#THIS WAS MEANT TO BE THE BASIC STEP. i gotta figure out how much of what I planned I’m gonna do bc it’s probably not that much

[exopelagic]

I HAVE RESULTS

[planet-uranie]

cw: some blood, exposed bone, stitching

guess whos back on their bullshit? ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

at some point the goal is to draw a bit of each group (gotta redo my pomefire ones since they felt a bit rough ( ;꒳;) but for now we take baby steps towards it since i wanna draw fanart of like twst ocs too ive got my eyes on a grumpy pomefiore fish and an azul-hating rock and other aus too •ᴗ•

i figured with trey making him slightly off color would make sense since he could reasonably go out amongst the people (never mind his height and build lol) (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

but for cater trying to depict the "basics of a face but not seeing any details" made me think about how thatd look (○´―`)ゞso i figured caterd probs find a way to hide his face in a way that while you can see features from different angles, like the side and such, hed find a way to hide it as much as he could

monster au for twst by @lustlovehart (prologue chapter here and full monster list here) ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) (also meant to say something between now and then but holy shit that lil brain rot blurb was just so gooood ahhhhh and thank you for all the inspo and writing you dooooo ヾ(´⌣`)ノ)

[agentkaz]

kloktober day 5: use a self-insert or oc

time to bring out my oc, xz corrosion! info here if you need a refresher. this is a concept where it's The Future, like if i used her for anything Big and Serious. basically it's like how i'd like stuff to go but also xz's there too!

The warehouse always seemed a little intimidating to Toki, but that meant it was doing a good job at keeping people out. He'd long since stopped needing to breathe, and any damage to his person tended to end up sorting itself out. When it didn't, Skwisgaar was there to help. There wasn't much to worry about in his day-to-day existence.

Still, as he stepped up to the door and waited to get scanned, he couldn't help but feel like this was a dangerous place to be.

"No signs of life detected," a computerized voice stated. "Subject identified as Toki Wartooth. Access approved."

Toki groaned. XZ had been his friend for so many years at this point, and he was pretty sure half of her security measures were just there because it was fun to make people jump through extra hoops. She could have easily just looked at him through one of her cameras and figured out who he was. He'd said he was coming!

As it was, the door opened, allowing him access. He stepped through, and it closed behind him.

It was dark inside, although the low hum of the machinery that made up the bulk of the space working on one project or another made it clear someone was at work here. The lack of light didn't cause much of a problem with Toki's impeccable night vision, though.

"Zees?" Toki called as he walked up to the console on the nearest wall.

"Hey, Toki." The huge monitor lit up with the smiling face of Toki's friend.

"I thoughts you forgots!" he said.

"Nahhhhh. Backup just took a little longer than I expected. Gimme a second."

A panel in the wall slid open, revealing a number of identical green-haired bodies dressed in different outfits. One of them opened its eyes, glowing with a bright green light. The body marched out of the space, the wall sealing up as if nothing had been there in the first place.

XZ walked her body stiffly over to Toki, and then her posture relaxed into something much more humanlike.

"I gotta be the sixth wheel for your date, right? Can't just forget that!"

"It ams't really a dates…" Toki said. "We're just pallin's around!"

"Uh-huh. And then when you all start making out…" XZ smirked at him.

"You don'ts complains abouts that!" Toki said, giving her a gentle shove. She didn't budge.

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon," she said, turning and walking backwards out the door. "Hurry up, or you'll miss out!"

"Waits, Zees, that's Toki's job!" He laughed, chasing after her as she headed outside, where the rest of the band was waiting.

[papaue00]

confession but i have an inkling arthur and abigail were exes, bbuuut please bear with me as i explain (and honestly feel free to fact-check anything i say here)

but first of all, let me be clear that i hate the whole “who’s jack’s father?” discourse. imo it’s pointless and frankly a boring topic, considering many characters have already affirmingly said john is jacks father. so i’m not here to make a case that arthur is jack’s father actually.

what i wanna draw attention to is the period where john left the gang for a year (which is after jack had already been born), because something roger clark said in this panel (the question starts at 41:43 and roger answers a bit later) caught my interest. basically he said there were cut dialogue that alluded to arthur and abigail’s romance, and by rhetorically asking “who knows what happened [during the 1 year john left]?” it’s hard for me not to think it’s his way of suggesting that’s when the relationship happened.

granted, roger also explicitly said those lines/content were cut, but he seemed to also say rockstar conveyed to the two actors that they (rockstar themselves) weren’t doing away with the “attraction undertone”. and that is very much felt, given how they never actually walk back on the things they let arthur write in his journal when it comes to abigail: conflicted thoughts of wanting to marry her, thinking how she’s “the finest woman” he’s known, saving john from prison “for abigail, of course”.

there’s just this really strangely intimate and possessive undercurrent in many things he’s written about her, in a way that would feel very creepy and ooc if she weren’t his at some point.

and it makes me think perhaps when rockstar decided to cut their content, they only did so out of a desire to avoid being overt and unbecoming (probably bc they figured it could be off-putting for fans and subtlety/ambiguity can be more palatable here?), but this shared past about arthur and abigail wasn’t meant to be erased. basically rockstar themselves actually never fully committed to ditching the idea, just decided to be coy about it, handling it in a way so that there’s room for deniability.

and from a story stand point, i think it does make sense? as a bereaved dad (and let’s face it, somewhat of a deadbeat one, too), arthur would definitely take pity on abigail and jack’s situation. if anything, i think arthur’s attempt (be it a conscious or unwitting one) to integrate with them was initially driven by guilt, then probably morphed into actual appreciation/attraction for abigail. for abigail’s side, well, she was abandoned by her true love who (iirc?) denied paternity to their son, that’s gotta enrage her to no end, but also hurt a whole lot. she would definitely appreciate arthur for stepping up and come to care deeply for him in return, but i don’t think she quite shares his level of appreciation.

though by stating this, i’m not in any way trying to frame her as an “ungrateful bitch” who didn’t properly return arthur’s favor— she doesn’t owe arthur love, and i don’t think arthur showed kindness to her with the expectation of winning her over anyway— it’s fair to say arthur did all this simply because he is, well, a good man. so once john eventually returned to the gang and abigail parted ways with arthur, she would be well within her rights to do so, and imo arthur would never in any way berate him or her about this, bc he would know what he had signed up for. that being said, i also don’t think arthur and abigail’s situation was all or nothing. they might never have progressed into true love, but it’s also not unrealistic to think they started being intimate at some point, if only to cope with their problems or try to move on from their pasts (this is assuming abigail gave up hope of john coming back.)

as a bottom line, i guess i wanna say i wrote all of this to sort out my cognitive dissonance. the idea of arthur/abigail is alienating to me and i used to try to pretend it didn’t exist, but the intent is so undeniably there that i kind of started getting frustrated whenever i see people tiptoe around it, coming up with multiple unsatisfactory explanations and never getting into the meat of it, to the point i think it’s just more sincere and liberating? to just confront it lmao. now i’ve come to regard it as an interesting aspect about arthur.

[eccentric-nucleus]

covid stuff

the last several years have really done a number on my emotional wellbeing. like i would have already said on the whole i tend to be a fairly unhappy person but it's definitely gotten substantially worse with covid. basically every time i go out there are these waves of sadness and anger that just kinda wash over me continually. it's not great.

i don't really like being around people. when i was a kid i got yelled at a lot for, like, not wanting to go to the babysitter's, not wanting to spend time around other people, not really wanting to be in any kind of position where i could be observed by other people. there was a lot of, you know, "listen everybody has to deal with other people sometimes, and part of existing in society is not making things an enormous hassle for other people". yeah yeah plenty of stuff makes you miserable but it is genuinely not the responsibility of other people to restructure their whole lives around whatever upsets you; sometimes you have to just suck it up and deal for the overall good of, like, society. sure. it feels like i am constantly tolerating a lot of things for the good of society

and then covid hits, and it becomes clear that nobody really meant that, not really. i learned the lesson wrong and thought the point was 'for the good of society' and not 'people should never be expected to restructure their lives'. oh, right, it was always about normality all along. if keeping things normal requires hassling some introverted kid, then we gotta hassle that kid. if keeping things normal requires millions dying and who-know how many getting serious, still-unknown long-term medical issues from a plague, well, that's just a cost we'll have to pay. i'm kind of furious every single time i go into a building and i see nobody wearing masks. it's the smallest fucking thing but this vast confluence of habit and pressure means that oh i guess even that was too much to ask.

like a little personal information, i guess: literally every single time i have gone outside in the past four years i have been wearing a mask. it's been annoying! i got pressure bruises on my nose several times! i'm really lucky i don't actually have some job that requires me to interact with people for 8 hours of the day, b/c then i'd have to have figured out something that doesn't wear away at the flesh of my nose longterm. wearing a mask kinda sucks, actually. it's still such a small fucking thing to do and it has such a well-documented impact on transmission rates

it's not like covid went away! covid is going to be around for the rest of human history! waves will come and waves will go, and it's still mutating furiously, & all we can really hope for at this point is that at some point, uh, probably in the next hundred years, it spreads to a form that doesn't give people organ damage. another huge scientific breakthrough that manages to kill off the common cold would be okay too, i guess.

just... seeing all of society go laser-focused on pretending things are fine and nobody needs to go out of their way to mitigate risk or accomodate other people just seems deeply and utterly grotesque. a profound and utter abandonment of any sense of morals or ethics, just to keep things Normal.

so yeah covid on the whole has made me a much more unhappy person. i go through this whole train of thought basically every single time i step outside, which is probably unhealthy. but that's how it is

[2aish-iteru3]

The World As We Know It (Katsuki Bakugo x Reader) Apocalypse AU

Also posted on Wattpad, under Aish_Iteru !

Part 1

(Y/n’s) POV

"Are you fucking kidding me"I sighed as I looked at the empty snare trap. Usually this wouldn't piss me off since that basically means there wasn't much animals around, but today ticked me off more. The trap was set off, and it was clear that someone or something had stolen what was captured in it. The branches of the trap itself were torn in half, and the leaves around were messed around with indicating that whoever took it, did it in a haste.

"I swear to god, if I find this mother fucker they're dead"I got up from the kneeling position that I was in and began looking for any signs of tracking down this bitch.

There were no signs of blood or flesh that the undead usually left behind so I scratched the idea that those bone headed zombies took my dinner. That meant another human took it. Which honestly, angered me more.

It has been 215 days since the apocalypse started, and I could still remember the events that lead up to it. Needless to say, it was fucked up; but thats a story for another time.

After a few more minutes of tracking down this idiot who decided to mess with me today. I gave up and began trekking back to the house I was currently camped at. It was about time anyway since the sun had started to begin setting.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you"I say with gritted teeth. Talking to myself became a habit of mine. No I wasn't crazy, well maybe a little, but hey you need to be a little crazy in order to survive this hell hole we now call the world.

The walk was silent, the only sound you could hear was the crunch of the leaves under my black military boots. Eventually I made it to the edge of the forest, I could see the little town I had settled in. There wasn't much to it the main road had a pharmacy, a picked out grocery store, a police station, gas station and a few neighbourhoods surrounding the main street. There were a few apartments buildings around as well, but I have yet to explore them since those stops are usually hot with the undead.

I quickened up my pace eventually turning into a light jog. I still had a few cans of food so at least I wasn't going to go hungry that night, but still meat would have been nice, gotta keep that protein up.

My jog had gotten me to the house I was staying at and after flawlessly hopping over the low fence, I made my way to the side of the house. There a trash can was set up underneath the main floor window. I climbed up the trash can, and proceeded to climb through the side window of the house. I usually never use the main doors of houses I would stay it. The front and back doors were nailed shut, and the only way to get in was the side window. Those undead freaks couldn't figure that out, so for the most part the house was safe, well as safe as it could be.

I took a few steps from the kitchen, and into the living room. There I had all my shit laid out. The coffee table in the middle of the room had majority of the food supplies I scavenged(canned food, a few granola bars, and a bag of chips that I was definitely going to muck up later on), along with some extra weapons I found. A hunting knife and a pistol with a silencer attachment(found this at the police station, scoree). I shook off the crossbow that I had slung over my shoulder, carefully placing it on the coffee table, my other hunting knife stayed in its sheath; attached to my belt on my left hip. Gotta stay on guard at all time I say.

"God I'm tired"I crashed onto the couch that welcomed my presence. At this point the sun had fully set, and it was pitch black in the room. The only person around was me and my thoughts. It was better this way though, getting too close to people in this world would just cause more problems. Part of me was thankful of my lack of cooperativeness, it taught me how to survive by myself. Can you imagine living in this condition and having the back bone of a chocolate eclair? Yea I think not.

My stomach grumbled, it had been a few hours since I last ate, but my body, and sleep had another idea. I settled in the couch, getting into a more comfy position, my eyes slowly closing shut.

Unfortunately, my sleep was cut off when I heard two male voices cutting into the eerie silence.

"Get in here dunce face, or else I'm leaving you"

"You're so mean Kaachan"I shot up from the couch, my senses firing off alarms in my head.  As quickly, and quietly as possible, I grabbed my pistol, and my crossbow before hiding in the shadows. The boarded up windows and doors completely blocked any sources of light coming into the room, making it easy to maneuver around the shadows. I could hear the second guy shuffling through the window before hearing a loud thud on the floor.

"You idiot! You're making so much noise!I'm not helping you up"

"Your shouting is making more noise, and again, you're so mean Kaachan"I hear the second guy whine.

"Shut up"The other guy says in a lower (still aggressive) more quiet tone.

I take this opportunity to press my back against the wall beside the opening from the kitchen to the living room. Once one of them walks through the door way, I can take one down; and then shoot the other. I held my breath as I hear them maneuvering around the kitchen to find anything.

'Sorry boys, I was here first'I smirked.

"Fuck, this is pissing me off!"One of the guys whisper yells.

"We can't go back empty handed. Izuku told me rations are so low this week, we might not make it"

"Yea I know, thats why this is PISSING ME OFF"Again with the whisper shouting. It's actually kind of funny. Hold on. Did they just say...Izuku?

"Go check out the living room Kaachan, maybe there is something there"

"Like what?Family photos?Don't be such an idiot!"

"Oh my god, fine I'll go check i-"In a split second. When he came into view, I kicked the back of the guys shin resulting in him crashing onto his knees(he let out a little "ow").Before he fully hits the ground, I roughly looped my arm around his neck and with all my strength turned him around to face his little friend. My knife flushed against the exposed part of his neck that wasn't covered by my arm.

"Make a move and I'll fucking kill you”

[unproduciblesmackdown]

oh, Mordecai having some romantic feeling about Atlas is so delicious. Adds inherent internal conflict -- Mordecai's dad is dead, Atlas may have thought of himself as stepping into a pseudo parental role (even if it was only as a manipulation tactic). Mitzi helping Mordecai with new clothing is an almost familial act, but also he's competing with her for atlas's attention (which is romantic attention for mitzi)! Very fucked up, I love it. thinking about it feels like getting tazed.

right! all about the Drama and that [lol that would be very fucked up. i love it] element

like we Could just suppose mordecai peaced (violenced) out of lackadaisy based just on the Business considerations of marigold now being the sole large & relatively stable operation around, and that he's now moved to dig into things only because he's worried about, what, arrest for murder (which would have Been a concern re: "murder is a not insubstantial part of your job" the whole time, but)....but it's more Enriching if he gets personal character motivations that aren't solely practical concerns, so you gotta imagine that's how it really is

and like what's (so likely i just assume it's true, and) important is just that mordecai has some kind of very motivating emotional attachment to atlas out here, and given that he's not forthcoming about that and atlas is (a) dead and (b) also not forthcoming in his fleeting, mysterious appearances, any details have to be speculation, but aren't Needed to suppose that that emotional significance is there....i assume the most common theory re: wondering what atlas meant to mordecai is that mordecai was like "that's my dad" and ofc with the lack of specific info we can't say that's Not the case lol. it would also be hilarious anytime there's like unilateral [that's my dad] that is never acknowledged / taken on by that would-be dad lmfao....and ofc it's possible that atlas is the one with the unilateral [that's my son] especially by virtue of assuming the figurative role of Patriarch as less mere "is this my begotten son" and more "i'm a Man who is In Charge of this group of people. meanwhile mitzi and mordecai truly can get in on some "familial" dynamic like particularly on the basis of "people who are stuck together (in this house, in this job, in this group you're supposed to belong to all your life)" and their being Rivals re: atlas in one way or another making them like frenemies out here is great, and that now they are plausibly frenemies who are also the only people who can understand each other's depression is even better lmfao. still thinking it was mitzi (wife) asa (friend) and mordecai (???) at atlas's funeral for sure

meanwhile it's really not difficult to imagine that mordecai could feel some type of way about atlas when it's like, people are gay, it also Is difficult to imagine a More emotionally impactful introduction to someone / establishment of their role in your life than "thinking your own murder is imminent and even that atlas was someone about to kill you Now but then it turns out that this guy absolutely out of nowhere basically saves your life even though he just spared you a revolver"....i do generally assume that atlas related to most everyone around him in that opportunistic way, that, like in taking on viktor, atlas sees someone backed against a wall here, and if they can shoot their way out of it then he has this potential hire who now owes him their life and has that ability to fight their way out of a situation in which others are trying to kill them and still doesn't have any other options, and, like pretty much everyone, continues to have few options as they get involved in the organized bootlegging world, the other paths are closed to you....but, of course, mordecai may not have ever been confronted with that hypothetical reality of how atlas related to Him, and not really have pushed to make his Own hypothetical feelings about atlas manifest as more than like, being that ferocious little shadow, nbd just an important, fave employee, and of course there's atlas being married not long after....not some amazing situation, but regardless of any further specifics, we can presume that it's as big a deal as anything to mordecai that Someone is on his side at all and helping him out, even just on the level of like, on his side of "not dying" and helping him with "not dying," and he's taking what he can get out here, aren't they all

and just some more "wow. wild" visuals like, such as The Following peak dramatic introduction and how it's like okay you could at least imagine it Could be the kind of thing mordecai feels differently about than like [literally dadcore] lol

meanwhile always going "wow....wild" about this bit

just before he's also like "i'll kill you" at the suggestion that he was Romantically Involved with mitzi lmao....i do not imagine that mordecai was ever living with atlas but it's like, how much bodyguarding was done, to what extents. certainly could imagine him getting close enough to escort people to their homes, doors of apartments or hotel rooms, could imagine sometimes staying in those places too....real "why are you, as a man, aware of another man's living situation and the status of his marriage's deterioration" moments lmao. even when it's like, well yeah he's quite literally Close to atlas whenever being like a personal guard type situation, and presumably being privy to a lot re: business, and even some of the personal. and it's also a question of, supposing atlas did have a part in his own death, What atlas's motivations would be....evidently it wasn't great for lackadaisy that he died, or for mitzi, and what benefits could atlas reap directly by his dying when yknow then that'd mean that he was dead....gotta suppose if he Did go "look, most trusted employee who's already privy to a lot and maybe i also trust b/c i know you Care A Lot: you gotta kill me" it's more likely that he Was motivated more sentimentally than like ruthless business boy style out here. maybe mitzi wasn't living with him after some opportunity she pursued too far evidently fucked some things up, but atlas would still be like "well the things are already fucked up, and also i'll die to get mitzi out of some impending further consequences of it" maybe. maybe it was that atlas was just Sure he'd be killed, and so he had mordecai be the one to do it rather than live in suspense and not get to pick the time and place and be killed right off rather than hoping that enemies lurking around every corner both can & will make it a quicker less painful death

and it's like, hand to forehead, oh lord The Drama to suppose atlas told mordecai "okay. you gotta kill me :/" and mordecai is kind of in love with him or something and yet still has to go "okay :/" and then do it and then he and atlas's now-widow, who he kind of hates and is now the one other person who knows what went down and who he'll attend the funeral with, can be [hand to forehead] about it together....not like there's no drama in mordecai going "i have the worst luck re: my dads dying, ugh" in this scenario either lmao but it Could instead be like This and it Would be all the more agonizing. gotta kill this guy you love who you knew was never exactly gonna return that even beyond "i mean, to what extent did he Love his actual wife, even if it's a [nonzero] answer" and who would entrust you with this task b/c he not only knows you Could do it but that you Would....which also leads me to the postscript of this theory, that atlas also could've just leveraged that "however anyone felt about it presumably mordecai was Technically only ever Officially: atlas's employee of the month" and also basically made it a Professional Order to be the one to kill him. sure thinking about how mordecai repeatedly, including in his introduction, goes "it's really important for me to have a consistent and rigorous approach to Doing My Job that isn't based on going 'yahoo wippee i'm having so much fun' b/c I'm Really Not, i do not like any of this" like hmmm! might be the kind of important, emphasized perspective of a character who was like "yeah i had to kill my boss who i loved and i deal with that by being all-in on 'i don't do this because i enjoy it'" while others are like wow mordecai why don't you Seem to enjoy this either way more or way less? what a weirdo. and he's like, literally i just work here. anyways imagining the like "mitzi and mordecai hanging out in silent crisis together in the Depression Café immediately after mordecai killed atlas b/c atlas arranged that and both of them were aware of this and mitzi was married to him and mordecai was his right hand man and now their frenemies forever competitive status is that classic 'we might never even talk now but we'll just share a lifelong secret maybe, you know how it is' and in this scenario i also do imagine mitzi would be aware how mordecai felt, gayly. a ton of fun"

[themonotonysyndrome]

Hi Lady 🫶🏻

We all know how Nobels like to gossip and spread rumors.(mostly at bars where lilia works at like she said in part 2) What if someone started a rumor that Castin abuses celica in private and acts like he loves her in public? How would Lilia react?would she tell reyes? How would Reyes react? Would Reyes tell the queen and the queen would tell Rhett ? How would they all react? Aaaaand would they believe it ???

Hello, Anon!

Gossips... oooh~ Juicy! I like to headcanon that apart from learning basic mathematics, children from noble households were taught how to spread, manage and dig into rumours. Rumours are kinda like... their playdough dsnjkfsndf. While they don't have to be an expert gossipmonger, they should at least know how to protect themselves against malicious rumours and allegations.

Celica's curious nature actually teaches her how to unravel truths from lies. Also, she enjoys playing amateur investigator, lol.

So the moment there are rumours about how Castin is secretly abusive, Celica is having an affair and generally others taking shots at their arranged marriage, well, the Imperial Baroness is excited at uncovering this new mystery and perpetrators.

Castin is ready to put out a statement with King Rhett's backing that he's an honourable man and genuinely adores his wife, but Celica immediately shuts it down. If he does that with Rhett, the populace will think that his words are propaganda. So they gotta play it smart, and they gotta play it cruel.

(Castin doesn't know about that last bit, though, so shush!)

So, the first thing Celica will do is contact the people she planted in Intacia's criminal world and trade words with the local merchant guild. Rumours only spread quickly when a high-ranking figurehead has lots of ears and mouths around them. Her suspicion is proven correct by Tristan's man in the merchant guild - someone with high status in Intacia had been vocal about their couple's marriage but he wasn't outwardly so. Just in the privacy of his home which, just so happens, has a lot of servants. Now, high-ranking military officials don't normally employ more than 5 servants to help run their house -

(Except Castin, but that's because he now has an Imperial Baroness for a wife. Different customs, ya know?)

So it must be a fellow discontent noble from Intacia. A local guy who doesn't like changes in the status quo.

Digging into his identity and details came easy after that. He's a member of Rhett's court, one of the few who kept his mouth shut during his coronation and has a business that involves armoury. No wonder he's upset with the idea of peace and what the couple meant to represent!

The next step is... PUBLIC HUMILIATION! Celica would figure out something to humiliate the Lord in Parliament in front of Rhett, his fellow noblemen and warriors. So much so that he won't ever show his face in high society again.

Fair's fair!

[argentnoelle]

Kira is Light Yagami’s Excuse

(read on ao3) The central interpretation that Death Note puts forth is that Light was just a teenager, an accomplished student who had everything going for him. He couldn’t handle having screwed up massively by accidentally murdering two guys, and ended up being non-magically corrupted by the power to kill. “Kira” is the name given to Light’s acts of murder by the general public. After quickly taking this in stride, thinking of Kira and Light as different entities explicitly allows Light to disassociate himself from situations that make him uncomfortable, as well as hype himself up with ideas about how grand his story is. You can see this actually happening in the early parts of the manga quite a bit.

During the Lind L. Tailor broadcast in chapter 2, L says to Light, “what you are doing... is evil!!” to which Light responds by completely flying off the handle. “Me... evil? I am righteous! I’m the hero who’s liberating people from fear. I’m the savior who’s going to be like a god of this perfect new world! Those who try to fight me... they’re the evil ones!!” and he unwisely writes down Lind L Tailor’s name and then gloats about it. “Now we’ll see what happens to those who offend Lord Kira.” By chapter 3, you have Light’s listless reaction to the epic fight between L and Kira that’s now in all the papers; he describes it to Ryuk as “take one step out of the house, all you hear about is L and Kira. You can’t avoid it, even if you want to... I guess it might be pretty interesting if I wasn’t Kira.” But after describing the stories that are in the papers, the radio, and TV, his dialogue changes to “if Kira pays too much attention to this stuff, it just stresses him out. Gotta give his mind a rest, once in a while.” When Light gets too close to the truth (being suddenly some kind of supervillain celebrity in a fight to the death with some shadowy entity “L” who has already figured out basically where he lives is stressing him out) he has to step back by not only framing his stress as a hypothetical, and his listlessness as logical, but also by putting the whole situation off onto “Kira” who has now in the space of a paragraph become “him” instead of “I.”

In chapter 3 you get another fascinating moment. When Light goes to the abandon building to practice his pyrotechnics, he talks to Ryuk about the danger he’s realized that the Death Note poses to him. “Until now,” he explains, “I was thinking if anyone in my family saw [the Death Note] I could explain it by saying I’ve been keeping notes on the Kira case, to practice becoming a detective...” but now that he knows that anyone who touches the notebook can see Ryuk it’s an entirely different matter. “Even without this headache, I’m walking on a tightrope here,” Light admits. “If I blow it... Kira... will have to kill his own family.” As he finishes his little speech the panel zooms out to see that Light is holding onto the Death Note with a sickly, uncomfortable look on his face, almost curled in on himself. He’s visibly sweating—not just one sweat drop to indicate discomfort but “shaking and sweating” levels of this is probably meant to be taken literally. Ryuk’s figure in the background looms over him, but Light feels trapped in this moment, stuck in his own head. It’s such a fascinating image, compositionally and in what it says about Light’s mental space. And it’s in the dialogue too. Once again, Light has used this conversational technique to try to distance himself from something unimaginably horrible to him. “If I blow it...” he starts, but he can’t finish it by saying, “I will have to kill my own family.” He can’t say that. He can’t even think it. No, “Kira” will have to do that. Kira will kill Kira’s family. But only if Light blows it. So Light has to be very, very careful. It casts Kira as an inevitability. Something that will just happen if Light fails. Light has no power over “Kira’s” actions. He washes his hands of the matter. In fact, he washes his hands so spectacularly that in the beginning of chapter 4, where the scene continues, he’s able to make a joke about Sayu having a heart attack just from seeing Ryuk’s face. The emotional minefield has been successfully sidestepped. “Kira” has the responsibility for all of Light’s unforgivable actions, “Light” can remain himself.

By chapter 22, when Soichiro affirms that L—who has found and accused Light of being Kira and is at this very moment sitting right next to him—is indeed L, Light has an internal panic which ends with him having to remind himself, “right now I’m Light Yagami, concerned about my father...” By this point in the manga, Light has gotten himself so deep into acting as Kira, and so many of his daily decisions are caused by whether it would make him look suspicious or not, that it’s his identity as “Light” that he has to consciously reaffirm.

The dichotomy between what Light’s two personas allow is perhaps never so well articulated than in the moment in chapter 32 where Light tells Ryuk, “Ryuga is Light Yagami’s friend. But L is Kira’s enemy.” Despite getting along well with Ryuga on a personal level and playing into the idea of them being friends in his ordinary life, Light is fully aware that L is and always has been trying to kill him, and their contrasting personas of “L” and “Kira” cannot both survive—it’s only a question of who will kill the other one first.

So if Kira is an excuse, then why does the Light we see in the first half of the manga, and the Light we see in the Yotsuba arc, feel so diametrically different? There’s a number of reasons. One is that, in the first arc, we’re given privileged access to inside Light’s head. We see his internal monologue, his plans, his occasional moments of weakness and doubt, his moments of triumph and despair—we’re like Ryuk, able to be up close and personal on the villain protagonist. Then, Yotsuba arc rolls around. What we see now is Light’s public face, and a lot of stuff about Yotsuba. Light doesn’t appear as much in this section—and when he does, we see much less of him. While we’re still occasionally given access to his inner monologue, much of what we see is him in silence and what he chooses to speak out loud to his father and coworkers and L. He’s also not the protagonist of this section. Yotsuba!Light doesn’t drive the story. He reacts to it. Even Misa has more moments of agency in this section than Light does. It makes for a profoundly different reading experience, and so the emotional image painted for the reader in the section is also going to be different. Light won’t feel like the same character not because he changed so fundamentally, but because we, the readers, changed position; and because Light is also in a different position. We’re seeing him from the outside, from a remove, in a situation where all Light can do is wonder about a truth we’re already aware of. For argument’s sake, imagine if the Yotsuba section had also been told with Light as the protagonist: we would have seen moments of him alone, moments where we learn about his reactions to being chained to L; we’d hear about his plans. Maybe L would interrogate him in private, and Light, who thinks he’s so innocent but who knows how bad the evidence looked, would have to react to this. There are ways to write Yotsuba arc where Light is still the main character, but that’s not how the story is being told. The plot of Death Note is about Kira (who happens to be Light Yagami). It has no interest in Light without the Death Note. Light without the Death Note is a plot device created by his previous self.

What we do see, in small glimpses (and it usually is “see”—the art shows more of Light’s interiority here than the writing does) is that Light is not as comfortable and confident and unruffled as he wants to project. In the background of panels, you see him react in all sorts of interesting ways. He also punches L in the face and has one of his most interesting speeches of the entire arc, which is enough to build an interpretation off of: “Don’t be ridiculous! Just because I’m not the true Kira... just because you were wrong, you want to give up?! You gonna sulk like a baby?!” He’s so mad at L.

L tries to explain that he just means that chasing after Kira doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere in the investigation so it might not be the most logical course of action, but Light can’t hear that. He’s still stuck in his emotional reaction. “Who’s the one who swore to send Kira to his execution?” he presses. Then he’s leaning forward, grabbing L by the shirt, like he’s going to shake him. “The police, the FBI agents, TV announcers, how many innocent people have been victimized?! You���re the one who put Misa and me in confinement!!” That’s the crux of the matter. Earlier, Light had said that Kira killing people was bad enough but he’d never forgive him for what he’d done to Light and Soichiro. Now you see what Light will never forgive L for. Getting locked up for fifty-three days.

There’s something really fascinating about this. The Light we saw in part 1 was a Light who was slowly being backed into an inescapable corner, but who had the hope that he would somehow win. The Light we see in the Yotsuba arc is one who still has the hope that he’ll somehow win, but he’s already suffered a defeat that the Light in part 1 could never even conceptualize. He’s been tortured. And he’s still technically a prisoner. Casuistor wrote the most amazing meta ever about Yotsuba!Light and his motivations, Hellscape. It’s the most in-depth I’ve ever seen someone discuss that version of him. As Casuistor says:

So to summarize in brief before moving onto an analysis of Light’s development during the Yotsuba arc itself, we have at this point a Light Yagami who feels as though he has he has endured a terrible injustice. He has spent the past couple of months accused of heinous crimes ranging from the deaths of thousands of criminals to potentially patricide. His integrity has been repeatedly attacked and slandered, and any defense of his own character that he has to offer is routinely disregarded. Light is his only advocate and naturally he feels quite seriously persecuted. [...] In fact, in direct reaction to bearing the weight of these accusations, Light becomes determined to prove he is not the monster people accuse him of being, and his actions during the Yotsuba arc very much reflects this desire to prove that he is a virtuous, moral and overall upstanding human being. What’s interesting is that this desire to prove himself is not just external. He wants to prove it to himself as well. This is not a driving motivation that Pre-Kira Light ever feels the need to act on; he knows and everyone else around him believes he’s a good person. Pre-Kira has nothing to prove; Yotsuba-Light has everything to prove. In fact, if Yotsuba-Light actually has more in common with Kira-Light than he does with Pre-Kira Light.  

What Casuistor goes through beat-by-beat is how everything Light does in the Yotsuba arc is to shore up a certain image of himself and protect the idea of him as innocent, and to make sure that L can’t find anything else to pin on him. Anyway, there’s far too many good points in that analysis to go into, but...

The handcuffs themselves are interesting to talk about because they have different meanings to the people they connect. On the surface, it’s meant to represent the promise to catch Kira together. Not in the roles of investigator and chief suspect as was the case previously, but as equals. Two brilliant minds dedicated to the same purpose of putting an end to Kira.

But the grin reality of the situation is that even though Light’s own wishes are to stay and work on the case, Light has no choice but to stay because he is literally handcuffed to a person who will not release him.

But what’s interesting about this is that as shown in that panel above, Light chooses to speak of being chained and having his freedom restricted in sugar-coated euphemistic language. With a new solid lead on the Kira case, Light believes there will be a day when he can make L see that the handcuffs won’t be necessary. In a sense, the handcuffs represent Light’s promise to himself – they are something he can be positively motivated by. This is Light’s personal promise to be proven innocent instead of a sign of his continued imprisonment.

To an extent, this trick of shifting the framing and context makes it possible for Light to achieve a truce with L.

I would add only one thing to that really great discussion. Casuistor has a fairly non-romantic (in all senses of the word) take on L & Light’s relationship. And I think it’s a pretty legit take with a good basis in canon. Light & L really have no particular reason to be friends or to like each other and plenty of reasons to hate each other, be irritated, and get on each other’s nerves. But I take a slightly different interpretation in that think that Yotsuba!Light, despite all his barely-hidden resentment towards L, completely believed that he enjoyed L’s company. I don’t think those things are incompatible for Light to feel, and in fact I think Light has a very pressing psychological reason to convince himself that he enjoys L as a person. Because he can’t leave, and if he admitted that to himself all the time he’d be confronted day in and day out with the idea that he’s nothing but a victim. From the beginning of canon, we see Light reject any interpretation that hinges on such a thing. Anybody might say that Light finding a random notebook and then seeing that actually, he killed people by accident and now a god of death is going to follow him around until he stops being interesting at which point that god of death will kill him is enough to consider Light a victim. Not Light, though. Light is obviously a god. Light is obviously chosen for higher things. Light is obviously just doing all this because he wants to.

The relationship between Light & Ryuk and Light & L is really rather similar in some ways.

So that’s where my interpretation splits from Hellscape, (which anyone who is interested in Yotsuba!Light or what exactly the whole amnesia thing was should read, it is so awesome). Yotsuba!Light is L’s friend and he is perfectly a-okay with being handcuffed to him, even if he actually isn’t.

And then there’s also Light’s relationship with his father, which is a whole other amazing and interesting part of canon. Touched on both by that meta, and also by13Beyond13, who discussed the difference in Light’s motivations and in who he’s using as a role model in the different parts of the story (L vs Soichiro). It’s really interesting.

And then he gets his memory back. And he screams.

Back in chapter 22, L asks Light what his image of Kira is, and you get probably the most self-aware explanation Light ever gives of himself and his actions until the “Kira knows he’s evil” speech after his father’s death. Light says:

“I think Kira is... an affluent child. If, as assumed, he can kill just by willing it... if a human being had that kind of power—using it to get rid of criminals, and at the same time making it an example to others to make the world a better place, is something only a child would think of doing. I’d say he’s anywhere from a fifth-grader to a high-school student... if it was anyone younger than that, they’d either be too scared by the power to use it, or they’d use it to kill people they knew, people they didn’t like... and it if was anyone older than that, an adult, they’d only use it for their own personal gain. You could think of tons of ways to use that power and become really rich. Kira still has some purity about him. He’s an affluent child, who already has everything he needs. I’d say he’s probably a junior-high student who has his own cell phone, computer, and TV.”

With the distance that creating a criminal profile of Kira offers, Light is able to admit why he did what he did and even give a nod to how his social status influenced how he went about using the death note. The most crucial moment in this profile is the line “Kira still has some purity about him.” L picks up on this as an oddity—the only place Light’s profile doesn’t match up with L’s own profile of Kira. In context, this line of Light’s refers to his position at the cusp between childhood and adulthood, but also foreshadows the inevitability that eventually, Kira will not “still have some purity about him.” By the time chapter 75 comes around, immediately after his father’s death, Light’s description of Kira has changed to the extraordinarily depressing, “Kira is a mass murderer... evil. That’s true. But there are may people who support Kira... that’s also true. I think Kira understands this. That what he does is evil. But Kira will sacrifice even himself to change the world for the better... that is the true justice Kira has chosen... that is probably what Kira is thinking...”

Soichiro, perhaps the moral heart of the story, sums it up in chapter 22, after Light has already spoken: “Kira is evil... there’s no denying that... but lately I’ve been starting to think of it more like this... the real evil is the power to kill people. Someone who finds himself with that power is cursed. No matter how you use it, anything obtained by killing people can never bring true happiness.”

And that plays out over the course of the story until Light’s eventually unhappy death.

Plenty of people have talked about Light’s whole breakdown starting with “that’s right. I am Kira.” But what I think is interesting is how it happens right after he’s been literally backed into a corner. Everyone knows he’s Kira. He can no longer sustain both “Light Yagami” and “Kira” and “Light Yagami” is the one who’s been struck down completely and resoundingly. Despite everything Light’s been doing for years to keep both these things in balance, to “walk the tightrope” he ends up being pushed off and it’s Kira’s side he lands on. He has to. Everyone knows, now, that Light is a murderer and that he’s Kira. He has no excuse for his actions unless he believes them wholeheartedly. If he’s Kira, then he doesn’t have to be hurt by this, although he still is. He basically pleads for everyone in Light Yagami’s life to understand him. Why should he care about that? It’s not just because he doesn’t want to die. There’s more to it. He needs the validation of feeling like he’s not evil. If the people who know him personally can say, you know what Light, you’re right. I get why you did it. Then it would all make sense. He would have given up “Light Yagami” and everything that belonged to him—his future, his family, his morals—for a higher purpose. Near cuts that down pretty quick with his “you’re just a crazy mass murderer,” and then adds insult to injury by asking what everyone else in the room thinks.

And no one comes to Light’s defense. Not a single person. You see a number of panels that starts with an almost vulnerable shot of Light looking down, seeming almost like he feels bad. The moment stretches, there are close-ups on his eye glancing over at everyone, and everyone, one by one, condemns him with silence. After these rows of panels, Light’s eye, crueler than ever, tilts up to look toward the heavens—he can’t gain validation from anyone on earth. He’s going to have to get it from himself. He’s going to have to convince himself that everyone else is “a bunch of hopeless fools...” and it’s only then that he glances down at his watch and decides to completely lose it for the mere chance of killing Near.

(on ao3)

[an-ecu-harrypotter-au]

TPS Part 13: Bienvenue Kwimpers

"Ah got mah letter from Pop. Do we gotta bring anythang?"

"We're only going to be in France for a week, so I would bring about a week's worth of clothes and a toothbrush. My father would take care of paying for everything."

"So no passport?"

"No. Wizards don't have anything like that for international travel. The Ministry of Magic only requires identification for people who work at that building. My father has a specific card saying he's an ambassador merely for formality reasons. He's one of the most well known wizards in the UK."

Ah process it when Ah realize somethin.

"How come we got Christmas an Easter off but we don't got any type a church here?"

"It's quite simple really. Wizards simply don't celebrate those holidays for the same reason. For us it's meant to be a celebration of the changing of the seasons. It's only because my mother is Bulgarian that my family even knows who Jesus is."

"Huh?"

"In Bulgaria, people are more religious. Even though Veela are not human, they still have to learn the basics of Christianity. That way they can blend in with humans."

Somethin jus ain't makin sense ta me.

"Ah thought ya said it'd be dangerous fer Veela ta be round humans?"

"Yes but there are always half blooded and human born wizards out there. It's meant to avoid common cultural differences even though it's the same country."

Ah shake mah head an go back ta mah Herbology book.

"What'd ya think our Herbology final's gonna be like? If we gotta match plant names ta pictures Ah can do that real easy."

"It's possible. I think we might need to perform the Severing Charm on a Spiky Bush."

"Oh yeah that'd make sense. Herbology's also bout carin fer these plants. We gotta use it ta trim the bush so it don't kill nobody wit its spikes."

Ah make sure ta write it down so Ah don't ferget ta practice that spell.

Time Skip

"Pop are ya sure Trevor's gonna be ok without me? Maybe he'd like goin ta France too."

"Trevor's gonna be fine son. We dunno how we's even gettin ta France. Might not be good ta bring a frog wit us. France sees frogs as good eatin."

Ah gasp.

"Yer so smart Pop! They'd eat Trevor up real quick wit how he's hoppin round so much."

"He's much safer wit yer cousins this way."

We get our suitcases out the cab an make our way ta the train station. Ah see a real tall guy in a suit lookin round when he sees us. He comes up ta us an shakes Pop's hand.

"Ah, Mr. Kwimper. Glad you can make it. I'm Henry Gryffindor."

"Nice ta meet ya. Ya know mah son Toby right?"

"Yes of course. Jacklin did tell me all about you and your son. Now don't you worry about transportation. I have it all taken care of. I hope my appearance isn't too strange."

"Nah yer good. Look like a regular businessman from London."

"Splendid. It has after all been a while since I last had to walk amongst humans. My wife brought Jacklin to the station at the beginning of the year."

He keeps talkin ta Pop as he leads us away from the train station. Ah see some carriage but no horsies.

"Now Toby you have the cloak I allowed Jacklin to give you, yes?"

"Yessir. Do ya need it fer somethin?"

"Indeed. I need to wear it so I can manage the thestrals without being seen."

Ah don't even wanna ask wha he said so Ah jus give it ta him.

"Thank you. Now if you and your father can step inside the carriage, I'll have us to Gryffindor Manor in no time."

"Ok sir."

Ah get in wit Pop as Jacklin's daddy puts on the invisibility cloak.

Time Skip

"Toby I'm so glad you can make it!"

Jacklin hugs me before Ah can even put mah suitcase down. She probly don't get friends over which Ah think's pretty sad if she's so excited ta see me.

"Jacklin do ya know how yer daddy got invisible horsies fer his carriage?"

"Come again?"

"Ya know invisible horsies. He flew us by carriage but Ah saw he ain't got horsies pullin 'em."

She makes that face Ah'm used ta seein by now. It means she's gonna tell me somethin Ah know's gonna be way too hard ta figure out.

"We use magical creatures that are only visible under certain conditions. Humans can't see them at all."

"Ok."

Ah see this tall blonde woman walk in an Ah can tell jus by lookin at 'er she's Jacklin's mom.

"You must be, Toby. My name is Olga. Jacklin told you I am from Bulgaria."

"Yeah. She did."

Her Veela magic's way more stronger than Jacklin's. Ah hope Pop don't have no trouble wit 'er.

"Come. I made food before trip."

Ah follow 'er an Jacklin ta this huge dinin room. Pop's speechless an Ah'm hungry.

"This is not fancy meal. I hope you like moussaka vith some kyufte."

Ah look at the table an see somethin that looks like lasagna an meatballs. Pop dunno a thang bout Bulgarian food but he sure looks excited as he sits down.

"Sounds good ta me Mrs. Gryffindor."

Ah sit down between 'em an Jacklin. Ah look at mah plate an Ah gotta ask Jacklin wha all this is.

"What're we eatin?"

"Moussaka is a dish that's very popular in Greece and other countries. In Bulgaria, they use potatoes instead of eggplant. It's very similar to the shepherd's pie you tried last month."

"Ok. Wha' bout these meatball lookin thin's?"

She looks at mah plate.

"They technically are meatballs, Toby. The main difference is that in Bulgaria you would grill these like you would a hamburger. They also have onions and soaked bread in them."

Ah nod an take a bite a the mouska. Jacklin's right an wrong bout it. Sure it's got the potatoes an meat like a shepherd's pie but it's still all stacked like a lasgana'd be stacked.

"Are you liking moussaka?"

Ah like up an see Jacklin's mom lookin at me an Pop.

"Yeah."

"It's delicious, Mrs. Gryffindor. Specially this creamy stuff on top."

"I use yogurt for top layer."

Pop really loves it cause he's all smilin. Ah try one a the meatballs when she hands me this lil bowl a somethin.

"Put in podluchen. Is yogurt sauce."

"Ok."

Ah try it like she wants me ta. Ah'm realizin yogurt ain't jus meant ta Dannon. It can be used fer meaty thangs too.

"Tastes good thanks."

She smiles an Jacklin's dad calls 'er over an pulls out 'er chair so she can sit.

"Dear come over and sit down. You need to eat too before we leave for France."

"Thank you, lyubimi."

Ah jus assume it's some kinda Bulgarian petname an keep eatin mah food. The pot lucken sauce's startin ta grow on me. Ah like it.

Time Skip

"So uh... what exactly do ya do as an ambassador, Henry?"

Ah listen ta Pop talkin ta Jacklin's dad. Ah wonder if he really is some kinda wizard king.

"Why I represent the United Kingdom using the title my ancestor, Godric Gryffindor, created. It's a title that's existed longer than our Ministry of Magic. While I do work with them, I am not their boss nor employee. My position can never be taken away from me as it was made into a permanent law: All legal heirs of Godric Gryffindor shall have this ambassador's position. As the only founding family with a reliably traceable heir, my family is the only one to have such a position."

"Huh. Looks like mah son weren't exaggeratin when he said Jacklin was a wizard princess."

He chuckles a bit an Ah wonder why.

"I can definitely see why he would think of that. It is true that being a Gryffindor would be a similar experience to being part of a royal family. The only difference is that our word is not law. It never has been and it never will be. My family has strived to maintain international diplomacy and create a common ground. We do have our privileges I don't deny that, but we are by no means royalty."

Now Ah know where Jacklin gets her speech type a talkin from. Ah get he's tryna explain this big concept as much as he can but still. It's a lot ta think bout.

"So fer this trip ta France, why'd ya need me agin?"

"Ah yes. A squib is unable to see all countries Ministry of Magic buildings as well as any confidential building. As part of my annual trip to France, I was asked to be a part of their quality review inspection. I am to visit Paris to ensure France's security system against humans are up to international standards. It's not a common occurrence so I wouldn't need your help on a regular basis."

"Ah get it now. Yer auditin their internal controls."

Ah see Jacklin's dad's eyes light up like Pop understood wha he said. Pop's real smart like that. He ain't worked nowhere fancy but he jus has a good mind fer pickin things up.

"Now just to be sure, how exactly is Toby a pure blood? It's not that I doubt such a claim, I'm merely baffled at how the Kwimper clan disappeared from the magic world. Our archives show that the last Kwimper was recorded to the Ministry of Magic in 1910."

"Yeah Ah done a lil diggin mahself an found out it's cause we jus fled ta Ireland an not tol nobody. We did got a lotta squibs in the family but we also jus never went back ta Hogwarts. Our kin jus kept ta themselves till some a us went ta America. Mah wife, lord rest 'er soul tol me she can do magic. Ah tol 'er Ah know bout it, but can't do it. She tol me since Ah'm a Kwimper Ah oughta write ta the people in Britain an tell 'em bout Toby. Weren't till Ah got his letter Ah found out she was right bout 'em bein a wizard."

"I see, but how do you know with absolute certainty that your son is a pure blood? A long line of squibs would surely intermingle with a human even by accident."

Ah look at Pop an Ah wonder how he's got an answer fer it.

"Jus happened ta work out that way. Kwimper clan still liked keepin thangs ta themselves. Much rather'd use magic ta be farmers an fortune tellers. Now mah wife, her family done thangs different. Simply wouldn't let me live it down if Toby had magic an he ain't been taught right."

"Tell me Samson, was your late wife Native American by any chance?"

"Yeah mah wife was part a the Cherokee tribe that kept ta themselves up in the mountains. Even got Toby papers sayin he's part a the tribe too."

"My goodness! No wonder Toby is a wizard."

Ah look at Jacklin.

"Ah have no idea wha's happenin."

"Native Americans have the highest percentage of wizards out of any other race. It's almost impossible for someone to be an official member of a tribe and not be one. The Kwimper clan has a properly educated wizard after all these centuries because of your mother, Toby."

Ah dunno wha ta say. Ah almos wanna cry but Jacklin's mom comes out wit desserts.

"Baklava?"

"Yeah thanks."

Ah take a couple pieces an start stuffin mah face. Ah can't even remember if Jacklin tol me wha Ah'm eatin or not Ah jus gotta eat it. All jus too much ta handle.

"Son ya bes slow down wit yer eatin. Gonna be all sick iffin ya don't. Now Ah know this baklava's jus bout as good as it gets but ya gotta least save some fer me."

He pats mah back an Ah think Pop's tryna make a joke ta take mah mind off wantin ta cry. Ah think it worked cause now Ah wanna know wha makes it so special.

"Dear, why don't you tell our guests about your baklava recipe."

"Yes. In Bulgaria ve use volnuts and sugar syrup to make baklava. You like?"

"Oh yeah Olga. Goes real good wit this Boza."

Jacklin's mom smiles an that shows Pop's real smart at talkin ta people. Always seems ta know wha ta say ta make people feel good.

Time Skip

"Alright, everyone. Now that we all finished eating, I'll show you how we can all get to Paris. Follow me."

Ah get up an follow Jacklin's dad ta a fireplace.

"This fireplace is specifically designed to take me to any Ministry of Magic building in the world. Using Floo powder, I simply have to say Paris, France. Once I throw it into the fire, it would take me right to Paris practically in a blink of an eye. So long as you speak clearly and stand very still, you can't go wrong."

"Wow."

"Jacklin I trust you to take Toby and mummy on your own. Come with me Samson. I'll take you and your family's luggage straight away."

Ah watch Jacklin's dad take the powder an step inta the fireplace wit Pop. Pop's holdin our suitcases an looks a lil nervous at the fire.

"Paris, France."

Jacklin's dad throws it inta the fire an they jus disappear in a flash. Jacklin waits a couple seconds before she grabs the powder. Her mom steps in the fire.

"Alright, Toby. Just step into the fire and I'll send us all to Paris."

"Ok."

Ah step in the fire next ta 'er. Fire don't hurt so Ah feel good bout that. Ah grab onta Jacklin so Ah don't move.

"Paris, France."

Everythang jus goes black.

"Son? Son? Wake up son."

Ah think Ah fainted fer a second cause Ah wake up on the floor.

"Wha happened?"

"Oh dear. This is entirely my fault. I should have warned you that it's important to keep breathing. If you suddenly inhale, you could faint."

Ah look up at Jacklin's dad an he looks real concerned.

"Ah'm awright sir. Ah get real bad motion sickness. Ah sometimes get sick jus flyin on a broom."

"Are well enough to stand?"

"Yessir."

"That's good to hear."

He helps me up. Ah look round room.

"Welcome to Paris, my friends. This is the French Ministry of Magic headquarters. Now I just have to meet with the minister before we can be on our way."

Ah see a kinda short man come in the room an looks right at Jacklin's dad.

"Monsieur Greefindor!"

"Ah Emile. Just in time. I'd like to introduce you to the Kwimpers. They're the family that's going to be helping me with the review process."

"Zat is good news."

He shakes Pop's hand then mine.

"I will be taking you to your 'otel room. You are guests and will be treated well. Come with me."

"Very well then. Olga, Jacklin, back to the fireplace. Samson, I'll be seeing you and Toby at the hotel when you arrive."

Ah watch Jacklin's dad grab the Floo powder.

"Hotel De Ginestou."

He throws it in the fire an they all disappear.

"Pop Ah'm glad Ah don't gotta use the fire agin."

"It's awright son. We might be usin a carriage ta get ta the hotel. Jus hand the nice man yer suitcase an we'll get goin."

Ah see a french man come up an Ah give 'em mah suitcase an another guy takes Pop's.

"Now come with me to the carriage. We will take you to the Hotel De Ginestou."

"Lead the way Emile."

We follow 'em downstairs ta the carriage an mah eyes get all big.

"Pop they got horsies! Can ya see 'em? They got these big wings an long blonde manes! They gotta be all girls."

"Yeah Ah see 'em son. French government's real trustin. Probly got spells keepin humans outta this part a the city. Horses probly hide their wings so we look like a regular carriage."

We get in the carriage an Ah realize somethin.

"How come wizards ain't got cars? Everythang looks like we're in the 1800s when people still used candles."

"Cause wizards don't want nothin ta do wit humans. They gotta hide from 'em so they ain't gonna be as up ta date wit technology. Ya tol me Jacklin's camera don't wanna work at Hogwarts cause all the magicin messes wit it. Probably the same thang fer cars an all kinds a fancy equipment."

"Does that mean Jacklin ain't gonna be able ta use 'er camera here?"

He pats mah shoulder while lookin straight. That tells me Pop's thinkin up somethin real smart.

"French government probly don't want humans takin pictures a their fancy wizardin buildins so 'er camera probly won't work. Gonna have ta get a regular camera fer that."

"Jacklin probly won't like that. She really wanted ta learn how ta use it right."

"Oh Ah'm sure it'll work wit all the human places like the Eiffel Tower. Can't have humans not bein able ta take pictures a thangs. France'll lose money from all the tourin if that happens."

"Yeah yer right Pop."

Time Skip

"Samson you say you need a different type of camera for our pictures?"

"Yeah Henry. Jacklin's camera don't work at Hogwarts so Ah don't think it'll work if we gotta be goin ta secret wizardin buildins."

"Ah yes. The magic interference. You bring up an excellent point. No matter. I will cover all expenses. Just tell me what you'll need."

Ah see Pop thinkin. Ah know camera's gotta have film but Ah don't think Jacklin's dad's gonna know how all that works.

"We have ta go ta the camera store. They still got 35 mm film ya need fer cameras. How many pictures do ya think we'll need cause that matters too?"

"I have a list of various locations."

He hands the list ta Pop an he counts 'em all.

"Yeah Ah think a couple rolls a film'll do. Just gotta know the words fer camera or photagphy store in this country an Ah can find it easily."

"Splendid, I can take you through the human side of Paris in the morning. For now, what do you think about dinner at the Cafe Abringer? No need for a carriage it's just a stone's throw away."

"Sounds good an all Henry but uh, what do they got ta eat? Toby can be a real picky eater at times."

Ah don't wanna admit it cause that'll ruin thangs but Pop's right. Ah hope that got somethin Ah'll like.

"No problem at all, Samson. They have the most delicious roast chicken that goes with any way to cook a potato you can possibly think of. It should suit Toby's taste quite well."

"Oh yeah Ah like roast chicken Pop. Jacklin's been tellin me all bout potatoes in France like the poms daphine."

Jacklin's dad chuckles.

"Well, Toby I certainly am glad to hear you've been learning about different types of food. Since France has strong ties to the UK you won't have to worry about not understanding the menu."

"Ok sir."

We start walkin ta the cafe an Ah talk wit Jacklin cause Ah think Ah said somethin wrong.

"What'd ya call those potatoes ya get here?"

"Pommes dauphine."

Ah look at 'er.

"Yeah. Ah ain't gonna be able ta remember that."

"That's alright, Toby. What's important is that you try to learn what it is that you'll be eating. That way you can't be caught off guard by something that's quite common."

"Is this somethin y'all do on a regular basis?"

"Of course. When you travel like my father, you have to learn about the culture of the country you're visiting."

Now everythang bout why Jacklin an 'er dad talk they way they do makes sense. Ambassador work's gotta be hard if ya gotta know a lot bout the people yer visitin. Ah jus hope the food's good where we're goin. Tha's all that matters ta me.

Time Skip

"So what'd everybody get?"

"Your Pop ordered a seafood stew, I ordered the beef, mother ordered the fish, and father got the duck meat pie with the roasted scallops."

"Scallop?"

Ah think bout that. Ah see this small roundish white thang that people eat.

"Oh yeah we got a lotta those in Florida. Ya get 'em all over the Gulf Coast. Ah only see the rich people get 'em though."

"That makes sense, Toby. In that case, I have to ask if you know what sole is?"

"Sole? Maybe if ya describe it Ah'll know. Ah ain't too good at memrizin fish like Ah am at snakes an plants."

"It's a flat fish with both eyes on the right side."

"Ohh. Closest thang Ah can think of's a hogchoker. A real small fish so Ah don't think people really eat those less they gotta."

"Well, what type of fish do you normally eat in Florida?"

Ah gotta think real hard cause Ah know it all depends on what part a Florida yer from. Shellfish ain't the same as regular fish ya catch wit a fishin pole so Ah can't answer wit somethin like shrimp or lil crabs.

"We usually eat catfish. All the rich people get stuff like snapper or tuna."

"I understand now. Different types of fish are available based on who can afford it."

"Yeah."

The waiters come over wit our food an Ah'm tryna not drool on the table. Mah chicken looks good jus like Jacklin's dad said.

"Now let's tuck in everyone."

Ah wanna show Ah'm a big boy an start cuttin up mah own chicken. This a real fancy place so they brought me a whole roast chicken. Ah dunno if Ah'm gonna be able ta eat it all but Ah'm sure gonna try.

Time Skip

"Would anyone here be wanting dessert?"

"I think we should see your dessert menu. My daughter of course would like the mi-cuit au chocolat while my wife and I would like the creme brûlée."

"Excellent choices monsieur. I will bring the dessert menu."

Ah watch the waiter walk way. By now Jacklin's gotten used ta me askin bout thangs so Ah don't even gotta ask 'er.

"I usually get a mi-cuit au chocolat or a molten chocolate cake for dessert because it's small. A creme brûlée though is a custard topped with caramelized or burnt sugar."

"Ohhhh. Sounds real good."

Pop an Ah get the dessert menu. Ah look through it an Ah recognize one a the names.

"Hey Jacklin it's that opera cake ya talked bout a while back."

"Yes, but after such a heavy meal, I wouldn't recommend getting it. That is unless you want to get it so you can take it home with you."

"Hmmm. Ah'm gonna see what else they got first."

Ah read the names tryna figure out what they all are.

"Well Ah'm stuffed. Ah'll jus get the fruit salad an some coffee. Wha bout you son?"

Ah look at Pop wit a serious face.

"Pop why'd nobody tell me they got apple pie here? This some kinda secret everybody wanted ta keep from me?"

Everybody at the table starts laughin a lil an Ah don't think it's that funny. Pop oughta know Ah like apple pie.

"Toby this isn't exactly like the type of apple pie you get in the States."

"Then what is it? Apple pie's apple pie Jacklin."

"Yes it is caramelized apples with cinnamon but it also comes with a very specific type of ice cream made made with an apple brandy from Normandy called Calvados."

Ah give 'er a look as if ta ask how that's spose ta change thangs.

"Soooooo? If it's got apples an cinnamon in a pie crust, then it's an apple pie."

"You must take apple pie very seriously, Toby."

"Ah take all dessert serious Jacklin. Pop knows Ah love me some apple pie an nobody ever thought a tellin me they got it here."

Ah know Jacklin's a girl an don't get that ya don't mess wit a boy's love a desserts but she's gotta know Ah don't like all these complicated names. Ah look up at the waiter.

"Ah'm gettin the apple pie."

"Of course young man. If I can take your menu please."

"Yeah thanks."

Time Skip

Ah still dunno wha Jacklin was comin up wit by tryna tell me they ain't got apple pie here. Sure it don't taste like a McDonald's apple pie but Ah awready knew it ain't gonna be like that. France ain't gonna be cheap like that. They got fancy food so they're gonna make apple pie's taste fancy.

"Awright Toby. Time fer bed. We's gotta do a lotta explorin tamorrow fer Jacklin's daddy."

"Ok Pop. Night."

Ah get in bed an go ta sleep wonderin wha kinda adventure we're gonna be havin. At least Ah finished all mah homework so Ah don't gotta worry bout that till we get back ta Hogwarts.

AN: Lyubimi in this context means darling.

Tagging: @arrolyn1114, @nemos-rapture, @xanatenshi, @briefpandatimemachine, @hooked-on-elvis,

@vintagepresley, @aliengoth3, @smokeymountainboy, @bigdaddyelvislover, @mercsandmonsters,

@pledgingmylovee, @presleysgirl6, @thetaoofzoe, and @elvispresley4life.

[xinimartsy]

A rant on why Chevalier's route is crap and annoying and why Clavis' is superior.

(reminder that this is MY opinion. You're allowed to disagree, or even debate me, as long as we keep it respectful.)

Clavis' route kinda upset me a lot. Not the route in itself, which was fun and wonderful, but at how better it was than some of the other routes, specially Chevalier's. (Chevalier stans, don't come for my head, it's just my opinion)

Firstly, in Clavis' route, we get to see how great MC can be. She can be clever, cunning, stubborn, brave and lots of fun, what just makes her look all the more bland in the other routes in comparison.

In particular, surprising absolutely no one, what upsets me the most are Chevalier's route and Chevalier's MC. I made a post talking about how it was much easier to ship Chevalier and Clavis' MC, since they seem to have a much better relationship than they do in his own route, but i kinda got stuck thinking why is that.

For starters, i do understand Chevalier is one of the starting routes, which is understandable because he is Ikepri's cash cow, he's one of the most popular suitors and players do tend to be somewhat attached to their first routes. And in order to not spoil any later routes, starter routes are usually the blandest.

However i think that is a huge hit to Chevalier's character. We're supposed to get to know him on a deeper level on his route, however, we end up getting to know more about him in Clavis' than in his own. And while i understand that it was in order to not spoil Clavis' route, i think it's very unlikely that we get far enough into our relationship with Chevalier without knowing the huge part of his life that is Clavis, and without having meaningful conversations such as Clavis being Chevalier's last bastion. So i feel like we were robbed of a much more interesting route with Chevalier.

Also, most people that agreed with me on that post about Chevalier's MC unlikeability described her as "naive and dumb", which is kinda true, but more for a question of poor writing rather than as actual character traits.

Chevalier would have no interest in someone dumb or that he sees as lesser than, so his mc was actually meant to be presented as being clever and a quick learner despite her good heart and starting naivety. However it doesn't come across that because they failed at writing one of the most difficult aspects of this relationship: Chevalier's genius.

He is supposed to be a genius beyond his time, almost superhuman, and there's no problem with that, except is something extremely hard to write, and the easiest mistake to make when writing a genius is lowering everyone around them instead of elevating the genius themselves.

Basically, in order to make Chevalier look like the smartest person in the room, they gotta dumb everyone down. And that's why his MC is so annoying.

As we play this first person game as said MC, we have to constantly read through many lines of him explaining things we as readers already understood, but MC was made to be puzzled because she can't possibly be on par the genius who's ten steps ahead of everyone. And then when she figures out something on her own (after a little push from Chev) we the readers are just "ughhhh finally" while, in game, she's demonstrating cleverness and quick learning.

To write a genius is needed to have a dash of unpredictability, and to actually puzzle the readers as much as the characters. That's why Sherlock Holmes was written through the point of view of Watson, so we'd always be as puzzled as him, and as shocked when Sherlock did his thing that no normal human can do, and it leave us thinking "wow, he's indeed the greatest detective around".

Meanwhile, with Chevalier, they fail at the "show don't tell", constantly telling us he's a genius and hyping up his brain, but when it comes to the showing, they don't. We can't see his gears turning or his thought process, we don't see him actually do anything amazing - aside from physical prowess - that is beyond the bounds of understanding.

Don't get me wrong, he's intelligent and his ability to predict diplomatic moves like a game of chess is impressive, but it's not something so mind blowing that we can't piece together ourselves and need a step by step explanation on how he came up with it.

And in this, i believe Clavis' was written better as a genius than Chevalier. The second prince might be a prodigy, good at everything he picks up right away, but Clavis feels like the true genius of the family, even with mishaps and failures, he keeps us on our toes and thinks outside the box.

[weird-is-life]

Library? More like a maze

Pairing: Steve harrington x fem!bookworm!reader

Sumarry: Steve desperately needs help, trying to find a book for his English class. You are the one to help him out and he asks you out for date

Warnings: language, fluff, use of y/n

Words: 1.7k Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes

Steve was letting out one curse word after another out of his mouth. He had to do some stupid paper on some book for his english class.

But he couldn't find the book anywhere in the library.

Yeah, sure he could have gone to the old librarian and ask to find it for him, but he doubted she'd tell him anything. He used to come here and cause trouble in his 'Kind Steve' era, so there was just no way she'd help him.

Steve was desperately looking at the bookshelves, trying to figure out how the numbers and the letters were supposed to direct him, where he needed to go. He'd spent the last 30 minutes wandering in the aisles and nothing, he had no clue where to look for that damn book.

He leaned against the nearest bookshelf in defeat. He would have given up by now, but he really needed to get a good grade, otherwise he wouldn't pass the class. He closed his eyes and let out a big sigh.

"Excuse me" a soft voice called out from behind him, startling him.

Steve turned around to look at the person it came from and was met with a pair of shy looking eyes, "w-would you mind stepping aside for a few seconds? I-I just need to get one book. "

Steve didn't know who you were, but your quiet, shy voice had him taking a few steps back with a small, awkward smile.

"Thank you" you said, cheeks flushed and you quickly scanned the shelf for the book.

"Sure, no problem." Steve's eyes never left your figure, not only did he though you were very fucking pretty and that he didn't know who you are, but you looked like you knew where to find books.

You were about to leave with the book clutched tightly to your chest, when Steve spoke, " Umm, i'm really sorry to bother you, but could you help me find this one book. I've been looking for it for an hour now and i honestly don't have a clue where it is."

He was looking at you with despair and you just frowned, "Is this a joke?" you asked him. You didn't understand why was Steve Harrington asking for your help.

"What? Of course not" Steve was a little confused by what you meant, but he quickly caught on, "I'm not making fun of you. I just really need to find this book for my english class or i might fail."

"Oh" you didn't know what to say, so you just stared at the ground, thinking about was going on.

"Could you help me, please? You'd be huge help" Steve begged you.

"What book?" you questioned after thinking it through.

"Sorry?" you said it so quietly, that he didn't hear it.

"What book?" you asked again, lifting your gaze from the ground to look at him.

"Pride and Prejudice."

You were gone as soon as he said the title. Steve just stood there, stunned, wondering if you just had ran away. To be honest, he wouldn't blame you, given how he used to behave.

But you didn't run away, you appeared a few seconds later in front of him with the book in your hand and a hesitant smile on your face.

"Here. "

You handed it to him, still not really sure if he wasn't just playing a prank on you.

"Oh my god, you found it?" he grinned at you happily, "thank you so so much, you're a real life saver."

"Uh, no problem" you were nervously playing with the sleeve of your sweater.

"Seriously, how can i repay you?"

"I-it's okay, i'm glad i could help" you were basically a nerve wreck under Steve Harrington's eyes. He was stupidly handsome and uncharastically kind aswell, and that made you feel some kind of weird type of way.

"Really?"

"Yeah.." you didn't want anything from him. But Steve wasn't one to give up easily, especially with a pretty girl like yourself.

" Would you go ou-"

"I g-gotta go now, sorry, bye!" now you really did run out of there. Steve realised, he didn't even know your name, but it was too late, you were already gone.

"Damn it!"

-

Your bashful, but kind smile never left Steve's mind. You were always somehow in his thoughts. He didn't understand, what was going on with him. Like he didn't even know your name and he had a big crush on you. It was driving him a little crazy. He even asked Nancy, if she knew you and all he got was, "in your dreams Steve, she's too good for you. "

So yeah, that definitely didn't help him feel like he had any chance at getting to know you.

But it seemed like the luck was on his side again. He was in the library again (yes, he's had a lot of assignments to catch up on), this time he had everything he needed. He found himself one of the last available tables there and began working on his paper.

You on the other hand didn't feel as lucky. Your day wasn't going great, you spilled a drink on your favorite t-shirt and the teacher in your last class made sure to keep you all in the class 15 minutes longer than she was supposed to.

On top of that, the library was fully filled with other students by the time you got out of the class and you couldn't find any free seats.

Well that was until you noticed Steve Harrington, he sat at the farthest table and it appeared, that he had one unoccupied chair next to him.

You didn't know what possesed you. Maybe it was Nancy, she'd told you, that Steve had changed and he was nice now or maybe it was the last encounter you'd had with him.

But somehow you walked up to him and asked him for a seat.

"Hi... " you uncertainly greeted him.

His attention was on you right away, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. Mouth hanging open with big eyes.

"H-hey... what's up?" he finally got out, he tried to play it cool, like seeing you wasn't making his heart rate go up.

"Could it sit here?" you pointed at the chair.

"What?" Steve was still a little surprised, that you were talking to him, so his brain was functioning only like on it's half capacity.

" Everything is full. So I thought, that maybe i could sit here... Never mind, i'll find something else" you turned around to walk away, cursing yourself for going over there in the first place. Of course, Steve Harrington wasn't going to let some bookworm like yourself sit next to him.

"Wait, i'm sorry. It's no problem, you can take the seat" he called out. You turned to look at him unsurely.

"Really, please take the seat. I don't mind at all" he tried to convince you.

"O-oh, okay" you carefully sat down, "thank you." Steve just nodded his head and smiled at you. He wanted to do so much more, than just give you a smile. But it was like all the words left his mind.

You spread out all of your text books and started writing your essay.

You could feel his eyes on you the whole time, but every time you looked back at him, he averted his eyes back to the paper in front of him.

Steve was trying to find some words and get back his confidence to atleast ask for your name. But it was unexpectedly harder than usual to ask for a girl's name. It was like all of his flrting skills were gone.

Steve was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn't even notice, that you were done with your homework and that you packed all of your stuff.

It was only when you stood up and pushed the chair back, that he noticed.

"Thank you for letting me sit with you, Steve" you softly thanked him.

"You know my name?" he blurted out, but as soon as he said those words he wanted to face palm himself, "Right.... no problem, you're welcome to sit me anytime...." he told you and he raised his eyebrows a little. You understood what he was asking.

"Y/N."

"As i said, anytime y/n" he beamed at you, it seemed like he wanted to tell you something else, but he stayed quiet. So you just nodded and left.

" 'M such an idiot" he cursed under his breath as soon as you were out of the door. He wanted to ask you out, but you were gone before he found the courage to do so.

But something told him to not be stupid again and run after you. So he did.

Steve packed his own stuff like a madman and ran out of the library. He caught the sight of you as you struggled to open your car doors with your hands full .

"Y/N, wait!"

You dropped all the things from your hands at the sound of his voice. "Shit, sorry, didn't mean to scare you, " he quickly crouched down to pick up your things.

"It's okay" you kindly smiled at him again and it made Steve weak in his knees, "d-did you want anything?"

"Umm yeah, so... I-I think you're really pretty and-and kind, s-so I wanted to ask if you'd go out with me?" Steve blurted out the question so fast, that you barely caught it. You just stared at him with mouth wide opened.

"B-but you don't have to go if you don't want to. I understand, we can just forget i asked anything-... "

"This isn't a joke, right?" you quizzed.

"Of course not, i wouldn't have asked you if i didn't mean it" he assured you, tho at this point Steve doubted you'd say yes, judging by your dubious expression.

"S-sure, i'll go out with you" you decided, cheeks all pink.

"It's okay, i understa- Wait what? Really?" Steve thought he heard wrong.

"Yeah, really. " You nervously chewed on your lip, but Steve's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

" Yes yes yes" he cheered and that had you giggling.

"Sorry," It was Steve's turn to have his cheeks redden now," i gotta go, but i'll call you, yeah?"

"Okay" you silently agreed.

"Okay, great! I'll see you later, bye y/n."

"Bye Steve" you said and watched Steve literally skip away, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

...

...

...

Hey guys, thank you for reading. Let me know what you think, i hope you like this. Let me know if i should write more of Steve x bookworm!reader

Have a great day and stay safe everybody. Peace out ☀️

[dameronology]

come home (tasm! peter parker)

summary: peter parker can't protect you from everything, no matter how hard he tries (spoiler free)

warnings: language, canon typical violence, kinda enemies to lovers?? and ofc, angst

enjoy xx

- jazz

Sometimes, Peter Parker thought it might have been easier if you’d died.

At least then he’d get closure; death was arguably endlessly more finite that watching your lover become your enemy. It made for a very sexy movie plot but oh, man. It was much easier to watch on the big screen that it was to have happen to you. Peter had never known a pain like that – and that was saying something, because he’d lost his parents and watched his uncle die. Part of him figured it was because you were supposed to be a constant in his life. You were like…the only other vigilante in New York. And you were his age, and you were hot. All things that lead him to naively believe that maybe, just maybe, you were soulmates. He could see now what a ridiculously phoney belief that was but everything else in his life up to that point had basically followed the events of a block-buster movie. What was to say that your love wouldn’t be the same?

Peter wasn’t naïve. He couldn’t afford to be - but you’d professed your love for him with such conviction such courage that nobody could blame him for believing you. Even after your delusions of grandeur and Oscorp brain rot had turned you against him, he still liked to think that you’d meant it.

It had been a bit shit, watching you go from a hero to a villain. Unlike Peter, you’d been born with your powers, and even more unlike him, you’d never learnt to accept them. Being a hero – another friendly neighbourhood vigilante – had given you some peace. Not enough to tide you over completely, but Peter had made it his own personal mission to remind you how perfect you were. He wasn’t even lying; in his eyes, you were the stuff of heaven. The only person in the entire fucking universe who could even begin to understand what he was going through.

“Quick,” Peter whispered, large hands on your hips. He pulled open the window to his bedroom. “Get inside before we wake Aunt May.”

You stumbled and giggled, leaping off his window ledge and onto the bed. The poor woman had thought you’d gone to bed hours ago – hell, she’d only agreed to let you stay over because you were working on a project. Neither of you had specified that it involved stopping a bank robbery. Or maybe you’d just slowed it down.

“You’re not exactly quiet, are you?” Peter continued. He quietly stepped inside after you and shut the window. His mask was tossed aside seconds later and before you could cross the room to discard your fun spandex outfit, he’d webbed your back and pulled you towards him. “Always gotta disobey me, huh?”

You smiled. “It’s fun.”

“It’ll be much less fun when my aunt walks through that door and finds us in these superhero costumes,” he grinned.

Peter pulled you into a kiss, hands splayed out on your waist. His lips were always soft – sometimes they tasted like mint, but eternally of him. You would never get tired of kissing him. Never. Every one was like your first all over again.

“At least we’re both in one piece tonight,” you said, hands gently running over the bump of the stitches in his left arm. “Can’t say the same for last night.”

“Last night was a blip,” Peter pressed his forehead to yours. “It shouldn’t have even gone that far. I shouldn’t have let Connors touch you-“

“- hey, Pete,” you cut him off. “It’s fine. His weird obsession with me will pass like it did with yours. I promise. And even if it doesn’t, I’d like to think I’m spry. I can fight him off any day.”

“Except from last night, apparently.”

“I was tired!”

Peter’s heart ached for the things of the past.

As it had gone, you weren’t strong enough to fight off Kurt Connors – not mentally, at least. He’d completely and utterly exploited your insecurities and your worries, promising to help you find a better calling for your mutations. You’d ignored Peter’s warning, choosing Oscorp instead. Why? Fucking why? How had that gone for you?

Badly.

So, so badly. Think of the worst-case scenario – that would only be touching the surface.

You were a ghost of yourself now; demoralised by a man who promised to heal you. Any urge that you’d once held to be a hero was gone. Now, you were driven by nothing but revenge; the urge to rain hell on anyone who had bared the Oscorp name. You were avenging yourself. Avenging the person you used to be and the person you could have been. You wondered often where you would have ended up, had you not strayed off to Oscop; still with Peter, probably. Maybe at college. Maybe not.

“I don’t think you’re thinking this through, baby.”

Peter was sat on his bed, brown eyes watching as you darted back and forth in front of him. He should have known you were causing trouble when you’d left class early. He’d seen you darting across the college campus, books flying everywhere. You’d been in a rush and now he knew why: a meeting with Kurt Connors.

“I am, I promise,” you insisted. “He said he can heal me, Pete.”

“You don’t need to be healed,” Peter insisted. He sat up, reaching out to you.

You stopped in your tracks, stood between his legs. He rested his head on your chest and peered up at you, hooded eyes begging in a way that his words hadn’t quite yet managed. It was like he could feel you slipping away.

“I know what I’m doing,” you murmured and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You trust me, right?”

“More than anyone in the world – it’s Connors I don’t trust,” he replied. “I just don’t see why you need to do this. You’re perfect as you are, powers or no powers.”

“It’s different for you,” you placed your hands on the back of his head, thumbs softly combing over the tufts of dark hair. “Your abilities were a calling for you, Pete. I was born with mine and they’ve plagued me my whole life. I spent every birthday as a kid wishing that I was normal.”

Peter sighed. “I’m not worried about your powers-”

“- then what is it?”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he quietly admitted. “I don’t want this to be the start of the end for us.”

“It’s not,” you shook your head. You gently pulled his head against your chest, hands still delicately playing with his hair. “It’s the beginning of something new. I promise.”

Oh man. He could only laugh now.

You’d come up on Peter’s radar a few weeks ago.

It was funny, really, because you kind of had the same mission in wanting to hold Oscorp accountable for what they’d done to you, and to thousands of others. It was just that Peter’s idea of justice lay more in handing them over to the police, whilst yours was more…screaming bloody murder type beat. You’d left a lot of bloodshed in your wake and regardless of your cause, Spiderman couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let you take justice into your own hands.

You were hard to catch. Oscorp hadn’t healed your powers - they’d made you stronger. Faster and more agile. So much so that Peter had a hard time keeping up with you as you flew across midtown

Four tries. That’s what it had taken him before he’d managed to web you and catch you on a roof-top in Harlem.

You’d fallen to the ground with all the grace of a beached whale, letting out an oof!

Peter’s heart practically fell through his chest when he saw how tired you looked. Your eyes were sunken with pain and grief; face littered with healed scars and fresh cuts. It had only been six months but based on your appearance, it could have been years. You were frailer too, with unrulier hair and a bust lip. Your powers might have been stronger, but they were eating you alive.

The worst part of all of it was that Peter still looked at you and saw somebody that he loved. Despite everything, he wanted to help you; to heal you and protect you like he should have in the first fucking place. The burden should never have been on him to keep you away from Connors but it was one he put on himself. He’d spent the last months kicking himself for not putting his foot down and literally forbidding you from going near Oscorp. It would have done fuck all – you were stubborn after all – but at least then, he could have said that he’d really tried everything.

“You look like shit.”

Peter pulled off his mask, briefly tossing it aside for the moment. He strode towards you and knelt, grabbing you by the collar and forcing you to sit up. You wanted to avoid his gaze at first, desperate to look anywhere but his wide brown eyes. It didn’t work.

“I feel like shit,” you countered.

“Powers are stronger though, huh?” he observed. “I guess Oscorp didn’t heal you after all.”

“Nope,” you snorted. “I guess you might be happy to hear that you were right all along.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m not happy. I’m the least happy I’ve been in months.”

“Let me guess – six months to be exact?”

“How did you know?”

“Because you’re a sap, Peter Parker,” you smiled.

“I guess I am,” his eyes flickered away from you and towards the city in the distance. It had started to rain a little bit, drops falling from the sky and dampening your hair. Fitting.

“I s’pose that doesn’t make this any easier.”

“I was half-expecting you to fight me,” he confessed. “I’ve seen how badly you left those Oscorp guys. I didn’t hold out much hope that you’d spare me from the same fate.”

“Did I lay a finger on you?” you asked.

Peter was silent.

“Peter,” you reached out a foot, lightly kicking him. “Answer the damn question.”

“No,” he peered back to you. “You didn’t.’

“I don’t know how low you think of me-”

“- pretty low-”

“- but I’ve never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it,” you finished. “Every person I’ve laid a finger on has been linked to Oscorp. You might just look at me and see red but Pete, I promise you, they’ve deserved it.”

“When my Uncle Ben died, I spent weeks chasing every criminal that looked like him. I took the law into my own hands and nothing good ever came of it,” Peter recalled. “I didn’t feel better for it.”

“Are you actually lecturing me right now?”

He smiled. “I am.”

“Why?” you asked. “It’s too late for me.”

“No, it’s not,” he said firmly. “I was expecting to meet a monster up here tonight but all I see is you. A tired, more vengeful you but…it’s you.”

You were the same person he’d fallen in love with – maybe a little rougher around the edges but quintessentially, you were still the same person. And who was Peter to judge you? He’d made his fair share of mistakes. In the grand scheme of things, this was just a blip. A few months out of years that would just be part of your origin story.

“What are you saying?”

Peter smiled softy. “Come home.”

“What?”

“Come home,” he repeated. “You’re a vengeful pain in my ass but I think all you need – and don’t you dare laugh at me for saying this – is love. And maybe guidance, and probably a lot of therapy.”

“I think you’re right.”

Peter unwebbed your hands. “You’re not a monster. I’m sorry that Connors convinced you otherwise and I’m even more sorry that he let you.”

“Pete,” you murmured. “None of this is your fault.”

“I know, but I should have protected you more,” he quietly admitted. “That’s like…my only job in the entire world. The only one that matters, at least.”

Your entire façade was swept away in that moment. Wide, helpless eyes and quivering lips that all pointed to the same thing: you were only trying your best. Even though you’d slipped and tripped and fallen into what was arguably your biggest fuck up ever, you’d never had bad objectives. You’d done all of this with somewhat bloody but mostly pure intentions; protecting other people from Oscorp. Making sure the same thing didn’t happen again.

Peter reached out to you, gently pulling you towards him and into his chest. Long arms came to wrap around your waist, one hand holding your head under his chin and the other running up and down your back. A choke sob escaped your mouth and you clung onto his suit; tears masked by the rain. It was heavy now.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured. “We’re gonna go home, yeah? You can throw away these god-awful clothes and have a shower and from there it’ll just…we’ll just move forward, okay? Just me and you, and no-one else.”

“I love you,” you quietly whispered.

“I love you too,” Peter replied. "And from now on, I'm going to protect you."

[bisamwilson]

I MUST know about this Anastasia AU of yours

hi zainab!!! thanks for the ask <3

i think (?) i told you about this in dms once but truly who knows, basically i went to see the show anastasia and i was like SAMBUCKY ANNOYANCES TO LOVERS vibes and i wrote a short snippet in mysu

i haven't done anything else with it yet bc i gotta figure out the worldbuilding for it (like is delacroix a kingdom sam's family ruled? what happened to make him get lost? who survived? etc etc etc) but i do still like my original little bit i wrote for it

snip:

Sam finally caves and looks over at Bucky, quickly focusing anywhere else when his heart stutters at his stupid, adorable bun. “And how did you learn to waltz, Bucky? Steve scammed his way to royalty, but I don’t recall you ever mentioning you were a fake Count.”

“All the kitchen kids would sit outside during the royals’ lessons, teach ourselves based on what we could hear them say. We were never exactly good at it, but I’ve charmed my way into my fair share of fancy dances and dinners since then. Nice enough suit and a smooth enough three step, no one even bats an eye.”

Sam finally takes his hand, allowing himself to be pulled in close. He smirks when Bucky pauses in his cocky monologue long enough to take in a sharp breath, and tries not to think about how warm his hand feels in Sam’s. 

“Well you’ve got two weeks to teach me how to get to that level, Buck. Best start dancing.”

Bucky pulls him into a rhythm, rocking along to the sway of the boat rather than a tune in his head. He smells like stolen cigarettes and saltwater, and Sam’s not sure if it’s the sea or the scent that’s making his head spin. 

Bucky really is a good dancer, much as he’d be damned to admit it. He leads him around the deck of the boat without missing a step, without hesitation, and Sam follows right along like they’d always been meant to dance this way. 

send me an ask with a title from this wip list and i'll tell you about it/give you a snip!

[myckicade]

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

*

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

*

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

*

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

*

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

*

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

*

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.