#they think be sounds like that bc he’s french but no he’s just full of snot

[jeanmrow]

if he does LA TOTALLY kicks his ass, when i was there for 4 days a couple weeks ago it wiped me out for an entire week and a half after the fact

random silly headcanon where jean moreau has spring allergies that’s it that’s the post

[clownniac]

SDV Bachelor/Bachelorette Surname Headcanons

i find it silly that we only really know the surname of like,, 3-4 characters total so i went ahead and assigned everyone their own, because it makes life easier - this is just the bachelors and bachelorettes for now but maybe i'll make another post with everyone else's

minor spoilers for alex's backstory and sam's full name under the cut :)

Bachelors:

Alex Mullner - this one is practically canon bc his grandparents are the Mullner's, but i like to think that whether or not his parents were married he refused to keep his dads surname

Elliot Arthur - i dont have much explanation for this beyond it just Feeling Right, something old and (generally) english

Harvey Lieberman - i saw someone headcanon harvey as jewish, and lieberman means "dear/beloved" so this was another one that just Felt Right

Sam O'Neil - picking a surname for sam was kinda tricky tbh bc it had to flow nicely with samson And the rest of his family's names, but O'Neil means warrior which suits kent and it sounds nice

Sebastian Kang - couple headcanons in this reasoning: his bio dad is half korean And seb is a natural ginger, so Kang bc it means "ginger" in korean

Shane Miller - shane has always just been a purple haired alcoholic version of nick miller to me tbh

Bachelorettes:

Abigail Duval - duval is french for "from the valley" which ties in pierres whole frenchness And the game itself

Emily Murphy - this was another case of finding a name that flowed nicely for multiple characters (Haley)

Haley Murphy - same as above ^^

Leah Reilly - reilly means courageous which i feel she is for taking the risk of being an artist (speaking as an artist shh), and it sounds nice

Maru Taylor - this was mostly because it is Hard to find a surname that flows nicely with the name demetrius

Penny Adams - this will make little to no sense to anyone else but adams has always felt like a ginger name to me, and it works well enough with pam

[quintessenceofdust88]

Okay, tumblr milestone prompt, here it comes: As I'm in need of fluff myself, what about a day in the life of married couple BuckTommy domestic fluff? If that makes any sense? I just love the idea of them married, calling each other happy, and being in love.

Ohhh I love this prompt! There's sth about fluffiness in marriage that really gets to me.

Anyway hope you enjoy it, darling! It's not exactly a full day bc I got carried away hehe, but it's very very fluffy anyway.

And HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY AGAIN I hope you're having a great one!! (and that it's still your birthday in your timezone cause I really wanted to get this done by your birthday)❤️❤️

--

Tommy's face is the first thing Buck sees when he opens his eyes in the morning and, as cliché as stupid it sounds, that brings a smile to his face. He tried to wait up for Tommy to get back from his shift last night, but fell asleep with his cellphone in hand, reading an article about octopuses (they took Jee to the aquarium on the weekend and it had an effect on him).

When Buck wakes up, it's to find his cellphone plugged in and neatly stacked on his nightstand, and he feels a warm rush of affection for his attentive husband. He takes advantage of his sleeping state to take a good look at his relaxed face. There's nothing about it Buck doesn't love, from his dark eyebrows to his angular nose to the sweet curve of his mouth. There are little rays of sun escaping through the curtains and falling on Tommy's frame, making his few grays shine beautifully. 

Before he gives into the temptation of running a hand through Tommy's hair and wake him up, Buck gets out of bed and goes downstairs, set on making breakfast for himself and his overworked husband.

He tries to be as silent as possible as he moves around their spacious kitchen (it was the one thing he had been set on when they were house hunting; Tommy's was a spacious garage, and eventually they'd found the perfect place for a very fair price once Tommy's old house entered the deal), turning on the coffee maker, sorting ingredients for breakfast and realizing they're out of cinnamon. Knowing full well that Tommy will whine about his french toast if there's no cinnamon, Buck opts for pancakes instead.

Buck prepares the batter while humming to himself, thinking about what dessert he can take to their family dinner at Maddie and Chim’s later that day. Just as he starts pouring batter into the frying pan, he feels strong arms around his waist, and he doesn’t even pretend to startle; it’s not the first morning he’s greeted like this. Buck leans back against Tommy’s strong chest, and Tommy nuzzles against his neck. 

“Morning, sweetheart�� He whispers sleepily against Buck’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine as he presses small kisses on his skin. 

“You’re gonna make me burn breakfast” He teases, and is met with a huffed laughter against his shoulder. 

“So we eat out” Tommy answers, his arms still gripping Buck’s waist, and it takes all of his strength (and the reminder they’ll probably have sex right after breakfast anyway) to playfully tap the spatula against Tommy’s hands so he’ll let go. 

“Behave, mr. Kinard” He scolds, and Tommy places a loud kiss on his cheek (and a slap on his ass) before letting go, grabbing plates and mugs on his way to the table. 

“I always behave, mr. Kinard” Tommy says, wiggling his eyebrows, and Buck doesn’t think he’ll ever get completely used to the thrill he gets to be called ‘mr. Kinard’. Tommy knows it, the bastard, and his smirk makes it pretty clear. “It’s not my fault you look particularly hot in my T-shirt”

Buck looks down at himself, realizing Tommy’s right. He barely notices anymore which clothes are his and which are Tommy’s, especially when it comes to LAFD gear, but the Bon Jovi faded black T-shirt is definitely not his. 

“Well, I look even better with no T-shirt on, if you wanna see what that’s like” He flirts teasingly, and tries for a casual one-handed flip on the pancake he’s frying right now. Except it doesn’t go that well, and the pancake lands directly on the stove instead of the pan. “Oh, shit!” 

He rushes to fix it and throws the ruined pancake out before it gets even worse. When he looks at Tommy, he finds his husband barely containing his laughter, which makes Buck point a firm finger at him with a glare.

“Shut up” He says, and Tommy raises his hands in mock defense.

“I didn’t say anything!” 

“Keep it that way” Buck threatens, and Tommy mockingly zips his mouth as he takes their mugs to the coffee maker and prepares both of their coffees (and there’s something in the way he does it that makes it even better than when Buck prepares his own).

Once the pancakes are ready (no more flipping incidents, Buck finished it pretty conservatively), Buck brings them to the table, where Tommy has already placed syrup and some butter. They sit down one in front of the other and share a smile before digging in, in comfortable silence. 

“This is so good, babe” Tommy tells him between mouthfuls, and Buck hums appreciatively. “You spoil me, you know? I never have breakfast this good at the station”

“I like spoiling you” Buck says earnestly, and Tommy blushes, a small smile appearing on his face. Sometimes it’s still hard for him to accept hard things, but Buck keeps reassuring him; it’s a work in progress. “I was gonna make your French toast, but we’re out of cinnamon, and you always say…”

“French toast is no good without cinnamon” Tommy finishes, and Buck swears there’s a beginning of a pout on his face; maybe there’s some truth about married couples picking up habits from each other. “Did you add it to the list? We’re going grocery shopping later, right?”

“Yup” Buck agrees, taking a sip of his coffee (damn perfect, as always). “And tonight we’re on for dinner at Maddie’s, don’t forget”

“So, groceries and family dinner” Tommy recaps. “Any other plans for the day?”

“Not really. Thought we could just… spend it together?” Buck suggests. 

Sometimes they’ll spend their days off with Eddie (and Chris if he doesn’t have cooler teenage stuff to do and deems them worthy of his presence), or Jee and little Kevin, and it’s great fun. But there’s also something pretty special about just basking in each other’s company all day, be it running errands or cleaning the house or having sex or just staying on the couch, Buck on his phone and Tommy with a book. 

“Sounds perfect to me” Tommy answers gleefully, and he takes Buck’s hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. “Any day with you is perfect”

And gosh, that’s sappy. But damn if it doesn’t make Buck smile like a lovesick idiot. Because his husband is a complete sap and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[egophiliac]

like 70% of my knowledge about twst is because I read all the comics about it you do bc they're hilarious, but can I confirm that Rook's character arc was basically just an 'Applejack -> Rarity hypeman (malicious)' pipeline??????

yep, Rook joined NRC as a full-on Rowdy Boy who wore the same ripped-up jeans and sweatshirt 24/7 and was 99% split ends, until one day Vil convinced him to dress up a bit for a concert and he was like, "oh. hmm. actually, I like this." and swung fully into the other extreme of Fanciest Lad. Rook just...does not do middle grounds.

(tangential, but my personal 100% crack actively-contradicts-canon-but-I-don't-care headcanon is that French doesn't exist at all in Twst. Rook personally just made up a collection of fancy-sounding words that, by complete coincidence, happen to sound exactly like earth-prime French.

"but in the City of Flowers --" no, look, his family is VERY rich and VERY weird, it is not out of character that they paid an entire city of people to throw out a few words of their kid's conlang whenever he visits. it makes SENSE --

this is mostly because I think it would be funny if, after Rook gives someone their special little nickname, he has to sit down and explain to them what it means. which I've actually just decided he does anyway, so never mind.)

[f1-stuff]

Girl dad Carlos please! I miss that fic so much 🥲

Okay. So.

I mustered up the energy to write a little vignette of this AU bc I also miss it and bc I didn't want to leave you two hanging! This is skipping ahead quite a bit to halfway through the season, but I'm still planning on writing and fleshing out that portion. I've just known for a while that this was gonna be an important part of the story and that I could jump into writing it right away!

It will probably be edited and adjusted for when the actual chapter is posted on ao3, but this is the 'rough draft' I guess! (Disclaimer: I know zero French and I haven’t had someone look over that bit yet!)

Anyway, enjoyyyy...

When there’s a knock on his door about two weeks into the summer break, his brain doesn’t compute for a full minute after he’s opened it.

Because why would Charles, his teammate, be here? In Spain? At his apartment? During their summer holiday, when they’re supposed to be ignoring any and all people and things related to F1, recharging their batteries, and remembering there’s more to life than racing cars? He and Charles have barely ever even texted during the summer break, let alone seen one another. So, again, why would Charles be at his front door.

Also, he’s a bit sleep deprived and delirious, so there’s every chance he’s hallucinating this.

“Uh...�� he says, rather eloquently.

“Hey,” Charles says. And there’s a tentative smile on his face that Carlos can’t even begin to parse the meaning of. His brain isn’t just one step behind, it’s five steps. “Can...I come in?”

“Oh.” Again. Eloquent, Sainz. “Eh- yeah. Yes. Come in.”

“Sorry to stop by without a warning,” Charles is saying. But Carlos is too busy looking around in barely disguised panic at the absolute trash heap that is his home.

It’s not that he didn’t realize how much of a mess the apartment was before, but he sees it now through Charles’ eyes and feels a little like curling up and dying. There are bowls of half eaten food and dirty dishes piled in and around the sink. Various toys, games, books, and drawings are strewn over almost every surface, along with clothes (mostly socks, so many socks) littering the floor. Boxes and boxes of Lucy’s things that he hasn’t had time to sort through are stacked against the walls and in the corners. One of the only exposed walls by the couch has colorful marker all over it, Ana having done that particular masterpiece when he’d accidentally nodded off during Peppa Pig. (He’d been too tired to even properly get angry about it, which was perhaps a bad precedent to set if he didn’t want a repeat performance.)

It looks like a tornado has swept through his apartment. A tornado named Ana.

Not that Charles is much neater on a good day, and he doesn’t even have a kid as an excuse. But Carlos has a feeling that if this is the current state of his apartment, the state of his own appearance is probably no better. He hasn’t properly showered, shaved, or slept in days, and he doesn’t think he’s looked in the mirror in all that time either. For all he knows, he’s still got remnants of the braids Ana put in his hair yesterday. He certainly can’t remember taking them out...

Charles, on the other hand, looks fresh and groomed and sunkissed - everything Carlos would expect during the summer break.

He smells good, he thinks, unbidden. Then, immediately, Stop it.

Charles takes in the space around them, his eyes eventually settling on Carlos with an amused (and maybe slightly concerned) expression. But just as he’s opening his mouth to speak, there’s the sound of the bathroom door opening down the hall and the smattering of tiny feet running across the floor, before Ana declares in her tiny, yet surprisingly bold voice, “I didn’t have a diarrhea!”

Carlos doesn’t even have enough shame left to be embarrassed by his kid. His first instinct is just relief.

“Stomach virus,” he mumbles to Charles, by way of explanation. Then, to Ana, in Spanish, “That’s great, mi niña! Did you wash your hands?”

“Yeeeees!”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Good, because we, eh- we have a guest!”

It’s quiet for a moment, before Ana’s head pokes around the corner slowly. But her face lights up as soon as she sees who it is.

“Cha!” she shouts, but then immediately looks embarrassed by her own show of excitement.

“Coucou, Ana,” Charles says, amused. He kneels down and encourages Ana closer, accepting the tentative hug she gives him.

No matter how much they had bonded last time, it’s still been a while since they’ve seen one another, and some of Ana’s shyness has clearly returned. Still, it’s huge that she’s even initiated a hug, and Carlos feels a telltale twinge in his sternum at the image they both make.

“As-tu été bon pour papa?” Charles asks, cuffing her gently on the chin. Ana grins and nods. “J'ai un cadeau pour toi.”

Charles reaches into a bag that Carlos hadn’t even noticed he’d been carrying until he’d set it down to hug Ana, and he pulls out a pink rectangular thing, that Carlos squints in confusion at for a beat. He realizes what it is simultaneously with Charles’ next words.

“C'est une caméra. Pour que tu prennes des photos de ton papa.”

It’s a pink camera for kids, a unicorn adorning the front where the lens peeks out. Carlos almost rolls his eyes - of course Charles, with his recent photography kick, gifts his kid a camera. But the way Ana’s expression transforms with wonder as Charles demonstrates to her how it works is pretty precious.

Charles hands it over to her and she immediately points it at him. He pulls a silly expression, making her giggle. They both examine the photo, heads bowed close. Ana points it up at Carlos next.

“¡Sonríe, papá!”

He sticks out his tongue and her little finger presses the capture button. The joy on her face as the photo pops up on the screen, tilting it to show them even though it’s upside down, fills Carlos with so much warmth and love that he legitimately almost tears up.

God, he’s so freaking tired.

Ana bounds off to her room to gather her stuffed toys to take a ‘family picture,’ and Charles straightens back up, smile lingering on his cheeks even after Ana has disappeared down the hall.

Carlos wants to kiss him so bad. Becoming a father has turned him into such a sap.

“Ehm,” he clears his throat. “Thank you. That was- a nice gift.”

“No problems.”

“You know, you don’t have to buy her something every time you see her,” he says, humor lacing his words.

“I want to,” Charles insists, simply. They smile awkwardly for an extended beat, listening to the sounds of Ana down the hall in her room, talking to her animals. Charles’ eyes stray to his hair. “You have...something in your hair. Is that a braid-?”

“What are you doing here, Charles?” he asks, choosing to ignore the comment. “I thought you would be in Corsica, or somewhere.”

“I was. But I heard you and Ana had to cancel on the trip to Mallorca and-”

“Heard, how?” Charles looks sheepish, triggering his suspicion. So he repeats it. “Heard, how, Charles?”

“Your mum texted me-” 

He sighs, eyes shutting briefly in frustration. He wishes his mom would just stay out of this whole- thing with Charles. But, clearly, she knew he wouldn’t accept help from anyone else. And that he wouldn’t be able to turn Charles away…

“She didn’t tell me to come,” Charles rushes to say. “She was just worried because you refused to let her stay and help, and that you hadn’t found a sitter, or someone, yet. So I just offered-”

“Charles, please...” He breaks off with another sigh, rubbing his temples to stave off the oncoming headache. But it’s already too late, if the subtle pulsating pain, slowly increasing in intensity, is anything to go by. “You should not have come.”

“Carlos, don’t be stupid,” he scoffs. “Anyway, I am here.” And he supposes that’s true. Nothing can be done about it now. “You look tired.”

He huffs a small laugh, dropping his hands from his temples to meet Charles’ gaze.

“This is what someone looks like when their kid catches a stomach virus and then they catch that same virus from their kid, just when their kid is starting to feel better-”

“Why didn’t you let your mum help-?”

“I’m her dad,” he interrupts, breathing hard. But he softens his voice with his next words. “I can do this on my own. I just wanted to...”

He doesn’t really know how to finish that sentence, though. It sounds stubborn and stupid when he starts to say it out loud. None of this should be about him. It’s about Ana. And if he’d really needed help, he should’ve asked for it. For her.

Charles seems to know that he doesn’t have to say it - that Carlos is already thinking it. So, instead, he just claps a hand to his shoulder and squeezes.

“I think,” he says, “-you should get some rest.”

“Charles-”

“No, I’m serious. Go to your room, Mister Sainz.” A slow grin pulls over his features. And along with the genuine concern in his eyes, it’s almost enough to break through Carlos’ resolve. “You are exhausted. Ana will be fine - I will watch her. Just...rest for a minute. Okay? You don’t look like yourself.”

And he knows that must be true. He knows that he needs a lot more than just a few hours of sleep to feel somewhere close to normal again (a shower would be a good start). But it’s hard to even think of himself when he’s been so worried about Ana for days - researching how to get her fever to die down, trying to get her to drink fluids, watching her fitful face in sleep, his heart in his throat despite how the pediatrician had assured him she’d be fine.

But, then, he’d gotten sick, too. And instead of focusing on his own recovery, he’d had to fit in sessions of retching over the toilet in between caring for his kid and making sure she was properly fed. And the two of them had managed, even if it wasn’t ideal. They’d grown closer, he thought, by virtue of her needing him so much.

He couldn’t keep it together forever, though. Eventually, if he didn’t take a break, he’d fall apart completely.

It takes him a stubborn moment, the urge to argue bubbling up inside despite how glorious resting his head on a pillow sounds. But eventually he nods, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thank you.”

Charles just looks at him with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “You are welcome, Carlos. Now, go. You look like you are going to fall over at any moment.”

“I feel like I’m going to fall over at any moment.”

Charles laughs under his breath, pushing Carlos’ shoulder gently to aim him toward the hallway. “Well, fall over into bed, then.”

“I’m going,” he insists, letting his tired limbs and the heavy touch of Charles at his shoulder guide him toward his room.

He can deal with how insane this situation is - Charles showing up here, and what the hell it means that he’d come at all - once he’s had some sleep. For now, he’ll happily take it for granted.

He doesn’t even really remember climbing into bed before the exhaustion takes over, his body surrendering to fatigue now that he knows his kid’s in good hands. Trustworthy hands. Charles’ hands.

He thinks he can hear the faint sounds of their French floating down the hallway. It makes him smile with the last vestiges of energy he has left.

God, he is in so over his head.

----

WIP ask game

Link to fic on ao3 -> (x)

[raapija]

Strollonso headcanons that haunt me:

They got together in 2018, Lance had just turned 20 and Fernando was 37.

Lance was the first person to settle Fernando down as he was previously known as a bit of a playboy.

They had to keep the relationship secret as both of them would be accused of corporate espionage. (especially not a good look on Fernando... remembering spygate) The rules were changed later in 2021 when Fernando signed with Alpine.

During Fernando's time off from F1, they came out and it was a bit of a scandalous affair. The media tried to drag Lance but Fernando went on a full-on campaign to support him so they moved on from it in a few weeks.

Fernando buys little gifts for him all the time and Lance pretends to be annoyed but actually loves it.

They mostly talk in English, but occasionally slip into French which sounds like complete nonsense to everyone else because of their accents. But they understand each other perfectly fine.

They got married in 2023 during the summer break. It was a small wedding with just family and some close friends. Lance's parents wanted a Jewish wedding, Fernando's family a Christian wedding. They ended up with a civil officiate to stop them from fighting.

They have two dogs; a shiba inu named Nyla and a golden retriever named Rósa. They treat them like their own kids and they often travel with them to the races.

Lance will tell you that they're polar opposites in their personality; he is quiet and more reserved, Nando is a chatterbox and slightly insane. Fernando thinks it's the other way around (delusion).

They would want to have a family but both of them are too stubborn to retire and become a home dad, so, it's on hold.

When Lance is around, Fernando is banned from practicing any kind of magic tricks as it makes Lance feel dumb for not figuring them out and Nando refuses to tell him how they work.

They have an ongoing bet on which one of them turns gray first. It's currently almost tied and Lance is worrying he's going to lose. (<- suspects Nando of cheating and dying his hair)

They mainly stay in Canada at Lance's or Switzerland at Fernando's house, but spend at least the minimum time in Monaco for taxes 💅 Also Spain. And thinking about Japan, bc Nando is obsessed with the country.

Every formal function they're invited to, Lance has to be dragged in like a cat refusing to go in a bathtub.

They've done Daytona 24h together, with Lando as their 3rd team mate.

Lance has a bad habit of forgetting jewellery everywhere and losing rings all the time which is why Fernando peppers him with pretty things. It also causes Fernando to wear both their wedding rings to keep Lance's safe. Lance would never forgive himself if he lost it.

Every time Fernando comes back from the karting school, he recites the whole day back to Lance and updates him on all the kids' progress. When they have small competitions, Lance helps as a race director.

Lance has a lot of hockey jerseys and Fernando wears them all the time. Lance is prohibited from touching Fernando's football shirts.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/24/2024

you might be wondering “is my dear friend tumblr user girlfriendsofthegalaxy still unemployed?” the answer is yes. take this cat off my hands please i don’t think he’s causing the unemployment but he certainly isn’t helping

listening

via Wendy @dying-suffering-french-stalkers, Huoy Meas' ប្រគល់ក្ដីស្នេហ៍មកខ្ញុំវិញ. figuring out what this incredibly zippy Cambodian rock song is named and what it's about was really difficult bc spotify is a bane upon this earth and won't let you fucking copy-paste and OCR was not working on the Khmer script. i ended up listening to the first couple seconds of each of her songs on apple music, and finally figured out this roughly translates to Give Me Back My Love and is about begging a fuckboy for closure.

via the spotify discover weekly, Night Club's Pretty Girls Do Ugly Things. all Night Club's songs sound the same so if you like one, great news! i had this song on for a full gregorian hour bc, i am only a tiny bit ashamed to say, i was storyboarding a The Man With No Name fancam to this. i think it would go pretty hard.

Smoke you like a cigarette Choke you like a lariat Fatalistic tourniquet Do you want more?

-

reading

thank you mackintosh.

i did not Adore any of these comics from the library. i sort of enjoyed Night of the Ghoul, a one-volume TPB by Scott Snyder and Francesco Francavilla. i think ive blogged about this before but every once in a while i'll get a bee in my bonnet to read some horror comics even though i am a giant baby about horror movies.

Night of the Ghoul is about how you can't save your dad from PTSD but also about a lost horror film and also about the extremely dad behavior of tracking down every scrap of info about an auteur. there's also a monster.

the subtle art changes from present day to the remains of the film to the non-film flashbacks are well done, imo. the cover screams mignola but the inside pages are really fun pulp nonsense. i love a piece of genre writing that rolls around and delights in being a piece of genre writing.

im doing my level best not to get sucked into tiktok but i DO love watching this lady revive antique nail polish and look for dupes for shades from like the 20s. she found an almost exact dupe for a shade produced during wwii which is crazy insane to me!!!

-

watching

The Asphalt Jungle (1950, dir. Huston), it's a very painterly heist noir. i even like Sterling Hayden in one of the more prominent roles, even though i think he generally has the appeal of undercooked dough.

much like Fritz Lang's M, it presents the criminal element of the city as its own class with its own reputation and reference systems. it got in some trouble with the censors for having a VERY clearly laid out heist plan and execution. it's also got the babiest Marilyn Monroe in one of her earliest roles

this was such a gloriously messy movie. everyone is such a fucking mess. this woman only known as Doll is heartbreakingly, head over heels in love with Sterling Hayden's character. she's a little flighty and bumbling and silly, but determined! they're constantly orbiting the gravitational weight of her desire for this man and desire for a real life with this man. and that's just one subplot! she has maybe five minutes total screentime! she should have gotten a supporting actress oscar!!! everyone acted their fucking hearts out and it was so much fun to watch!

-

playing

monument valley is in the netflix games library this month (i don't actually know what their liscencing agreements would even look like, they and the studios they worked with were very tightlipped about that when they were rolling this out three years ago) but i assume it's going to be on the service for a while. i have never played this game, which makes me feel a little bit like a bad gamer. you can tell it's ten years old from some of the color and texture choices, but WOW did literally everyone take inspiration from this game.

this is the platonic ideal of a phone game. i get why everyone went insane about it and there was a brief boom of geometry-based puzzle mobile games. it is MUCH much harder now to get people to pay money to play a game that has a planned endpoint and planned number of levels, so netflix is a good home for it.

i was often frustrated but always delighted. the level below involves making something happening that made me genuinely gasp out loud in glee. well worth the annoyance of downloading the netflix app and scrolling through the poorly labeled and poorly sorted carousel of games.

great retrospective, a bit about how you need to have tiny teams go off and just kind of fuck around and bring weird stuff back, and a lot about how they actually designed the levels

The end result had a pixel-perfect axonometric aesthetic that not only went hard on its references to Dutch master artist and printmaker Maurits Cornelis Escher, but also dug deep into classic video game design, going right back to early arcade machines and 8-bit titles. Each of the ten levels is like a piece of fine furniture, built with invisible dovetail joints and inlaid with marquetry, stuffed with secret compartments and little design flourishes. Gray cites the world of theatre and stage design, as well as graphics, as important keystones in the way the levels were constructed. ‘Ken would always talk about flower arranging, and how you frame a silhouette of a level on the screen,’ he says.

-

making

update on the Phantom Menace fabric: pinked the raw edges and threw it in the laundry again with a very large quantity of vinegar. 50% poly was too high for it to really do anything, which is interesting. it didn’t lessen the seam edge effects either, which is a little annoying bc the seams were so gigantic and that’s a good chunk of fabric to lose. i am going to buy a camp shirt pattern at some point when i have money again but for now it goes in The Box

also! thrifted a pack of o-rings for jars for a dollar and finally put my grains etc in my pretty jars. they’re going to live in the pantry but today they live out on the countertop

[funtheysaid]

IWTV 2x02 Initial Thoughts (Stream Of Consciousness)

- ooh the title card changed! I’ve been wanting to see the Eiffel Tower as a “fang” since season two was announced. WE IN PARIS BABY!

- ayooo three-way (interview) incoming

- Daniel’s “Paris sucks” aka “Paris is where my ex-bf is from and he sucks (dick), but not mine anymore, and no, I’m not bitter abt that, his city just fucking stinks (literally)”

- not two minutes in and Devil’s Minion is already flirting bickering

- ALICE MENTION alice!armand truthers are gon love that shit i just know

- “I’ll tell you what a woman is” That’s my sapphic-coded queen!!! 🕯️ pls S2 give me claudeleine 🕯️

- “Gauche” well, yes.

- Loumand: 🥰🥰 Daniel: 🙄 he‘s so second-hand embarrassed for them I can’t

- I mean, it’s crazy. What? We finish each other’s- I WAS WITH HIM FOR LONGER THAN LESTAT WAS WITH HIM WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN DANIEL PUT IT ON RECORD WEVE BEEN FUCKING FOR LIKE DOUBLE THE TIME …that’s what i…was….gonna say?

- Louis would be that faux-intellectual hipster who has his own darkroom full of overexposed and blurry, unfocused photos that are his “art” bc he took them on film (affectionate)

- Not claudia calling him out on it in the next scene “let me think I’m deeper than I am” okay honey you do you

- “She’s miserable but she doesn’t want to fuck with your too delusional left bank dilettante vibes” ahh the narrative foils are foiling, I see

- The show: Alice was pregnant, My dumb ass: OMEGAVERSE DEVILS MINION !?!?

- “joyfully joyless” MOOD.

- Claudia looking at Madeleine like “I don’t know if I want to be her or be with her” Dw babe it’s a rite of passage for all of us you’ll figure it out

- “Your French is ugly” 🥹👉👈 weally?

- “the dress for my body” LOOK I know what she meant, but I can’t help it that my mind is perverted

- LMFAO NOT GLORYHOLE PARK

- okay why Loumand playing with my heart “I will never harm you. And I never have” wtf wtf wtf

-Oh no the ole business card trick! we all know that’s Louis’ kryptonite he loves a man with credentials

- i like girls, but why is santiago kinda…

- Woah the Annika scene was really hard to watch which I think was the point but goddamn idk if I’ll be able to rewatch that part

- Estelle is my self-insert. I’m claiming her.

- “You both fucked Lestat!?!” HOW DID THEY KNOW WE WANTED HIM TO SAY THAT!?

- “He tasted of vermouth and annihilation” We both know you have no earthly idea what that man tastes like, Armand. Be so fucking fr right now.

- Did Armand just casually drop that he had a threesome with a father and son? I’m sorry, sir????

- “Now I know what two blood fat cocks slapping hands feel like” When I tell you my spirit left my body

- oh shit here we go. I’m a caged animal and it’s time for my weekly enrichment. give me my loustat.

- there’s a letter !?!? Wait wait I wasn’t ready for something like this wait stop stop please

- “all my love belongs to you. you are its keeper” just take me out back and shoot me at this point

- “it is a thin veil” fucking fuck why was that so romantic??

- the blood tears welling up in Lestat’s eyes I’m-

- “Rebound of my life” and in that moment, he spoke for the people

- WHAT IS HAPPENING???? Jesus Christ, they were talking about Alice and then it cuts to FUCKING ARMAND!?! This is not a drill. Everyone to your stations, this is not a drill.

- “You sold your Dad’s playboy magazines at recess” Hmmm? You’re telling me a “straight” teenage boy sold porno mags instead of keeping them for himself??? Yeah, I call gay on that one

- “she wanted to say yes” you motherfuckers.

- Oh shit Louis is pissy tonight rawr kitty got claws

- Devils minion girlies are thriving, skin glowing, hair silky, breath minty, pillow cold, stomach full, dreams sweet, and by Jove, we fucking deserve it !!!!

- daniel’s shaky “um- gulp” …….guys this is gonna sound crazy but i think there might actually be a god

- ooh the camera/photography being like a divide or barrier between Louis and his present situation. Like he wants to capture the moments, but only as if an onlooker and not a participant… interesting!

- “Who?” will never not be funny

- “Mon ami” in the same episode as “Mon Cher” FUCK ME GENTLY WITH A CHAINSAW

- “Armand for you” nah nah nah i changed my mind, you can do like Leatherface and shove that chainsaw in rough and hard

- Close up on Louis’ conflicted face, fire blazing behind him…. That’s not foreboding in any way. I’m sure they’ll all live happily ever after from now on :D

What a ride! Until next week! 🧛‍♂️🩸

[1-49]

TOURIST GUIDE: The top 7 things you don’t want to be doing when in Paris.

Imagine,

the brightest, most perfect winter’s day imaginable. Crisp, chilly, and beautiful. Warm cafés, busy streets, and gentle breezes ──── stellar architecture, metros, and museums. If anything, Paris is the most magical place on earth, but having Sungchan there makes it even more so.

That being said,

here is a list of the Top 8 things and situations to look out for, & don’t indulge in when you are in Paris if you don’t want to fall in love. A doomed guide for both tourists and locals, eh.

tags: fluff, love, sure it carries its angst though ⁝ fun concept to approach given i wasn’t going to write a fic nor it fits exactly into headcanon, so yeah. he has made me dizzy with his paris photos im sooo sorry. wc. 3k

Fan fact: The French term ‘Coup de foudre’ describes when someone feels completely blown away by someone they have recently met. In literal terms, it means lightning strike. If you have been ‘struck by lightning’ in this way, a common feeling is that you can tell the person everything bc they just get you

Good luck!

THE CRASH

A stunning stranger seated a short distance away from you in a small cafe is always a threat—but this is not just any stunning stranger. As you converse with your friend, he’s also conversing with his group of friends. Passing phones and a camera make their giggles sound like a good time. 

Every chance you get, you glance at him while speaking with your friend because it’s so tempting to do so. Little sparks shoot out the moment the stare is returned; when your gazes meet halfway; when he’s caught, too, for naively trying to get your attention.

When your friend catches on to the fact that you’re looking at what is behind her rather than her.

When she turns around to reinvestigate the situation and notices that he’s staring in your direction, she instantly understands.

When she gives him a smile and turns back to face you, who moved too slowly to stop her.

The stranger which then believes that you both had a conversation about him.

The friend who first exposed you is also the one who is now pushing you to use the restroom; for if he meets you halfway again, chances are good he’s into you too.

Her point is validated when you find yourself in a small hallway, pretending to scroll through your phone, as he moves toward you.

Scents of rich vanilla, chocolate, coffee, and wine fill the dimly lit secluded part of the café, which has burgundy walls. His physique is too large to fit in the narrow hallway. His eyes and smile translate love. His confession is full of tenderness, affection, & promising good times.

THE ‘NO’ PLAN

It’s already outside of your plan to plan the remainder of your day. Order breaks out. Chaos ensues. What was already set in motion was interrupted by him, a tourist named Sungchan. But a Paris show-off won’t be a show-off without a museum, so there goes that theory. 

In any case, a museum or art gallery is a must, so thirty minutes later, you are showing him around one of the many museums. The grand rooms echo with silence as you hope that the angels are praying for you to make it to the end of the tour. It’s simply so overwhelming to be next to such beauty. You can’t stop thinking how much he fits the scene. 

The line of his nose; his lips; the shadows of his collarbones; the wrinkles of his smile; the flow of your hair; the trickle of his laugh—for all of these, he is worthy of a museum.

So when you finally get your hands on the previously ‘passed-around’ camera, an exhibit of blue curiosities rests on his shoulders. Quickly, you take some pictures of him with the Rothko piece. It’s impossible to determine which is more beautiful—him or the artwork. 

There are repercussions for that, as he leads you to allow him to take a picture of you—his ulterior motive, though, to have a picture of you forever. You’ll be with him no matter what, even after he leaves this city and you behind.

JUST TOURISTY THINGS

Time will separate the two of you, just as a river divides Paris, but as you continue to stroll beside the Seine, where musicians sing of hopeless love and painters craft their works in the open, the issue of time is not a priority. If anything, all the time in the world at this moment is yours.

He grabs your hands and spins the two of you around, his hair brushed with sun-kissed shades of cinnamon brown. Claiming he isn’t immune to music, so you can’t be critical and should just follow his example.

But when the spinning becomes too intense and he feels lightheaded, he tries to steady himself by staring into your eyes for longer than he should. Your proximity scares you, but you’re concerned and ask if he’s okay. 

A smile appears on his face as a result of your concern for him, while a heavenly presence is tipping from his eyes as he’s making a promise that he’s good, if not better than ever.

A smile that inspires hope & makes you believe. A smile that undoubtedly had great power to bring you both to this point. He’s beautiful in every sense. Mentality, personalty, appearance.

He’s even surpassing the Eiffel Tower in terms of beauty with ease!

Your captured images, with him as the subject, create the most ideal postcards, and as you’re showing them to him, it’s when a feeling of sad nostalgia envelops you prior to even parting ways with him. You come to the realization that you desire to spend more time with him, not just one day.

But all you get is one day... 

A magic day... that is gradually starting to turn into a night—and as the two of you walk on the fresh-washed gravel paths through the Luxembourg Gardens, the wind becomes clearer and sharper.

Even the bare trees, which you’re used to seeing against the sky, seem to be feeling the warmth of his touch as he insists on pushing and spreading his fingers inside your palm. His vibrance makes even the leafless trees feel less lonely. He takes your hand in such a way that you aren’t even allowed to give him a warning look. Hand in hand, you have no choice but to chase after him.

NO DESTINATION BACK UP

Does it even matter that he doesn’t know the city? 

The ecstasy you are running on is surley telling you that it’s all about getting lost and  discovering yourself in unfamiliar places—and that’s all because of him.

The startled look in this stranger’s eyes as you two nearly cross a street at a red light due to his rushing… 

As he begins to apologize while biting his lower lip, claiming he didn’t mean to. 

His deer-eyes in the headlights are all that you can focus on really. It’s tempting to say, ‘It’s okay,’ but there is something about his apologetic expression that makes you feel as though he’s completely enclosing you in his gaze. 

His eyes are hugging you while he apologizes. It has been a long time since you felt something like that—felt completely safe. Sincerely, and risk-free. He’s a walking green light. So then, it’s a bit sadistic of you to wish for his apology to last longer. 

But how can you not?

When his hand squeezes yours even harder, and he turns all starry eyes while biting his lip in fear?

Someone you would definitely want to try and fit into your pocket, regardless of his height or width.

CRAMPED SPACES

When the cruelness of the night finally reaches your bones, chasing a tiny, romantic restaurant is the only way to soothe the cold.

The warmth of the atmosphere meshes with his gray cardigan, and you find yourself moving more and more into his comfort zone due to the crowded space, where many are seeking refuge for the same reason as you two. 

His rich scent fills the air around you and his knees keep touching yours due to the close proximity. The wine glass dangles in his hand and his lips become more and more affected, picking up a cherry hue.

His collarbones exhibit every movement of his body, and for whatever reason, you feel an insatiable urge to reach for the soft, grey wool and uncover more.

You’re so invested in this delicate area it’s making you feel absolutely irrational. The constant spreading of his hand through his lush hair and pushing it behind is only adding to your obsession. Regardless of how often he does this, the silky hair flies back into his eyes every time.

He has this habit of dipping his small fork into your chocolate mousse, taking a bite, then flirting while he listens to you talk and plays with the fork, letting the sharp tips sink into his soft lips.

The gesture merely begs for your attention, so in order to stay true to yourself, you greet him by clinking glasses with him. But as soon as his glass touches yours, you have to look him in the eyes again and be so sincere... You lose either way.

This gorgeous person’s natural flirtatious charm can’t be escaped. His focus shifting between your lips and eyes as he attentively listens to you is quite possibly the hottest thing about him. 

And although he insists on practising some French words, he continually mispronounces ‘croissants’ and ‘creme brulee’. He got ‘Bonjour’, ‘Bonsoir’, and ‘baguette’ right, which is worthy of notice; and the greatest reward would be a peck on the cheek, which he hasn’t yet received...

The fork remains sunk in his lips. If there’s one dessert that can be described as the ‘most scrumptious’, it’s him.

UNDERGROUND MISHAPS

Running with him in hand is a somewhat exciting experience. You aren’t sure where he got his stamina, but you’re sprinting down the stairs and will have some downtime when you two board the next metro.

When you reach underground platform though, a sea of tourists waits impatiently to go home or explore the outside world.

His hand carefully slides around your waist as you wait, standing side by side, your chests exploding from all the running. Whether it’s to protect you or keep you to himself, the intent is unclear.

And just as you’re about to look up to give him another warning glance, you realize that you’ve already forgotten how many there were. His adorable facial expressions are the reason you never succeed.

Obviously, the wine has increased his energy—his feelings are in his eyes. 

His features quickly and suddenly take on an emotive tone. A line appears between his brows and a hint of melancholy on his face as recognition dawns. Maybe the effects of the end of the day are finally starting to catch up with him.

You realize that he’s a lot of fun—the type of person who always sees the glass half full but who is also, presumably, grounded enough to realize that something is in the way and the glass isn’t quite enough full. Though he’ll eventually have to face it... saying goodbye to you is probably the biggest treat.

His hand is trembling inside yours...

... whether from anger, sadness, or excitement, it can be all of them or then

“Sungchan,”

You barely have time to finish what you started before he pulls you in and gives you a hug. Metros, come and go. People are walking past you, but he freezes this moment.

His coat’s lapels seem kind enough to part away, giving you more personal space and allowing your ear to fall directly on his heart.

His hand falls effortlessly over your head, as soft as a snowflake as he says, “It’d ruin everything if we said anything. Let’s not.” He carasses your hair and then plants a kiss.

A hug so strong that it keeps you safe from the passing of time. 

However, even this beam of sunshine has a heart, and it rains. Not even he has the complete ability to stop time from passing. The earth orbits, and the leaves dissipate.

Though what he can do is, 

he can certainly seize some of the light in the circumstance as he pulls on your hand once more, making the promise of, “Trust me.”

FALLING IN LOVE

There is definitely a sense of a ‘Trust me’ irony in the situation however, about how you won’t fall in love with him.

He seems to be pointing you in the direction of the photo booth at the end of the platform, which he noticed while your bodies were merging together. 

You’re fairly certain that those will be your favourite, worst-ever photos of the two of you, but the only memory you can physically hug, so you decide not to argue.

Naturally, the cubicle is small, but what do you expect from a metro photo booth?

The sweet giant battles his height and shoulders to enter, and when he does, he just hovers above you, looking down. His palms pressed against two different walls, and his neck bent at an awkward angle because you have taken all the ‘what can hardly be called a’ seat. 

Like it is your fault, right?

With a tongue poke to his cheek and raised brows, he’s subtly advising you to do ‘this one thing.’

Like hell, “I’m not sitting in your lap,” you bat your eyelashes at him. 

“It’s too late to back out. Plus, I don’t think there’s any other way to make this work.”

The goofy grin morphs his whole face into what it would be to stand under the sun; his cheeks rise higher the more he shows teeth. He’s so cute. It melts your heart.

Your mouth stays open in shock as you say, “But it is you who wanted this,” before you endearingly defend yourself. “This was your idea.” How very ‘trust me’ of him. In the end, you accept. “Okay, fine,” you sulk while pouting.

Satisfied, he clicks his tongue. You both knew that you would accept; you just wanted to have some fun, didn’t you?

You eventually create room for him to sit, but when it comes time for you to sit, you hesitate. But then you feel his hands dragging your waist down, and the next thing you know, you’re in his lap. He has lost all patience.

You sigh with annoyance, but even you know it is all a front. 

Now hesitant to move, your back remains pressed against his chest, and you’re even halfway there trying to maintain your balance on your feet instead of lounging comfortably in his lap. However, his back hug is particularly effective because it feels like his palm is pressing deeper into your tummy, encouraging you to relax even more into him.

His thighs radiate unnecessary heat, and his warm breath tickles the side of your neck as his chin rests on your shoulder. He teases you, whispering, “You can face me you know, I don’t bite.”

There is an absolute anarchy, there beneath his palm, in your belly. Not the whispering tone!! 

You tilt your head back (ironically, letting it rest where his shoulder and neck meet), gazing at the near ceiling and mentally calculating the number of seconds until you lose your mind.

He rests with you, for a minute, or two… his heart densely kicking in your back, but you swear it’s a peaceful moment. He’s able to magically stop the flow of time, no matter what!

Perhaps outside of the small world that you two inhabit, the metro passes by for the fifth time, and perhaps the waiting area is swept by cleaners once more while your shoes peek out from under the curtain, threatening to blow your cover.

However, time never really stops—especially in this place, the City of Light, Paris, a city that never sleeps.

“Let—um” His voice cracks for the first time before he finally says, “Uh—Let us take those pictures.”

You shut your eyes, allowing the angst of the situation to have its way with you before turning to face him.

His brows appear flat, and the crack between them is even deeper than it used to be. Even his lips are fuller than they used to be. Or could it simply be the face-to-face intimacy that is causing them to appear in such a way?

All this time, you thought it was just a playful lust, an undeniable attraction, when, in fact, what you’re finding is love—love looking straight into your eyes.

You no longer need to hold it within you. You just admit it, completely aware that nothing will change but that it will undoubtedly have some significance because it’s better to let things out than to hold them inside.

“Sungchan,” you pause for a moment, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Like you haven’t already felt them, he takes your hand and puts it over his heart, allowing you to feel the butterflies surging through his chest. Your lips to your eyes is the route he prefers to travel most. “I don’t want to leave either,” he admits voice light and airy.

As you look at him, every time the photo booth camera flashes a bright light, the butterflies burst rhythmically—because of that, and as much at the magic, and at the calculated touch of a girl who, in the past, had learned to trust no one. Yet, here you are, choosing to trust someone you have just met & won’t see again.

Your hands tremble against his cheeks as you gently cup his face and begin your slow, careful inspection. His tense muscles slowly relax under your touch as you run a finger across the peak of his eyebrow.

You feel an influx of emotions as you begin to understand that this person is an angel. You’re tracing every inch of him into your brain—soaking up every star in his eyes and every mole on his face—because an angel like this can never be met twice...

His greatest quality, you think, even in this kind of ‘damned’ situation, is that he can’t stay serious; a smile lights up his face. The only word that adequately expresses how you feel is wanting to ‘devour’ the damned smile that lingers close to your lips. He’s irresistible.

Cute or sexy are terms that are so confusing with him. You aren’t sure to which he’s supposed to be leaning towards. It’s driving you crazy. He simply can not be defined.

And the more he holds you, the more confident he gets. He started off politely, treating you like a paper bird, and then he abruptly stops apologizing. His lashes start to make out slowly with the narrow look he gives you. His thumb glides over your bottom lip. There is only one meaning to it.

Conversely, the photos taken are sitting in the photo outlet. You whisper, “Sungchan,” gesturing to the pictures and apparently indicating that ‘your work here is done.’ 

His firm grip on your jaw, however, fiercely brings your face into his. His winey breath is coating your lips.

“But,” you knit your brows, “our series of pho—”

His index finger stops your lips from moving mid-sentence. “Let’s make another one.”

“You—you’re getting too comfortable in this,” You stagger over what you are saying as his nose brushes against yours, “for-for well, for something that will never happen again.” 

“That’s exactly why I need those photos,” he says, chewing the inside of his cheeks in response to your somewhat insensitive comment.

“And we—And we,” you keep breaking, “We’ve been her—

“Can I kiss you?” He brutally cuts you off.

His sugary lower lip is already pressed against yours. It no longer interests him what you’re saying. It’s a quiet question, but there is some dangerously real intent behind it.

Yes, but can he beg for a kiss?

Sure,

as if he’s breathing in the air that he knows he’ll be missing out on, his lips remain waiting for a sign before they get messy.

His thumb ignites ‘instant fire’ in every pore on your cheek with each precise circle. It’s more like he is consuming you in advance. 

Your thoughts are numb, and your heart is stuck in your throat. You don’t want to forget any part of it all, and you’re bound to in the high you’re experiencing right now... He was right when he advised it to be documented.

The gaping mouths. The tender lip-stroking. The deep, slow breathing. The hot air exchange.

His teeth clenched in pain. The energy he surrounds you with is so intense.

Your “Fuck!”

& Sungchan’s “Please,”

occur simultaneously.

�� 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

[aocello]

Assigning crew members as orchestra musicians based on vibes/lore my qualifications are having been in various music ensembles for like 7 years enjoy

allied

daniel: violin .. obviously .. he's the main character isn't he

zack: violin as well, it's flashy....in middle school he lost the concertmaster to johan and quit

jay: double bass...or timpani. deceptively subtle but can be extremely powerful

vasco: trombone, or tuba. something huge and powerful but not necessarily overbearing. NOT a trumpet bc the vibes are way different this is important

vin jin: french horn, for as much as it stands out it can be downright murderous when it wants to be

hudson: now this is a trumpetist. strong, flashy, yellow....

hostel

eli: cello!! my man can FUCK UP a dvorak/shostakovich piece but it's also warm, dependable...

warren: timpani. mighty warren chae is bursting the ear drums of the poor fuckers sitting in front of him

sally: viola, often overlooked but necessary harmonically to support the rest of the orchestra. also has such a rich warm tone when allowed to shine PLEASE GIVE HER MORE SCREENTIME FUCK

god dog

johan: violin originally, but he can play anything...i think some of his favourites are the clarinet and the flute. they sound beautiful but they have a very piercing tone, which reminds of martial arts like taekwondo (the guy loves his axe kicks)

big deal

jake: oboe........the orchestra tunes to it which parallels jakes leadership under big deal. also just as flashy as mma, requires a ton of skill

jerry: the other oboe player LOL he lets jake have first desk. or he plays english horn (the instrument the oboe doubles, like how flutes can play piccolo)

sinu: ....french horn? trumpet? he also just feels like the players i know. but lorewise he also plays oboe i guess

workers

samuel: bassoon, hear me out it's a double reeded instrument like the oboe. low, powerful, full n rich sound.......

eugene: conductor LOL

The guys

gun: man i don't even know... in the grand scheme of things he's probably a violinist actually

goo: trumpet. bright, flashy, but can have a killer sound. Theee most trumpet trumpetist to exist

[atthebell]

do you have any favorite days on the qsmp? if yes which ones?

SO MANY these are not in order they're just whatever i could think of. also idk if you mean like vod recs or just like fave days either way i'm gonna list them somewhat like recs

the french speakers' arrival is a wonderful day from several povs (bagheras, cellbits, quackity's, although his is fairly short as always)

similarly, brazilians arriving is also great! watch any of the brazilians or q or roier or even phil who was losing his mind waiting for them to give the eggs back

WATCH A DAY 1 VOD!!!! if you already have watched one pov, watch another from someone else! day 1 vods are so funny and deranged and really set the initial tone that really was the server's vibes basically up until the brazilians arrived

the egg event day! tbh watch any pov but roier's and jaiden's are really really good

the conclusion of the happy pills arc was an incredible day; i know it's probably soured for a lot of folks, and that's understandable, but if you never watched it and feel up for it, check out pac's and cellbit's pov of it because it's wonderful (pac didn't stream the actual conclusion himself, so you'll have to watch cellbit's to see the full conclusion of pac and forever getting the risus antidote)

idr what day it was exactly but the day bobby was killed by the code and lost his first life is a super interesting vod from several povs-- namely roier's, cellbit's, phil's, bad's, and probably some other folks? a LOT of lore stuff happened that day that was super interesting

cellbit's may 7 vod (featuring the cucurucho chainsaw hallway) + his may 10 vod (featuring him screaming and revving a chainsaw at the sight of cucurucho); tbh, if you're into qcellbit, watch his first week vods if you haven't because they're IMPECCABLE they decided to immediately torture him and also gave him so many puzzles it was great. this whole era of theory bros/ordo theoritas was incredible generally too so max's and bad's vods are also very very fun watches and they didn't spend a million hours deciphering an ARG so their vods are easier to get through

bagi's arrival IMPECCABLE tbh watching anyone's day 1/arrival vod is a good idea they're usually pretty enlightening & fun; watch her pov as well as anyone else's because from what i remember they had to do a bunch of weird puzzles to get to her

similarly, carre's first day is very funny and chill vibes very enjoyable

gemeos do misterio reveal need i say more

the time roier and vegetta got quackity drunk at casualonas and got him to reveal his plans to kill the eggs on tape

literally any roier vod frankly roier is just so entertaining i could watch him wash dishes and have a good time

jaiden's birthday party vod

jaiden's vod where she was going on a break (i think when she'd been to japan?) and we got the reveal that she'd worked with the feds in the past

whatever day it was where they went and found kameto again in some federation hq

the juanaflippa life trial was deranged i didn't watch it myself (i think i was at my nephew's birthday party or something tbh) but every part of it sounded WILD

related, the funeral streams from any of the parents whose kids died are pretty interesting

the day quackity found out tilin died is BRUTAL but a great watch-- q is, of course, a brilliant rper and what he did with tilin's death was masterful and really heartbreaking. i think it was the day after tilin died? something like that

bobby dungeon. obviously. that was crazy and it set so much up for jaiden and roier's chararacters gahhhhh

the event with the new members' arrival (like tina and everyone else in that whole big crew)

any romero richas moments i cannot think of dates or anything off the top of my head but montelyson lore is so cool and genuinely creepy i miss it so much

the furniture prank came at such a wrong time but it was genuinely so fun along with the deranged waystone prank i lowkey wish they'd happened like. three days before or something bc they would've been really really funny

hide and seek!!!! again idr the day but when they finally got to do that event it was so cool

festa junina!!!!!! so many shenanigans and fun times

dia de los muertos EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!! seeing bobby again ough and all the newer members getting to meet the old dead eggs.... gahh

spiderbit wedding i am unbiased. nodders.

the day where baghs and cellbit did the first day train station puzzle was so good i NEED them solving shit together again sigh

BLUE BIRD MISSION + TIMER DUNGEON!!!!! event(s) of all time fr i loved that shit.

that time elq kidnapped dapper was kinda lame in that it didn't actually make sense BUT baghera went IN on that man and the whole thing of them following him was very cool

max and bad assassinating elq KING SHIT

post-first debate explosion need i say more that shit ruled fit's pov is great for that particular bit of the night bc you get to see ramon figuring it all out

the day they did a server reset so they let roier and bobby and tilin (i think it was them three? its been ages) blow a bunch of shit up that ruled

spiderbit ocean temple hangout very very good day

tazercraft prison break (the one where they escaped with walter bob but then he got taken away at the barbie house)

tiny mike day idr what was going on that day i jsut will never recover from tiny mike. miquinho. smaller than richas even so itty

[callmearcturus]

⌚ 🙏🏻🥺

"Hang on," Grace said, "I'm thinking. Hang on. So. You barely even *liked* me, and you saved me from that rat bastard Gabriel, pulled me out of a wrecked car, played human shield to protect me from that lunatic French girl, drove us around while handcuffed, then I almost let a train hit you and you still, you know. Saved me and all that sappy shit, all while you barely even liked me--" "I liked you well enough," Ethan said. "Uh-huh, sure." She points to Benji. "So what would you do for him?"

lmao okay okay this was one punct and i were kicking around that got surprisingly far but now this version needs a full rewrite bc we actually want to make the cast of characters line up with what the Final Reckoning trailer revealed would be Team The Best Team. so this is the old version with luther and grace.

the concept is that Ethan and Benji have a massive expository row because the team just had a chance at Gabriel and Ethan fucked it to go save Benji (even though Grace was Right There and ready to assist, she is badly stung by this) and it spirals into this back and forth with flashbacks and competing interpretation of event between Ethan and Benji while Grace basically is eating popcorn

also we really wanted to harness the simmering, barely suppressed anger that Ethan has through all of Dead Reckoning. rereading it all, it's really good. we're gonna have to figure out a grace-paris-degas redux but @interropunct bro i just reread the document and it's SO fun, ethan and benji are both SO FUCKING MEAN in this fic

anyway, here is a large chunk bc a lot is gonna be rewritten. won't provide any more excerpts of this fic bc this is a chunky chunk:

Sitting on the edge of the table, Grace actually pressed her fingers to her cheeks, reflecting and magnifying Benji. "Oh, that's precious. And so long ago! How long, exactly? Wait, and you've been--" Dropping the cute expression quickly, she made a gesture with her fingers, suggestive, "-- since all the way back in the stone age?"

"You're not that much younger than us," Luther chided her. He was sitting in one of the less rickety chairs, pointedly listening without looking at either Ethan or Benji. That meant he was really thinking about this, taking it in as new information.

Luther did not need even more information about Ethan. If there was an upper threshold for knowing a person, Luther had hit that for Ethan back in the early 2000s.

"You don't know my age, don't pretend like you do," Grace shot back. "I've worked very hard to ensure that." She pointed at Benji. "Go on, about the shagging?"

Benji, unaware of Ethan's new paranoia, seemed happy enough to oblige. "We--ell, no, not precisely? We had a few run-ins around the IMF HQ."

"We have an HQ?" Grace asked, pouting. "I thought it was this big decentralized thing."

"Oh, now it is, yes. Thank god for that, the old headquarters were this nightmare of glass walls everywhere you went. The least clandestine building you could imagine for an intelligence group." He flapped a hand through the air dismissively. "Trying to get a lick of privacy there was impossible, so eventually I started meeting Ethan back at my place... a couple of times?"

Unable to strangle the thing in him that had to be accurate with numbers at all times, Ethan supplied, "It was three times. At least, that year we... it was thrice, before the other times."

Luther barely moved at all, but suddenly his eyes were fixed on Ethan.

Discretion was the better part of valor; Ethan looked away, scuffing the toe of his boots against the dusty floor, examining the shape of his footprints.

"Sure, thrice, sounds about right," Benji agreed. "It was just some fooling around before he met... someone." He moved his shoulders in a carefully smooth, casual shrug. "And that was about as serious as cardiac arrest, so that put an end to it. Amicably, of course, I wasn't under any, you know." Another shrug, this one the exact same movement, a scripted motion Benji forgot to space out. "Misconceptions."

The back of Ethan's teeth twinged. He made himself unclench his jaw, wondering if Benji's bullshit was as obvious to everyone or if Ethan had just become an unwilling scholar in all of the tics and tactics of Benji Dunn.

He didn't get to gauge that because Grace was looking at him now, her brow furrowed like she was mentally recasting him as a younger man. "Hm. Well, fair enough, you may be onto something here. I mean, if it was just a bit of rough fun back twenty-thirty-whatever years ago a handful of times. That shouldn't still be a factor unless one or both of you are super weird about it."

Benji and Ethan looked at each other simultaneously, like the slack in a rope suddenly pulling out and slamming their gazes into each other.

Benji had the decency to look abashed, his teeth pressing down on his lower lip.

When he didn't answer Grace's implicit question, Ethan crossed the room to stand by her, dragging Benji's gaze with him. Popping one hip up, Ethan rested his weight on the table next to her and folded his arms.

Benji pursed his lips. Ethan lifted his eyebrows.

Grace, watching this exchanged, grinned and looked back at Benji.

The color in Benji's face darkened, his neck flushing, his ears going pink. "I-- I didn't say that, I mean, he-- we-- there was the time after he got out of prison."

"Which one?" Ethan asked innocently.

Benji glared back at him. "You know which one."

===

It's pure coincidence that Benji's the one who gets the call. He's rarely been back in the States since passing his field exam, which he's been told is normal for IMF agents. The organization might be technically American, but sometimes that's easy to forget. There's a lot less jingoistic ooh-rah attitude than Benji's experienced when he's been to Quantico and god forbid fucking Langley. It suits him well enough as a former Briton since he's never been able to work up a sense of patriotism for either of his homelands.

Point being: it's luck that he's the one who gets the call. With more than a little banked amusement, Benji steals the first car he sees that looks like it's more than a V6 and races across the desert at speeds that would conservatively get him fined an imperial fuckton of money but more likely would get him arrested.

Benji has known for most of his life that it's only illegal if they can catch you.

An hour and change of fast but uneventful driving later, Benji's phone pings, informing him he's approaching the extraction point. Taking his foot off the gas, the car has plenty of momentum to coast the rest of the way there.

'There' is a spot in the middle of nowhere on US-95 under a spotless blue sky. Pulled off to the side of the road is a rust-red Camaro with the hood propped open. It's late enough in the day that the asphalt ripples like river water, but the sun has at least fallen enough to cast a shadow.

Sitting in the narrow shadow of the car with his arms draped over his knees and his shirt draped over his head and shoulders, is one Ethan Hunt. As Benji closes in, he can see the subtle shift of Ethan's head as he tilts it just enough to look over and examine the approaching vehicle.

Something must give Benji away, because before he's got the car in park, Ethan springs up, shaking his head to knock the shirt off. He strolls out into the road enough for Benji to glide to a stop next to him.

Rolling the window down, Benji is granted a shockingly unguarded look as the blast of air conditioning rushes out the window and ruffles through Ethan's hair. With a sigh of vivid relief, Ethan leans his arms on the car, soaking in the cool artificial breeze.

Leaning into an expensive car window in a singlet and a pair of dark blue jeans, he strikes a very specific image, and Benji can't help himself. "Going my way, doll?"

Ethan smiles, quick and bright, but the second he spots the bottles of water in the cup holders, he reaches out a hand in silent by clear demand. Passing one over, Benji watches Ethan crack the seal on the cap and proceed to knock back two-thirds of the water, his throat working swallow after swallow with mechanical efficiency.

The last third he pours over his own head, dousing his hair and skin with a sigh. "Okay. Thank you."

Putting the car into park, Benji slides out. "What the hell did you do, run out of fuel in the middle of the desert?"

"Mechanical failure," Ethan says, beckoning as he walks over to the popped hood. The back of his hand rubs the rivulets of water from his face, leaving dark smudges behind. The dampness makes the tips of his hair curl, the length notably shorter than when they were in Russia-then-Dubai-then-Mumbai.

The sun is still brutal. Sliding his light jacket off, Benji holds it up, blocking the light a bit and shading Ethan. With his shoulders and neck exposed like that, Ethan's lucky he's not already burnt like a slice of white bread left in the toaster.

Ethan glances over at Benji, eyebrows lifted. "What?" Benji said. "I don't know anything about cars."

"Really?"

"I know how to disable any tracking on a vehicle, how to hotwire the ignition, how to parallel park, and how to crack the remote start encryption. Anything beyond that, forget it."

That earns him a grin, the dark streak curving with Ethan's skin. "Well, one of the coolant hoses cracked. Ergo, engine can't keep cool. And it's a bit hot out here."

"Ah, right, and the CPU just automatically shuts down when you get over 70 degrees."

"Sure," Ethan says with a little laugh.

"Your car?"

"No. Arranged ride courtesy of the IMF. Yours?"

"Probably better than yours. I made sure to lift it out of the parking garage of an upscale office park."

His smile curves into a smirk. "Clearly you do know a bit about cars." Bracing himself on the lip of the lifted hood, Ethan's eyes settle on Benji's and hold.

Abruptly, Benji has a full-body memory hit him. Another year but the same smirk and the same open, honest eyes. And Ethan has not gotten less attractive since their first meeting.

No, if anything, Benji wants him more. It'd be a problem if not for the way Ethan's practically beaming the query into Benji's skull.

It strikes him like a premonition coalescing out of the heat mirage: Benji gets the feeling he's losing his footing here, that he's going to have a hard time saying no to this man.

He clears his throat, dry in the lingering heat of the fading day. "So, you going to let me drive for once?"

Ethan makes a show about thinking about it, his arm dropping back to his side, back into the shelter of Benji's jacket. "I might. You seem to have a handle here, Agent Dunn."

===

"God," Grace said from where she's laid on her back across the table, her jacket folded up under her head, her fingers laced across her belly. "What a line. You put me in 38 degree heat and I couldn't be seductive if my life depended on it." She turned her head to look at Ethan as he continued to sulk against windowsill. The backlit of the city lights were kind enough to obscure his sour expression. "You're a rare operator."

Benji huffed out a laugh as he focused on draining his teabag against his spoon, tossing the sachet into the trash with a nimble flick of his fingers. "The best in the business. I still see that lean and the black smear in my dreams sometimes." With a loud, dramatic sigh, he shook his head. "So we... got on again. Either because I'm weak or Ethan's that good. Half dozen one, six of the other."

The line of Ethan's shoulders drew tight as a bow. "I was on that roadside for three hours and you had the A/C at full blast. I would have done anything to get in that car."

Twisting at the hips, Benji cast a look back at the surly silhouette. "Hm? So if it'd been, say, Brandt who was showing up, you would have still been all slinky with the bedroom eyes?"

Grace only knew William Brandt by reputation, and the way Ethan instantly frowned was another piece of information to add to the collage. "Brandt?"

"In this hypothetical alternate reality," Luther said slowly with a deep hum of amusement, "is Brandt the kind of person who would bother showing up? He'd just delegate that shit out. He'd invent some new requisition form, fill it out in triplicate, and file it with the appropriate authorities before he'd drive out into the desert like that."

"Brandt's a good man," Ethan told Grace seriously. "He just... expresses his concern in very specific ways."

"I would bet every black money paycheck I have ever gotten that he's never gotten off in the backseat of a car," Benji added helpfully.

Getting an elbow under herself, Grace pushed herself up to sitting. "Okay, wait. Shagging in the backseat is already a precarious proposition for anyone over the age of twenty-five in my humble opinion." Benji and Luther both nodded in tacit agreement; Ethan had reverted to his stoic fuming. "But you two did this in the middle of the road in broad daylight after one of you had been in the sun and dirt for hours?" She let out a low, impressed whistle. "That is interesting, now that I think about it."

Ethan's tone of voice had that very particular quality to it that Grace had learned meant he was trying to unclench his jaw and mostly failing. "Interesting how."

She kept her eyes on Benji, who was a much softer target than the alternative. "I am missing an important piece of information that I definitely need to understand the situation." She pressed her palms together. "Was-slash-is the sex good?"

Head snapping up, Ethan was completely back in the conversation. "Grace!"

"It's vital intelligence!" she told him earnestly.

"That isn't relevant!"

"Mhm, dunno, I think it is," Luther offered up with a remarkably straight face. "The parameters change pretty dramatically. If the sex isn't good versus if it is good, that one variable alters the way we interpret the information. The motives at play become significantly different."

Folding his arms tightly over his chest, Ethan narrowed his eyes at Luther. "This isn't an op sec debrief, you don't need to interpret--"

"It was nice," Benji said simply.

Grace lifted her eyebrows at him. "How nice?"

"When you're going to shag in the backseat of a stolen car in the middle of the desert, it's, you know." He shrugged one shoulder. "Good."

===

It's hard to tell in the overbright light of the sun, but the moment Benji gets Ethan into the car, stretched out across the backseat, the shade reveals that Ethan's skin is almost glittering, the sheen of road dust and sweat and bottled water coating him like a coating of sugar or salt.

Salt, Benji discovers with his mouth, and earth. It should not be as hot as it is, but then again, everything is hot by definition right now, it's bloody US-95.

"Close that door," Ethan pants, getting a grip on the seat enough to pull himself further into the car.

"You're not that short," Benji says.

A fast roll of Ethan's eyes escapes him before he reaches up over his head, grabbing the handle of the other door and shoving it open, the beautiful flat line of the desert behind him. "Come on, Benji, logistics."

Well, Benji was good at logistics.

With the door behind them shut, giving them a laughably small amount of protection from the road (and giving any passing drivers a laughably small amount of protection from them), Benji gets his hands on all that skin, running his hands up under Ethan's shirt, his palms pressed firmly. Without further prompt, Ethan tears his shirt up; it escapes his grasp and flutters out the open door. "Shit," Ethan says quietly, almost tilting his head to look.

Gripping Ethan by the belt, Benji drags him down, getting his mouth on the tender skin under the hinge of his jaw, tongue pressing hard enough to feel the pulse there. Shirt forgotten, Ethan cups the back of Benji's head. It'd be tender, but he drags Benji even closer, making a thin noise as Benji's teeth press to his neck.

To hell with logistics, there was nothing thought-out about it, every coherent thought melting out of Benji's skull. There's no way to get more naked without some contortionist-level maneuvering, so Benji doesn't bother, instead just gets things unbuckled, unzipped, opened.

The last time they'd done this, it had been different. Benji hoped Ethan didn't notice, worked to get his hand on Ethan's cock so he wouldn't think about their dalliances back in DC. This wasn't discrete blowjobs and making out in the stairwell with an easy smile and whispered jokes.

Don't think about it, Benji begged silently. If Ethan did and asked Benji why, he did not have an answered prepared. And the truth would probably not go down well.

Fortunately, Ethan just got his foot braced on the frame of the door, legs spread wide as Benji squeeze his dick. "Benji, yesss," he said in a hushed voice, sibilant and needy, "don't stop, don't--" A hand flung out to grip the storage pocket behind the passenger seat, holding on as his head tipped over the edge, dropping back to gasp at the desert beyond.

Anything Benji said would have been much too dangerous, so he focused on tasting the dust and salt, muffling himself as Ethan's body tensed under him, ignoring the heavy thud of want want want filling his thoughts.

===

"Nice?" Grace prompted, hands curled around the edge of her seat, tucked between her thighs, a perfect coquettish image she was aiming at Benji like a laser sight. "Or good? Or..." She trailed off meaningfully.

Not for the first time, Ethan felt a sense of relief that Benji was so consistently unattracted to women, he was immune to Grace's sharply honed maneuvers. Half of her repertoire just didn't play with him, thank god.

Instead of noticing Grace's entreating stare, Benji was examining his fingernails, idly breaking off a chipped bit as he very deliberately didn't look Ethan's way. His awareness was a constant weight, though; as Ethan continued to pace, one of his steps brought him six inches closer to the center of the room, and Benji-- did not look, but reacted, a millisecond of extra time between his breaths before he went on. "I'm not sure what to say. I mean, these things are sort of subjective, I think?"

"Oh, certainly," she agreed. "And what's your subjective opinion?" Her eyes flicked to Ethan, then back to Benji. "Scale of one to ten?"

"Aces high or low?" Luther added.

For a moment, the threat feels real, that he'll have to stand here and listen to a Critical Analysis of Sex with Ethan Hunt. Before he just decides to escape out the damn window, there's a crack in his veneer, Benji's head twisted quickly to Ethan, just enough to flash a grimace that Ethan thoroughly agreed with.

The alternative was almost worse. "The quality of any given sexual encounter isn't the issue here," Benji said, voice flattening. "Hell, the fact that we did have sex isn't even on trial here. The actual issue is that he," and here, he managed to nod his head in Ethan's direction without actually looking at him at all, "has been pulling this shit since London. The sex is-- is incidental!"

"London," Grace echoed.

London. Ethan's fingertips dug into his arms as his pacing slowed and he came to a stop.

The wooden chair creaked as Luther got up, shaking his head as he walked over to the very narrow kitchenette they'd set up. (If a portable induction top on a minifridge counted as a kitchenette.) "London," he said. Pulling the fridge open, he extracted a bottle of water, two beers. "Benji, drink?"

"Just flip the kettle back on," Benji sighed.

Distributing the water to Ethan and one of the beers to Grace, Luther used the edge of the table to pop the top off his own bottle. "Long time ago, a different crazy mass-murdering terrorist abducted Benji to try to force Ethan's hand."

"'Tried' successfully," Ethan pointed out bitterly.

"He fitted me for a lovely new semtex vest," Benji said. "Accessorized with enough shrapnel to kill everyone in the vicinity. All for access to a redbox that Ethan was able to get ahold of."

"Oh," Grace said, her bright amusement from the entire situation dimming. "Well, shit."

"It worked out," Luther said. "Ethan got Benji out of there and we managed to incapacitate Lane, put an end to his organization."

Ethan opened his mouth to correct that rosy version of the downfall of the Syndicate, wanting to mention the months of additional work tracking down the remnants, the splinter cells, the Apostles and Lark and Kashmir.

The hurt radiated from Benji as he went on. "Oh yes, the whole thing went swimmingly. What Luther is kindly leaving out is the bit where the reason the whole mission went to shit was me. But don't worry, Ethan hasn't forgotten."

"What," Ethan said slowly, stalking forward and purposefully putting himself in Benji's line of sight, "are you talking about?"

"After Cobalt, I actually thought you took me seriously. Hell, you barely let me work with other teams--"

"Because we work well together. Wait, are you upset that I..." He'd never considered that Benji was resentful about being Ethan's first-pick for 90 percent of team compositions, Benji had never indicated anything but quiet surprise when it started, and the way that melted into tacit understand, the mutual understanding that Ethan wanting Benji on his team was a foregone conclusion, Ethan thought they both understood.

"--maybe once that was because you," Benji shook his head once, hard. "But after our romantic candlelit bomb-filled evening, something changed. You never trusted me as an agent again, trusted me to understand the parameters of this horrible fucking job. Not with Lane back then, and not now with Gabriel."

"Okay, let's have a breath here," Grace said suddenly, which was good because Ethan was not sure what words were about to come out of his own mouth beyond what are you fucking talking about and her voice was like a pin popping the bubble both of them were alone in. "Benji, that's a lot of, ah."

"Olympic leaps of logic?" Ethan offered.

"Shit you should have hashed out on a therapy couch?" Luther added.

"Lived and frequently replicated life experiences," Benji said, mouth twisted in anger. "Don't act like this didn't start the next day after I was abducted."

[reverie-darling]

HEY I SAW UR POST ‼️‼️

Can I know more abt ur hcs on Nodth African James? Its cool asf and I'm interested to know more 💚🍀🎀

HII IM GLAD YOU LIKED ITTT

Soo on my NA!James this is focused on Marocan/Algerian

I feel that his Arabic name would be either "Jasir(ja-sir n it means courageous/bold it's too on the nose tbh but it's pretty)" or "Jad and it means and bear w me on this serious hehehe"

Soo I don't think he's gonna like Kouskus like at all ,it feels like sand in his mouth and it doesn't fill him up and the vegetables get mixed up and he hates chickpeas and and- he can come up with a thousand reasons why he doesn't like it

by Effie makes it every Friday "it's tradition to do so James! deal with it" Soo boy eats noodles every Friday 😭 he'd pout about it

Sirius l o v e s Kouskus and doesn't get why James is so picky and eats it every Friday without fail- even gets second servings Effie is always telling James "look Sirius like it, you're just dramatic"

speaking of food, Sirius was used to your typical croissant and coffee french breakfast,so seeing a whole ass feast for breakfast was a jarring experience

I'm talking boiled eggs , coffee,milk, flatbread,homemade fresh and warm bread (Effie is an early bird and she bakes almost every morning) leben (fermented milk), garlic,olives , olive oil

like Monty eats raw garlic in the morning, Sirius is shocked,but then again that man has the power of horse,maybe that's why

also their coffee is strong and Effie drinks that shit black

James knows Arabic, french and English and some berber,so yeah, Sirius/regulus talking french ain't shit,he can n will keep up

he would listen to ray so muchh I hate him

he owns a djellaba and a burnous, Effie makes him wear them in Yannaer (berber's new year)

Effie does henna to both Sirius and James,but not full palm n fingers maybe just a bit in their pinkies

Effie is amazigh (berber) while Monty would probably be from Shlef or something

he would use the sound "aaaahhh" to express multiple emotions , it's like it's own language

Soo yeah, I don't have much bc I thought of him this morning but I'm sure I'll have more after he marinates in my head

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

random kaz headcanons cause s2 kaz owns my heart

he can have full blown conversations in spanish (or french cause of the parapluie scene in mighty med) but for some reason, can't recognize that he's not speaking english

^it takes chase playing back a recording from his hard drive for him to realize

^then he'll playfully make fun of chase (for funsies) for having a hard drive

he really likes dying his hair and it either looks terrible and he'll cover it up or it will look amazing and people fall in love (he 100% had frosted tips once in his life and immediately regretted it)

^he covers all of the bad dye jobs with black dye and it shocks everyone when they find out that his supposedly natural hair color isn't actually natural

he can do a backflip (he just gives that vibe okay??)

he's actually a great cook but he's messy and doesn't want to use the elite force compound's kitchen because he's too used to his kitchen's layout back at home

he likes having people sit in his lap (like not in a sexual way, just like in general, it's comforting)

^there will be times when the elite force members will just sit on him (either cause they didn't notice or think they'll get a reaction out of him) and he won't even flinch, he'll just sit there, scrolling on his phone or having a conversation

he 100% makes "that's what she/he said jokes" (im right!! this is so right it's basically canon)

he owns thousands of hoodies but only wears the same 4-5

he wears vans (you can't convince me otherwise)

he had a klepto phase as a kid (literally in canon he steals pens a lot so im basically right)

he used to have a true crime podcast but made himself too scared to sleep so he stopped

^he's thinking of starting it up again now that he's less jumpy

he 100% just jumps and/or latches onto people for the fun of it

^chase will just be at his work station and suddenly there's a kaz hanging on his back. oliver will try to make a sandwich, and suddenly there's a kaz now attached to his torso and sandwich ingredients on the floor

getting dressed to go see movies was one of his favorite things as a kid (like how people wore pink for barbie and suits for the gru movie)

he can sleep standing up and even though the rats also technically sleep standing up it still freaks them out

^it also freaks skylar out (even though she's an alien)

he used to make fun of chase for owning sound-proof headphones (bc he wasn't using them for music) but after stealing chase's when he was out one day, he now owns a pair and loves them very dearly

he hates documentaries with a passion and will dramatically turn one off if someone dares watching one (even if he's in a different room)

okay it's getting lengthy so im gonna stop here

[plaguethewaters]

hey lychee heeyyy if you ever wanna yk talk about the beeduo kids I will. I will Very gladly listen (<- avid listener)

my french hw is looking at me very badly.

ANYWAY i have been having very heavy brainrto about a second beeduo kid her name is Maple and she is absolutely perfect in every single way.

i have.l extensive enderman headcanons about pretty much all of their society and biology - because im sick and dumb in the head mostly, but also because i have a pretty detailed space au with endermen as a race where most of the wordbuilding came from. Then again, in my canon continuation au (wich started with the idea of making a better ending to the dsmp and then spiraled into like two more seasons and twenty to forty more years of story) ranboo is, in fact, a full blooded enderman and also a prince from the end so i kinda needed to get mysself some lore for that too.

Strictly maple specific biology fact include

endermen do not have any gender, but they also do not have any sexes. Unlike humans and other human based hybrids, endermen reproduce entirely asexually.

enderman reproduction is strictly based on the End, because endermen are technically made of End Dirt. There's a small, slightly related specie of enderman that is instead made of Nether Dirt. Ranboo is a little bit of an experiment, because they're made of both. (it was not an experiment on purpose. His older sister accidentally spilled the wrong dirt while he was being made)

This works basically like these: two or more people (more often more, as children are raised communally in hauntings. The only "single parent" household that really exists in the end is the royal family, and that's a whole other can of worms) decide they want a child. They gather around one of the Sacred Birth Places, which is any space that has a decently high density of dragon magic, and then they perform a ritual that i have yet to properly think about to make that baby. The baby is then made from the magic dirt and it'll proceed to grow pretty much like a human child.

The Dirt Baby is made 40% of dragon magic, 10% of Dirt, and 50% of their parent's shared souls.

(in my minecraft wordbuilding, a "soul" is the code a player runs on. For endermen player specifically, their sould is physically made into the enderpearl)

(the endermen that get farmed for the pearls aren't players, mostly. Kinda like the difference between and ape and a human irl)

Now enderian children. They are such fucked up little creatures and i love them very much.

First fact! They Do Not Have Mouths

just like. they don't. just skin down there.

It is mostly a defense mechanism: most predators in the end do not have the same kind of night vision enderman have, and hunt mostly by sound. Which means endermen children are uniquely silent and still most of the time.

The mouth does open with time - it fully opens around the time an enderman is fully matured. My ranboo, for example, still has his mouth kind of attatched by new lmanburg, and gets it fully open by the end of canon

children, not having mouths, cannot actually speak. They communicate mostly by vibrating (a purring kind of sound they produce with a secondary set of vocal cords that sits in their chest, just below their pearl. It can make a purring sound, a static kinda sound, and many many others), gesturing, and flapping of their secondary ears

their two sets of secondary ears are much smaller than the main set and will gradually disappear by the time they're like, 12 (which is also when the mouth is generally open Enough to start making sounds). Think of it like losing baby teeth.

And now, the star of the show (and the end of this post bc it is getting kind of long and i do actually need to study lmao)

BABY MAPLE!!!!

maple happens when Micheal is around thirteen (so think, 9 to 10 years after the end of the serie), and after a lot of things have happened in my regular canon

(For context, in that time period: The main villains (the egg and dream and dream xd) have all, separately, been defeated. Ranboo has been brought back to like, michael has lost his first two lives, the nukes have been launched, the apocalypse has happened for a few years, the dsmp as a political entity has been disbanded and every association to that has been made a bannable offense, our Main Cast beeduo family included has moved to a new, much normaler city, ranboo has discovered he's the long lost prince to the enderian empire and he has got a mother and a sister and he's actually even fucking richer than he was before, benchtrio has gotten a decent new life, michael has started elementary school and made a few friends, wilbur has gotten so much fucking therapy and is gradually trying to mend his relationship with his family. Not necessarily in that order).

At one point they just. decide to have a baby, just because, and michael is SUPER fucking on board with the idea. he loves the thought of a baby sibling, he adores the idea of having a partner iin crime, he's already decided the ways he will corrupt them to his side and use them to get more ice cream after dinner. he's happier about it than his parents tbh and they're really proud of that.

So they go to the end, and poof out baby maple with the usual enderian dark magic. Maple is a biological beeduo mix, and since my tubbo is a dragon hybrid, she's half enderman half dragon.

Given that she's made of end Dirt she's mostly enderman looking and deveopment wise, but she will grow wings at one point and her horns look a lot more like tubbo's than ranboo's.

Her name was given by tommy, because she has a cute little tail that looks like a maple leaf. He absolutely cried when they told him they're calling her maple, and he will deny this to his death.

They raised her pretty gender neutral because of the whole "endermen do not have gender thing" (and also bc in my minecraft world. people do not have gender at all mostly? Like sexes exist for human and human hybrids but there's a much much less strict gender spectrum) - but the second she was aware what gender identity was she fell in love with being a girl, and that was it. She was like, 6, but her opinion never changed much.

She becomes taller than michael by the time she's seven. He is adeguately horrified by that fact. She is still shorter than ranboo tho and it makes him gloat quite a bit.

She's very fem presenting, but she keeps her hair short by endermen tradition. (for enderman, the act of cutting one's hair is considered basic hygene. Not cutting it indicates grief, mourning, or a general tragedy big enough that you can't even take care of yourself. Ranboo, who still didn't remember this but did it by instincts, stopped cutting his hair after doomsday. Even decades post canon he keeps it super fucking long, out of the respect for the Goddess of Death that allowed his revival) (and also he thinks he looks relly fucking pretty with long hair) (he is right)

i have more thoughts but it Is 6 (six) pm so i am stopping. Good lick and very much thank you if you actually read my whole rambling lmao

[whatsaudreythinkingabout]

randomly assorted scott pilgrim headcanons!

(mostly involving roxy)

(some involving future scenarios)

envy & roxy have the same weak spot behind their knee. they are also girlfriends. this is the most important headcanon & i have a whole separate thing that goes more in-detail on this but this is all you need to know

kim is a huge tegan & sara fan (she’s from canada and definitely bi so it makes sense). she likes their earlier albums (since it takes place in the mid-2000s it would probably be around the time so jealous and/or the con were released), and when heartthrob and lytd came out she tried to pretend she hated the new pop sound but she secretly loves it.

lynette lost her arm while performing a show with tcad that brought the house down. literally. the frequency of the vibrations emitted from their performance was powerful enough to cause a minor earthquake, and while the band was trying to escape the venue, her arm was crushed by falling debris.

envy is bilingual, having grown up in montreal, and speaks both english and french.

roxy & matthew are best friends. however, when they first joined the league, they absolutely could not stand each other. each thought the other was totally obnoxious, and they would constantly bicker and fight with each other. they also definitely got into the pirates vs ninjas argument on more than one occasion. eventually, after a sparring match gone wrong, they bonded over the fact that ramona had used them in some form while they were dating her (matt for his powers, roxy for her sexuality), as well as their love of too much black eye makeup, and they’ve been inseperable ever since. they definitely have a partners-in-crime dynamic, and their friendship is 80% snark and 20% chaotic dumbass.

later on, lucas gets roped into their friendship as well, and they form an unstoppable friend trio. roxy sees him as a cool older brother type. matt has such a huge repressed crush on him you don’t even KNOW and roxy teases him about it literally all the time

after the events of the series, they form a 3-piece punk band called roxy & the hooligans (title derived from a book i read when i was a kid). roxy is the lead singer and bassist (she learned how to play out of pure spite just to flex on scott & todd), matt is lead guitarist & backup vocalist, and lucas is the drummer. matt is also their special effects/pyrotechnics guy.

they’re also housemates for a little while, then matt & lucas start dating and roxy moves in with envy when they start dating. of course, this does not affect their friendship, and they have double dates frequently.

after she starts dating envy, roxy also forms another best friend group with julie powers and lisa miller. at first envy is worried roxy and julie won’t get along bc she thinks julie will be jealous of roxy for “stealing” envy’s attention, but they end up bonding over their shared hatred of scott.

lisa and roxy are identical twins who were separated at birth. (this was bc they’re both portrayed by mae whitman but i might retcon this one, idk)

meanwhile, roxy & todd actually, genuinely HATE each other. todd was always kind of a bully to her when she was in the league & she hates how much he gets on her nerves. to make up for it she loves to rub in his face how much he fumbled the bag with envy

envy was genuinely hurt by lynette going behind her back with todd bc she thought they were friends. lynette is pretty indifferent about it.

after the events of the comic, ramona starts a support group for all the women affected by gideon.

envy is a natural redhead, but started dyeing it blonde once she had her big rockstar makeover, and often alternates between the two shades.

(tentative, still figuring out whether i wanna make this a full headcanon) roxy is a natural brunette, but dyed (and maybe also cut) her hair after ramona broke up with her, as the gays™ are known to do. she also used to wear her hair in space buns instead of pigtails (whaat nooo this totally wasn’t inspired by spinel what are you talking about)

roxy doesn’t really care about the spelling of her name; she spells it with a “y” and with an “ie.” (alternate idea: she spelled it with an ie before the breakup and with a y after the breakup?)

barbie movies exist in this canon, and envy recorded “hope has wings” for the magic of pegasus when she was a teen (back when she was still going by natalie) but she’s super embarrassed about it. she has literally done everything in her power to hide it, but as soon as her friends find out about it they refuse to let her live it down.

likewise, finally out of pe exists in this verse except now it’s just part of envy’s early discography, which she wrote before she formed TCAD.

technically the events of the story happened at the same time the early barbie movies & brie’s album came out but we can afford to move the timelines around a lil bit just for funsies

kim created the maid costume herself, & she’s a closet geek/cosplayer. later on she & envy end up bonding over their secret nerdy sides.

she’s also a closet theatre kid

roxy is the kind of person that tries to put on a tough front to avoid getting hurt & being seen as weak but if you give her even one (1) single tiny bit of affection she will instantly fall apart (especially if you happen to be a pretty girl)

when gideon was messing with everybody’s memories, he ended up causing a rift in the universe that caused the timeline to branch into two separate realities (the books and the movie, respectively). when he was defeated, they merged into one again, but the characters now have memories from both realities. it’s a little confusing

wallace ends up getting together with stephen later on (maybe? they seem like they’d have a fun dynamic), and they’re happy together, but once wallace finds out about matt & lucas dating he’s so fucking salty about it bc HE HAD A CHANCE WITH LUCAS LEE THIS WHOLE TIME

ramona eventually becomes the lead singer of shatterband. scott & kim decide the two-person lineup isn’t working out for them; they need a frontman, someone with charisma to tie them all together. then they hear a voice coming from the bedroom. they go to investigate and find ramona singing softly to herself. she’s a bit hesitant to join at first bc she’s not super confident about singing in front of others, but they manage to convince her by telling her how she could totally one-up envy.

matthew is a proud, unabashed theatre kid. roxy is the kind of person who acts like she absolutely despises theatre kids (even tho she’s really just as melodramatic as matt but won’t admit it) until karaoke night rolls around & she suddenly knows all the songs

roxy is a mixed media artist & is proficient in quite a few different techniques, but her specialty is graffiti. since being a ninja takes a lot of discipline & she often got criticized for letting her emotions get the better of her, it gives her an outlet to be more uninhibited.

the twins are pretty aloof & don’t really talk to anyone else besides themselves; they just kinda do their own thing while viewing everyone else with either mutual respect or smug superiority. gideon doesn’t really give a shit about the other league members, but the twins are his “favorites” (relatively speaking) just bc of how efficient & powerful they are

scott & ramona end up in sort of a semi-throuple with kim. no one really knows what their exact situation is; whether they’re an open relationship, friends with benefits, or just officially all dating each other, but wherever they are, kim is usually also there, & they don’t question it. (honestly the more i think about it the more i like the idea of polyamorous ramona just bc there’s so many characters i ship her with)

maybe wallace also gets involved. just for funsies

in the future, roxy ends up taking knives on as her ninja protégé. as a mentor, she’s pretty no-nonsense bc she wants her to be able to reach her full potential, but she also tries to keep her temper in check & not be overly harsh on her just bc of what she went through in her own training (at the ninja academy she was looked down upon for her half-ninja status & constantly belittled for being too soft, undisciplined, emotional, etc. which caused her to push herself to the brink of total physical and mental exhaustion to prove them wrong, & that led to her parents pulling her out bc they were worried she was gonna push herself so hard it would kill her, & that whole situation is the main source of most of her insecurities). at first she’s put off by how relentlessly upbeat knives is, but then she sees how eager she is to make her proud & roxy can’t help but see a bit of herself in her. over time she comes to see her as sort of a kid sister, especially when knives eventually comes out to her, though she refuses to admit how much of a soft spot she actually has for her. she knows knives can handle herself, but she’s also grown more than a little protective of her (and scott is terrified of her for this reason)

i have a LOT of other HCs regarding specific backstories/relationship dynamics/etc that i might post later if i get the motivation for it but these are just some of my shorter ones