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#Ted Monte
cinemaquiles · 4 months
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Que m... é essa? Uma cópia de Alien e Predador que ninguém viu: Hybrid (1997)
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enumchase · 11 months
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3 pretty best friends <333
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hellomagicalsouls · 11 months
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‼️pretty best friends are still pretty‼️
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have billy and cristo been sharing clothes? looks extremely similar. love them for that
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andthebeanstalk · 1 year
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The Count of Monte Cristo, narration at the start of the book: Edmond is a good sweet young man.
300 pages in: Listen to me. Edmond is better than everyone around him i don't know what to tell you he's just the best that's just how it is.
Me: Nice.
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mearpsdyke · 1 year
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yo no sé ustedes pero siempre que voy a las montañas siento que es mi lugar en el mundo, la pachamama le puso demasiado amor a las montañas de mis pagos
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elchaqueno · 3 months
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Siete organizaciones políticas en riesgo de desaparecer en Tarija por no cumplir disposiciones del TSE
El Tribunal Supremo Electoral (TSE) ha dado a conocer que de las 14 organizaciones políticas con personería jurídica en Tarija, siete corren el riesgo de desaparecer debido a que no han cumplido con la disposición de adecuar sus estatutos, elegir su nueva directiva y actualizar su militancia en el marco de la Ley de Organizaciones Políticas. Solo cuatro agrupaciones han cumplido con estas…
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luizdominguesfan · 9 months
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www.crazyrock.com.br
Amigos: a nova edição com o programa "Só Brasuca" da Webradio Crazy Rock, apresenta mais um grupo de artistas da pesada do Rock brasileiro, e sob o novo formato, no qual eu participo da apresentação junto ao professor Julio Cesar Souza.
Ouviremos o som dos seguintes artistas: Mandraz, Sangue, Máxima Culpa, Cassino Monte Rey, Murilo Sá, Ted Marengos, Stone House on Fire, A Quadrilha, Cores D'Flores, Luga Maluf & Péricles Zenzodiac, Pedro Bala e os Holofotes, Nuvem Leopardo, Coyote Valvulado, Bicho Menino, Gepetos: Almas Brasucas e Pevê.
Serão sete execuções em dias e horários diferentes, entre 29/7 a 4/8 de 2023.
Anote: Sábado, dia 29 - 14 horas Domingo, dia 30 – 20 horas Segunda-feira, dia 31 – 10 horas Terça-feira, dia 1º/8 – 31 horas Quarta-feira, dia 2 – 18 horas Quinta-feira, dia 3 – 16 horas Sexta-feira, dia 4 – 12 horas
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janusfanatic · 1 year
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I just watched Mildred Pierce and now I gotta make it a sanders sides AU bc I’m me and that’s how I process media now I guess. I’m sorry in advance. This one’s gonna be rough
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contentabnormal · 2 years
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This week on Content Abnormal we present Richard Anderson in the Suspense drama “Command”!
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bracketsoffear · 2 months
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I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream (Harlan Ellison) "For the past 109 years, sadistic supercomputer AM has been torturing the last five humans on Earth in the depths of his complex. It is brilliantly intelligent and wields unimaginable power, but because from its very core it was designed as a tool for war and destruction, it is unable to use its enormous potential for anything constructive. AM is painfully aware of this, and it is an endless source of frustration, self-loathing and hatred towards humans for making him this way; he outright states that his utterly ballistic hatred for all human life is what allowed him to thrive in tormenting the protagonists for over a century, and the only thing he seems to enjoy is torture. All of AM's games are unwinnable by design, either because he's ensured that the scenario is tailored to the player's fatal flaw, or because he's given them almost nothing to work with. It lets them travel for thousands of miles to get to the ice caverns to obtain cans of food because AM keeps them at starvation point and only feeds them disgusting food…and it turns out there really are cans, but nothing to open them with, and the whole thing was just to fuck with them. After Ted kills the other humans, he becomes the sole target of AM’s torture; he is turned into an amorphous creature unable to harm itself, without a mouth, and has his perception of time continuously accelerated and decelerated, with his only hope for escape being when AM finally stops functioning, potentially thousands of years later."
The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas) "Everything’s going great for Edmond Dantès! He’s getting a big promotion, he’s marrying the woman of his dreams, his whole life is ahead of him.
And then all of that gets ripped away from him in an instant. He is thrown into prison for years, and when he returns, he finds that his enemies who conspired to put him there are thriving.
So, he dedicates himself to getting even. Carefully and methodically, the Count of Monte Cristo goes about destroying the lives of those who took everything from him."
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abubblingcandle · 3 months
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🌹🌹🌷🌹🌹 anything for The Richmond Job? If not a snippet, any fun ideas? (See because I snuck a tulip in. Because one of them’s a grifter)
There's so much so much I wanna share of this but then I don't want to spoil stuff or get people hyped for stuff that's like ... 150k into the story at least lol!
One of the things I am trying to do is build in some Ted Lasso plot points as well but for a heist crew not a football team lol. One of those is Ch24 which is based loosely on the Three Card Monte job and loosely on Man City. Jamie's dad has spent the whole first 23 chapters in prison for taking the fall for a mob hit in Manchester when Jamie was 15 ... but he's just got out and needs a hacker for a job to get back into favour. Ted knows some details about Jamie's dad from various conversations but no one else does. So when he comes back Jamie is trying to keep everyone out of his reach but also not regress all the progress he has made.
Now I thought I had written some of this ... but turns out I just did that in my head and all I had done was put these three scene headings in the plot spreadsheet
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... so I've written a bit of it now
Ted was wiping down one of the tables when a echoing cackle crackled through the pub. “Good lad, good lad,” the man laughed patting Colin on the back as he placed a tray of chips and a pint in front of him. Ted was on edge. This was a pub of course there were going to be drunk patrons and this man looked no different to any of the others. He was portly, probably in his fifties with wirey grey hair that was too long to be fashionable but not long enough to be a style. His leather jacket was too big on him and he dug into the chips like a man starved. But that was no crime. Ted got back to wiping down the tables. “Tell me lad. You worked here long?” the man’s voice was just a touch too loud to be ignored even with the noise of the other patrons. “Yeah a few years now,” Colin replied with a shrug, stacking glasses on his arm. “Ah so you’ll know the locals then. Cause I ain’t been around for a while and heard ont grapevine and all that about an old pal of mine coming here an awful lot,” the man rambled, arms waving like he was using the chip as a baton to conduct an orchestra. “You ain’t heard of a James Tartt around these parts have ya?” he asked. Colin’s face paled and the stack of cups on his arm nearly went clattering to the floor. Ted leapt into action. “Jamie, you listening?” Ted hissed, tapping the earpiece. “Huh, am now,” Jamie’s voice echoed in his head. “I think the guy here that they are meeting is also looking for you,” Ted stated and then slid up next to Colin as Jamie was rattling off concerns a mile a minute through the earpiece. “Colin, you feeling alright lad? I’ll take over here,” Ted beamed, nodding to the man and guiding Colin away. “Stay out of his way,” Ted hissed and then pushed Colin into the kitchen. “Sorry there sir. Colin isn’t feeling too swell. Can I get you anything?” Ted smiled, slipping behind the bar to stand across from the mystery man. “Yeah, asking around for a lad that’s been seen around these parts. James Tartt ring any bells for ya,” the man asked, one eyebrow raised. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking hell. Ted do not engage. Ted listen get out of there do not do anything until I get there,” Jamie squeaked, voice an octave higher than Ted had ever heard it before. So Jamie knew the guy … good to know.
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kr1osz · 5 months
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Dumb rant about the Redacted timeline under the cut!
So I was trying to figure out where Sam was born and the timeline says "Mont Blanc"
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Only problem is Mont Blanc is a mountain in Europe, which yea sure Sam could be European & born on a mountain but later in the timeline this appears;
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Meaning Sam is in fact American.
I did some research and Mont Blanc is referring to a place in Virginia, which I wouldn't mind adding the city if Erik would've put something like "Mont Blanc, Virginia"!
Also for other characters like Vincent it just says what state their from;
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So why does Sam's say Mont Blanc??? Like that shit is so misleading like I thought for a good week that Sam was European! And I was even more confused bc I'm like 90% sure it used to say Virginia, like why change it!? WHY??!!
Anyways, thanks for coming to my Ted talk!!
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feministfandomforever · 2 months
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noodl3s4dayz · 4 months
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Au stuff yippee!!
It had been nearly 14 years since she died. 14 years to move on, to start fresh somewhere new. And move on he did. That’s what Ted kept telling himself, at least. Some people thought he had murdered her, claiming he was only after her money and never even loved her in the first place. He wasn’t anywhere near Monte Carlo when it happened, but that didn’t stop some folks from… speculating. 
Some claimed his life was easier with her “out of the way”. It was a lie. Ted had loved her, very dearly. Her death sent him into a spiral of depression, and when trying to forget she ever existed didn’t work, he tried to remember. Before he moved back to the States, Ted had rifled through her belongings, worn her dresses, looked through photos upon photos of him and her happy, beaming at whoever was taking the picture without a care in the world. That only made things worse. The more he reminisced, the more he wanted— needed to have her back. 
Death doesn’t work that way, Ted reminded himself. He’d been grieving for more than a decade and it nearly drove him mad, and he decided that drowning his troubles in alcohol was the best course of action. It worked, for a while. He forgot, he became detached. Numb. He even tried his luck with women again, unfortunately for him it was a fruitless endeavor. 
The last girl he tried to sleep with had shrieked in terror at what clothing luckily concealed. She had called him a freak. She screamed about how he had the wrong parts, that he was a stitched together monster, not a man. In his drunken, half conscious state he just cried, pleading for her to understand. 
“S’ not my— hic — my f-fault! I was bor— born with it, please don’t leave me—“ he had blubbered, clinging to the woman’s arm for dear life. But she easily overpowered him, clawing his hand off her and dashing out of his spacious bedroom half naked before he could even finish the sentence. A few minutes had passed. Ted sat quietly on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor as he idly kicked his legs, tears streaming down his cheeks. 
~~~
“I c-can’t do this anymore,” he muttered under his breath, not so much to himself as to his long dead lover. The next day he resolved to jump off that bridge he’d walked across with her a couple of times. They had marveled at how the trees on either side of the lake had perfectly framed a view of possibly the most beautiful oak forest he had ever laid his eyes on. Ted shook his head, pushing the now not-so-fond memory away. He pulled on a sweater that had been thrown into some dark corner of his room the night before, and after almost tripping down the marble staircase that led to the entryway, trudged out the front door, not bothering to close it behind him. He didn’t need to, after all. At some point he bent over and vomited during the leisurely walk to his death, mostly out of fear and anxiety for the events to come. 
When he finally reached his destination, he noticed a rather tall man with a large pair of stupid looking orange tinted glasses on his face. He was leaning on the side of the bridge, staring into the distance with a small smile. Ted ignored him and clambered over the side of the wood and metal structure, shaking with fright but determined nonetheless. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward. This was it. This is what he’d wanted to do since she died, and— 
A solid thirty seconds went by and Ted didn’t… feel like he was falling. He cracked an eye open to confirm his suspicions. He wasn’t plummeting to his watery grave. Why? Ted pondered it for a moment, more alert and almost able to think straight now that most of the booze had left his system. He realized he wasn’t falling because there was a pair of meaty hands secured around his middle, effectively stopping Ted’s suicide attempt. Ted clawed at his savior’s hands but they wouldn’t budge, only moving to cross over his chest and drag him back over the side of the bridge. Ted flailed wildly in no particular direction to try and shake off whoever dared keep him from his lover, screaming at the top of his lungs. 
“You— you bastard! Let me go right now you motherf—“ Ted was caught off guard by suddenly being hauled all the way over the railing, the hard landing on his back knocking the wind out of him. Ted hacked and coughed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He heard a groan of pain above him. 
I hope I broke something. 
“Why were you doing that?” A man’s voice asked, and as Ted craned his neck to look up at him he recognized him as the man he’d seen smiling at nothing. 
“Doing what?” Ted wheezed. 
“Trying to kill yourself,” the man answered, seemingly unbothered by the action but instead curious about Ted’s motives. 
“That’s— that’s none of y-your damn business, pal,” Ted grumbled, sitting up and brushing dirt off his jeans. 
The man looked irked but didn’t press any further, extending his hand for Ted to take. Reluctantly, Ted took it and stood up, cursing at the pop his knees made. The two stood in silence for a while, Ted just holding onto the man’s hand. 
“I’m Abner, in case you were wondering,” the man— Abner— said, breaking the awkward stretch of quiet. Ted snorted. 
“That’s a funny name,” he murmured. 
“Theodore, right?” Abner asked. 
Ted stopped responding for a minute and the taller man let his eyes drift down to where Ted’s hand was still firmly gripping his. Ted’s head twitched slightly, and he remembered he was in the middle of a conversation. 
“Wait, how do you—“ 
“Don’t be stupid, sweetheart, I don’t live under a rock,” Abner said before he could catch himself. He cleared his throat and added politely, “I mean, I just like to keep up with how the rich and famous are doing. Not much of anything else to do.” Ted’s mouth curled into a scowl and he yanked his hand away, then looked down in surprise as if he hadn’t previously noticed the contact. 
“Thanks for the help,” Ted deadpanned, crossing his arms and turning to walk back home. Maybe I’ll just hang myself or something. He considered the possibility; it would hurt but it would get the job done. 
“Wait, wait!” Abner called, running up to Ted and placing a hand on his shoulder. 
“Do you need something?” Ted growled.
“How do I know you won’t try it again?” Abner questioned, with just a hint of false sadness in his tone. No doubt pity. 
“Why do you care?” Ted snapped. He pushed the other man away and walked a little faster. 
“Because I know what you’re going through. You loved someone. She either left you or died.” 
Ted froze.
“You don’t know that.” 
“Enlighten me then. What happened?” 
If he turned around, Ted was sure he’d see the man smirking. 
“I— she died, yeah,” Ted mumbled. He paused for a moment before adding, “… and… and how would you know how it feels?” 
“I’ve been divorced. Twice,” Abner explained nonchalantly. 
This is stupid, Ted thought, He’s probably lying to me. 
Ted turned around slowly, having to lift his chin to look the other man in the eye. Abner was not smirking, Ted noted. He looked… somber. Almost. Maybe Ted was just reading into his expression too much. 
“I can tell you don’t believe me,” Abner whispered. 
“I mean I never s-said that but— I— you’re a stranger! I don’t know you! You could just be trying to lure me back to your place to drug me and— and strangle me!” Ted made a dramatic choking gesture to get his point across. 
“If I wanted you to die I would have let you go over that bridge,” Abner said, a little bit of bite to his voice. Ted swallowed hard. 
“D-do you want a drink?” Ted offered. 
                  ~~~
Abner gasped in awe at the interior of Ted’s “humble abode.” Ted casually lied that he just happened to be born into wealth, not bothering with the monotonous details of the farm, or his six siblings, OR the fact that he was lucky to have had a woman– a very wealthy woman— become enamored with him. Telling Abner to make himself at home (hesitantly, as part of Ted was still convinced he was a murderer), Ted descended a well worn staircase to the basement. Ted grimaced at his near barren cellar, making a mental note to get more wine if he decided not to end his own life. He soon emerged from the dark recesses of the space with a bottle of champagne in hand, popping the cork off and taking a swig from the bottle before pouring Abner a glass. 
By the time the sun set most all of the champagne was gone and Ted was crying again. Over her, over not being able to be there, over not even going to her funeral. Both Ted and his companion were seated on a large cushioned sofa. Abner was afraid of scooting closer to Ted’s shaking form but wanted to seem like someone to go to in times of need, all the while. He didn’t have much time to think about it. Ted thrust himself forward and grasped the front of Abner’s coat tightly, sobbing into his chest. 
“I, um, I can relate to that. My first wife had a miscarriage,” Abner muttered, shifting in place, “we were going to name him Nicholas. It was hard on both of us but her especially. She couldn’t…she couldn’t really stand to be around me after that.” Ted smiled slightly at the other man being able to understand the tragedy of death but still kept weeping, staining the front of Abner’s shirt with snot and tears. The taller man just bent over a bit to set his glass on a small table in front of him. He didn’t care about that shirt anyways. He pretended not to, at least. 
That’s when Ted leaned his head back to stare up at him, eyes glassy. Abner didn’t even have a second to react before Ted smashed their lips together. Ted slid his hands from Abner’s lapels to his face, cupping it tightly as if to make sure the man in front of him was real. After a few moments Ted pulled away from Abner’s mouth with a wet smack and an expression of pure dread spreading across his features. 
“I shouldn’t have done that. I— I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he slurred. His head thumped against Abner’s chest; Ted was clearly out cold. The other man blinked a couple of times. He licked his bottom lip, still wet with Ted’s bitter tasting saliva. He briefly considered bashing Ted’s head in and washing his mouth out with soap before opting to place his hands on Ted’s back, tracing his fingers along Ted’s spine. 
“What a sap,” Abner giggled. 
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jamiesfootball · 9 months
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jamie could have the eliot scene where he tries to go talk to his dad and his dad doesn't answer, and it could be like james just got out of prison and jamie wants to go see if they can Fix Things between them now that jamie's life at least isn't so violent anymore and maybe he can help james get on track on the outside so he won't end up back in and and and
and james doesn't answer because he blames jamie for him getting caught in the first place, and jamie tells him about hacking through the door, and he doesn't answer that either but he throws something at the door and jamie flinches back all the way off the porch. and then he just goes home.
and roy's like how did it go? and jamie says it went the best it could have.
Eeeeeeeeeeee ok ok ok but. but. Here's the thing. Jamie's dad is very Nate's-dad-coded to me. So in my mind I had it going more along the lines of The Three-Card Monte job.
Like this:
Even from the street Roy could hear the laughter spilling out of the Crown and Anchor, and after a long day of reconnaissance it called like a reward in waiting.
Roy didn't mind doing legwork for a con- in fact he appreciated Ted's insistence that the team dot their t's and mind their p's and whatever else he wanted them to inflict on the rest of the alphabet. Better prep made for a safer job. Roy had worked for enough men who'd sacrifice the time upfront if it meant getting to the next score faster; he respected that Ted wasn't one of them.
As their feet sloshed through the snow, Jamie kept a running commentary on the dirt he'd dug up in the breakroom. While he'd waited for his crawlers to skim the server (which to hear him tell it, was so laughably out of date that buying something on the company's Wi-Fi ran a bigger risk than riding passenger in Colin's Fiat), he'd learned from Jeanine who'd heard from Alan that Erik-with-a-'k' Davies was the one who'd decided to pass on Jim-from-R&D's project proposal after quarterlies came in low.
Thank fuck Roy'd never had a real job. He didn't know how people put up with it. He'd rather stab his eyes out than pretend to care about breakroom gossip.
But that wouldn't stop him from doing his job. He dutifully noted all the names - Jeanine, Alan, Jim, Erik-with-a-'k' - knowing that even the smallest details could mean the difference between making a cover or blowing the con.
"Can't believe I had to use a photocopier to make copies of the building schematics," Jamie complained for the umpteenth time. He stood back to let Roy open the door for him, despite the fact that it was Roy who was carrying his duffel full of tech. "In this day and age, a company worth billions should really consider digitizing-"
Six things happened at once. Years of experience gave Roy the particular skill to parse the components of a situation in order of importance.
The most concerning, the domino that set the rest in motion, was how Jamie's body froze, a fear response where he'd been at ease a second ago.
Instinct had Roy stepping in front of him, an arm slung protectively over his chest to hide, block, or push him away, whatever was called for.
His eyes hit all the exits: no one blocking the kitchen or alley, and the door behind them remained clear.
Identify the people of interest in the room, the other potential targets he might need to shield: Keeley and Rebecca at the bar, their heads thrown back in laughter. Colin, pleasantly bored or bored-ly pleasant, pouring out a lager for an older bloke.
Assess the older bloke; the only other other person sitting at the bar. Grey slicked back hair and a receding hairline. Steel-toed boots, worn through and poorly kept, so not an actual laborer. Clean, new denim and a mass market coat. An unspoiled duffel bag on the seat next to him. Fresh out of prison, then.
Either hearing the door swing open or feeling the cold breeze that gusted in behind them, the older man turned to look over his shoulder. Head-on he seemed younger than lines on his face implied, and his cheeks flushed ruddy with drink. He grinned (Manchester dental work), and under the guard of Roy's arm, Jamie flinched.
"Well, well, well. Look who's decided to show himself." The old bloke chuckled; it didn't reach his eyes. "If it ain't my own flesh and blood."
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laiqualaurelote · 11 months
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✹ will you ever write the 'let's go steal a Ted' storyline from Trick Plays? or any sequel to Such Great Heists
Unfortunately I have no plans to ever expand upon what happens in 'Crimminal Intent' in Trick Plays, or how Trent might go about stealing a Ted. If ever I were to write a sequel to they will see us waving from such great heists, however, it would be a multi-vignette fic called 'We Might Possibly Have Paris'. It would be set in Paris with the following parts:
Ted and Trent attempt to go on a museum date at the d'Orsay, which - à la the Leverage Date Night Job - is hijacked when a completely separate crew of thieves stage a heist while they're there. This section would be called 'An American in Paris'.
OT3-card monte in which Jamie attempts to Parent Trap a broken-up Roy and Keeley back together by convincing them to steal from Jack. This section would be called 'J'ai deux amours'.
Crossover with Lupin, in which Rebecca and Assane Diop team up to steal a necklace. Assane has a thing for posh dames. Rebecca's impressed by his gentlemanly ways. Maybe they hook up, maybe they don't. This section would be called 'Bande à part'.
Running gag involving Beard and fake Magrittes. This section would be called 'Ceci n'est pas une barbe'.
A Richard-centric section titled 'Le fabuleux destin de Richard Montlaur'.
(from this fic ask game; thanks for the ask!)
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