#『 blog / asks. 』 ❝ it came from the mailbox. ❞

[ask-freaky-jimmy]

With a swift sort-of knock that was almost too soft as if coy, there ends up being a short post-it note slipped into the inbox.

"How's the freaky scale there? Seemed rather interesting to say the least so thought I'd gauge ya~" The note is written on a round yellow note paper with loopy lettering that flowed together.

🐈‍⬛🌕

*imagine a princess celestia type 'got sent a letter' entrance; putting your message in the inbox made it appear and fall to Jimmy inside His home* {you distinctly didn't say mailbox like this was real in the rp lol}

Heheh, oh you have no idea. *Jimbo grabs His green pen {black ink} and pretty pink paper, writing a response letter; "I think most people would consider me a degenerate, if that gives you an idea. maybe a sex addict, but it hasn't killed me yet so I'm having a great time. My picked poison is a large shelf of choices, care to share a glass with me? XOXO" and a lipstick kiss on the corner of the note made it perfect.*

No one can say I'm a dry texter, even over paperback. *He made Himself laugh before somehow transporting the letter to the person it was directed to.*

[crimsonfacets]

@grandvizier asked: 🐶

munday no-no and yes-yes list

Let me think..

Send  🐶 for a role play related pet peeve.

Folk who come around just for romantic shipping purposes. It's happened to me a few times and it feels just awful to deal with. I love shipping, I do, but the chemistry needs to be right, or my friendship with that person needs to be pretty old for comfort's sake. Respect & understanding of our characters relationship needs to be a two-way street between us writers when we're that far down the road.

I don't apply this rule to muses who are flirty and/or sleazy by default, casanovas and the like - that sort of behavior is expected and I am totally fine with it. Goodness knows I have a few myself! And naturally, this doesn't apply to characters who are married/together by default in canon (Trisha & Hohenheim for example). But, I can usually tell who comes around just for ship plugging. Can't do it!

[hypnobeauty]

a chance encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 14?)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. masterlist cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, reflections, my rusty writing. a/n: hi…. is anyone here? *blows dust off blog* i’m back, i guess! sorry for taking so long. this is not an actual update, just a little snippet—future in thailand, more reader focused! honestly, i’m not happy with the way the “official” story went lol so these past months i’ve been writing on and off, random things; planning on posting them. i hope you enjoy it! this piece was slightly based on me: the stray cat, the moving countries, the kettle left by the previous renter owner. as usual, comments are always welcome xx love, lika taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia @antisocial-aina @googie-jeon @christinamadsen @deernat @vvlwvvy @psychobitchsthings @dikeu-yoiz (are u still interested? lemme know!)

part 14. stamped and sealed

the air was thick with the kind of warmth that settled in your skin and stayed there, fragrant with lemongrass and sun-warmed dust, a familiar welcome you’d come to expect each morning. a breeze moved lazily through the still air, carrying the sharp, peppery scent of grilled skewers and roasted chili from the street vendors three blocks down, who had already begun firing up their stalls in preparation for the dinner crowd. you stood barefoot on the porch, sipping iced tea from a glass that sweat in the heat, condensation trickling slowly down your fingers.

the stray cat with the stubby tail—now semi-adopted, unofficially christened meatball—padded through the garden with a sense of haughty ownership. she sniffed the bougainvillea blooms, then went in your direction, weaving through your legs with a lazy meow. you had tried to move her in completely, but she scratched the door the whole night until you gave in and opened it at 3 am. meatball is perfectly content in existing around you two, asking for food or chin scritches, and napping on the sofa during the afternoon, but refusing to let go of her freedom and right to come and go as she pleases. you often wondered if it could be a metaphor for something.

all of it was. this house, with its stained concrete, and one light switch that always sparked if you flicked it too fast. it wasn’t love at first sight. at least, not for hyun‑ju. you’d seen the house online first, in a grainy listing photo that made her scoff. “it looks like a ghost lives there,” she had said.

still, when you’d arrived for the showing—her trailing behind with her arms crossed and a skeptical scowl—you’d pushed open the metal gate, walked up the overgrown path, and something about it had clicked into place. as if it had been waiting for you. as if you had been waiting for it.

the house sat halfway down a sleepy residential street in lat phrao, flanked by a gleaming white villa boasting a koi pond and a stately two‑story residence with ornate columns and a marble mailbox. and then there was this—your potential forever home. it looked like it had been abandoned for decades or forgotten by time as a deliberate act of defiance. 

you stepped onto cracked porch tiles; each footfall stirred up dust motes that danced in the afternoon sun. the yard was a jungle of overgrown grass and defiant weeds. the paint on the façade had surrendered years ago, flaking in tired strips. half the floor tiles in the entryway were either cracked or missing entirely, and the roof… 

“skylight?” you said, pointing at the bizarre sheet of cloudy plastic covering the ceiling, one hand on your hip, the other waving dramatically.

hyun‑ju’s eyes widened in disbelief. “that’s a tarp, babe. a tarp glued to the ceiling.”

the owner, an old woman with a bent back and warm, crinkling eyes, came forward with surprising grace. she rubbed her hands together and smiled at you both. “my son bought me a nice condo close by, and this old thing… well, i’m too old to take care of it now. it needs someone strong. someone young. someone who can make it happy again.”

her voice was gentle, her affection tangible—a mixture of joy and longing, and suddenly you missed your mom so much. that unexpected tenderness softened the moment. hyun‑ju’s brow furrowed as she watched the way the woman traced her hand over cracked wood and you noticed her jaw soften by the slightest millimeter.

back in your bangkok rental—a shoebox of an apartment wedged between a laundromat and a perpetually closed café—you both had to shuffle sideways to move past one another. the walls were thin, the fan made a noise like a dying blender, and your bed was only a mattress on the floor, pressed up against a window that didn’t close all the way. still, it was home for the moment. the kind of home that madehyun-ju long for something a little more permanent… but also made her break out in hives every time she thought about the financials.

you sat cross-legged on the laminate floor, legs brushing hers, while she opened her laptop like it was a vault of secrets. her expression was all business, pencil already wedged between her teeth like a cigarette. “okay,” she muttered under her breath, flipping open the calculator and opening three different tabs simultaneously. “roofing first. that tarp is not a long-term solution unless you want a waterfall feature in the bathroom.”

“it’s basically a spa experience already,” you offered with a toothy smile.

she didn’t look up. “no.”

“fair.”

she began listing line items aloud as she punched in numbers. “roof — professional job, has to be. i’m guessing 50,000 baht minimum. plumbing... looks okay. pressure’s decent, no obvious leaks. electrical? might be old, but no shorts, no sparks. so far, not terrible. cosmetic stuff we can do ourselves if we plan it out right.”

you peeked over her shoulder. “see? that’s not so bad.”

she side-eyed you, “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

you giggled and leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “that’s what i’m banking on.”

still, she soldiered on. for over an hour, she ran different combinations—worst-case costs, best-case budgets, everything in between. she triple-checked estimated contractor fees and local supply prices, even converted it all to won just to see the damage in your own currency. “it’s still cheaper than anything else we’ve seen,” she admitted at last, voice softer now, more measured. “and at least we’d have space to breathe. i’m so sick of tripping over our laundry basket every time i turn around.”

you sat up, blinking at her. “so… is that a yes?”

she narrowed her eyes, but her tone had already turned. “you’ll help with the renovations?”

“i’ll lead them.”

she rolled her eyes in fake annoyance. “you’re impossible.”

you clasped your hands together like a cartoon character. “and yet so lovable!”

hyunju took a long sip of water and finally—finally—gave you the smallest nod.

“alright. fine. but i swear, if a raccoon falls through that tarp ‘skylight,’ i’m divorcing you before we’re even married.” you didn’t need more than that.

you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around her and tackling her gently to the ground, peppering her face with kisses. “you won’t regret it! you won’t! this is going to be our house! our home!”

she laughed beneath you, heartily this time, not the soft chuckle of skepticism but the real thing. her eyes crinkled at the corners as she pushed your hair out of your face.

“yeah,” she murmured, smiling. “ours.”

you bought it that same week. the old woman had insisted you take the kettle she kept on the stove. “for luck,” she said in thai, smiling as she patted your hand. you still used it, it whistled a little off-key when it boiled, like it was trying to sing.

after you left the games that november, bank accounts heavy and heart heavier, you and hyunju had counted every won like it was prayer. the money had never felt real—not when you received the non-descriptive cards with your names on it, or when you stacked it in front of you. but the moment you paid off the debt collectors, the hospital bills, the loans, and the tiny balances that haunted both of your inboxes like ghosts, the sum that remained—₩152 million—finally took on shape.

it wasn’t life-changing in seoul. not anymore, not in a city that churned ambition for breakfast and swallowed dreams by dinner. there, it would’ve barely gotten you a studio apartment in a decent neighborhood, it would’ve dried up before you had time to exhale.

but in bangkok?

in bangkok, it was a door cracked open.

it was enough to buy the house, outright—decrepit as it was. enough to pay for visa work, for paperwork translations, for the endless bureaucratic loops you had to leap through in a country that wasn’t yet yours but was slowly becoming home. it was enough to exhale, for once. to put down your bags without preparing to pick them up again.

and that was what you wanted now; not the sleek life, not the sterile shine of high-rise condos with fingerprint locks and white-leather everything, not the rooftop bars or instagram dinners or stilettos worn to impress. you had chased that version of adulthood once—when success looked like gloss and your worth was measured in how many nights you worked overtime without crying. you didn’t want it anymore.

you wanted the slow.

you wanted mornings that began with birdcalls and sunlight slicing through broken blinds. you wanted afternoons sticky with heat and iced tea sweating in your hand. you wanted cicadas in the trees, rain drumming soft on metal, the smell of fish sauce wafting from the neighbor’s open kitchen window. you wanted to sit on cracked tiles and argue over paint swatches, to fall asleep with the ceiling fan humming above you and her leg tangled with yours.

you wanted to hear hyunju’s laughter ring out in echoing, empty rooms, you wanted to fill them together.

even if the walls needed mending, even if the plumbing groaned and the roof still leaked when it rained too hard, it didn’t matter.

because you wanted her.

that had always been the constant. from the moment she pressed a drink into your hand at the edge of some party neither of you belonged to. from the first time she rolled her eyes and called you dramatic while secretly tucking your hair behind your ear. from every night she pulled you in closer instead of away.

you wanted her in every version of your life: the old ones, the ones you left behind, the ones you were building now.

and everything else—the ghosts, the names you still couldn’t speak aloud, the final click of the game’s vote on november 24th, the gunshots that still made your shoulder flinch in your sleep—all of it slowly began to dissolve in the soft hum of your days together.

there were hard nights, sure. there were moments when the silence felt too wide, when one of you would wake up gasping from a dream neither could explain, when you remembered young-mi. but you held each other through those, too. you learned to live in spite of the memory. maybe even because of it.

because of cho hyun-ju.

because of the way she always handed you the second-to-last bite of her food, saving the last one for herself like a secret. because she left you little notes on the fridge when she left early—terrible drawings of cartoon animals or scribbled reminders to eat the food she made. because she  reached for your hand under the table when in a room full of strangers, and never once let go until you told her you were okay.

because of her, your life had become something warmer, gentler.

because of hyunju, you had a partner who stood beside you, not in front, not behind. someone who built with you, laughed with you, argued and cried and tried with you. she made the ordinary feel like magic. and you loved her in the quietest ways—through laundry folded without being asked, tea poured before you even reached the kitchen, a towel warmed and waiting after every shower.

and she loved you right back. fiercely, patiently, like you were worth everything she had. your name wasn’t next to hers on any official document—not yet. but it was written into her habits, her language, the way she said "we" when planning anything. it was in the way she said "you first" and meant it.

the tea was growing warm in your hand when you heard the gate rattle: the metal screeched and the lock gave its familiar clunk. you turned, smiling already, heart rising with the familiar sound of her gait.

not because of where you were, or what the house looked like. but because she was here and  with hyunju, even a half-finished house felt like a whole world.

[wildemaven]

life and loss | joel miller

pairing: dave york x f!reader / joel miller x f!reader word count: 1k content warnings: 18+ blog; death, grief/loss, major character death (no description of said death), AU and crossover universes, kind of fluffy, navigating loss, reader is non descriptive/blank slate. notes: this randomly came to me yesterday on my walk. It was meant to be just a moodboard and a small blurb to go along with it… and then this happened. Oops! Tried to pack a lot into a small thing so hopefully it makes sense.

Momentos of him, your late husband, have remained tucked away for the last year following his unexpected death. As you settle into your new widowed life and new home over a thousand miles away from the life you created with Dave, all the beautiful memories reside in cardboard boxes out of sight. 

Word travels quickly through the small neighborhood about your arrival and marital status— or lack thereof. Welcoming introductions turn into unannounced check-ins and flowers. Uncomfortable small talk on your front porch is sprinkled throughout the following weeks, a hand on your shoulder accentuates their let us know if you need anything. Sympathetic casseroles finally dwindle allowing you to finally ease into this new season of your life. 

The hammock left by the previous owners becomes your sanctuary most evenings. Searching for the brightest star in the night’s sky, then asking Dave how he’s doing before reading aloud to him the words from your latest book. 

It's days later when you’ve read the final word that a small voice from over the fence manifests as a quirky teenage girl sitting at a table you’ve set up on your back patio. She has a million and one questions about the book and is filled with theories about what happens beyond its ending. The side gate is never regularly latched closed now, eagerly awaiting Ellie’s return. She navigates most of your late night conversations that follow, including personal stories and the history of her life. My grump of an old man is in construction. He’s single by the way— not by choice, but life happens. 

His voice is calloused the first time he makes his presence known to you. Goddamn it, Ellie! I told you to leave her alone! They exchange brittle words back and forth through the shared barrier, before you insist he join the two of you. The crunch of his boots on the ground stall when he towers over where you’re still seated. His hand engulfing yours, warm and gentle as he tries to determine where his gaze should fall— you, the ground, the smirking teenager sitting across from you. Joel. Joel Miller. Uh, Ellie n’ I live next door. Not sure how long she’s been botherin’ you, but I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.

It’s weeks later when you run into Joel at the mailboxes. The clanking of keys and squeaky hinges fill the space between you before you’re both retreating back to your respective pathways. Your hands fidget and twist the bills and letters from your parents when you bravely initiate a conversation before he’s able to reach his front door. She’s the first person since moving here who wanted to talk to me about something other than the death of my husband. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I have with her in a long time. She’s welcome over here anytime. 

He reeks of nervousness as he stands on your doorstep the following evening. The ambered hue of his eyes absorb the warmth from the front porch light, adding a brightness to them that they seem to be commonly lacking. His words waver a bit as he begins to speak, starting and stopping, scrubbing his hand down his face before he attempts to start again. You offer him nothing but patience, sensing the mournful energy radiating off him— similar to the one you’ve been carrying. My wife and older daughter— they were both in an accident on their way to Sarah’s soccer game. I was pickin’ up Ellie from her counseling group for adopted kids. We were headin’ to the soccer field when I got the call. Some days are harder than others. And everyone wants to help, however that may be— lots of food as I’m sure you know. It doesn’t ever really get easier, but you learn to live with grief. Anyways, if you ever need anything or just want to talk— you know where I live.  

He accepts your impulsive invitation to join you for dinner, offering him the open seat across from you in the same spot as your timid first meeting. The crickets orchestrate the evening ambience as you share stories you’d tucked away, too painful to revisit until now. You find you laugh just as much, if not more, with Joel. Even among the tears shed, the conversation is filled with a hope and optimism that you longed for. 

You still feel his wholesome embrace long after you’ve called it a night to seek out much needed sleep. But much like the nights that ensued after Dave’s death, loneliness and the weight of your grief rear its head. 

The black ink glides over the surface of the paper. Line after line formulated a year’s worth of unsaid words that had been bottled up and blockaded by the rigid walls you’d built around them. Joel was right about the therapeutic effect of getting rid of the burdensome thoughts that come with loss, finding it’s hard to stop now that you’ve started. 

You convey the love that you still carry for Dave, something you’ll never willfully ignore or regret. It feels wrong but you touch on the hatred you feel towards his death; you hate him for leaving you, hate that you miss him, hate that some nights you forget the small details that you cherished about him. You tell him about Joel and the kindness he’s afforded you in a short time of knowing him and that there’s life beyond losing the love of your life. To look for the light even when shrouded by darkness. 

Pictures and trinkets find their way out of the cardboard confines Joel helped pull out from the guest room closet. The bare walls now filled with familiar faces and shelves adorn with colorful memories that you tried so hard to keep hidden. 

Joel and Ellie being a constant presence in your life allows you to see that life can surprise you when you least expect it and there’s room for new love. 

[catboymoments]

Different anon here. I understand people being upset and angry, but I was in Ukraine when the war started. My family were lucky enough to get out but so many others weren't, we spent so long worrying, working on humanitarian efforts and such, and we still make sure now to donate to other causes such as Gaza.

But although I myself came away with it with open eyes and a strong desire to help, my brother wasn't the same. He's quite a bit younger and was so deeply traumatised from everything we all saw. He had nightmares for months after, and always acted as if the war could crawl into Germany (where we stayed for over a year before we moved to the US to be with family).

He refused to put his backpack away at school and always kept it in arm's reach, he hoarded snacks under his mattress, he all but shut down at school and resisted learning German but at the same time shied away from other Ukrainian students because he couldn't hear the war stories without a panic. And he insisted on waiting by the mailbox, outside, backpack at the ready waiting for news from his old best friend (which we still haven't really gotten; we hope they made it to another country and just haven't wanted to stay in touch).

When we made it to America, we got him some help thanks to charity and put more into teaching him English and he's starting to recover, making friends at his newest school and finally feeling safe. All this Gaza stuff is not helping though. He's fourteen now and his classmates at high school keep sending him things on Instagram or Discord or text messages about the war with no warning or spoiler tags. Many times my parents have taken his phone away, but he has a couple other friends from Ukraine and Germany he needs to stay in contact with so they can't bear to do it for long. He can't block them either because apparently fourteen year olds take it as an affront on the friendship, and often we are late due to having one car between the four of us to attend different places (my parents and I to our jobs, my brother to school) and by far the easiest way to get that cleared is having him message someone in the same class to tell the teacher in advance if we're stuck in traffic.

Some bots have caught wind and have sent some pretty horrific things, to the point where even a simple fundraiser post (often with rightful messages of desperation) can wind him all the way back.

I understand both perspectives, as someone who survived a war zone and as someone who has seen the many different ways it impacts people. It's trauma, plain and simple. And during these times, especially with the election, people need to engage with the world safely. My brother likes your Owl House content and I make sure to send it to him by message so that that's all he sees, but not everyone has something like that.

Of course, it's up to you. Making this blog safer for Gazans with firsthand trauma is probably going to do more long-term good than sparing others secondhand trauma. I'm just asking you to consider all angles here.

Sorry if I have mixed up everything, English is my third language and I asked my mom to proof it (whose English is a lot stronger as she has a talkative job these days, but is still not her mother tounge).

Oh I didn’t. Think of it from this perspective. Thank you for telling me this, I was wrong and I’m sorry.

[germany-beer-ask]

!NAVIGATION POST!/!НАВИГАЦИОННЫЙ ПОСТ! (rus/eng)

「I also decided to try blogging on Tumblr. In between jobs, I'll always be happy to talk about something or answer your questions

As I said before, I may not be able to answer your question right away due to work, but my mailbox is always open for you all

You can ask me anything, I don't have any criteria or rules, I came here to relax and chat」

『Я также решил попробовать вести блог на Tumblr. В перерывах между работой я всегда буду рад поговорить о чем-нибудь или ответить на ваши вопросы.

Как я уже говорил, из-за работы я могу не сразу ответить на ваш вопрос, но мой почтовый ящик всегда открыт для вас.

Вы можете спрашивать меня о чем угодно, у меня нет никаких критериев или правил, я пришёл сюда, чтобы расслабиться и поболтать』

OOC: Это правка в вс��упительный пост. Я заметила, что многие авторы АСК-блогов простенько, бездумно отвечают на вопросы читателей, пытаясь угадать и подстроиться под характер отыгрываемого персонажа. Это выглядит вполне стандартно, но очень скучно. Оформление/вступление тоже не особо креативно, поэтому я решила это исправить. Я добавила анкету Людвига. Здесь много отсылок на каноничные факты, так и на добавленное и додуманное от себя. Некое АУ с элементами своей собственной сюжетной линии. Я буду иногда раскрывать историю Людвига, через его глаза и восприятие. Мне всегда казалось, что Германия – не совсем обычная страна. Поэтому это не только блог, но и история персонажа(с элементами его психологических проблем и чувств). Можете считать эти правки как то, что Химаруя не показал бы в аниме-сериале.

OOC: This is an edit to the opening post. I've noticed that many ASK blog authors answer readers' questions in a simple, thoughtless way, trying to guess and adjust to the character being played. It looks pretty standard, but it's very boring. The layout/introduction isn't particularly creative either, so I decided to fix that. I added Ludwig's profile. There's a lot of references to canon facts, as well as added and finalized from myself. A sort of AU with elements of my own, storyline. I will occasionally reveal Ludwig's story, through his eyes and perceptions. I've always felt that Germany is not a very ordinary country. So this is not only a blog, but also a character's story (with elements of his psychological problems and feelings). You can consider these edits as something Himaruya wouldn't show in an anime series

Анкета:

Translation:

Ludwig (FRG, Germany,Doitsu)

Gender: he/him ♂

Pansexual

Age: 23 years old

Height: 5'11" (180 centimeters)

Character/facts:

Stingy with emotions, has anger issues. Often in an irritable state. Very fond of salty food. Does not like empty spaces or mazes. Can talk in his sleep at night. Left eyebrow is slightly scratched. Strongly anxious around strangers. Has good intuition, so is prudent in everything. When traveling or walking, can get lost and lost, go to a completely unknown place. Chemophile, dependent on cleanliness and freshness. Never drinks warm water.

For work and workouts, he prefers sneakers. For walking, boots. Sometimes smokes for stress.He's very fond of simulation games. He can draw beautifully, but-...He won't show anything else but sketches. He has a likeness of a choker with a German cross on it. Sometimes lies without realizing it. He a̲̖̹̠̳ͩ̂f̡̫͓̻̖̖̉r̗͍̦̦͈̭̳ͪ͜a͚̫̻̺͊͗i͓͛̓̃̍̕ḓ͈̺̞ͮ͂͋̏ ̜͔̊͞ loves his brother.

He doesn't like the sea.

Things in the bag:

Often carries cold drinks with him

Takes a needle and thread just in case

Coffee packets

Cigarettes

Lighter

Peppermint gum

Pills

Ура, теперь наконец о собаках:3

Yay, now finally about the dogs:3

Берлиц –

золотистый ретривер

Блэки –

немецкая овчарка

Астер –

такса

eng:

Berlitz –

golden retriever

Blackie –

german shepherd

Aster –

dachshund

Вторая любовь:D ⤵️

Black Forest Cherry Cake✨💞

[fisheadz]

I love the idea of the ism everyone lives AU squad all being friends post-game, like:

• Max and Virginia insulting each other like siblings.

• Allen throwing away Max’s cigarettes without him noticing, and hiding the lighters if he can’t get to the cigarettes.

• Virginia finding every blog or book or whathaveyou on cats for Desmond and either spamming his inbox or mailbox, or visiting him with her findings, like she’s an informant or smt, folders and all.

• ^ Desmond is both very amused and impressed by her huge collection of all things cat.

• Lucas and Allen hanging out as two very isolated and guilt-ridden bros, chatting over drinks and laughing about silly things.

• Max and Desmond being not-quite-friends but also being besties at the same time. No one is sure why this is, not even them, but at least they aren’t at each others throats like Max and Lucas.

• ^ Lucas and Max absolutely cannot stand each other, in most circumstances. Constant arguing and trying to one-up the other. They don’t hate each other, but they don’t particularly like each other either. The others aren’t sure if it’s because of what happened at the factory, but they aren’t planning on intervening any time soon, since they aren’t killing each other just yet.

• Once Max needed a babysitter for Maddy, and had Allen look after her for a couple hours. He came back to Allen ducktaped to the wall, Maddy painting on his face. It took another ten minutes for Max to free Allen, due to his hysterical laughter.

• ^ Allen is terrified of the little girl, now, and she absolutely knows and takes advantage of it. Every time they see each other she messes with him and Max couldn’t be more proud.

• Desmond has an issue with some electric system or another in his apartment building and instead of trying to get his shitty landlord to fix it, he asks Lucas to help. The lights haven’t worked this good in forever.

• Virginia and Allen are the bestest friends. They hang out at least once a week, and just chill and chat about whatever.

• Lucas and Max always give Dave a side eye, just to remind him that Virginia’s friends are not afraid to commit crime. This terrifies the man, but he not really worried, since Virginia could kick their asses probably.

• Desmond and Lucas are mildly pining, and neither of them realize it. The others know, as outwardly it’s very obvious, but even if they did know about the other’s crush, they wouldn’t really change their dynamic. They’re comfortable being friends, and they aren’t pursing any romantic relationship at the moment. Not that that’s gonna stop their friends from subtly teasing them.

• ^ there’s a running bet going on between Virginia and Max, on who can be the most obvious with their teasing. Max is winning, but not by much.

• Lucas and Virginia have "half girls nights" where they hangout at one of their homes and gossip and stuff, do their nails. Lucas is surprisingly good at applying makeup. Virginia hadn’t felt this pretty in decades.

• Allen lands Max a spot as a mechanic, and Max has pledged his undying loyalty to the man. They still have a sort of unspoken rivalry going on, but they can bond over cars like longtime besties.

• They all go out for drinks whenever their schedules line up. Allen is typically the sober friend.

• Desmond, Lucas and Virginia all geeking out over video games, making fan theories and headcanons and AU’s. Virginia starts a blog about it, and it has amassed quite the following.

• They all have some leftover bad feelings from the "event", and call each other frequently to reassure each other and themselves. Allen especially, which gives Desmond no small amount of anxiety.

• ^ Desmond still isn’t happy with himself for missing Allen’s call, but Allen never held any grudge. He’s mostly just happy to be alive and well, and that the others got away safe as well.

• Dave and Allen will drop whatever they’re doing to chat if they see each other. They don’t meet often, due to work and stuff, but when they do, all you can do is wait until they get done talking, as nothing short of an earthquake can cut the convo short.

• ^ Desmond and Dave are also bros, but are more chill about it.

• Tonia is everyone’s emotional support kitty, and she loves the attention. It’s a win-win for everyone.

I can’t think of anything else rn, it is 4am for me, but when I do… hehe.

[fallenlightsif]

do the speak now (tv) album ask for this blog too 👀 i have to know what songs my blorbos relate to

Ofc anon 🙏

Mine: MC/Marcella

"Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time; you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter; you are the best thing, that's ever been mine"

Sparks Fly: MC/Florian

"I'm captivated by you, baby, like a fireworks show; drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain; kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain; cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile"

Back to December: MC/E

"I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't; so if the chain is on your door, I understand"

Speak Now: Kira

"So don't say yes, run away now; I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door"

Dear John: Rowan

"But I took your matches before fire could catch me so don't look now; I'm shining like fireworks over your sad empty town"

Mean: MC @ their mom

"You, with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you use against me; you have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like I'm nothing"

The Story of Us: MC/E

"Oh, I'm scared to see the ending, why are we pretending this is nothing? I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how, I've never heard silence quite this loud"

Never Grow Up: Ezrah & MC

"To you, everything's funny, you got nothing to regret; I'd give all I have, honey, if you could stay like that"

Enchanted: MC/Florian

"There I was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles, same old tired, lonely place; walls of insincerity, shifting eyes, and vacancy vanished when I saw your face"

Better Than Revenge: Ilaria

"Sophistication isn't what you wear, or who you know, or pushing people down to get you where you wanna go; they didn't teach you that in prep school, so it's up to me"

Innocent: Orion

"Did some things you can't speak of, but at night you live it all again; you wouldn't be shattered on the floor now if only you had seen what you know now then"

Haunted: Rowan

"It's getting dark and it's all too quiet and I can't trust anything now and it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake"

Last Kiss: MC/E

"I hope the sun shines, and it's a beautiful day, and something reminds you, you wish you had stayed; you can plan for a change in the weather and time but I never planned on you changing your mind"

Long Live: The Childhood Friends (Florian, MC, Marcella, and E)

"Hold on to spinning around, confetti falls to the ground, may these memories break our fall"

Ours: Orion/MC

"They'll judge it like they know about me and you; and the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do; the jury's out, but my choice is you"

Superman: MC/Cier

"He's not all bad like his reputation and I can't hear one single word they said; you leave, got places to be, and I'll be okay"

Electric Touch: MC/Julian

"I've got my money on things goin' badly, got a history of stories ending sadly; still hoping that the fire won't burn me just one time"

When Emma Falls in Love: Ari

"She won't walk away unless she knows she absolutely has to leave; and she's the kind of book that you can't put down, like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town"

I Can See You: MC/Cier

"I can see you waitin' down the hall from me, and I could see you up against the wall with me; and what would you do, baby, if you only knew?"

Castles Crumbling: Ilaria

"Ones I loved tried to help, so I ran them off; and here I sit alone behind walls of regret, falling down like promises that I never kept"

Foolish One: Dimitri

"And the voices say, “you are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson”; foolish one, stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come"

Timeless: Orion/MC

"That's when I came upon a book covered in cobwebs, story of a romance torn apart by fate; hundreds of years ago, they fell in love, like we did, and I'd die for you in the same way"

[skyeslittlecorner]

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hell~

After all this time, maybe I should finally introduce myself. Skye here, an overworked college student who came here just to scream into space about sexy demons. Ah, and writer. In my free time I write fanfiction and other little things because I want to get rid of my shyness and learn to write in English a little bit. Brief proofreading, mostly I put whatever is in my mind on paper. Keyboard. Oh, you know. Despite everything, I try to write for you as best as I can. Except I can't, but I'm working on it.

About blog

As you can see, the blog is dedicated to What in "Hell" is Bad? game. The game itself is 18+, as is this blog, so please include age information in your bio. Also, this place is not spoiler-free, although I always clearly warn about them and place below the cut.

What can you mainly expect here?

🧡 Fanfics, both longer stories and short headcannons

🧡 Lore and characters analysis

🧡 Thoughts or shortcuts from events and the main story

🧡 Admiration for Andrealphus out of the blue shh i'm not obsessed-

🧡 I don't repost much, if I do it's mostly other people's art

Asks and requests

Status: Closed

If you want to talk or ask anything, go ahead! DM or askbox, do as you please. The mailbox may be closed for requests, but it is always open if you just want to chat.

🧡 Simple headcanons and scenarios - up to 4 days

🧡 Longer scenarios or for more characters - 5-6 days

🧡 Legit fanfics (usually ~800-1200 words) - 7-10 days

For short headcanons, please specify up to 5 devils you'd most like to see!

Of course, the time may vary depending on my private matters, but I will keep you updated. Any changes will be in this post so you don't have to search a lot between other things.

UPDATE (28.10.2024)

Back after a break! Slowly sorting things out and catch up with everything. Update soon~

Masterlist

[stormypip7]

Introduction to My Blog!

last updated: 18/06/25 !!!

Hey there, I'm Stormypip7! I'm an artist and I play games that I like! :]

I'm neutral-leaning in ship-related discourse, but I will block people if they make me uncomfortable! I don't really mind what you ship in fiction: as long as it doesn't affect real people and as long as you understand that reality isn't as forgiving in many cases.

art schedule for june whilst i combat art block:

these are art weeks that i plan on taking part in, but i will have more free time for art requests from the 25th June!

I DESPISE REBLOG BAIT. I TRY NOT TO REBLOG IT, WHEN I DO ITS TAGGED.

tagging system:

-sp7's too much to handle au (my life series superpowers au tag)

-sp7's non art reblogs (my reblog tag for this account)

-sp7's rambling tag (my talking tag)

-sp7 does art things (my art tag, older art found under 'my art' and 'art')

-sp7's nostalgia tag (what i tag stuff with that's about old games i like, at least, when i remember to use it)

-sp7's fe self insert (NEW! self explanatory, tag for my self insert for fire emblem)

-sp7's qna event (tag for my qna event for reaching over 100 followers, as voted on by 11/ 12 people; event is over but i'll always be accepting asks either way in case you missed it)

-sp7's fates!macbeth au (ultra self-explanatory)

-[the imposter games] (tag for my weird modded among us oc thing. idk but im working on redesigning the characters. there are literally 24 of them so yknow.)

Please check out my other blogs, which can be found under the misc section!

(Hyperfixation list and misc section below the cut!)

fandoms i'm in:

*keep in mind that I do lurk in some fandoms, mainly the ones I don't really draw for; and this list is NOT the same as the hyperfixation list.

UT/DR, Danganronpa, Pokémon, Fire Emblem, Gravity Falls, Phineas and Ferb, The Life Series, Amphibia, The Owl House, Tomodachi Life, Stardew Valley, Cookie Run Kingdom, etc. (I will add to this!)

My hyperfixations!

->Danganronpa: certain characters individually.

->Gen 6 Pokémon: I grew up with a copy of Y and a Latios my brother gave me, which has lead to a major love for these games and Latios in general.

->Pokémon Mystery Dungeon (Rescue Team, specifically): I'm pretty sure that the Gen 3 version was one of the first games I beat the main story for and it has a special place in my heart, along with RT!Gengar.

->Undertale (and the AUs): my 2020 fixation has sunk its teeth back into me. Yeah this is one of my on and off ones.

->The Life Series': yeah, this one is huuuuuuge. It's reached brainrot levels of fixation. I NEED more time to be able to catch up on everyone's povs. And Limited Life. Aw heck, I'd rewatch ALL of it if I had the time to.

->Phineas and Ferb: we started rewatching the show earlier in the year and how on earth had I never actually watched it before? Anyway new fixation.

->Tomodachi Life!!!!!

->Miitopia: I go in and out of wanting to replay this masterpiece of a game, and it usually turns into a huge fixation of mine. Guess what came back.

->Fire Emblem Fates (and Awakening): Hello the last years on my 3ds, I missed you... I CAN satiate it by replaying the games, because I FOUND OUT MY A BUTTON STILL WORKS!

->Cookie Run Kingdom: I recently got into this one, but I might not interact with the fandom that much outside of looking at art and drawing my faves. (I also feel a bit of a connection to one of the cookies, but I have a lot to do at the moment so that will have to wait.)

Misc!

-> I have an art reblogging account. This is where I'll reblog most of the cool art I find. I also have a sideblog where I may talk about my (potential) alterhuman identity, and I have a sideblog for my Undertale AU. ( @pipstormy8 ) ( @ut-reverie ) ( @stormypip7-reblogs )

-> I also have an ask blog dedicated to my aus! ( @sp7s-multiverse-mailbox ) which I. Can't tag.

WAIT!! Let me try something...

-> Don't feel scared about sending me asks! Ask me anything that pops into your head. Hell, even ask me about the weather if you can't think of anything else!

-> i contributed to the post of editing the basic sexymen onto images, i made a 20-minute edit of their faces on pikmin.

-> I also have a Bluesky account, but I haven't actually posted on it as I'm more active on here, it's under the same username though (for if I ever DO use it.)

My Art Requests Are Always Open! These are free as I do them as a way of honing my skills, my inbox is always open for these! I am currently experiencing a bit of art block and I am not doing these just yet, but I will do them again when I have more free time!

Edit Logs for this Pinned Post:

[lizzies-mailbox]

[I am very sorry, I promise there is lore surrounding this on my blog if you’re that curious.]

[Your mailbox is trapped, when you next open the barrel to access your mail, water will shoot out of it]

[There is a letter inside a waterproofed shulker , and inside is a crumpled piece of paper with a simple]

From, Martyn <3

[You’ve also heard of him doing this to a few others. Ooc I am again very sorry]

- @itlw-mailbox

[It's quite alright! I've gone ahead and read up on the lore, thanks for letting me know. We love a bit of tomfoolery >:3] [She lets out a surprised yelp at the sudden gust of water, immediately getting soaked. She pulled the shulker out, reading the letter before letting out a gasp of annoyance. She crumpled the letter and threw it into the water stream, before walking off with her hands on her hips.] [...A few seconds later she came back, remembering that her mailbox was indeed trapped and that was a problem. She inspected the mailbox for a moment before letting out an audible groan, muttering under her breath.] I'll need to get Etho or Pearl to help...can't believe Martyn's making me ask them to come all the way over here again. Stupid, blonde, little...

[thecharleston]

Hello!!!!! I'm Charlie, Charlie Bergeron! I'm an engineer and scientist!!

So, I'm going to cut right to the chase (bear with me here): I'm a traveler of the multiverse, and a field researcher of sorts! I investigate and study phenomena on the multiversal scale, and I like to pay particular attention to WEIRD stuff!

SO!!! Imagine my excitement when I found my second THIRD sub-multiverse group! This one is half the size of the last one, but don't get confused: this place is HUGE! The timeline interconnectedness is remarkable! I haven't seen anything like it before.

However, I might have noticed a teensy little distortion while examining things. I've been monitoring this sub-multiverse group for about a week now, observing and recording the sorts of signals it emits. But just earlier today, I came across a discrepancy between either one timeline or a small group of them (it's hard to tell from how far away I was). I'm not entirely sure what it means, but while spatial and temporal phenomena in this group is alarmingly common... there was something different this time, as if something other than the usual thing was causing the distortions? It's really hard to explain without my machine, ehehehe... < OUTDATED

So that's why I'm here! I'd like to look for the source of the distortion, and, if possible, study how this sub-multiverse group operates from the inside.

I do want to make it clear that I might be, erm, stranded. My handheld multiversal traveling apparatus (just call it a portal gun) is... imperfect. It tends to overheat or exhaust one of its components, soooo until I can get this sucker fixed, I'm stuck with you and you're stuck with me, GYAHAHAHAHAHA!

Anyway, glad to meet you! If you have any information or questions, meander over to my mailbox ((ask box)) or just call ((ping)) me!

(OOC: this is NOT a real blog. This is a roleplay blog. I will be tagging all IC posts made by this blog with unreality.)

[crimsonfacets]

/ He has not spoken a single word yet. Not moved a muscle. Episode 7 showed hints of him when Sebastian chased him. Episode 8 gave more close ups! Next week will have the bizarre doll showdown, I imagine!

{ Also I took all of these photos myself! }

Oh, hell yeah. Here we go. Here we GO.

Thank you for taking the pictures and patching them through!! The website I'm marathoning on JUST updated!! I'll be up to date later on. LET'S GOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[lightofelijah]

[An letter arrived to two mysterious people]

An Postman arrived at the workshops of this certain person, he puts the letter into the mailbox and then knock on the doors before leaving.

The person came out from his workshop and walk towards the mailbox, he opened it and see two letters under their names. He grabbed it and heads back to his home, he looks at it as he never received it for very long time. Could it be his parents wrote to him? No, that couldn’t be. He ran out from that house for very long time after the incident so there is no way they could find his current address. He called his lover who’s actually reading book upstair.

“My love! Could you come down for a second?” He yelled at him and he received an answer from him.

“Yeah, I’m coming. Give me a moment.” He puts the book down on the couch and goes downstairs to his lover. And what he see is two letters on his lover’s hand, he asked who is it from. But his lover told him that he don’t know and it wasn’t his parents for sure.

“You sure it wasn’t your parents or your younger brother that send you this?” He asked his lover who’s holding the letter still.

“I’m sure it wasn’t them, I ran out from that house a very long time and lose contact from them.” He answered and to his surprise it wasn’t only written to him but it was written to his lover as well.

At first, he was sketchy about it but he decided to read it, wondering what is it about. It was about both of them participating the game in the manor. But it seems this “particular person” knows about them, sure. This could be an prank that pretend they know them, but they changed their mind as they read further more on the letter as this person knows every detail about them and it was accurate.

“What’s your choice? Do you want to go that manor?”

[Coming soon to the manor + if creating an ask blog, it will be put in this post]

[otter1962crystalball]

The English Patient (Kind of)… or The Little Red Truck

June 19th, 2024

Happy Pride, everyone. Today is the 19th of June and my 19th blog for Pride Month. After I posted yesterday, I realized that I had forgotten a major point in that time. During my stay in the hospital, I got a phone call from my mortgage specialist and he told me that he could give me a mortgage. He had rerun the numbers and said I was able to carry the mortgage on my own. That piece of news helped me get on with my life. It really gave me hope.

When I left the hospital, I felt this incredible sense of freedom. Being locked up in a small area for three weeks was difficult. Bill picked me in my car and took me home. There I was united with my dogs and cats. I told Bill that I wanted to do something spontaneous, so we went to the swimming pool in the neighbourhood. It had three diving towers and we were allowed as swimmers to jump off them. I had never jumped off the highest one so we made plans and went. Needless to say, it was scary, but I finally jumped from the highest tower.

During this time, Dean was still in the basement, but was due to move out at the end of that month. Things had been settled with the lawyers and my mortgage was refinanced under my name only, which was a major relief. To help me deal with the stress I did a 12 step program for those who have dealt or are dealing with addicts through Nar-Anon. Bill went as well from but also went to meetings for former users. Those meetings really did help - giving me a place to talk and to listen to others’ stories.

The day when Dean would leave finally arrived. He had three people helping him move his stuff out of the basement into two pods.  I went outside to check with Dean about my stuff that remained in the basement. Dean wouldn’t talk to me, but one of his friends almost came at me. Bill was watching from the back stairs to the upper part of my house. He told me to get up there quickly. When I got up there, he said the guy was spun out on drugs and likely carrying a weapon. It was safer to just let Dean take everything and not risk my life. In the end, the two pods were filled and they left. Dean left the keys in my mailbox. It turned out that most of my tools were gone, but my Christmas ornaments, washer and dryer were still there. I considered myself lucky.

During all of this time, Bill and I starting what I guess one would call dating. Bill had taken care of me during my stay at the hospital and then the month afterwards in my place. Looking back, I now realize that I was feeling emotions due to Bill taking care of me - like in the movie. After the month, Bill went back to his apartment but we kept seeing each other. After about six months, cracks appeared in the armour of our relationship. 

Bill had some major issues due to his former addiction. Those issues often popped up when we were together and I came to realize that it wasn’t working and basically told him that we needed call it quits. Bill didn’t take it well and got quite angry and he showed his true colours to me. I knew that I had made the right decision. When he was gone, I felt another sense of freedom because I was now totally in control of my life and where I wanted it to go.

Dean on the other hand, would come the first day of every month to pick up his cheque for alimony. He always came alone and always seemed disjointed and out of sorts. One time he brought a sketch book to show me. It was as if nothing was wrong between us. He showed his drawings and I told him they were great. There were a couple I thought were of me, but when asked, all the drawings were him and that he drew them while on heroin. He was so self-absorbed that he didn’t know life was going on around him.

I can remember one time that kind of hit me with a ton of sadness. He came one day to pick up his cheque and handed me a red toy truck. The wheels had fallen off, but he said that they could be put back on. He said that maybe I could give it to a classroom at school. I asked him where he got it and he told me that he and a friend had a shopping cart and they went through dumpsters for cans, bottles and other things. I felt this great sense of pity for Dean. The little red truck represented what was broken in my former life with Dean.  There was no real way out for Dean. The addiction had its claws into him and would not let go.

After that, I decided that I didn’t want Dean to come around anymore. I gave him the last three cheques, but post-dated two of them. I ended up getting a call from a loan company saying that two of my cheques had bounced and that I owed them money. I told them that Dean had obviously changed the dates and when I saw them, they had indeed been changed. My lawyer told them to back oof and it was no longer my problem.

Dean came to my door one last time. It turns out all the money was gone and he wanted help. He said that he and his friend had been kicked out of where they were staying. I remembered something Bill had said about enabling addicts and told Dean to leave and never come back or I would call the police. Thankfully, he never did come back.

The last time I saw Dean, I saw him pushing a shopping cart in the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver. It is known for its homeless and addicts. That area was rather scary as I sometimes took that route to get home. People were often shooting up in the open and the police were doing nothing - not even in front of their department nearby.

One day, I had an appointment with my family doctor. I asked him if he had seen Dean later and he said that Dean had probably died of an overdose somewhere in the Downtown Eastside. It was really sad for me because I remember the Dean I fell in love with and also the monster that I had to force out of my home. That part of my life had finally come to a close. To this day, I still have feelings for the old Dean. I loved him very dearly.

I had gone through one of  the darkest times of my life. In fact, my counsellor said that I was suffering from PTSD from the trauma. It took me almost a year to feel like I was better and the bad dreams finally stopped. Even to this day, I sometimes have to be aware of how the PTSD can pop back into my life.

For Pride, I am celebrating self love and believing in ourselves. I got through all of that and came to understand that I was stronger for having gone through it and dealing with it.

I hope that you give yourself credit for your beliefs and your self love. 

Carpe diem and happy Pride.

[travelinglibrariansdesk]

New idea for a blog

New idea for a blog: circulation assistant who enjoys talking about the books she checks in and out every day. I have no idea if anyone would find my opinions of books interesting: I'm mainly writing for me. Last fall, after the library hired me, I began keeping a list of good-looking children's books for my mother, who says she's going to start reading books to little kids somewhere, as soon as she's settled into her new apartment. The list mushroomed right away.

Can I start a blog this way? I'd love to keep notes on the books I see every day. For instance, today someone returned Jenny and the Cat Club, a book my grandmother used to read to me. So dear to my heart, little black cat Jenny with her red scarf and silver ice skates, and her wonderful friends. I'm overjoyed that someone is still reading it!

Also, a really funny edition of Frankenstein: Frankenstein: Annotated for Scientists, Engineers, and Creators of All Kinds. Worrisome, isn't it, to think that someone seems to want to encourage scientists to...um...duplicate Frankenstein's research? Not sure if that is what is intended by the title.

Just read an adorable book called It Came in the Mail. Little boy loves getting mail, so he writes a letter to the mailbox asking it to send him things. The first thing that arrives is a dragon. All the art is letter/postcard art, with appropriate and adapted post office stamps: "oversize" on the elephant, and "pearishable" on a giant pear.

Every day I'm amazed at the dazzling and creative art used in children's books. Yesterday I read a sweet Native American myth, called The Girl Who Loved Horses, a Caldecott winner from 1978 by Paul Goble. His Native American-style art is colorful and gorgeous, and sweeps across the pages in a way that suggests wild mustangs in motion.

The popularity of graphic novels has freed both adult and children's book authors from the either/or of "text" or "picture book". I nabbed a book today that I'd like to read called Trial by Jury Journal. I opened it to find that the story is told by all kinds of print media - the usual paragraphs, letters, newspaper articles, etc. I love creative flights like this. It reminds me of that beautiful series of books done as letters and postcards: Nick Bantock's Griffin and Sabine romance. I love the zing I get when I can connect two authors and think, I wonder if the older book(s) had an influence on the newer ones? Did Bantock's books pave the way for others of this type?

Update on Trial by Jury Journal: Good but not great. Kids will probably appreciate the character name puns more than I did - over several pages it wears a little thin (e.g., Anna Conda, Rhett Tyle). Still, the narration style keeps switching, which both keeps it interesting and develops individual characters. However, I think she could've gone further with the character development. They're not flat, but they don't have a full three dimensions. Still love the pen-and-ink art, reminiscent of Joseph Schindelman's original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Lemony Snickett.

Then there's Kaz Windness's If Ur Stabby, about a psycho anti-unicorn. Definitely NOT for kids under 12. A nice old man handed me the book the other day because (I think) his granddaughter had pulled it off the (presumably) adult graphic novel shelf, and he thought it might not be for children. Which it is NOT. However, the dark (one might say sick) humor of a depressed unicorn depicted largely in black and white is pretty funny if you've had a little too much princess literature, or the Pinkalicious series, come across your desk.

Just did a deeper dive into Stabby, who is apparently a graduate of Mother Goth Rhymes, which I can't put on hold right now because I have too many other books out that are overdue. (Just can't get myself to read enough. Very frustrating.) Fascinating stuff, though - "Stabby the Unicorn" is a meme, and apparently a game - "Unstable Unicorns", which would be a great name for a band, don't you think? But the game - "a strategic card game that will destroy your friendships" - is a little to manga for my taste. Even though they're "unstable", they're too cute and marshmallowy. More on that some other time, I think. Stabby is not manga. Original artwork - lots of curly, swirly letters and piles of skulls.

On a more serious, but still dark, note, I saw a book today entitled The Midwife of Auschwitz. My first reaction was YOW, this sounds horribly depressing. I was intrigued enough to read the blurb on the back, and it depicts exactly the story you'd expect of the title. However, I expect it would be an interesting take on the Holocaust, if you're in the right frame of mind. It turns out that among the atrocities the Nazis committed at the camps, they took the most Aryan-looking babies and gave them to German couples wanting children. Just like the Irish nuns and the evil folks in Before We Were Yours did.