#Animal Crossing Life French

[kcrossvine-art]

haiiii dungeon delvers! This is a quick one, gratefully both the materials and the dish-type are very close to their real life inspiration :D

As we speak, my favorite catgirl bestfolk is getting introduced to the anime and you haven no idea how much self control its taken to not immediately jump forward to be in sync with her, but theres SO many good recipes before we get there!!!

We will be making a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet today!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet?” YOU MIGHT ASKIts made from the egg of a basilisk, which isnt a large chicken egg but instead a large snake egg. Oblong shape, soft leather texture, and no eggwhites just yolk.

A large daikon

½ lbs fatty bacon

Shallots

Garlic

Chicken eggs

Salt

Pepper

Arugula (for garnishing)

OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)

You could try cooking this using actual snake eggs, but theyre hard to come by and reportedly quite bland compared to chicken eggs. I tried getting my hands on an ostrich egg for the pizzaz of it all. The zoo lady was kind in her dismissal.

AND, “what does a Mandrake and Basilisk Omelet taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKOmelettes are standard fair but here we cook them like a french omelette and wrap it up like a burrito at the end.

Wetter eggs than im used to ( <- american)

Daikon and bacon r very tasty together

They end up having the same texture almost

Intensely savory. Heavy on the tummy

Chopped green onions would bring more levity to the filling

Ketchup pairs well

(but i prefer medium hot sauce)

Dark coffee pairs well

The acidity of the above 3 is what makes them work with this nutrient Dense dish

. In the show, decapitated mandrakes are more bitter than mandrakes left 'whole'. If you want that difference, using sweet/sour sauce on some of the daikon while it cooks will make the non-sauced daikon seem bitter by comparison. . Maybe ferment daikon too? . Adding a small amount of water with the bacon transfers the heat evenly, a small amount as to cook off before the fat/grease renders. Could also try cooking in the oven.

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"Consisting of a fluffy Basilisk egg omelet filled with minced Basilisk bacon and mandrake.If the mandrake used was killed with its 'head' still attached, it will be less bitter and more mellow" This dish is important as it marks the beginning of Senshi and Marcilles bonding, and the lead-up gives us our first glance into the school Falin and Marcille met at. Objectively the recipe is basic but it was challenging to write out.

Omelette making is muscle-memory, so having to learn the french variation and slow down felt like trying to ride a bike side-saddled.

It took about an hour and a half from laying out the ingredients, to eating the finished thing. I had to take a break in the middle of cutting veggies as my wrists are flaring up, so you could probably go faster unimpeded.

What would you rate this recipe out of 10?(with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 large daikon, chopped

½ lbs fatty bacon, chopped

2 shallots

3 cloves of garlic

3 Eggs

Salt

Pepper

Some arugula (for garnishing)

OPTIONAL; ketchup/hot sauce :)

Method:

Chop your bacon into roughly ½ inch squares. Cut off the ends of your daikon and cube the rest. Thinly dice your shallots and crush your garlic cloves.

Bring a cast iron skillet to medium-high heat. Once at temp, carefully add your chopped bacon to the pan with a very small amount of water.

Add your chopped bacon and stir-fry until almost cooked.

Add your shallots and garlic. Cook for about a minute or until the shallots have softened.

Transfer the bacon, shallot, and garlic mix to a bowl. Set aside. Lower the cast iron skillet to medium heat.

Place your daikon cubes in the cast iron skillet, you should still have enough bacon grease. Add salt and cook until lightly browned on each side.

Add roughly 1 tablespoon of water. Lower heat and cover. Simmer for 2 minutes.

Once your daikon are softened, transfer to same bowl containing your bacon, shallots, and garlic.

Crack your eggs into a seperate bowl and whisk for 2 minutes until 'frothy' with no egg whites visible.

Bring the cast iron skillet back up to medium heat. There might not be enough bacon grease left, so feel free to add butter! If the butter browns you've gone too hot.

Pour your eggs into the skillet. Use a spatula to spread the eggs, scraping down the sides of the pan. Sprinkle salt and pepper in, to taste.

Once your eggs are mostly solid, pour the bacon, shallot, garlic, and daikon filling into the center. If it starts to separate- stop touching and let it rest. Gently fold the edges of the omelette overtop the filling.

Lay a few pieces of arugula on a plate, and flip your omelette onto it :) enjoy!

[creatingblackcharacters]

what’s your opinion on a white person playing as a black custom character in a video game? there’s a super cute puff ball hairstyle in animal crossing i want to use on one of my characters but obviously im not putting it on a white character. idk it just feels like virtual blackface to me. maybe it’s not that serious and i’m being anxious about it for nothing but i figured i might as well get your thoughts. thank you so much for all the educating you do.

Personally (MY opinion) is that as long as you're not doing it to meme racism or mock us, it's fine. If this is a game where you are playing with other people, you don't need to "pretend to be Black". That's the character, not you.

Tbh- and excuse my French- I think people could be assed to play as Black characters far more often! I'm not sure if you're aware of the racist blow up around Yasuke in the upcoming Assassin's Creed, but you must understand that an unfortunately large amount of people balk at the idea of having to play as (and thus, be expected to relate to or at least understand) Black characters- whether they notice their racist bias or not.

It's strange, because we have played as white characters our entire lives and adjusted accordingly. I've never been a cis White man in my life, but I've played as one an infinite amount of times and enjoyed the experience lmao. I think it's far beyond time for white gamers to be pulled from their comfort zones- a zone they might not even know exists- and to expand on the types of stories they consume.

My partner actually does this with women characters; he wants to check his biases and learn how to play as women just as well as men (apparently there's different ways that women are designed to move in video games, which I believe but Jesus). So yeah, to me as long as you're being respectful about it, it's fine.

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Mercs proposing hc?? So basic but Im literally one corny mf

The TF2 Mercs proposing to their partners

WARNING: Mild gore gifts because this is the Mercs we’re talking about here.

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Scout:

- Biggest panic attack of his fucking life. Has no idea how to function like a normal human being anymore. It was that feeling of being in love with somebody all over again and needing to tell them. What’s worse about this though is that marriage is a huge commitment. One that many aren’t ready for yet. What if you reject him and he messes this relationship up?

- Goes to Spy for comfort. In all honesty he’s just a very damaged little boy on the inside and scared that he is incapable of receiving unconditional love. The other Mercs catch him behind the base crying into Spy’s shoulder on the curb while Spy holds him. He’s telling Spy how much he loves you; and how terrified he is that you cannot return that same vow. Spy knows the feeling. “Shh, mon lapin.” Boy howdy Spy’s certainly grateful that Scout’s mom didn’t teach him a word of french.

- Spy has to shove Scout into your room to actually finally get him to do it. “Your idiot boyfriend has a few words for you, and apparently I have to be present or i’m certain he’ll break down crying again.” He says to you. While poor Scout curls up into a ball on the floor.

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Soldier:

- First of all, why him? Second of all, this is the type of guy to go all out and spend half the money he earned in mercenary work to get one of those “will you marry me Y/N?” banners hooked up to a plane. Complete with the pilot being ejected and the plane crashing nose first into a rock formation. Apparently that was 100% intentional because a bunch of confetti came out of the explosion. You don’t know if you should be horrified at the audacity, or head over heels.

- Brings you an entire necklace of ears. But that’s not all! For limited time only you can get one of soldiers’ severed heads that was purposely boiled and skull cut into the shape of a helmet! Great, right? “Wow, what type of animal is this?” You ask. “A DOG. PACKAGED WITH PURE, NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVOR, PASTEURIZED AMERICAN GLORY!” well that’s not reassuring. “OOOHH SAAAAY CAAAAN YOU SEEE—“ Soldier immediately gets hit over the head by Heavy and knocked unconscious.

- After the initial silliness dies down you see adoration as you tend to his awful head wound. Maybe Heavy knocked the stupidity out of him? No. He’s still insane. Soldier grabs your wrist as you apply alcohol to his wound and squeezes your hand. “Somebody like me doesn’t deserve somebody like you.” He says. “Bullshit, Soldier.” You say, leaning in for a kiss.

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Demoman:

- He can only achieve this when drunk off his mind. Not to mention it arrives in the most unromantic way possible. But it doesn’t make you love him any less. He holds you close to him after a New Years party at the base and pats your back. “Jus’ so you know, you’d look mighty fine with a ring on your finger.” He flirts, getting incredibly physically affectionate. He makes sure never to cross your boundaries.

- “Me mum would kill me but fuck all. y’know? Old wench’s days are numbered anywae. We could live ina nice cottage by the sea.. If ya want wee lil’ bastards I’ll actually take care of em. I’d have to stop me drinkin tho.” He says, pecking your neck. His remaining eye is pleading with you to say yes. “Pleaaase?”

- Has no recollection of these events in the morning so imagine his dumbfounded expression when one of the Mercs asks about his new fiancé. Cue the embarrassment mixed with pride and excitement.

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Engineer:

- Will 100% go to your window in the dead of night and sing a song for you on his guitar. Particularly I imagine this would be the contender. You have no idea this is even a marriage proposal. You just think he’s being incredibly sappy. Imagine the surprise while mid song he pulls out a small box and throws it up and down recklessly like a baseball. You’re slowly beginning to catch on as he opens it with his free fingers after finishing the song.

- Complete overconfident show off. He pep-talked himself before all this and rehearsed his performance repeatedly. By using the wrangler and effortlessly throwing the box up in the air and propelling it forward with a single bullet, the sentry successfully aided in getting the box up to you. You don’t even know how you managed to catch it, to be honest.

- Tips his hardhat to you. “Whadda say? Marry me?” He can barely contain his smile. Both excited and somewhat relieved he pulled that off.

—————————————————————————

Heavy:

- “Heavy made you dead person crown..” He walks into your room one day and puts it on your head. It’s a bunch of severed ears meant to resemble a flower crown. “Hey, thanks big guy.” You’re grateful for the gift, being a crazed Merc yourself is it really any surprise? You give him a huge kiss on the cheek. Heavy looks thrilled that you accepted his gift. Which is very much unlike him. Usually he’s reserved. Maybe he’s just having a good day?

- Well.. you eventually find out why. That was apparently his way of proposing to you. Soldier nudges you the next morning and teases you for being engaged to Heavy. You’re horrified to say the least. You had no idea this meant marriage. Not that you wouldn’t marry him. But what about his gun Sasha? Wouldn’t she feel jealous? You’ve been with Heavy so long you keep referring to that damn thing as a person.

- Immediately upon seeing you; goes up to you and gives you a list of stuff he wants at this wedding. There’s even a blank page for you to write your own needs. He seems oddly motivated to plan this out months before it actually happens. There is countless mentions of Russian authors he wants to attend the wedding. As if they’d ever consider going to a stranger’s wedding. “If they won’t come then Heavy will crush them..” He says. Same goes for your guests.

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Pyro:

- Wow.. Kind of the most normal out of all of them. For the most part. If TF2 took place in modern day they’d propose with a ringpop but all they have is a bag of candy and an actual ring (That they may or may not have stolen from someone in Tuefort.)

- They get on their knees and offer the ring to you in an extremely professional manner. It’s quite surreal to see Pyro pull off something so domestic and normal when he’s always destroying stuff with fire. In fact this is a little too normal.. This is Team Fortress we’re talking about here. Shouldn’t something be wacky happening right about now? It’s like the perfect opening for slapstick. Through your cries of love and laughter you begin to feel anxious at the back of your head.

- Yup.. There it is. Pyro tells you that Scout offered to be the ‘Ring bear’ for the wedding. There’s Scout dressed up in a cutesy teddy bear costume. You’re certain that’s not how it works. “Just for the record, if you tell anybody about this, I’ll fuckin’ saw off both your knees boston sandwich style. Capeesh?” He says. You have no idea what that means so you quickly agree.

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Sniper:

- Afraid he’s going to mess it up, much like Scout. Gets incredibly physically ill as a result from stress and isolates himself in his camper van. You’re convinced he wants to tell you something but you have no idea what it is. One day on the frontlines an arrow narrowly misses your face and embeds itself into the wall next to you. You were about to turn around and bombard Sniper until you saw the note attached to it. “Pardon, Will you marry me? -Sniper.” With a very worried sad face drawn next to the note. He even bothered to draw his hat on it.

- Disbelief clouds your face at first. Sniper? Marry another Merc? You’re in shock. This isn’t something you’d ever suspect from a guy like him. But your initial thought makes way for an uncontrollable smile.

- He literally will not approach you first after this. You have to knock on his camper van because god knows he won’t be even able to face his team for months. As you jump into his arms and kiss him he immediately pulls you inside to love on you in private.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- WOULD RATHER SHOOT HIMSELF

- Just kidding. But he wishes he were dead right now. How could he do something so… Un-mad-sciencey? Marriage is just a concept brought upon by money hungry people. It only exists within the mind… Yet, that’s how he feels. An eternal vow to you is something he wishes to do. He’s already planned to make you a god alongside him once the time came so you could be his beloved consort forever. It reminded him of the greek story of soulmates.

- Gets a little fruitier than usual. The most feminine moan you ever heard left this man’s body as you brushed against him while trying to help him grab a syringe he dropped. This man gets unusually hornier and that’s how you know something’s up.. “Looking up my skirt, I see!” He says, as you glance up his long lab coat. There isn’t anything there but his pants so you roll your eyes. “Ah yes.. “ You respond. You decide he’s just clingy and horny as usual and carry about your assistance. You’re not in the mood for that. He never even bottoms so he’s feigning it anyway.

- “Err—Uh— Ho! Wouldn’t it be just shameful if I knew what was going on inside your head?” He asks. “Alright, i’ll bite. What are you saying, Doc?” You sigh. He fixes his glasses back up on his face thoughtfully. “One body, one mind. That would be quite intriguing don’t you think? If we were to.. Become one.” He placed an odd amount of emphasis on that, as if the thought was simply music to his ears. Lord he’s creepy. Medic grabs you and holds you close to him. “Think of the possibilities. We’d never be lonely again. I could stitch our bodies together and we could feel each other’s essence. Forever.”

- “Medic, you good?” You ask. Although his words were strangely flattering nonetheless in their own way. You smile at him. He seems to be lost in the idea. Fantasies of being with you for eternity flood his head. Particularly ones where you’re both a weird hybrid god. Weirdest marriage proposal world record goes to Medic.

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Spy:

- No, no no no no no. He can’t do this again. Marriage never worked out for him. After losing Scout’s mom and many partners that followed, he couldn’t bare hurting somebody like that again. His job always got in the way of what he truly desired but he had to live with it. This life chose him after all. His hand was forced into this position. Seeing your bright smile for the rest of his days was all he ever wanted. His urges to get up and say something to you were too strong.

- Has to metaphorically slap himself in the face and remind himself to act like a fucking adult. He wasn’t a little rambunctious teenager in Paris anymore. Yet he felt like one whenever he saw you. Such boyish feelings for an old put together gentleman like him. Spy decided to trust you and himself. But if something went wrong he wouldn’t hesitate to jump off a fucking cliff. Spy would stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for hours and contemplate his decision before making it.

- He proposes to you under a starry moonlit night. Not even bothering to kneel down, he slides the box across the balcony to you. “Well?” he asks, taking a long drag of his cigarette. His eyes fixated on the horizon. “Do I have to say it?” He asks. “Yes..” You tell him. Your eyes gleaming with joy. You never felt happier in your entire life. “Fine.. Will you marry m—“ He couldn’t even finish before you jump on him, ultimately knocking you both down.

[hard--headed--woman]

I know I spent two days without posting any lesbian pride post lol but I swear I'm gonna post two posts per day in the following days to make up for it. I am again going to talk about an artist, but from a different period this time.

Rosa Bohneur !

(I love her name by the way... Bohneur means happiness in french and that's such a pretty name to have)

Marie-Rosalie Bonheur, known as Rosa Bonheur, was born in 1822 in Bordeaux and died in 1899 in Thomery. She was a French painter and sculptor specialising in representations of animals.

She has kind of an interesting family story (mother adopted by a rich guy who found out later who was her real father, siblings all artists, father who met a lot of interesting people, links with many famous people...) but it would be too long to talk about it and I want to focus on Rosa herself. Do check it up if you're interested!

During her youth, Rosa Bonheur had a reputation for being a tomboy, a reputation that followed her throughout her life and which she made no attempt to deny, wearing her hair short and later smoking cigarettes and cigars. Her emancipated lifestyle never caused a scandal, even though she lived in an era that was very concerned with convention. Like all women of her time, Rosa Bonheur had to apply to the Prefecture of Paris for a cross-dressing permit, renewable every six months, in order to wear trousers, in particular to attend livestock fairs, travel or ride horses.

Here's one of her permits, from 1857 :

And though many historians tried to deny the fact that she was a lesbian, she always refused to marry a man, has only ever had relationships with women and literally wrote that she never felt any sort of love, attraction or tenderness for men, "besides a frank and good friendship for those who had all my esteem". After the death of the woman she loved, she also wrote "If I'd been a man, I'd have married her, and they wouldn't have made up all those silly stories..." You got it : even if she didn't shout it from the rooftops, Rosa was very probaby a homosexual woman.

Rosa Bohneur grew up in a fairly wealthy family, thanks to the financial support of her mother's adoptive father. But when her mother's father died, the family was left without any such support, and fell into dire poverty. When Rosa was 11, her mother died, which deeply traumatised her. She kept a lifelong admiration for her mother.

In 1836, at the age of 14, she met Nathalie Micas, who became her lover. Only Nathalie's death 53 years later separated them.

Her father remarried in 1842 to Marguerite Peyrol, with whom he had a last son, Germain, who would also become a painter. Rosa Bonheur did not get on well with her stepmother and when her father died in 1849, she left the family home to live with the Micas.

After her mother's death, Rosa Bonheur went to primary schools, was apprenticed as a dressmaker and then went to boarding school. Eventually her father took her into his workshop, where her artistic talents were revealed. He was her one and only teacher. Gradually, she developed a passion for animal art, which became her speciality.

She exhibited for the first time, at the age of 19, at the Salon of 1841. She won a 3rd class medal at the Salon of 1845, and a 1st class medal (gold) at the Salon of 1848. This award enabled her, at the age of 26, to obtain a commission from the State to produce an agrarian painting (paid 3,000 francs). The painting resulting from this state commission, "Labourage nivernais" was supposed to go to the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Lyon. But it was so successful at the 1849 Salon that the Beaux-Arts department decided to keep it in Paris, at the Musée du Luxembourg. After Rosa Bonheur's death, the work went to the Louvre, before being transferred to the Musée d'Orsay in 1986.

When her father died in March 1849, Rosa Bonheur replaced him as director of the École impériale gratuite de dessin pour demoiselles (or École gratuite de dessin pour jeunes filles). She remained in this position until 1860: ‘Follow my advice and I'll turn you into Leonardo da Vinci in skirts’, she often told her pupils.

In 1860, she moved to a huge house in By, where she had a huge workshop built, and ample space for her animals. One of her relatives wrote: “She had a complete menagerie in her house: a lion and a lioness, a deer, a wild sheep, a gazelle, horses, etc. One of her pets was a young lion she let run around. My mind was freer when this leonine animal died".

In June 1864, Rosa was visited by Empress Eugenie, who invited her to lunch at the Château de Fontainebleau with her husband. The following year, Eugenie returned to see her, to present her with the Legion d'honneur herself. Rosa is the ninth woman and the first artist to receive this distinction. About this, The Empress said :

“At last, you've been knighted. I am delighted to be the godmother of the first woman artist to receive this high distinction. I wanted the last act of my regency to be devoted to showing that, in my eyes, genius has no sex."

She was also the first woman to be made an officer in this order, in April 1894 (first female officer of the Legion d'honneur).

Rosa traveled extensively with her lover Nathalie, herself a painter and mechanical enthusiast (she invented and patented a railway braking system), and painted many pictures inspired by her travels.

In 1889, Nathalie died after some 50 years together. It was then that Rosa expressed her regret at not having been able to marry her.

After Nathalie's death, Rosa met Anna Klumpe, a talented American painter. The two women moved in together some time later.

Rosa Bohneur died of pulmonary congestion in 1899, without having completed her last painting, “La foulaison du blé en Camargue”, a monumental canvas she had planned to exhibit at the 1900 Universal Exhibition.

She is buried in Père Lachaise cemetery, alongside Nathalie, her parents and Anna (who died years after her). She left her entire fortune to Anna, who, in 1908, published a biography of Rosa Bonheur and created a Rosa-Bonheur prize at the Société des artistes français. The Société des Artistes français posthumously awarded her the Medal of Honor shortly after her death.

Rosa could have had military honors at her funeral, but she specified in her will that she did not wish this.

There's a lot of interesting things to say about Rosa, her art and her history, so I suggest you do some research on her! She was a very talented and strong-willed woman who had a huge impact on French art and left a considerable cultural legacy.

Here are some of her paintings :

I personally love them ! I am not a painting expert, I just find them sooo pretty.

See you tomorrow :)

[ja-khajay]

hiii! In regards to the "Guillermo del Toro Says “We Have to Rescue” Studio Animation From “Emoji-Style Behavior”" article/statement, do u have examples of animation that specifically is & is not this type of expression/animation? Bc it's rly hard for me to actually picture this and like I need examples ahaha

Disclaimer - I was not at this specific talk, so I don't have the full context and I know from reliable sources - friends of mine that DID attend it - that it's not all he said there, so that article is pretty much only relying spicy chosen bits. That being said, I will focus on this paragraph.

Getting more specific, he went on to detail what he despises about certain lazy proclivities in commercial animation, notably how characters and emotions are “codified into a sort of teenage rom-com, almost emoji-style behavior.” He added, “[If] I see a character raising his fucking eyebrow, or crossing his arms, having a sassy pose — oh, I hate that shit. [Why] does everything act as if they’re in a sitcom? I think it is emotional pornography. All the families are happy and sassy and quick, everyone has a one-liner. Well, my dad was boring. I was boring. Everybody in my family was boring. We had no one-liners. We’re all fucked up. That’s what I want to see animated. I would love to see real life in animation. I actually think it’s urgent. think it’s urgent to see real life in animation.”

What he talks about here is something I find omnipresent in modern American animation, or from studios that are funded by and/or trying to sell to americans (ex: Illumination McGuff). Here del Toro specifically mentions characters and emotions and how they are codified, which would include how characters are written, how animated their emotions and body language are, how they interact... He also mentions studio animation, an important distinction - this does not include indie animators!

A few things, adding * to those he's specifically calling out here, and more of my own that are not stated but I feel match the style

*one liners

*the "dreamworks face"

*sassy attitude

*quick banter

*taking poses

looking into the camera

overtly smooth, cartoony body language

characters explaining their emotions, plot resolutions around this

I will now get to examples, starting by a comparison between two animated films. Both of these films are contemporary, family-audience, french animated films. They share similarities in setting, being medieval fantasy fairytales about female heroes. One of these films was made with an american audience in mind (Pil), and the other caters to a french audience (Dragon Princess). You can compare how the characters act in both trailers:

Try and only focus on dialog, body language and expressions, barring art style and story!

Feature films that, in my opinion, also fit that "emoji style behaviour" (* for those I have not fully watched) any why:

Turning Red: the sass, the one liners, body language, camera looking, quick banter, plot resolution with characters explaining their emotions. The whole film fits

Puss in Boots: The last wish: sass, one liners, body language, banter, characters explaining their emotions. Scenes like Puss meeting his past lives and the dog's dialog are strong offenders

The emperor's new groove: sass, one liners, posing, banter

Encanto: sass, posing, banter; the explaining their emotions to drive the plot is ridiculously present to the point where I'd say del Toro was vagueing that one with the family example

Klaus: posing, banter, body language, explaining their emotions

*Nimona: sass, posing, banter, expressions...I only watched the trailer so can't say much but it leans HARD into the rapid fire quip territory with emotional resolution

*Trolls: sass, posing, banter, body language, camera looking...

Regarding films that do not do this, the quick answer would be...watch foreign (=not american) and/or older films. Nowadays with internet a massive catalogue is available, although the USA has such a monopoly on animation via its advertising budget other countries don't have that those films can be harder to find especially if you only use english-speaking internet.

As most studio animation is for a young or family audience and my entire example list above is, I will give some recommendations of films that are also for such an audience, but with older and worldwide picks. Some of these films are fully available on YouTube (although not in english always), so I'll be linking that when possible!

Mom is pouring rain (France, 2020s) (trailer): A shorter film about a little girl sent to live with her grandmother while her mom heals from depression. Has emotions front and center but expressed and animated in a way typical of modern french animation, with cartoony designs but subtler, more "boring" acting

The little prince and the eight headed dragon (Japan, 1960s): Beautifully animated in a style distinct from anime, this is a simple folktale adaptation. Fully on YouTube, albeit in its original english dub who's quality is frankly not great.

Next! (UK, 1990s): Stop motion short by an animator who specifically explores subtler, harder to animate expressions, as well as the art of theater, represented here by a Shakespear puppet playing out his works as a one-man show.

Ramayana (India, 1990s): Animated version of the legend of the same name, coupling a Ghibli art style with your ancient legend's large scale battles and polite heroes.

Ne Zha (China, 2010s)(trailer): that trailer is dead serious, it's actually a pretty damn silly movie! Including this one because as a big CGI animated film it's interesting to compare to what Pixar/Dreamworks/etc is doing.

...I'm realizing that I included a whole lot of animated folk tales so for modern chinese animation I'll also name Legend of Hei (2020s)(trailer), an original fantasy film with indie origins and a whole lot of over the top action.

As for films from the US that do NOT match that style? As a country the US has a rich history of animation asides of Disney! I personally grew up on Tex Avery and Looney Tunes cartoons who (pre-90s) are great examples of this.

For more adult films, I'll link my list of mature animation recommendations!

My ask remains opens for any clarifications :) have a nice day!

[cod-dump]

Braid (teen!Ghost au)

___

It wasn't often that Nik was home alone. Well, alone without any human residents. The fur children flocked to him when it was just him. Riley following his every step, Smokey stalking from a distance, sometime choosing to lay on his lap when he was sitting, and Small Fry insisting sitting on his shoulder to supervise whatever task he was doing.

The boys were out with their own respective friend groups, Gary was spending quality time with Phillip, John was working, and Farah was at her own job. So, Nik was alone, entertaining the animals he brought into the home. He adored them but their clinginess was making it hard for him to work. He could put Small Fry up and Smokey in Kyle's room, but Riley wouldn't be put up quietly. He cries... loudly.

"Children, I need space."

At least Smokey didn't require to have physical contact with him at all times.

"I'm home!"

Riley ran from the room as soon as they heard Farah. Nik sighed and abandoned the radio pieces on the kitchen table, he'll have to deal with that later. He sat back against the chair as Farah walked in.

"Wow. Did you break it again?"

"I did not... it was Piotr."

"I don't think your tech guy would appreciate you blaming him for everything."

"He knows what he did."

Farah snorts before he sits across from him and slumps down. She looked drained, hair falling from it's bun. She was working retail at the moment, getting some pocket money before she fully committed to an university. John and Nik were helping her whenever she allowed it, neither daring to cross her clear boundaries.

"Thought you liked your hair braided?"

"Didn't have the energy for it this morning. Sometimes John will French braid it for me but he was ready to leave when I got up so I didn't ask."

Nik hums, "Maybe I could help..."

"Do you even know how to braid?"

"I could learn. Just need a good tutorial. I'm a visual learner."

Farah huffs with a small smile, "You don't have to do that."

"But I want to."

"... You're going to make me cry, Nik."

"It's just hair!"

The girl stares, Nik knew what John and he did for her meant everything. She lived in their house rent free, Nik helped her get a decent starter car, and they helped her get a job while also helping her get into a good university. She wasn't used to such help, their willingness to do whatever it took to make sure she had a comfortable life.

"Come. I'll find a video and I can practice on the couch. You want pizza?"

Farah quietly nodded and Nik got his phone out to order. He put the order in on the phone, resuming silence after he asked what she wanted and she answered. Nik could see that she indeed wanted to cry so a hug might be a too much for her.

"I... I talked to Hadir yesterday."

"Oh? How is he faring?"

Farah's older brother didn't come around. He didn’t know what the young man was up to or if he needed help, and neither did Farah. He was the one part of her blood family she could talk to and he was never around.

"He's... alive. I keep trying to meet up with him but he won't come around. Nik... could you see if you could find him for me?"

"You want me to find him?"

"I just need to know if he's okay! I'm worried about him."

Nik frowns, "I'll get my guys looking."

"Thank you..."

He really wanted to hug her but he restrained himself.

"I'll put Small Fry up and then we can settle in the living room."

"Okay..."

Farah left first to go change, Nik wishing he could make all her troubles disappear. Sadly, it was unattainable, so he will settle for at least locating her brother and making sure he's alright.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

can i request any words/ phrases/ themes linking to the word ‘relic’?

Writing Notes: Relic

Relic - an object esteemed and venerated because of association with a saint or martyr; souvenir, memento

Relics - remains, corpse; a survivor or remnant left after decay, disintegration, or disappearance; a trace of some past or outmoded practice, custom, or belief

Reliquaries - the containers that store and display relics

Where the bones of martyrs are buried, devils flee as from fire and unbearable torture. —St John Chrysostom

Etymology

Middle English relik, from Anglo-French relike, from Medieval Latin reliquia, from Late Latin reliquiae, plural, "remains of a martyr", from Latin, "remains", from relinquere "to leave behind"

Related Words

Afterimage - a lasting memory or mental image of something

Artifact - an object remaining from a particular period

Corpus - the body of a human or animal especially when dead

Decedent - a person who is no longer living; a deceased person

Memento - souvenir

Oddment - something left over; remnant

Oeuvre - a substantial body of work constituting the lifework of a writer, an artist, or a composer

Remnant - a usually small part, member, or trace remaining

Souvenir - something kept as a reminder (as of a place one has visited)

Vestige - a trace, mark, or visible sign left by something (such as an ancient city or a condition or practice) vanished or lost

Martin Luther complained about the profusion of relics and the absurd claims being made for them: "What lies there are about relics! One claims to have a feather from the wing of the angel Gabriel, and the bishop of Mainz has a flame from Moses’ burning bush. And how does it happen that eighteen apostles are buried in Germany when Christ had only twelve?"

Examples

ANCIENT GREEK RELICS. At Athens the supposed remains of Oedipus and Theseus enjoyed an honor that is very difficult to distinguish from a religious cult.

BUDDHIST RELICS. Relics of the Buddha and various saints were (and still are) venerated. Following the Buddha's death, his bones and teeth were divided for the purpose of being used as relics in order to illustrate his teaching of impermanence (anitya). These relics were so valued that they caused armed conflict between factions for possession of them. Afterward, these relics were taken throughout Asia with the gradual spread of Buddhism.

CHRISTIAN RELICS. Since the dawn of Christianity, relics have been an important part of Christian devotionalism. During the Middle Ages, the selling of relics became a lucrative business. The concept of physical proximity to the “holy” was considered extremely important. A pilgrim's possession and veneration of a relic was seen as a means to become closer to God. Instead of having to travel hundreds of miles to become near to a venerated saint, a Christian could enjoy closeness with him/her through their relic at home.

MUSLIM RELICS. Although certain sects of Islam strongly discourage (or outwardly prohibit) the veneration of relics, a very large collection of Muslim relics is preserved in the Sacred Trusts, located in Istanbul, which contains more than 600 treasured pieces in the Topkapi Palace Museum.

The Roman Catholic Church makes a distinction between veneration and worship of relics and icons.

3 Categories of Relics According to the Vatican

First-Class Relics: Items directly associated with the events of Christ's life (manger, cross, etc.), or the physical remains of a saint (a bone, a hair, a limb, etc.).

Second-Class Relics: An item that the saint wore (e.g., sock, shirt, glove). Also included are items that the saint owned or frequently used (e.g., a crucifix, book). An item more important in the saint's life is considered a more important relic.

Third-Class Relics: Anything that has touched a first- or second-class relic of a saint.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Hope this helps! Do tag me or send me a link to your writing if it does. I'd love to read your work.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 24: Fluff

Animal | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: General Word Count: 1,014 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Kid Fic Summary: Cas and the kids stumble over a pet adoption event

The Bliss | @blessyoushondahurley Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,223 Main Tags/Warnings: established relationship, domestic fluff, halloween Summary: A fluffy domestic day in the life of a happy, settled, married, post-hunter Dean Winchester and family.

Kiss it better | @tami-ryver Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,332 Main Tags/Warnings: Season/Series 09, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Sick Castiel (Supernatural), Caretaker Dean Winchester, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel Summary: Cas is sleeping soundly, and Dean tries his forehead; it's not as hot as it was before. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and smiles. Cas is indeed in good hands, and Dean is going to make sure he is healthy as soon as possible. Because if there is one thing he doesn't like, it's when the people he loves are in pain. Wait, loves? He loves Cas? Oh. Oh.

Early Morning | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,378 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Post Canon, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Retired Dean and Cas, Baker Dean, Bookstore Owner Cas Summary: When Dean’s alarm goes off, he quickly silences it and groans as he falls back against his pillow. Before he can talk himself out of bed, Cas rolls over and snuggles up against him, head on his shoulder, arm around his waist. Dean leans down to nuzzle Cas’ hair as he slowly rubs his hand across Cas’ back and shoulder. How did he - Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, the guy with nothing but a GED and a give ‘em hell attitude - get so lucky as to end up here? Married to his not-quite-an-angel-anymore, best-friend-turned-love-of-his-life. He’s so goddamned happy he doesn’t know what to do with himself sometimes. Dean huffs an incredulous laugh and shakes his head. He’s got to get moving or he’s going to be late.

loving on island time | @deancaskiss Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,015 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Kissing, Boys Kissing, French Kissing, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Established Relationship, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Anniversary, Day At The Beach, Beaches, Sunsets, Road Trips, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Surprises, Surprise Kissing, Flirting, Castiel/Dean Winchester Flirting, Romance, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Roses, Alcohol Summary: Cas slipped a note into the handle of Dean’s coffee mug, set it on the bedside table, and placed a kiss against Dean’s temple. 'Let’s go on a road trip. I’ll drive.’

Hot & Cold | @macy2me Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,064 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Castiel Proposes Marriage to Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human Summary: When Dean accidentally finds out that there is an engagement ring hidden in the house, he plays a game of Hot & Cold with Cas to find it. Short fic created as part of the Love & Winchesters birthday drabble exchange.

Fairy Cake Shop | @verobatto Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,546 Main Tags/Warnings: Fantasy, love at first sight, fairy!Dean, human!Cas, modern setting Summary: Dean, Charlie and Benny are unpaid fairies working for Fairyland collecting human's emotions like pearls. To do this work, they run together a cake shop that fullfils human's good wishes. One day Dean meets Castiel, a widower father, and his life changes for ever.

The Starlight | @Velvethopewrites Rating: General Word Count: 3,803 Main Tags/Warnings: Meet-cute, AU, shy!Cas, awkward!Cas, fluff, bartender!Dean, human AU, pre-slash Summary: A cold and rainy night brings two people together.

The Way to a Man's Heart (In a Blizzard) | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: General Word Count: 4,344 Main Tags/Warnings: Neighbors AU, Dean Has a Crush on Castiel, Snowed In, Baker Castiel, Sweet Dean, Happy Ending Summary: Determined to spend the weekend on his own as a snow storm hits the city, Dean may change his mind when a handsome neighbor knocks on his door. Propositioning him with delicious food, no less.

One Way Mirror | @starstiels Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5,312 Main Tags/Warnings: outsider pov, fluff, didn't know they were dating, protective dean, protective castiel, episode: s12e01, episode: s12e02, cas and dean use their words Summary: When Mary comes back from the dead, she didn't expect her 4-year-old to be 37. She also didn't expect him to be a hunter and married to an angel. AU where deancas are just slightly more openly affectionate and Mary immediately assumes they're married.

The Royally Unexpected Jollification of Two Princes | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: General Word Count: 6,096 Main Tags/Warnings: Royalty AU, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Temporary Meg/Castiel, Helpful Sam Summary: Prince Dean has a lot of feelings to sort out when he hears the unexpected news that best friend Prince Castiel is engaged. Unsure if he’s upset about not having been told the news by his own friend—or perhaps because of another elusive reason—he plans on clarifying the situation. Good thing his friend is set to arrive at the castle on that very afternoon, unaware that an important discussion is awaiting him.

Their Own Personal Eden | @thisisapaige Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 7,394 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence After Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Gardener Castiel, Gardener Dean Winchester, Inspired by Draft Script for Episode: s13e06 Tombstone, Language of Flowers, Fix It Summary: Years ago, Dean lost Cas and spread his ashes across a meadow with a windmill, a brook, and a garden. Years later, Dean loses Cas again and returns there to plant flowers in his honour. One day, while Dean lies in the meadow now full of forget-me-nots, a portal opens and Cas returns. With the help of soil, seeds, and the language of flowers— and perhaps a little meadow miracle— Dean and Cas learn how to navigate their relationship in the new, Chuck-free world.

[lyrashifts]

. . . INTRODUCING MY MARAUDERS DR !

ABOUT : this dr is set in the 70s, and begins during my first year at hogwarts. it strays quite far from the actual events of the marauders era, and instead merges with the plot of the lighting era. in this dr, me and my friends work against prejudices and an upcoming war, as well as a very dangerous voldemort on the rise.

౨ৎ﹕[ ABOUT ME ! ]

+ name : lyra a. lavigne

+ nationality : english-french

+ birthplace : cambridge, england

+ languages : english, french

+ blood status : pureblood

+ house : gryffindor

+ moodboard

౨ৎ﹕[ PERSONALITY ! ]

+ likes : writing, playing the guitar, drawing, reading, theater, cookies, poetry, magical creatures and animals, going on long walks, baking, being better dressed than everyone else, jumpers, rainy days, shopping (especially for music and clothes), hozier, queen, david bowie, the smiths, little women, lemon iced tea, stealing james's invisibility cloak, pranking (and actually getting away with it)

+ known for : converse, cherry red, loving 90s muggle movies, being best friends with remus, reading at social events when bored, drinking too much coffee, having cool hair, my style, quoting dead poets society daily, leather jackets, liking hozier and the smiths way too much, being an amazing gift giver, having a new hairstyle every day, being nice to everyone unless they cross me, smelling like cinnamon, coffee, and books, being amazing at school and magic, somehow getting every lead role in plays, wearing jumpers and leather jackets in the dead of summer and not somehow overheating to the point of death

౨ৎ﹕[ BACKSTORY ! ]

+ backstory : i grew up in england where a lot of my family was but by the time i turned 13 we moved to scotland, partially to attend hogwarts and partially because my parents wanted to get away from some of our pureblood family members. my parents, though from a notable pureblood family, don't agree with the views of pureblood culture. because my parents' reputation for their last name still upheld, when we moved we were invited to an event that ended up just being a pureblood society ball. we only stayed out of politeness, but it was there that i met sirius and promised to be best friends with him when we got to hogwarts since we both hated the party.

౨ৎ﹕[ WARDROBE ! ]

+ description : my style in this dr can change a lot, especially taking into consideration the weather or location i'm in. in terms of colors, i wear a lot of neutrals but tend to have a specific color pop (which oftentimes a cherry red). during winter and autumn months, i am often wearing oversized jumpers (whether mine or stolen from remus). i also almost always wear flared or baggy pants. some of my iconic pieces include leather jackets, doc martens, band tees, baker boy hats, plaid skirts, and more. during the summer i tend to wear baby tees and babydoll tops, along with skirts. with my uniform, i pair many accessories to make it look as appealing as possible, and use magic to have different nails every day.

౨ৎ﹕[ LIFE AT HOGWARTS ! ]

+ general : students start first year at 14, so it is a sort of hybrid between highschool and university, where students have much more freedom once 18. school uniforms are only required during classes from monday - thursday, and on friday you may wear your desired outfit underneath your robes.

+ dorms : students are allocated private dorms that have within them a bed, a desk, a private bathroom, and more. once a student is assigned to a dorm, the dorm changes to accommodate that student's taste. once you are given your dorm number, you must choose a password and it is your responsibility to ensure students you do not want to come in cannot. in the case that a student knows your password and you do not want them to, you can ask a professor to change it and they will do so. alohomora will not unlock dorm rooms. dorms are organized by house, but boy's and girl's dorms are not separated - everything is instead organized by house and name.

+ extra-curriculars : the clubs i am part of include music club (which later inspires me and my friends to make a band), theater club, art club, care of magical creatures club, and in later years, the quidditch team

+ houses : the animosity between houses (especially slytherin and gryffindor) is not nearly as prevalent as depicted in the books. it is known that not all students in one house are the same, and so, while some friendly competition is encouraged, it is not uncommon to have friends from every house. students of every house are allowed into the common rooms and dorms (with permission of at least one person from that house).

+ events : all the events featured in this post are included in this dr

౨ৎ﹕[ ABOUT THIS DR ! ]

+ worldbuilding : not a lot changes about the war except for the fact that it's toned down and ends during my seventh year (which we redo since it would be similar to the last year in the harry potter books - looking for horcruxes without actually being at hogwarts). of course, none of my friends die. i haven't accounted for how the war will end exactly, so i suppose i'll let that work itself out organically.

+ main friends : remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, lily evans, regulus black, marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald.

+ relationships : i am a formal part of both the marauders and the valkyries. i became friends with the marauders at the start of the school year, and we were consequently established as a friend group before me and the girls. i tend to spend more time with the marauders but our groups often mingle since everyone gets along (except maybe lily and james at the beginning). i also have some friends in slytherin, such as andromeda and regulus, but i tend to stay away from the anti-muggleborn students.

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 11: map / word count: 755 cw:implied sexual content

The situation is this, in two days it's the wedding of his two best friends IN THE WORLD, which is wonderful and James is so excited for them after all they had to go through to get to this moment. He honestly loves them from the bottom of his heart, but maybe he would love them more if they hadn't decided to have the wedding IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOTHING. When they decided to have it in France since Sirius and his brother lived there with their uncle from the moment they ran away from their parents' house, the idea sounded sensational, but upon discovering the great little detail that it would be in a small rural village with zero signs in English, James slowly began to panic a little.

And here he is now, without a map since his phone lost all signal and internet access and subsequently ran out of battery, stuck in an old unheated rental car on a dirt road waiting for an endless flock of sheep to cross and not knowing a lick of French apart from "Bonjour" which won't help in this situation. Oh, and it's now pouring. Fantastic.

And you see, of course James has already considered going out and shooing the sheep out of the way, but contemplating he doesn't know where he's going, that wouldn't be good for the sheep who are probably just trying to get back to their pen, or anyone else. That's the only reason, of course it's not because he's afraid of the sheep. Definitely it isn't. 

When the daylight was almost completely gone and James was resigned to die waiting there (why do they need so many sheep in such a small town), a tapping on his window made him jump out of surprise at the thought that the sheep had finally agreed to hasten his death. A horse and its rider were standing by his window, but in order to see his face James had to roll down the pane and poke his head slightly out of the window.

"Vous avez besoin d'aide?" 

James had never regretted not speaking French as much as he did at this moment. The man on the horse looked like something straight out of a "Horse and Rider" magazine, but hotter. With his shiny black boots, wet shirt clinging to his body highlighting his strong arms and abs, and black curls accompanied by the most stunning pair of silver eyes James had ever seen in his life. So what if he wants this god to fold him in half? Sue him.

"Sorry, I don't speak French," James said sadly, putting an end to his fantasy.

"No problem, I just asked if you needed any help." replied the man on horseback in such a fluent way catching him off guard, but with a divinely thick accent. Fantasy resumed.

Oh, a deity had definitely decided to come down from Olympus to personally help James.

Later, inside the castle that Reg called home, and insisted on taking him because, and quoting him, "it's dangerous to drive around here so late at night, lots of wild animals", James emerged from the shower with only a towel wrapped around his hips, not expecting the silver-eyed man to be waiting for him with clean, dry clothes in the room. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the heat he felt as he was scanned up and down by that hungry gaze. So in a moment of enlightenment he remembered the only French phrase he knew.

"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?"

"God, if you weren't so hot I'd be feeling so much cringe right now."

James's prayers of being folded in half were answered that night.

The next morning, he awoke to feel the warmth on his right side move and Sirius's horrified screams.

Hold on. Rewind. 

Sirius? So he was able to find the address in the end?

"Really James? My baby brother? And this is why you weren't answering your phone? We thought you were dead!"

Oh, so it is “Reg” as in Regulus. Wow.

“I died and went to heaven.” 

And in the blink of an eye Sirius was on top of him trying to throttle him.

In the end, all the necessary explanations were given. Sirius wasn't happy at first to learn that Regulus and James could become more than a one-night stand, but he eventually accepted it and the wedding went off without a hitch.

James had never been so grateful for a flock of sheep before.

[headingalaxys-spicy]

I've never read anyone write about a yandere with a lover who just unconditionaly loves them, so can we get just that? For the F.A.C.E fam (seperately), they were taking care of someone who they believed was getting in the way of their relationship. And then his love walked in on them, but instead of freaking out and booking it like any sane woman she just started frantically trying to hep out with the body and telling them to hurry up! Because she's not willing to lose them, even if it means becoming an accomplice of their crime.

Me: Ooooooh me like a challenge! Hope you like!

Warning: TW is kinda violent and mentions blood. So maybe not a read for everyone.

France

The Parisian air still held onto a little more warmth from the late summer sun. A few fireflies accompanied you on your way home. In your arms, you had plenty of sweets to pair with your decadent wines in the home that you and Francis shared, from Charlotte aux Framboises, Eclair geants, Pate de fruits framboise, freshly roasted hazelnuts & more. You wanted to show Francis you thought his affection toward you was sweet. 

So dinner tonight be damned! 

You wanted him to relax tonight & not have to worry about going to the shops to find the best ingredients for tonight's dish. The two of you could just be filled to the brim with sweets and be drunk off the wine and the-

You began to notice there were droplets of blood that got bigger as you approached your apartment. 

‘No. No…He’s hurt!!!’ You almost drop all of your treats in your hassle to get to your lover. You burst open the door to see Francis’ clothes coated in blood. To your relief, it seemed not to be his but that of the overly flirtatious coworker from your magazine label you’d complained about to Francis before.  

When Francis turned his head to see your figure, he was relieved momentarily to see your pleasant face. That moment was short-lived when he realized he would have to explain the gory scene before you. He was going to have to think of a palatable lie, beg, and-

“Darling! Darling!” You rush towards him and caress his face. It had a few droplets of the annoying mans blood on it mixing in with his sweat. You give him a kiss on the forehead & stare him dead in the eyes. 

“How can you be so reckless, Mon Choue?” (My sweetie) You left a trail leading right to you!” 

Very few people in this world could make Francis flustered as you had. Your reaction made him feel light as if he were in a daydream. You weren’t terrified. That means there was nothing he had to hide from you. There was a significant amount of solace that slowed down his quickly speeding heart. 

“You don’t have to explain. I can put 2 & 2 together. But my love, we do have a narrative to create and tracks to cover~” You gently rubbed your nose to his. Your fingers rubbed his stubble as you now could be at ease now that one of your biggest pests had been taken care of. 

“Yo…You’re not mad..or scared… or…” 

You seal his lips with a satisfying pop. 

“I’m not afraid, Mon Choue. I’ll help with the cleanup. I’m just somewhat concerned about….” Your eyes wandered back to the scarlet explosion that led you here. Francis's bright blues eagerly followed. 

You utilized your IT skills to hack into the security cameras that monitored your apartment complex. You erased all of the footage that had Francis dragging that nuisance that had been plaguing your life for the past couple of months. You do the same for any other potential camera that might have held evidence of the murder. 

You bleached the ground and the floors that had the red DNA discreetly. You loved your French man and would do anything to protect him. You assisted him in getting the body to the Seine River and attaching cinder blocks to the body bag so there wasn’t a likely chance it would resurface. 

America

You’d been distracted by nostalgic video games like Nintendogs, Animal Crossing & other saccharine games of the like. It had been 7-hours since Alfred last texted you. That’s the longest he’d gone without sending you cute, witty texts, gifs, memes etc. You sent him another text at around 16:34. Your eyes stared longingly at the small rectangular screen. 

“He must be super busy today, but he’ll text me soon.” You simply wanted him to be home already. You had DoorDashed pizza and burgers from his favorite local joint in case he was extra hungry. Your mind tries to refocus your attention on your video games but to no avail. Something felt off. You could feel unease rise in the pit of your stomach. 

“Maybe I didn’t fill the pantry up enough for the weekend….” You slid on your slippers & made your way downstairs. As you passed the basement door you noticed it was slightly ajar. 

“Hm? Could he be home already? I didn’t hear him come in….” You heard a few bumps & grunts from down below. Your heart dropped into your stomach. 

‘He could be hurt! Or maybe an intruder!’ You quickly grab the hidden 9mm that was hidden beneath a secret compartment from the staircase. You pushed open the door and called out into the dimly lit place. 

“Alfred! Alfred! Are you down here?” 

The hairs on the back of Alfred’s neck stand up on high. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He cursed under his breath. Alfred tried to hide the mutilated corpse of your creepy “friend” who was in your core friend group for some reason. He was the type that relentlessly flirted with you. What made it worse is the scumbag somehow had a fiance. Alfred believed that not only was he doing your relationship a favor but the entire world. 

He just wasn’t prepared to unveil his darker yandere tendencies to you today. He hastily found a tarp to cover the body. 

“Alfred! Alfred! Are you down here, babe?” Your footsteps cautiously descend the stairs. He could hear the concern in your voice, so he knew he had to answer. He swallowed hard and finally said: 

“Yes, babe! I’m down here! Just uh….working on a project.” You picked up on the nervousness in Alfred’s voice. When your lover was finally in your sight, he jumped a little and stood in front of the table that had the body that was mostly covered by the tarp. 

A dismembered arm had made a mushy ‘thud’ to the concrete floor. There was a pregnant silence that suffocated the both of you for a few moments. As your eyes and brain processed the scene that was before you. You broke out into a boisterous cackle. 

“Oh my god Alfred! Who did you kill?” Still laughing. You knew when you started dating him he had some malevolent quirks hidden beneath his sunny & fun exterior but that’s why you adored him. 

“You know that one asshole, Jason, who was a pest & flirted with you & always tried too hard to be around you and your friends.” 

“Oh my god, yes! Finally! That creepy bastard is dead!” You rush over to him & embrace him warmly. 

“Thank you, Alfred!” You gently peck his lips. You could tell from the sparkle in his deep blue hues that he was pleasantly surprised and relieved. 

“You’re welcome Y/N.” 

“I’ll help you with the body later. Just wash up. I DoorDashed us Pizza and Burgers. And you know those don’t taste great cold.” You give him a final peck on the lips before your phone alerts you that your food has arrived. 

“See you upstairs, my love.~” 

You shoot the body a couple of times to let out some of your former frustrations. You hated this guy as much as Alfred did. So assisting him with disposing of the body brought you a sadistic type of joy. 

The two of you decide to dissolve the body in acid along with any of his personal items. No trace of him would be left in this world. It brought the two of you great joy when he appeared on unsolved mysteries years later. 

Canada

The shovel quickly moved the mushy dirt aside. The freshly falling snowfall made it difficult for Matthew to keep up the momentum. He’d been at this for a few hours now. The sunlight was beginning to fade. Matthew still had a few more feet to dig before the gave could be acceptable. He had to ensure that the body of the pesky bus driver was where his body would never see the light of day ever again. 

Matthew was a mile and a half out in the thick Acadian forest, where he shared a cabin with you. 

He kept digging so he could secure a future with you. It was imperative to him that you were never to know of the heinous acts that he carried out. He wanted nothing more than to protect you and the relationship he cherished with you. That couldn’t happen if that bus driver continued to harass you on the daily. You came home every day stressed out. It hurt his heart when you came home frustrated about his not-so-subtle comments about your appearance.  

Each night, you rambled on about how uncomfortable the interactions made you feel. Some days, you nearly broke down before him, but you quickly rushed to your room. You didn’t always feel comfortable constantly complaining to him. You hated burdening him this much since you knew he didn’t have a family that was incredibly attentive to him. 

Some of Matthews's tears touched the snow while others slid down into his comfy red flannel. It was difficult for him to reconcile his flurry of feelings he had for you. 

“Matthew! Matthew! Where are you?!” He heard your voice call out to him in the darkness. The light from your flashlight slowly approached him. 

His heart turned into a brick of ice. You couldn’t see! You couldn’t know! He halted in his activities in an attempt to avoid being caught. 

‘Oh, Y/N! Just go back home! I’m okay!’ The sound of your boots crunching on the fresh snow got closer. Matthew could see the light from your flashlight touch trees that were only a few feet away from him. 

‘No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Go back Y/N! Go back!’ The fear of you leaving him gripped him intently. He’d have to harm you, possibly even prevent you from seeing the light of day. However, freeze mode kicked in, and he put his back against the large tree behind him. His grip on the shovel's handle tightened. He closed his eyes as he heard your voice from only three feet away. Matthew silently hoped that he and the body would turn invisible. 

“Matthew! Matthew! Sweetheart, it’s getting late! What are you doing out here? Aren’t you cold? Aren’t you hungry? I have maple-flavored hot chocolate and dinner ready at home!” Hoping to entice him to come home with you. 

You knew something was off when you saw the supply closet door was wide open & drops of red had been scattered in various places all over your home. You worried about him being injured from hunting or playing hockey. Either way, you were determined to find out. The large boot prints led you directly to him since you’d made it out in time before the snow began to cover up his tracks. You crouched down to Matthews's level as he cowered beneath the tree. Tears were streaming down his face as he held the shovel close to his chest. 

“Matthew! Thank god! There you are!” You tried to remove the shovel from his hands so you could give him a proper hug.

“No! Y/N NO!” He shouted in defense. 

“Mattie, honey…..” You swept aside some of his wavy blonde hair and stroked his freezing cheeks. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“I….” He sniffed a few times before he continued. “I…” Choking on more tears. “If I …tell you… you won’t love me anymore!” Matthew began to bawl his eyes out as you took stock of the surrounding area. Your flashlight caught a glimpse of the lifeless body of that asshole bus driver. Relief took you over as you finally understood. 

So you began to laugh. 

Matthew was caught off guard by your positive reaction. His tears began to stop flowing. 

“You’re …you’re not angry?” 

“HA! HA! Hell no! You just got rid of a major nuisance to me hahaha!” Your shiny (eye color) orbs met with his reddened violet hues. You give him a reassuring peck on the forehead. 

“Come now! Let’s burn the body and spread the ashes in a lake.” 

Matthew is over the moon, knowing he doesn’t have to hide his dark side from you. You assist him in getting rid of the blood stains, trail, and all signs of struggle. You’d do anything for your teddy bear boyfriend's soon-to-be husband. 

England 

The fine China clinked satisfyingly as you set it out in its perfect places on the table. You were prepping for your late evening tea, which you and Arthur enjoyed doing together. You loved hearing about his day, what new book caught his fancy at the library or the bookstore. You were almost done prepping the various homemade jams. You looked over your shoulder to see how much more time was left before your cookies were done. It read 2:30. The mix of sweet shortbread & chocolate morsels mixing together was intoxicating. 

You were eager to see Arthur’s reaction to your perfected recipe. 

Your eyes wandered to the shed, where a light had been on for the last few hours. It shined brightly against the darkened grass. 

“Hmmm. I wonder what Arthur could be doing in there. Maybe he’s doing some more occult stuff.” You heard thunder begin to roll in from the distance. Just then, a bolt of lightning struck across the midnight blue sky. Tiny droplets of rain began to pelt the kitchen window. 

Finally, your beloved British man emerged from the shed. He looked a little more disheveled than usual. You wondered if he was actually able to summon a demon that he wasn’t capable of controlling. You heard his Oxfords climb the wooden steps that reached the backdoor. 

“Welcome back, Arthur dear~” As you said that, you heard him jump a little right as he rushed past the kitchen and into the laundry room. 

The timer had gone off. 

Your cookies were done. As you went to retrieve them, Arthur finally responded to you from the laundry room.

“Ah! Yes, hello, Y/N, love!” He is not doing a great job of hiding the nervousness in his voice. Concerned, you take off your oven mitts & follow the muddy tracks that you noticed have curious red spots within them. 

“Arthur, are you alright? Did you injure yourself, my love?” Anxiety pierced your heart, and you wondered if you needed to be prepared to rush him to the hospital. When you got to the laundry room, you saw Arthur hunched over the laundry basket. He’d already taken off his sweater that had blood tainting 65% of it, and He was just about to undo his button-up shirt, which wasn’t spared from being touched by the scarlet. 

“Y/N!” He jumped like a frightened cat that came face to face with an angry bulldog. 

“Arthur, what’s wrong, dear? Did you get hurt??!!” Worried and finally catching his bright green eyes. You scanned the rest of his clothing to see that blood you assumed had been splattered all over them. 

“No, I’m not hurt love..just….” He really didn't want to tell you the truth. His eyes hung down to the bright white tiles of the laundry room floor. 

You walked closer to him and took his pale, clammy face in your hand. You stroked his cheek gently to reassure him. You gingerly brought your hand to his chin and made your eyes connect sincerely. 

“Arthur, if it’s something serious…. You have to tell me. We’re lovers. We’re a team. That comes with unwavering trust.” The words that came from you made his heart flutter and sink at the same time like a lifevest being attached to a heavyweight. There was the fear that you would leave him and be afraid. Arthur knew he’d have to keep you quiet by reconditioning you and erasing your memories. Then came the comfort he no longer had to hide his far more morbid side. You loved him for him and all of him. 

“Arthur….” He could tell that you were becoming somewhat impatient. 

“Okay…okay..” He grabbed both of your hands to prevent you from running away & for emotional support. Arthur dragged in a deep breath before he blurted out: 

“I killed Dan! That stupid wanker who kept making passes at you! I hated how he always managed to put his phone number on the side of your coffee cup! I hate how he stalks your social media! And has the bloody fucking audacity to try and stalk you!” 

Your expression was unreadable for a moment until you let out a long sigh of repose. 

“If that’s really all, then you’ve just made my life a thousand times easier.” You peck him on his lips and tussle his wet hair. 

“I love you, Arthur, but we will have to…” You looked at the blood that was on your hand. “Make sure all the evidence is gone. I’ll draw you up a bath & mop up the floor.”

With that, you disappeared from his view, whistling a happy tune as you worked out some creative alibis in your mind.

[luckycheesefoodie321]

So Japan vs Argentina is happening today in volleyball…

9pm AEST.

Did I scream “OIKAWAAAA” when I saw the Argentina team pass by during the opening ceremony? Yes.

Am I gonna watch the match purely for weeb reasons? Yes.

Do I have shame? No. Absolutely not.

Do I know any of the players? Nope. I mean idk maybe. Sometimes volleyball crosses my TikTok fyp.

Do I want just ONE WEEB to be part of the Olympic audiovisual crew so that they can be like “hehe watch this” and play Imagination, Fly High or Hikari Are during the entrances of the Japan and Argentina teams/during the breaks and proceed to watch every anime fangirl in the crowd gasp?

MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF

I just want one weeb French person to be in our corner and play the people’s anthem. Take one for the team. Even if it isn’t an approved song on the list.

Like Argentina has openly claimed Oikawa as their own (or like their volleyball association). And I know it isn’t as on point as it was during the Japan Olympics. But at this point the Japan team has the Haikyuu theme songs blasted wherever they go. They were just in Philippines and that is a country full of anime guys and girlies and they didn’t stop blasting it between sets XD

So a sincere request. If one of you works at the Olympics and is overseeing the playlist for the volleyball matches. Just. Do it for us. Slip one Haikyuu theme in. Please.

[lieslab]

Duck, duck, goose

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: I.N x gn reader

Summary: After a heated argument, I.N finds you at the river and hopes to make it up to you.

Genre: Angst & fluff

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: Even though it's Christmas Eve and Christmas day for some of you, it doesn't feel like Christmas to me. This is set in a warmer time period mainly because I miss spring. Anyway, happy holidays!! I hope you're all having a great time and if you're not, I hope this can provide a little comfort and be a gentle reminder that life won't always be so cold <3

_ _ _

You couldn’t even remember what it was about. Everything happened so fast, it was a blur. Words were thrown at one another. Fists were clenched, tensions were high, and faces were scrunched with fury. In the heat of the moment, you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the apartment. 

Things had been brewing between the two of you for a while. It was only a matter of time before someone snapped. You tried not to let your relationship with your boyfriend get to that point, but sometimes external factors built up. Neither of you were perfect at the end of the day. 

A soft quack pulled you out of your thoughts. You smiled at the ducks bobbing down below in the river ripples. Once one began to quack, another started, and then another. Soon you were met with a chorus of them. 

“Alright, alright, I hear you.” A melodic laugh left your lips. You scooped a hand into the ziplock bag you were holding and tossed another handful of duck food into the Han River. 

The group of Mallard ducks dived head-first to try and retrieve the grain. Their brown feathers ruffled and their bright green heads dived beneath the ripples. There was always a group of ducks here whenever you were here. Since you loved animals, they captured your attention. 

After a bit of research, you ordered duck food online and had it shipped to your apartment. Ever since that moment, when life became too overbearing, you found yourself at the edge of the Han River duck watching. It took a few days before the ducks realized you didn’t mean to harm them. 

Watching their multi-colored buoyant bodies bounce up and down provided you with a sense of tranquility. Their beady eyes were always on you curiously or impatiently. They studied the unfamiliar being who gave them food with caution. Usually, humans stayed further up towards the bank. 

Around them, you stayed quiet. When you spoke, you spoke softly so as not to alarm them. You were over ten times their size. One wrong move and you were sure you’d startle them and they’d swim away from the shore. 

Their webbed feet kicked and propelled themselves towards the bobbing grains bits that had floated away due to the movement of the water. The longer you watched them, the more you found your heart rate returning to a normal speed. Your adrenaline had been high when you stormed out of your apartment. 

Footsteps approached you and someone sat down next to you. You didn’t bother looking over to see who it was. You knew just by the oily scent of french fries and beef. You threw in another handful of grain and watched the ducks go wild. 

“I thought you’d be here,” I.N spoke after a few moments of silence. “A few weeks ago, you said the Han River was your safety net. You said it was the place you went to clear your head.” 

You meekly nodded and continued watching the ducks. Your anger had dissipated by this point. It was replaced with a sense of guilt. You should have tried to take the rational approach instead of screaming at your boyfriend when things became heated on his end. 

“Can I try to feed them?” 

You glanced over to look at him. He sat looking at you with his legs crossed beneath him. His hands sat idly in his lap with a variety of silver rings on them. You side-eyed the ducks, but they didn’t seem to mind his presence. The ducks were too preoccupied with the ziplock of grain in your own lap. 

“You might want to take off your rings. Sometimes they get impatient and lunge. They like sparkly things and I learned that the hard way after one of them pecked one of my rings.” 

He nodded and began to pull off his rings. You dumped some of the grain and tossed out your hand to show him how to feed them. He did as he was told and when the ducks dived for the grain, a smile lit up his face. 

“I understand why you like it here so much.” 

Right now, everything outside was perfect. It wasn’t too warm and it wasn’t too cold. Up overhead, the sky was a Columbia blue. The two of you were in jeans and t-shirts. A delicate breeze kissed your skin every now and then. The vast blue river in front of you rippled with small waves.

At mid-day, the park you took refuge in was flooded with people. A lot of people didn’t work on Saturday, so people had time for themselves. Couples and families were scattered around lush green grass on blankets. Children laughed and couples gazed at each other lovingly. Their voices added ambiance to your spot near the river. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

“It’s perfect,” you corrected him. 

“It is perfect,” he agreed. 

The two of you went silent again. I.N handed the ziplock of duck food back to you. There was only one handful left. You sprinkled it out onto your hand and held it towards the water. 

“Okay, this is your last one. I don’t have any more after this.” You threw your hand out and sprinkled the last bits of grain into the water. 

A laugh spilled from you which caused I.N to smile. In a rush, one of the ducks rammed into another and sent it bobbing backwards. The duck quacked loudly before it spun in another direction. It’s webbed-feet padded quickly to pick up the bits of grain floating away from the others. 

You zipped the ziplock and placed it back in your bag. You wasted no time pulling out your hand sanitizer, squirting it on your hand, and then offering some to your boyfriend. He held his hand out and let you squirt some into it. The two of you continued to sit in silence while you rubbed the sharp scented liquid into your hands. 

I.N was the first one to break the silence again. “I came to say I’m sorry. It was irrational of me to take my anger out on you. I’m stressed, but that was no excuse.” 

“I should be the one apologizing,” you interrupted. “I shouldn’t have yelled back when you raised your voice, but you caught me at the wrong time.” You shook your head. “I only added fuel to your fire.” 

“So maybe we were both in the wrong, but I came with an offering of forgiveness.” He pulled up the bag of McDonalds beside him and held up a rolled up blanket. Beside him, there was a drink carrier with two drinks in it. 

You couldn’t help, but snort at his actions. 

“What? Is there something wrong with it?” A teasing smile sat on his face. 

You shook your head. “There’s nothing wrong with it, but I’m surprised I guess. I didn’t think you’d come find me, let alone bring food. I would have come back to the apartment sooner or later.” 

“I know, but I knew you hadn’t eaten yet and neither had I. I thought about a picnic, but I didn’t know if I’d find you here and I didn’t know how long you’d be here.” 

You glanced back down at the river. The ducks were still staring at you. You watched one of them eye the bag of food. They must have been able to smell it. 

“Let’s go before the ducks try to come after us.” You pushed yourself up and held a hand out to I.N. After helping him, you grabbed the drink carrier and slung your back over your shoulder. The two of you headed away from the river bank. 

You finally found a spot away from other people. The two of you talked and laughed while you ate. The anger from earlier melted and you were back to normal. Neither of you held a grudge against the other. Smiles were on both your faces. 

You were finishing the last of your food when I.N offered to play a game with you. You raised an eyebrow and placed another french fry in your mouth. A grin lit up his face. 

“Do you know how to play duck, duck, goose?” 

“Duck, duck, goose? Like the elementary school game?” 

“The one where you go around and tap everyone’s head and call them duck. When you call someone a goose, they get up and you run around the circle trying to beat them and sit in their spot so you’re not it again. Yeah, that one.” 

“What about it?” 

“Do you want to play it?” 

“How are we going to play it with two people?” 

“Easy! Come on! Can we?” His grin grew, “it’ll be fun!” 

There was no way you were going to say no to him. He looked so happy with his grin and concave dimples. You brushed your hands together to get rid of the salt sticking to your fingertips. After wiping the grease on a napkin, you nodded. 

He pushed himself up off the red and white checkered blanket. Walking around the edge of the large square shape, he began heading towards you. When he reached you, his hand gently hit the top of your head. “Duck.” 

He continued walking around the square. Your heart was pounding with anticipation. He walked behind you again and touched the top of your head, “duck.” He continued and looped around the square again and patted your head once more. “Duck.” 

The next time he headed your way, you were positive. You were ready to push yourself up and chase after him. A fiery determination to beat him filled your veins. He moved closer to you and you remained on edge. His hand touched the top of your head and you were about to push yourself up. 

“Duck.” 

“Jeongin!” You cried out. 

He let out a laugh and continued on his merry way. He reached you and called out duck again. You sulked and crossed your arms over your chest. You were beginning to think he’d never say goose. He did it twice more before he approached you again. 

You were slumped over at this point. Reaching for your drink, your fingers were nearly there when his hand hit the top of your head again. “Goose!” 

“Hey!” 

He laughed and began running around the edge of the blanket. You shoved yourself up, nearly tripping in the process, and began to chase him. His mischievous laughter floated through the air. Since you were caught off guard, he already had a head start. 

It wasn’t a surprise when he plopped down in your spot. He beamed with a sly grin. Your chest moved up and down heavily from the sudden burst of energy. You bent over and grabbed your knees. 

“That is so not fair!” 

“Hey, you agreed to play the game.” 

“But I-” 

“I followed the rules!” 

A scowl sat on your face. As annoyed as you were, he was right. It wasn’t against the rules to say duck as long as you wanted to. You let out a sigh and plopped down beside him. He laughed and crawled over towards you. 

“Did I hurt my baby’s feelings?” He cooed in a baby voice. 

“Stop it,” your face went bright red. 

“Aw, I’m so sorry about that.” He reached up and gently pinched your cheek. 

You swatted his hand away and pulled back. He laughed and sat back in the spot you had been sitting in. “You’re fun to tease.” 

“Just for that,” you reached down and grabbed one of his french fries. Without hesitation, you took a bite of it. “Wow, that’s delicious.” 

“Hey!” He cried out as he scrambled towards the remainder of his uneaten food. “Get out of here you vermin!” 

You laughed and pushed yourself away from his side of the blanket. Crawling back to your own side of the blanket, you frowned realizing your own box of fries were missing. “Where are my fr-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, your boyfriend took off running. The bright red box of french fries were in his hand. You pushed yourself up and hurried after him. “Jeongin, come back here!” 

“Gotta catch me first!” 

You chased after him begging him to come back. There were no signs of the argument you had earlier. The teasing playfulness eradicated the red hot anger from earlier. Over in the water, the ducks watched the two of you. One of them quacked. 

Humans; they’d never understand them.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @s3ungmins

Masterlist

[tomcat-reusables]

Wes Anderson's kill count, a result of having too much time on my hands, spoiler: it's complicated.

Firstly, referencing the title, Wes Anderson himself has never killed anyone (at least I hope), but people sure do die in his films sometimes. The question is, exactly how many?

ALSO WARNING!! SPOILERS FOR ALL MOVIES AHEAD! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

The Conditions -

This is a low estimate, meaning only characters who are confirmed to have died are counted. However, if a character is stated to have died and later been resuscitated, they will also be counted. Animal deaths will only be counted if the animal is a character or their death plays a role in the story (for example hunting, or a character eating meat does not count). I will only add to the kill count if I have an exact number, so saying for example, "a lot of people died" means zero for these purposes.

Bottle Rocket

No one died in this one.

Death toll: 0

Rushmore

Eloise Fischer - cancer - 47

Edward Appleby - drowning - age unknown

The Royal Tenenbaums

Helen Tenenbaum - unknown - 55

Rachel Tenenbaum - Plane crash - 35

Royal Tenenbaum - heart attack - 68

Buckley - Hit by car - age unknown

Mrs Sherman - stomach cancer - age unknown 

Death toll: 5

The Life Aquatic

Esteban Du Plantier - eaten by shark - age unknown

Ms Plimpton - overdose - age unknown 

Ned Plimpton - blood loss due to injuries in helicopter crash, likely impaled by helicopter parts - 30

Filipino pirate - bullet to neck - age unknown 

Alastair Hennessey's crew (at least 12 individuals) - cause of death unknown - ages differ

Pirates in hotel (at least 12 individuals) - explosion - ages differ

Death toll: 28

The Darjeeling Limited

Jimmy Whitman - hit by taxi - age unknown

Francis Whitman - motorcycle crash - 39-40

Child crossing river #3 - drowning - age unknown

“One of the sister’s brothers” - eaten by tiger - age unknown

Death toll: 4

Fantastic Mr Fox 

Rat - electrocution - age unknown

Fantastic mr Fox’s father - cause of death unknown - 7 ½ non fox years old 

Death toll: 2

Moonrise Kingdom:

Snoopy - shot by bow and arrow - age unknown 

Sam Shakusky’s mother - cause of death unknown - age unknown 

Sam Shakusky’s father - cause of death unknown - age unknown

Death Toll: 3

The Grand Budapest Hotel: 

Madame D-U-T - poisoned - 84

Jopling - pushed off cliff - age unknown

The author - cause of death unknown - age unknown 

Agatha - illness - age unknown

Agatha and Zero’s child - cause of death unknown - age unknown

M Gustave - shot - somewhere in his forties 

Kovacs - murdered by Jopling - age unknown

Serge X - murdered by Jopling - age unknown 

Headless girl - murdered by Jopling - age unknown 

Kovacs’s cat - murdered by Jopling - age unknown 

Death Toll: 10

Isle of Dogs

Dog in Spots’s kennel - starvation - age unknown

Dog referenced - hung by own leash - age unknown 

Professor Watanabe - poisoned - age unknown 

Atari’s mother - train crash- age unkown 

Atari’s father - train crash - age unknown 

Indigenous dog leader - cannibalised - age unknown

Death Toll: a shockingly low 6, because this operates off of confirmed deaths only. If speculated deaths were counted, Isle of Dogs would likely be the highest by far.

The French Dispatch:

Moses Rosenthaler victim #1 - murder - age unknown

Moses Rosethnaler victim #2 - murder - age unknown

Arthur Howitzer Junior - heart attack - 75

Zeferelli - Electrocuted - 19 

The 8.25 bodies pulled from the Blasé river each week, The French Dispatch definitely takes place over at least three months (evidenced by the riot storyline) , so we’ll multiply this by four and minus one for Zeffirelli, making it 98 - causes of death unknown - ages vary 

72 prisoners - riot - ages vary

6 members of The French Splatter School - riot - ages vary

2 men - shot by Clampette - ages unknown. 

Morisot - jumping from a building - age unknown

Police cadet/nanny - gunshot wound to head - age unknown

7 kidnappers - poisoning - ages vary 

Death toll: 201

Asteroid City

Mrs Steenbeck - illness - age unknown

Conrad Earp - car crash - 50 

Death toll: 2

-

So, without further ado, the lowest possible estimate of the overall kill count from all 11 of Wes Anderson's films is 253, and if you read all of this, I don't know whether to thank you or be concerned.

[mlmxreader]

Such Fine Weather | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Alfie Solomons x Reader (I'm sorry, I'm such a hoe for Alfie. It's not even funny) -> Person B stealing Person A's clothes [Alfie notices something very distinct about the supposed new shirt Reader is wearing] ❞

: ̗̀➛ It's not often that you and Alfie get a chance to rest whilst in the trenches, but sometimes, luck just so happens to be on your side and allow you both just one small sliver of something good amongst the thick and dense grey fog of 1915.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ war, trauma, mentions of shit (literal), depictions of injury and gun violence, swearing, animal death

↳ word count: 1020

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The fields were completely barren. Stripped of every little sign of life from the smallest flower to the biggest beetle, it was all gone. Constant artillery fire and toxic gas took it all away as easily as rain used to bring it all back after the hard winters; yet now was not the time for getting upset over the loss of life.

It was not the time, not when there had been a truce called for the day; the Germans had approached it first, and when the French agreed to it, so did the British.

All three trenches laid down their guns for once, and although they did not cross paths, it was clear to see that the good weather had allowed some sort of good spirit to flood through the thick grey fog.

Alfie had been no exception, as he lounged in a shell crater and used his jacket as a pillow; his hands folded across his stomach, he allowed the sun to kiss his skin, completely bare from the waist up as he felt - for the first time in months - sunlight upon his flesh.

He didn’t care if he burned, he had not felt the sun in too long, constantly stifled by thick fog from gas and smoke and an even thicker uniform. He was glad of it, really - and for the first time in months, he had actually been able to leave you in bed as well.

Usually, you were always up whenever he was, as the perk of being his right hand man and second in command was that you had to go wherever he did; yet you could actually sleep in for once, actually get some fucking rest and properly slip into a sweet slumber.

Oh, it was glorious.

Even if Alfie did wish he was back home in Camden where you both belonged; he did have to ask himself whether or not everyone back home was alright, but he had not heard anything from the new recruits who passed through, so he guessed that all was as well as it could be despite the war.

He hoped his mother was alright, at least.

Alfie knew that you had a difficult time in the trenches, much more difficult than he did; already, you had been shot six times, but despite the surgeon’s orders, you refused to go home. You couldn’t go back without Alfie, even though you couldn’t say that; you had to tell them that you could not leave your men behind instead.

Shot six times and then stabbed with a bayonet - it was a miracle you still had any limbs left at all. But then there was the nightmares, the physical pain without a wound where you had taken the lives of other men, and the fucking bowel issues.

The war went more than flesh deep, and Alfie saw it in your eyes every time he told you that you had to charge alongside the French again - heading straight into certain fucking death. 

But as Alfie began to lose himself in his thoughts, he heard the dry mud crack and slide, and lazily opened one eye; he smiled as he turned his head slightly to look at you.

“D’you mind? You’re takin’ up me sun, sunshine.”

You rolled your eyes as you thudded down beside him, lying on your back and sinking down so that you could rest your head on his shoulder; immediately, you took his hand in your own, and traced the calluses on his fingers like you always did when you were in a good place for the day.

“I’m all the sun you need, matey.”

He laughed softly, trying not to flinch at the sound of distant artillery fire and gunshots; the other trenches weren’t too far off, but they were far enough that he didn’t have to panic about the truce being over just yet. “Whatever you say.”

But he caught a glimpse of your shirt sleeve, and he hummed as he noticed the tear along the cuff from where he had been caught in barbed wire; the cuff had become frayed and baggy from the split, and he knew it as well as he knew the difference between your jacket and his own.

A curious hum left the back of his throat as he realised that you had been scavenging from his “clean” clothes pile; nothing was truly clean, always caked in blood, shit, mud, clay, smoke, vomit… something.

But it was cleaner than some of the other stuff he had, and he wanted to laugh loudly; he just couldn’t bring himself to. Alfie hadn’t been able to laugh loudly since he saw that poor Russian kid get his head blown off by a machine gun - all for laughing together whilst having a cigarette near the shit pits.

“You stealin’ from me, now?”

You shrugged, daring to laugh quietly; you had stopped laughing loudly when you had watched a horse get torn to shreds by the wire whilst you and a few other soldiers had been playing cards nearby. “Just a little bit. Your stuff’s cleaner than mine, Cap.”

“Sure it is,” Alfie scoffed, rolling his eyes fondly. “Next time you’re gonna nick my shit - maybe don’t nick the stuff that’s fuckin’ obviously mine. You know what’d happen if we get caught.”

“One day,” you started, “and I really mean it - one day, we won’t have to hide. Ever. Maybe… maybe that’ll be the only good thing to come out of this war, eh? Maybe they’ll finally let men like us exist.”

Alfie hummed, wanting to agree but he doubted it; he had seen the way politicians talked about men like you and him, and he doubted that the war would do much else except make it all worse.

But you had always been hopeful about it, so maybe… maybe he could believe for a moment. If only because you had mentioned it on such a fine day. “If you reckon so.”

“I do,” you told him with a bright smile. They never could take that from you. “I reckon so, things are gonna change for us.”

thank you so much for reading! If you have any spare change whatsoever, even if it's just £1, then please consider donating to help Deyaa get himself and his family to safety and to escape and survive the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Even just £1 is going to go such, such a long way so please, if you have any money to spare, please consider giving it to Deyaa.

[fatehbaz]

Christmas pudding [...] [is] a boiled mass of suet - a raw, hard animal fat [...] often replaced with a vegetarian alternative - as well as flour and dried fruits that is often soaked in alcohol and set alight. [...] [I]t is a legacy of the British Empire with ingredients from around the globe it once dominated [...].

Christmas pudding is a relatively recent concoction of two older, at least medieval, dishes. [...] “Figgy pudding,” immortalized in the “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” carol, appeared in the written record by the 14th century. [...] During the 18th century, the two ["plum pottage" and "figgy pudding"] crossed to become the more familiar plum pudding – a steamed pudding packed with the ingredients of the rapidly growing British Empire of rule and trade. The key was less a new form of cookery than the availability of once-luxury ingredients, including French brandy, raisins from the Mediterranean, and citrus from the Caribbean.

Few things had become more affordable than cane sugar which, owing to the labors of millions of enslaved Africans, could be found in the poorest and remotest of British households by mid-century. Cheap sugar, combined with wider availability of other sweet ingredients like citrus and dried fruits, made plum pudding an iconically British celebratory treat, albeit not yet exclusively associated with Christmas.

Such was its popularity that English satirist James Gillray made it the centerpiece of one of his famous cartoons, depicting Napoleon Bonaparte and the British prime minister carving the world in pudding form.

In line with other modern Christmas celebrations, the Victorians took the plum pudding and redefined it [...], making it the “Christmas pudding.” In his 1843 internationally celebrated “A Christmas Carol,” Charles Dickens venerated the dish as the idealized center of any family’s Christmas feast [...].

Three years later, Queen Victoria’s chef published her favored recipe, making Christmas pudding, like the Christmas tree, the aspiration of families across Britain.

Christmas pudding owed much of its lasting appeal to its socioeconomic accessibility. Victoria’s recipe, which became a classic, included candied citrus peel, nutmeg, cinnamon, lemons, cloves, brandy and a small mountain of raisins and currants – all affordable treats for the middle class. Those with less means could either opt for lesser amounts or substitutions [...]. Eliza Acton, a leading cookbook author of the day who helped to rebrand plum pudding as Christmas pudding, offered a particularly frugal recipe that relied on potatoes and carrots. [...] The high alcohol content gave the puddings a shelf life of a year or more, allowing them to be sent even to the empire’s frontiers during Victoria’s reign [...].

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In the 1920s, the British Women’s Patriotic League heavily promoted it – calling it “Empire Pudding” in a global marketing campaign. They praised it as emblem of the empire that should be made from the ingredients of Britain’s colonies and possessions: dried fruits from Australia and South Africa, cinnamon from Ceylon, spices from India and Jamaican rum in place of French brandy.

Press coverage of London’s 1926 Empire Day celebrations featured the empire’s representatives pouring the ingredients into a ceremonial mixing bowl and collectively stirring it.

The following year, the Empire Marketing Board received King George V’s permission to promote the royal recipe, which had all the appropriate empire-sourced ingredients. Such promotional recipes and the mass production of puddings from iconic grocery stores like [Sains-bury's] in the 1920s combined to place Christmas puddings on the tables [...].

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All text above by: Troy Bickham. "How the Christmas pudding, with ingredients taken from the colonies, became an iconic British food." The Conversation. 8 December 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Image and caption shown unaltered as they appear published by Bickham along with the article's text.]