ça me fait mal, je ne veux plus être blessé!” Anne yells, suddenly going bavk into her panic (that’s what gets me hurt, I don’t want to be hurt again)

“Jane can you translate?” Lina asks, still trying to fathom what’s upsetting the girl “She doesn’t wanna be hurt again.” Jane whispers in sadness as Anne tries to calm herself down again, “Can you ask her what’s wrong? My french is rusty.” Cathy asks the blonde who nods, but Katherine was the one to speak up

“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” Katherine asks softly, Anne takes a breath, “Mon père... Henri... cauchemar...” (my father, Henry, nightmare) Is all Anne says in response but Katherine immediately understands “she had a nightmare about her father and Henry.” Jane explains to the group that looks confused

“Puis-je vous embrasser?” (can I give you a hug?) Katherine asks softly but Anne shakes her head swiftly, “non, non.. Ne me touche pas” Anne begs the girl who nods softly (no no don’t touch me) “Annie, are you alright to go back to sleep?” Cathy hesitatantly questions, Anne takes a breath “Oui” She mumbles as the other queens take notice of her - now no longer bleeding - neck “Can Jane fix up your neck?” Lina asks, softly smiling at the girl who shakes her head

“Demain.” Anne says quietly (tomorrow) the other Queens nod and decide to leave her be for the time being, there’s always tomorrow.

~

Anne woke up with a groan, she was now regretting not letting Jane fix up her neck, but hey, at least she got some sleep.

Anne threw on some new clothes and slowly walks down stairs, Katherine was the first to notice her, immediately running to hug her cousin put pausing when she notices Anne flinch, a frown replacing the smile on her face as she sits back down

“Je suis désolé..” (i’m sorry) Anne mumbles as she sits beside Katherine, who just gives her a sad smile “How are you feeling Anne?” Anna asks softly, which was unusual for the girl, she usually took as many jabs at Anne - obviously playfully - but today was different.

“Tired.” Anne confesses with a soft laugh, Linas eyes widen “English? Thank god, I was worried that I’d have to learn French to talk to you.” She teases as Anne forces a laugh “French is a beautiful language, right, mon amour?” Katherine asks Anna who nods, the fourth Queen knew hardly any French, but she could admit it was a nice language

“Lina is just jealous because 3 and a half people speak French and only one and a half speak Spanish.” Jane teases her girlfriend playfully “who’s the half?” Cathy asks in confusion “You” Anne answers, her voice unusually quiet “You feeling up for the show, Annie?” Katherine asks softly, wanting nothing more than to hug her cousin tightly “Unless I slip into French than i’m fine, don’t worry.” Anne tries to reassure but for once? Cathy wasn’t having any of it “You’re not fine!” She exclaims causing the Queens to snap their heads at her

“You’re not fine, Anne, last night you woke up and badly scratched up your neck, wouldn’t let us help you, slipped into friend and you continuously flinch whenever anyone - even Kitty - would try hug you” Cathy says softly, “what’s wrong?” Cathy asks after a beat of silenced

“Father wasn’t to happy with me, he would have a short tempter and usually I was on the recieving end.” Anne starts off as the Queens, “Henry of course wasnt all that loving.” Anne mutters to herself with a forced laugh “Father would get violent, as would Henry, but it was always my fault.” Anne admits staring down at her food

“Is that why you won’t let us touch you?” Cathy asks her friend softly, Anne nods hesitation clear in her movements “I never... Thomas was like that?” Jane asks in shock as she tries to wrap her head around two of her cousins being emotionally abused (and physically) “He was so... mad when Lizzie was born.. he hit me mere hours after it, Henry was worse, he wasn’t physically at that time, it was all mental, until a few days before my trial.” Anne explains her voice cracking when she says her daughters name

“He went mental, he would scream and shout at me for sleeping around - which I wasn’t - but it was so judgemental, he called me a witch.. so I told him if he could get it up, I wouldn’t be a bitch, and.. then he slammed me against the wall from the throat, honestly hurt more than the actual beheading.” Anne admits with a shakiness in her voice before turning to her cousin and placing a shaky hand on the girls shoulder

“Je voulais être une meilleure fille, donner à ma famille ce qu'elle voulait, mais je ne voulais jamais. Et tu sais quoi? Parfois, je suis content d'avoir été décapité, because at least I got to meet you girls.” (I wanted to be a better daughter, to give my family what they wanted but it was never want I wanted. And you know what? sometimes i’m glad I was beheaded-)

~

i’m actually rlly proud of this 🥺🥺

[ask-2p-hetaliaaa]

((can I have a Lutz x Esther thingy. Just a small fluff one. I haven't been feeling the best lately- and he's my comfort character. I also project a lot on Esther. :'] ))

I'm a bit rusty when it comes to writing fanfictions, so I've written some headcanons instead! I hope this helps you feel better!:

❥ - Lutz thinks it's adorable when Esther speaks German to him

❥ - Esther teasing Lutz by calling him his last name, he says "Vell if jou like my last name so much, vhy don't jou just go ahead and take it?"

❥ - When they go on a date, Lutz picks them up at their house, wearing a suit and holding flowers. When he sees them, his jaw drops and he says "I vas going to go for a suave pickup line, but I'm vay too flustered-" as he scratches the side of his neck.

❥ - Lutz makes playlists of songs that remind him of Esther. (Bonus: Rennrad by Dota Kehr and Jungen Mädchen by Hund am Strand are included in it)

❥ - Lutz loves leaving marks on Esther's neck and chest 😳

❥ - He also loves being the big spoon while cuddling, and will kiss Esther's temple to soothe them to sleep.

❥ - Esther will sometimes notice Lutz lovingly gazing at them. "You're staring at me-"

❥ - Tickle fights!!! Lutz always ends up winning, and loves seeing the state it leaves Esther in.

❥ - Although he normally looks like he has bedhead, Lutz's actual bedhead is so much more messy. When Esther wakes up first, they'll play with his hair and try to fix it a bit.

❥ - When Lutz is at world meetings, away from Esther, he literally won't shut up about how much he loves them.

Lutz: "OH, did I mention that-"

Roland (being a single soyboy): OH MEIN GOTT STOP TALKING ☹

❥ - Lutz deals with really bad nightmares, and will sometimes wake up in a cold sweat. Esther will stroke his hair and kiss his cheeks to calm him down.

❥ - Lutz thinks of himself as Esther's hero ❤️

❥ - They both have matching necklaces!!

❥ - I lowkey headcanon Esther as kinda clumsy, so when Lutz and them are talking walks around Berlin, Lutz will catch them from falling or walking in the wrong direction.