#so if there are weird autocorrects please ignore them

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Encontrar tu media naranja

♥ pairing: lando norris x latina!fem!singer!reader

♥ synopsis: during one of your concerts a fan threw their phone up on stage. after you finished recording a video, you tried tossing it back to them and ended up accidentally hitting a world famous f1 driver in the face

♥ smau - none of the pictures are mine - face claim: alexa demie

♥ warnings: swearing, blood, accidental violence lol !!!

♥ a/n: if I had a nickel for every time I wrote a fanfic about finding love by getting hit in the face with object I'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice. + ignore spelling errors in my Spanish please some of it autocorrected lol

♥ masterlist

You turned your back towards the crowd as people cheered. You raised the phone in your hand up high to get as many people in the video as possible. After you ended the recording, you clicked the phone off and tried tossing it back to the original fan that threw it on stage.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd around the barricades as the phone hit a man's face. You covered your gaping mouth with your hand as you realized what you'd just done.

Your jaw was still dropped as you tried to speak.

"¿Estás bien?" you questioned.

(are you okay?)

You panicked internally as you tried to think of what to do.

"Can we get him some help?" you said, turning your gaze towards a few security guards.

"Todo el mundo por favor retroceda."

(everyone please stand back)

Security walked the man and his party out of the stadium rendering you absolutely speechless.

"Uhm," you said into the mic. "Did you get your phone back?" you asked the initial fan with an embarrassed expression.

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landonorris aftermath

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yourusername IM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU'RE DOING OK

user6 HOW HARD DID SHE THROW THAT PHONE ���😭😭

user9 miss girl can THROWWW

user1 y/n l/n baseball career when?

user7 girl needs to be pitching for the red sox, fuck 😭

user5 I feel so bad for laughing so hard

user10 the piss poor bandages on his nose-

user4 why is there so much blood holy shit

user12 didn't know Lando was a fan of her

user14 pretty sure Carlos dragged him to her concert lol

user2 not his friends laughing at him 💀

user18 someone drop the video

user16 is he okay?!?!

user17 meet cute 😍

user1 WHY IS THIS IS SO FUNNY

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

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yourusername safe to say he forgave me

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user7 STUNNER

user1 you can throw a phone at my face any time 🤷‍♀️

user6 LANDO NOWINS NO MORE

user9 I will never get over this 😭

user18 it was just an inchident

user16 wait she wasn't wearing that while she was there??

user19 pretty sure that was a pic of her at whatever after parties they went to lol

user14 Florida nights are cold as fuck

user4 do you think Carlos is jealous of all the attention Lando is getting from her

user2 the poly fics write themselves

user10 oh my god YESSS!!!

user50 why does f1 invite celebrities that know nothing about the sport???

user12 not her wearing landos merch

user3 im sure he made her wear it lmaoo

user5 LANDO'S FIRST WIN

user17 P1 LETS FUCKING GO

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

-A Few Months Later-

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yourusername @ landonorris

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carlossainz55 and this was the same guy who was complaining about going to her concert a few months ago

landonorris if I remember correctly that concert ended pretty badly for me

user12 you got a girlfriend out of it I’d call that a win

user40 @/user12 they're not dating ???

user10 find someone who smiles at you the way they smile at each other

user9 they’re so cute

user3 don’t be shy drop the picture(s) he took of her

user7 I need him I fear

user8 📱👃

user1 hes so cute

user13 just date already

user15 you're so pretty

user17 I will literally never forget her breaking his nose lmaooo

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

liked by landonorris, kaliuchis, carlossainz55, and 656,943 more

yourusername my new single "encontrar tu media naranja" is out now 🧡

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user8 ok but why does the guy in the music video look like lando...

user7 oh my god

user13 I see the vision

user9 YOURE ONTO SOMETHING

user1 Kali Uchis collab when?

user12 literally begging for a song with her, kali, and peso pluma

user3 orange sodas >>>

user24 📱👃

user11 this song is so good 🧡

user18 who's the guy in the mv???

user19 shes gorgeous

user17 I love her

user25 wait this is the singer that broke lando's nose

user5 🧡🧡🧡

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, carlossainz55 and 472,396 more

yourusername encontré a mi otra mitad

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landonorris te amo querida 🧡

yourusername 🧡

user5 bro's adorable

user2 encontrar tu media naranja? more like econtrar tu media papaya

user1 that's an interesting angle

user9 Lando still doesn't know how to make a heart with his hands lmao 😭

user7 I FUCKING KNEW IT !!!

user11 YESSS

user14 and now they're married with five kids

user18 mom and dad

carlossainz55 formally known as lando "who's y/n?"Norris

landonorris ive grown since then

user12 fuck Romeo and Juliet I want what they have

user6 so the song WAS about lando

user8 and it all started with a phone 📱

user10 I'm tearing up

[elijah-loyal]

🎸 elise-punx

me: yo pass the aux my friend: you better not play trash me: *plays the shittiest old-ass recording of that one guy's TERRIBLE punk rock band*

#listen i know i know its super unhealthy to like stalk people #but this guy??? #like he's done so much shit and he's not even that old??? #how does he have multiple phds AND has been in a band?? #teach me your ways

24 notes

🇺🇸 nixon-official Follow

Anonymous asked:

what do you think president nixons opinion would be on kaiju bone powder and do you think he'd shit himself?

#shit himself on powder??? #or the fact that its like #a new drug?? #anon please 😭😭😭 #nixon official #satire #meme #nixon #america #joke account #kaiju #kaiju drugs #tw: drugs

57,603 notes

🦞 dick-gr4ys0n69 Follow

bruh im going down to my grandma's place in Lousiana for the weekend!!!!!

cant wait for the kaiju boil 🤤🤤🤤

🌼 tiny-tales-mariah

op... op did you mean cajun boil???  😭 😭 😭

🦞 dick-gr4ys0n69 Follow

FUCK YOU'RE RIGHT 😭 I'VE BEEN ON MY FORUMS TOO MUCH AND IT AUTOCORRECTS NOW 😭 😭 😭

🐟 ka1jucr-AZE Follow

#op must be going CRAZY for their thing to autocorrect like that 😭 #kaiju typo #typo #op hope you have a good time 🙏

89,003 notes

🤾 jaeger-meister Follow

it's so fucking stupid that you legally can't build a jaeger unless you're involved in the program, like what the fuck

#like apparently vigilanti-ism isnt allowed anymore #i've got a friend from MIT whos a fuckin whizz at this shit and he got arrested after a raid on his warehouse where he had jaeger blueprints in his bench #and that was apparently enough to fucking arrest him??? #he's tryna get out of jail now but like what the fuck #as if y'all are handling REAL jaegers well anyway

81 notes

🟩 gshsnyaloid Follow

is anyone else like, super fed up with the weird kaiju porn bots?

🌀 kaijubl00-8940275 Follow

click the link in my bio for some 🔞🌀🐉 :)

#fandom #spn #iasip #kaiju #kaijuu #kaiju blue #18+ #nsfw #haircut #sherlock bbc #amc iwtv #iwtv #disney

1,075 notes

🏴󠁵󠁳󠁯󠁨󠁿 j-toh-io Follow

GUYS WHAT THE FUCK I JUST GOT INTO TRAINING FOR THE JAEGER PROGRAM!!!

#this has been like my dream since i was a kid #i dont even have a cool story or anything im from ohio so its not like weve ever HAD a kaiju attack #but HOLY SHIT IT ALL PAID OFF GUYS!!!!!! #AHHHHHHH!!!!

9,067 notes

☕️ mother-squared Follow

Listen, guys; I keep seeing a loooooot of tumblrinas being SUPER weird about the two K-Scientists (yeah, THOSE two, you know who I'm fucking talking about) and it's just super insensitive and gross of you all to keep shipping them.

Like, these are real fucking people, not just characters!!! They have lives, probably wives and kids (and if they don't, does it really matter??), and not to mention that at ANY public appearance they literally hate each other.

This aren't guys for your little "yaoi blorbo hours," these are real fucking people who are trying to do their JOBS. Not to mention the WEIRD ideas y'all have about them (like, seriously??? wtf was that one post about the glasses guy helping the other down the stairs?? he literally has a cane its normal to help your colleagues down stairs when they're disabled). STOP FORCE-GAYING REAL LIFE MEN!! It's not cute.

🏳️‍🌈 tt-tiny-starz Follow

awwww, is op mad that people are queer??

☕️ mother-squared Follow

Literally no, you missed the entire fucking point of my post

🪻 appollo-and-hyacinthus-2005 Follow

Oh, the post where you said, "STOP FORCE-GAYING REAL LIFE MEN," in all caps? Don't worry op, (ignoring your blatant ignorance) i'll lay it out for you

neither of them have wives and kids; my mutual kstrait is super into K-Sci work and did background dives on each of them

they actually DON'T hate each other, as is evident from Dr. Geiszler's twitter account here; he FREQUENTLY vagueposts about his lab partner and rarely actually seems to get pissed about him. Also, wdym "public appearances????" They've literally appared together in public MAYBE three times in the last couple years, so how would YOU know if they hate each other in public???

have you SEEN ppdc-confessions page??? SO MANY of their anons are literally ppdc workers complaining about how bickering-married-couple they act

WHY ARE YOU DOWNPLAYING DR. GEISZLER HELPING DR. GOTTLIEB???? Dr. Gottlieb famously does not like people touching him (or even calling him by his first name, actually, according to one of ppdc-confessions anons) so why would he let his lab partner???

Hope you can stop being a bigot and a jerk, op

☕️ mother-squared Follow

Excuse you, what the fuck??? Firstly, that PROVES MY POINT: you all are super fucking creepy literally LOOKING THROUGH these guys' backgrounds and shit. Also, relying on literal ANONS to prove a point? They're anons for a REASON, I can't believe you don't take that shit with a METRIC-TON of salt

Also, "downplaying his assistance?" I'M disabled, and your weird fucking infantilization of disabled people is disgusting. We're not babies that need help all the fucking time, and it's super gross of you to do that.

🪻 appollo-and-hyacinthus-2005 Follow

what are you even talking about??? WHERE have i infantilized disabled people?? that has NO bearing on this conversation, omfg

☕️ mother-squared Follow

Jesus, you people will do anything to justify your sick fucking fantasies. Have anything else to add?

🧰 kstrait Follow

hey

hey op

old man yaoi

#jesus this person is chronically online #its all in good fun, like come on #EDIT: LMFAO THEY BLOCKED ME

389,028 notes

🪽 faggle-d4ke Follow

y'all i think they should let me into the shatterdome with no

📟 sir-this-isnt-a-wendys Follow

guys i think they sniped op 😭😭😭

#LMAOO MY CAT SAT ON THE KEYBOARD AND HIT SEND MY BAD #IM ALIVE

28,034 notes

Pacific Rim Dashboard Simulator

🙇‍♀️ alphamycherno Follow

i don't know about this "let's build a wall" thing like. where's the sexiness? the vibes? what's the point of war if we don't even have hot people in big fuckass robots anymore

🎴 coyote-t Follow

there are so many legitimate, important reasons to protest the wall of life, but whatever it takes i guess. sure. it's not fuckable enough

5,345 notes

🐉 exxxtraterrestrial Follow

happy kaiju blue monday!!

#happy kaiju blue monday

137,294 notes

🦅 ppdc-confessions

Anonymous asked:

I'm a janitor at the HK shatterdome and certain two german scientists should either fuck or finally kill each other at this point, I don't care. They're always in the lab no matter the time of day so I can't avoid them and so they try to get me (the janitor) to choose sides in their domestics!! I refuse to step in that lab again and involve myself in whatever the fuck they've got going on. They'll just have to clean that shit themselves

#this is the third confession about these scientists this week are you guys okay

306 notes

🍱 scissure

are we forgetting that PPDC is literally military like you people are not immune to propaganda

☠ buena-guy Follow

You are right. The kaiju are here to bring us to justice, there's no sense in fighting them. If you also feel like this, you can find out more on my blog ❤

🍱 scissure

SILENCE, CULTIST

870 notes

💃 shatterdo-me Follow

what if we kissed in the drift 🥺👉👈 and we were both girls 😳

#ok but for real what do you mean i have to go get into the MILITARY to become a JAEGER PILOT if i want to find my SOULMATE this is so fucked up #release the tech #for the gays

38,563 notes

[arrowflier]

serotonin boost prompt whenever you find the time: gallavich date with secret smiles, sweet kisses and the handholding we all deserve ❤️❤️

"We're gonna miss it, Mickey," Ian says for at least the third time, eyes on the ever-ticking clock over their fireplace.  Mickey, kneeling on the floor in front of the worn sofa they had grabbed off a curb when they found out they had to get their own, just shrugs.  He picks out a bright red crayon to pass to Franny, who's laying on her stomach next to him scribbling on the back of an ad for the local co-op.

"Calm down, man," he tells Ian.  "She'll be here soon, can't do anything about a late train."

Ian sighs, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes.  "Since when do you stand up for Debbie?"

Mickey eyes him warily from the floor.  "Since it's not her fault," he answers, then asks, "Why you so worked up about it, anyway?  It's not a big deal."

He sounds honestly confused, and it only makes Ian more upset.  This was supposed to be their night.  Their one night, all week, to just do something nice together.  And Debbie had to come to them for last-minute babysitting while she went to an interview, then had to be late enough getting back to send all Ian's plans circling the drain.

He doesn't say any of that to Mickey.  "It's nothing," he mumbles instead, knowing it sounds unconvincing but not really caring at the moment.

Sure enough, Mickey's eyes narrow and he opens his mouth to reply, but gets interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Mommy!" Franny cries, jumping off the floor to race to the apartment door.  Mickey is slower to rise, grumbling about getting too old for sitting on the floor; if Ian we're in a better mood, he'd tease him for being perfectly fine with lying on it the other night.  Ian stays put, leaving Mickey to follow their niece with a concerned glance back at him.

Ian listens to Mickey opening the door, reminding Franny to let him do it, and greeting Debbie.  He knows if he followed, he'd say something about her tardiness, so he lets Mickey make his excuses and wave the two of them off.

He braces himself when he hears the door click closed again, and Mickey's footsteps come back around into the living room.

Mickey doesn't say anything about his sour mood.

"Kay, you ready?" he asks instead, grabbing his wallet from the crate temporarily serving as a coffee table.

Ian laughs humorlessly.

"I was ready an hour ago," he points out dryly.  "But we missed our reservation already, Mick, we're not going anywhere now."

Mickey frowns at him.  "Nah, fuck that, man," he says.  "This is our night, right?" he asks, and Ian would be lying if he said that didn't warm him up a little, hearing Mickey call it that.

"Yeah," he agrees, and Mickey nods decisively.

"Let's go then," he orders, gesturing to the door.  "I ain't givin' up on tonight that easy."

Ian can't help but grin, even as he asks, "go where?"

Mickey smirks, and slaps Ian on the ass when he gets up and walks past him.  Ian starts, twisting to look at him with wide eyes, and Mickey waggled his eyebrows just to make Ian laugh.

"You let me worry about that, tough guy."

--

They end up outside the restaurant they had picked out together, some weird new mexican fusion place that advertised world-class margaritas.  Mickey had gotten fond of the drink back in Mexico, and Ian figured it was something they could enjoy together.

"Mickey," he says as they get closer, " it took us two weeks to get in here, there's no way they held our table."

Mickey shakes his head.  "Gallagher, I'm disappointed in you," he says as he leads Ian to the door.  "Ain't conning you way into places your family's shtick?"

Ian just looks at him, brow furrowed, and Mickey rolls his eyes.

"Just hang back a sec, til I wave you over, alright?" he demands.  "Watch and fuckin' learn."

And he's off, through the crowd at the entrance and straight up to the podium at the front.  Ian can't hear what he says, but there are some wild gestures and hushed but tense words exchanged.  At one point, Mickey gets out his phone and taps at it impatiently, pretending to wait for a response before waving it in the host's face.

That bit seems to do the trick, and Ian is waved over, picking his way through the other waiting groups without looking any if them in the face.

When he gets to the front, Mickey is saying, " and you're lucky he didn't have to hear any of that 'overbooked' bullshit, he'd have your fuckin' job for that," before taking off into the restaurant with Ian trailing behind.

He stops at a booth toward the back, and gestures Ian in first, sliding into the bench on the other side.

"What did you do?" Ian hisses lowly, leaning across the table toward him.

Mickey grins, and taps their feet together, catching one of Ian's and drawing it back to his side. 

"Told 'em you were Ed Sheeran," he jokes.  He reaches under the table to grab Ian's leg, pulling his foot up to rest on Mickey's lap.  Ian has to lean back to make it comfortable, but the stroke of Mickey's thumb against the bone of his ankle is worth it.

"You did not," Ian pokes, but Mickey shrugs.

"Does it matter?" he asks quietly as a waiter approaches.  Ian pulls his leg back, aware of how they must look, but takes Mickey's hand over the table instead.

"Guess not," he accepts, squeezing Mickey's fingers and feeling the metal of his ring.  "Thanks," he adds, and Mickey's smile turns soft.

"Anytime," he murmurs, then grabs the menu to give his order.

--

"That was amazing," Ian groans an hour later, a stack of empty plates between them.  Mickey hums his agreement, taking a final bite of fried ice cream dessert before tossing his spoon down with a clatter.

"Fuck yeah it was," he says with a burp that has the couple at the nearest table eying them with distaste.  "Except the margaritas," he adds with a scowl, taking a long drag from the bottled beer they had quickly switched to.  "Too fuckin' sweet."

"Thought you liked 'em sweet," Ian teases, leaning closer, and Mickey licks his lips.

"Nah," he says slowly, "that's just how I like my men."  He winks, and Ian flushes immediately.

"Oh my God," he manages to squeak out, hands flat on the table.  "You did not just say that." 

Mickey laughs, open and free, and grabs Ian's hand again without prompting.

"The drinks were shit, though," he muses.  "Now that I think of it, maybe I was just drinkin' straight tequila down south."

It's Ian's turn to laugh--"only you, Mick"--and they're both grinning like fools when he stops.

"Ready to get outta here, Red?" Mickey murmurs, tilting his head toward the end of the booth.

"Sure, Mick," Ian agrees easily, then let's go if his husband's hand to fumble for his wallet.  "Let me just..."

"Hey, no," Mickey interrupts.  "They gave away our reservation, man, we ain't payin' for shit."

"What--Mickey!" Ian whispers, but Mickey is already up and moving quickly toward the back, where he catches the door to the kitchen before it closes behind a surprised waiter and slips inside.

With a muffled groan, Ian takes off after him.

He almost makes it, but before the door shuts behind him, he hears the host yelling, "Hey, you can't go in there!"

"Shit, shit, shit," Ian mutters, faced with at least one sous-chef staring at him across the bustling kitchen.  Before he has time to panic, though, Mickey is back at his side, grabbing his arm and pulling.

"This way, dipshit!" he hisses as they wind through counters and racks and boxes toward the door to the back alley.  "Should've known you'd get caught," he pants, out of breath, "it's the fuckin' hair, man, too bright."

"You like my hair," Ian offers stupidly.  Mickey stops long enough to make sure Ian sees him roll his eyes, and grabs a folded tablecloth and a bottle of something fancy from next to the door before he shoves it open with a hip and pulls Ian out into the cool night air.

Ian looks back for pursuit, but the kitchen workers couldn't care less.  One of them even salutes him with a bread knife, lips twitching, until the door closes and breaks their line of sight.

They run for a few blocks anyway, until Mickey tugs him into a different alley to catch their breaths.

"That was some date night," Ian pants, hands on knees and a wide grin on his face.

"Night ain't over yet," Mickey disagrees.  He pushes off the brick wall he had leaned against, motions back to the street with the arm not holding what he pilfered from the restaurant kitchen.  "C'mon, man, we got somewhere to be."

Then he's off again, albeit at a more sedate pace, and Ian laughs again as he follows.  He catches up with a few long strides and grabs Mickey's hand, letting his husband lead him once again.

--

This time, they wander farther, only stopping when they come to a park with overly green grass and a neatly manicured baseball diamond.

It isn't their field, the one with the dugout they used to frequent; that field is back Southside, and they haven't walked that far.  But it's close, and Ian's heart pounds as Mickey leads him around the open fencing and toward the outfield.

They stop at the greenest point, and Mickey releases Ian's hand to throw down his stolen tablecloth, kicking the edges until it's more or less flat and open.  He plops down immediately, just off center, and motions for Ian to do the same as he uses his pocket knife to uncork the stolen bottle of booze.

Ian sits as Mickey takes a swig of the mystery liqour, then accepts the bottle when he passes it over.

"This is nice," he says after a long sip of what turned out to be a moderately pleasant red.  "How did you know it was here?"

Mickey reaches for the bottle again, taking another swallow before he answered.  "Was helping Debs look at schools," he admits.  "For Franny, when she's older."

Ian doesn't press.  He loves how much Mickey dotes on their niece, but he knows talking about it makes him uncomfortable still, their own future hanging over them.

He lays down instead, and looks up. The stars are out, glittering above them in patterns he doesn't understand, but thinks must mean something good.

"Thanks for tonight," he says softly to the sky.

The tablecloth rustles as Mickey leans on his elbows next to him.

"Anytime," he replies. He looks down at Ian, and turns on his side so he can brush red hair back from his face.

"Gonna tell me why you were so upset, earlier?" he questions, voice light but serious. "Not like you to freak out like that."

Ian nuzzles into the hand on his face, and closes his eyes. "Just wanted to do something for you," he admits. "You were so excited about finding that place. And you're always doing stuff like that for me."

His eyes flutter open again, fixing on Mickey's face. "Figures the first time I try, everything goes wrong and you have to take over again."

Mickey doesn't respond right away. He watches him, thumb stroking his cheekbone, hand curling around behind his ear.

When he does speak, it's quiet. "I like doin' that shit for you, Ian," he says. "Makes me...happy. To see you smilin'."

Ian's lips stretch into a gentle curve, and Mickey returns it. "Yeah," he whispers, leaning down until their noses brush. "Like that," he finishes, the words lost against Ian's lips as they kiss.

Ian doesn't know how long they stay there, laying on that thin piece of fabric over the grass, making out under the stars. He doesn't care. Because it's Mickey. And despite everything that went wrong tonight, being there with Mickey was perfect.

They're eventually interuppted by what feels like rain, but turns out a second later to be the timed sprinkler system switching on. Mickey yelps into his mouth at the cold water as they break apart, scrambling to dash across the field and to the relative safety of the sidewalk. They leave the tablecloth where it is, a sad heap if fabric wet with water and remainder of their overturned bottle of red wine, and fall against each other as they turn to head toward home.

"Still wanna thank me?" Mickey jokes on the way, teeth chattering as his skin dries.

"Yeah, I do," Ian says, nudging him with a hip before pulling him back, wrapping a long warm arm around his shoulders.

"Tonight was perfect."

And if they stop again to kiss against under the L on their way, Mickey's back pressed to the support and legs hugging Ian's waist, well. It is still their night, after all.

[xxm1m1kyuxx]

korekiiyo shiingujii ana1ysiis

spoii1ers for ndrv3!

iit’s quiite hard to wriite 1iike thiis wiith autocorrect on, so from the 1iine break be1ow ii wii11 not be usiing my typiing quiirk Σ(･口･)

word count (exc1udiing author’s notes): 1,611 words

tota1: 1,717 words

for siimp1iiciity's sake, ii've done thiis on computer so that there's not a wa11 of text

~*~

"You wonder, "Who is this?" Yes... I shall make that clear first. My name is Korekiyo Shinguji... I am called the Ultimate Anthropologist."

~*~

Hello everyone, my name is Milo, and today I’ll be doing my best to cover one of my favorite characters in the Danganronpa universe, Korekiyo Shinguji. He is originally from the 3rd mainline game, New Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony. Since I don’t physically own the game, I’m basing most of this essay entirely on the Danganronpa Wiki page for Shinguji. Please read that if you desire a more lengthy look at his actions from an unbiased perspective since this one leans more towards empathy than hatred. Whoops!

We first properly meet him after talking to everyone else inside of Hope’s Peak. He’s in the main hall and standing away from the doors leading out to the courtyard. When he introduces himself, Shinguji goes on to talk about anthropology and the beauty of humanity. This proceeds to creep Akamatsu out.

Alongside that, in Chapter 3, we are unfortunately forced to see his relationship with his sister. It’s weird and only gets weirder if you spend two of your Free Time events talking to him when you first play as Akamatsu. He’s evaluated that all girls present at the academy would be great “friends” for his sister, barring Iruma and Harukawa. This is because Shinguji believes that Harukawa doesn’t believe in the power of love, and Iruma is just… well, she’s Iruma. Hardly the girl you would want to send home to your parents.

This weird incest plotline is unfortunately present in most Danganronpa games, such as Leon and his cousin (though one-sided on his cousin’s behalf; he didn’t like her), Tsumugi in the Love Hotel (if you consider that canon), and Monotaro & Monophanie (which is then implemented into Gokuharu’s execution, killing them both).

His sister’s name is never disclosed in-game or in any other Danganronpa media, so the fandom dubbed her “Miyadera/Miyatera,” which is an alternate way of reading Shinguji’s last name. The miya character - represented as 宮 - and tera character - 寺 - are both present in Shinguji, 真宮寺. For the rest of this essay/paper, I’ll be referring to his sister as Miyadera, and himself as Shinguji.

I’ll be getting deeper into his mischaracterization later on, but I want to talk about his appearance for now. Mainly, his hair, his mask, and the lipstick he wears. From what we see of Miyadera in Shinguji’s execution, if that is Miyadera at all, we can see that she had long hair, and when Shinguji was turned into a ghost, it was the exact shade of Shinguji’s hair. From here, we can assume that Miyadera looks exactly, if not similar, to Shinguji.

His lipstick and mask are results of representations of his tulpa, Miyadera. Tulpa is defined as “a concept in mysticism and the paranormal of a being or object which is created through spiritual or mental powers.” In much simpler terms, it is an object or living thing that was created/imagined through spiritual/mental abilities. Shinguji gained a tulpa by being beaten half to death by villagers shortly after arriving there. When he was in a state between life and death, he saw his sister, who joined his subconscious and took control of his body whenever his mask was off. It’s why we only see him take off his make once Saihara dubs him the culprit of Chapter 3, and why his voice suddenly took a more feminine tone. A quote from Miyadera, which can be found in the game, is, "Sweet Korekiyo, calm yourself... Their words are all hollow. There is no meaning to any of them... You must teach these ignorant children a lesson."

That statement can be interpreted two ways, one; that she’s trying to calm him down and two; she’s repeating whatever she said to him during childhood. It’s implied that Miyadera passed away from disease sometime before Killing Harmony takes place, which is both a good and bad thing. It’s great because then we have some time frame of how she was and how she acted when Shinguji knew her best.

Whenever I read the quote above, or any of her quotes, to be honest, I am filled with a sense of dread, or even, despair. The following quote especially makes me feel terrible; "Calm yourself, Korekiyo. You mustn't raise your voice. You mustn't stutter. You mustn't lose composure. You mustn't become flustered. You mustn't waver. Look at their horrid faces. This sorry lot is not worth agonizing over."

Have you noticed how she’s setting guidelines on how to defend himself? She’s turning Shinguji’s attention away from Saihara and the trial and to her because she knows that Shinguji trusts her even after all these years.

You might be wondering, “Milo, what the hell does that all have to do with Shinguji?” And I’ll tell you plain and simple: he was abused by Miyadera. Shocking, I know. Having Shinguji rave and rant about being in love with her, only to be a victim? Sadly, it’s very true indeed. Shinguji was most likely groomed and gaslighted into thinking that Miyadera loved him when that was not the case.

Gaslighting is defined as, “[to] manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their own sanity.” From the two quotes I provided, it doesn’t seem to make sense. Miyadera only sounds like a kind, worrisome older sister. Incorrect, I say. She’s emotionally gaslighting him, trying to make him believe that the trial makes no sense and he shouldn’t worry about any of them. I can also bet she used this tactic to control him as a younger person as well.

It’s a well-known fact that children are both impressionable and gullible. If an older sister figure came up to you as a child and told you to do unmentionable things, unfortunately, you might follow her directions. Shinguji states that his sister was a sickly girl who often stayed in the hospital. When she would come home, he’d be at his easiest to manipulate. Why would his dear, sweet, sickly, older sister ever lie to him?

Next, I’m going to be covering his relationships with other students, namely Shuichi Saihara and Rantaro Amami. These will delve further into spoiler territory, so if you didn’t already read the warnings I put in place, here is your extra warning for spoilers for Chapter 3 of Killing Harmony.

To start with, I’ll be exploring his poorer relationships first. Most of the girls fit into this category, namely Iruma, Harukawa, Chabashira, and Yonaga - that means he has a terrible standing with four of the eight girls present at the beginning of Killing Harmony, five if you count Yumeno’s way of dealing with Chabashira’s murder. Shinguji even taunts her once they solve that mystery, stating, “Let me guess, you’ll never forgive me. Himiko, you must hate me so very much right now. Maybe you’d feel better if I was executed by Monokuma…”

Shinguji has a poor relationship with Iruma and Harukawa due to seeing them as “unfit” to be “friends” with Miyadera. He has a poor relationship with Chabashira because he’s a degenerate male, but he still thinks she made a good friend for his sister. His poor relationship with Yonaga is shown in Chapter 3 when Yonaga forms the student council. Once again, I’m making amends to some parts of the characters. I’ll be referring to Yonaga’s god as God, simply because Atua is an actual Polynesian god in real life. Shinguji doesn’t worship any god, and so wants to study Yonaga’s God purely for anthropologic purposes. This displeases Yonaga, who then states that God's business hours are closed for the day. In Chapter 3 when Yumeno brings up Yonaga’s God, he simply asks whether or not they’re done talking about it, cementing his distrust in faith.

Next, I’ll cover his better relationships. Akamatsu isn’t too terribly creeped out by him and instead sees Shinguji as a kind guy who cares about his sister. Akamatsu even apologizes for saying that Shinguji would be into inc*st, this event either taking place in his first or second Free Time event. I’m saving his and Saihara’s relationship for last since I’ll have the most to write about then. Instead, please enjoy the news that in the events of Ultimate Talent Development Plan (UTDP for typing purposes), Shinguji and Amami are actually great friends. In Amami’s first free time event, he tells Akamatsu that Korekiyo has a strong personality, but she’ll be able to understand him plenty if she takes time to. It’s also stated that Amami emphasizes that Shinguji is also the calm and clever type.

Lastly, I’ll be exploring his relationship with Saihara. It’s slightly rocky, if only because Shinguji hasn’t let go of his sister yet, but it’s miles better than his relationship with Chabashira. Slight side note before we begin, I’ll be discounting the Love Hotel scene mostly because I’m a minor and I don’t feel completely comfortable having to watch that simply because I’m writing an analysis. As the game progresses to Chapter 3, Shinguji and Saihara have built trust between themselves. While Saihara still found Shinguji creepy, he [Saihara] never discounted him simply for existing. There was even a point where Shinguji offered to help Saihara communicate with Akamatsu from beyond the grave, though he was turned down.

Korekiyo Shinguji is a misunderstood and somewhat tragic character who usually gets disregarded and uncredited all because people do not like him. However he’s not an “uwu soft twamatized bean <3” either. He’s a strong character who has questionable morals at best and a terrible representation of an abused character at worst.

~*~

thank you for readiing!! p1ease make sure to get a hea1thy amount of s1eep and that you do have a cup of water and some food, you deserve iit!!

sources:

- https://danganronpa.fandom.com/wiki/Korekiyo_Shinguji

- https://www.quotev.com/story/7873923/Danganronpa-Class-Trials/73 (siide note: how fucked up iis iit that ii was on1y ab1e to fiind a transcriiptiion of the triia1 on quotev)

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, language

Authors note: every time I wrote “Thor”, it autocorrected to “thot” and honestly that’s fitting. Also, I changed a few things from the canon story. Enjoy and feedback is always appreciated:)

Masterlist

“Hello?”

A beat of silence.

“Hello? My name is Y/n. Is anyone there?” You pressed the buzzer again. You looked around above you and spotted a camera. You waved your hands in front of it.

“Hello? Is anyone inside? My name is Y/n. Please, someone answer.” You tried again.

You were met with more silence. You were completely and utterly sick of silence.

“Is anyone there? Please. I’m friends with Mr. Stark.” You shouted. You continued to wave your hands in front of the camera. Finally, you heard the buzzer crackle.

“You’re Tony’s friend?” A voice asked. He sounded desperate and older than you. His voice was followed by a series of shushes and disagreement. You heard multiple voices, one definitely belonging to a woman.

“I say we let her in. She’s hot.” A cocky voice suggested. It was followed by more shushes.

“She could be dangerous.” The woman’s voice said. She sounded authoritative but kind.

“Does she look dangerous? Quill could do more harm and he was a tub of lard.” The cocky voice said again. If you weren’t so confused and lost, you would’ve laughed.

“Um…the microphone is still on.” You said awkwardly. It was followed by a moment of embarrassed silence before the first voice came back.

“Come in.” He finally said. The door stirred and opened and you quickly went inside the Avengers tower.

You were met with a group of people you slightly recognized from newscasts and magazine articles. You knew they were the Avengers, or at least what was left of them. They were very popular when you lived in New York but you hadn’t heard from them in a while.

“What did you say your name was again?” A blonde man stepped forward. You recognized his voice from before.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You stammered. Everyone was staring you down so intensely. Everyone except a broad man in the corner, who sat slumped over a desk with a blank stare on his face.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n. I’m Steve.” The man stuck out his hand and you shook it. He had an impossibly firm grasp. His voice was horse and though he tried to put a positive look on his face, he looked defeated.

“You’re Captain America right?” You asked calmly. You didn’t want to geek out at such a trying time, but you knew exactly who he was. He gave you a slight smile.

“I am. This is Natasha.” Steve gestured to a lady with an icy blonde bob. She gave you a warm smile and shook your hand.

“You can call me Nat.” She said kindly. You smiled for the first time in days. You definitely liked her.

“How do you know Tony?” A different man asked. You also recognized him from the news. He was Tony’s right hand man, Rhodey.

“He made me my suit. And he knew my boyfriend. Neither of them came home last week and I didn’t know where else to go. All my friends disappeared.” You admitted out loud for the first time. The Avengers looked at each other and sighed.

“What about your family?” Nat asked. You shrugged.

“My family disappeared long before any of this happened.” You told them.

“Mine too.” Came a deep, brooding voice. The man in the corner stood up and made his way to you. You tried to ignore the surprised faces the rest of the Avengers made at his movement. The man was huge and you felt yourself tremble. He reached out a hand towards you and you flinched, but he gently rested it on your shoulder.

“I lost my family too. But not by the snap. Who did you lose?” The man said sadly. He had a mixture of anger and sympathy in his two different colored eyes.

“My sister.” You answered him. “And you?” He gave you a sad smile.

“My brother, Loki. And my parents.” He told you. You relaxed under his touch.

“Me too.” You said, almost excitedly. You had never met another orphan in your life. You weren’t sure why you were telling this stranger all your personal information but something about him made you feel protected and safe.

“I like this one.” He announced to the group. Murmurs of approval rang through the crowd. You felt your cheeks heat up. The man turned back to you.

“Its a pleasure, Lady Y/n. I am Thor.” Thor said. You felt dumb for not recognizing him sooner. But his hair was cut and he was in regular clothing. And most of all, he didn’t have a hammer.

“Back up. Why did Tony make you a suit?” Rhodey asked. The rest of the Avengers looked at you with the same question on their minds.

“Well I have, um, had this Symbiote named Venom. She came from Klyntar and lived with me for over a year. I, um, I lost her in the dusting.” You admitted painfully. You had only lost her a week ago but you already felt completely empty without her. To make matters worse, you hadn’t heard a word from Peter. You worried for his safety every second of every day.

“Oh Klyntar? I love that planet. Bunch’a babes over there.” The cocky voice from earlier spoke up. Your eyes landed on where the voice had come from and you screamed.

“Did that raccoon just talk?” You pointed at the raccoon that was fully dressed, armed, and standing on two feet. Well, paws.

“Don’t call me a raccoon! Quill says I’m a trash panda so everybody better call me a trash panda or they’re getting shot.” The raccoon threatened.

“Somebody take Rocket into another room before I barbecue him.” Rhodey sighed. You were shocked at how casual everyone was about the damn talking raccoon named Rocket.

“It was no dusting, Lady Y/n. It was a snap.” Thor told you.

“A snap? What snap?” You asked, very confused.

“Thanos collected all the infinity stones and snapped. That’s why half the population turned to dust.” Nat informed you.

“Thanos? Who the fuck is Thanos?” You asked, suddenly furious since learning the reason your beloved boyfriend and Symbiote vanished.

“Language.” Steve said sternly. You felt your anger melt into embarrassment.

“Sorry. Whom the fuck is Thanos?” You repeated. Steve pinched his nose bridge as snickers spread throughout the group.

“Thanos is a Titan. He’s big and purple and…and that’s about it. Oh, and he just killed half the population.” Rhodey explained. You felt your blood go hot.

“So Thanos killed my best friend? Did he kill Tony too?” You asked, almost terrified of the answer. You were desperate to know about Peters whereabouts, but no one here knew Peter Parker. They knew Spider-Man. And you didn’t want to risk revealing Peters identity.

“We don’t know. He went to space with a few of the others to fight Thanos. We haven’t heard from any of them in a week.” Steve answered, his voice thick with disappointment. “Our only lead is this pager that won’t stop going off. We don’t even know who it’s calling.”

You looked at the pager and saw a star in the middle of a red and blue background. You didn’t know who it was for either.

“Who are the others?” You asked, your heart fluttering hope and anticipation knowing there was potential information about Peter.

“Spider-Man, Dr. Strange, and a couple of the Guardians.” Nat told you. You smiled upon hearing Spider-Man. There was still a chance that he was out there.

“Who are the Guardians?” You asked suddenly. Rocket stepped forward with a smirk. You didn’t know raccoons had the ability to smirk.

“My gang. We’re the frickin’ Guardians of the Galaxy. Quill, Nebula, Gamora, Drax, and the weird one with the antennas. They were all getting their jollies off space while Groot and I did the dirty work. Now Groot is gone and I haven’t heard from any of them. Not since Quill said he was with glowy hands-“

“-Dr. Strange.” Steve corrected.

“Tin man-“ Rocket went on.

“-Tony.” Nat sighed.

“-and little tin man-“ Rocket continued.

“Spider-Man.” Rhodey groaned.

“-on a spaceship. But Quill said they were heading to Thanos’s home planet.” Rocket told you. You heard most of what he said. You were mainly focused on trying to comprehend that a whole ass raccoon was speaking to you.

“Why haven’t any of you gone to that planet to look for them?” You asked. You didn’t want to seem rude but there seemed to be an overlooked opportunity to find everyone.

“Because none of these ding dongs have a spaceship.” Rocket sneered. The Avengers rolled their eyes. You figured the week spent with Rocket was a long one.

“What if I can get you a ship?” You asked. Steve and Nat immediately perked their heads up.

“You can?” Nat asked.

“How?” Steve finished.

“I don’t want to get into detail but the Life Foundation back in San Francisco owes me a few favors after nearly killing me several times. They own a bunch of spaceships. I’m sure I could get you one.” You said. It was true. In exchange for not suing the crap out of the Life Foundation, they offered you an endless debt of gratitude. That debt included a spaceship.

“Call them. Now.” Rhodey demanded. You, as well as Steve and Nat, looked at him.

“Call them now.…please?” Rhodey repeated. You nodded and dialed their number.

After two weeks of aimlessly searching space with Rocket, you found what resembled a gigantic donut.

“That’s the ship. I’m sure of it. Quill’s fat ass said it looked like a donut.” Rocket told you. You nodded as he steered closer. You went because you were in charge of the ship, and Rocket went because he was the only one who had been to space. Nat, Steve, and Rhodey stayed behind and waited for your arrival.

Rocket pulled up next to the ship as you put your suit on. It would protect you since it was made from Venoms skin and she was from space. You slept in your suit most nights, missing her terribly. Rocket gave you something that you didn’t recognize to wear over your face so you could breath. He put it behind your ear and pressed it. An invisible blue mask covered your face and you went outside.

You circled the ship until you found the front. There was a giant window and through it, you saw Mr. Stark fast asleep. You almost didn’t want to wake him, but you figured after 22 days in space, he was ready to come home. You excitedly knocked on the window and waited. Tony jumped and his eyes fluttered open. He caught sight of you and you smiled happily, knowing if he was there, Peter was too. You were also thrilled to see him alive and well after losing every familiar face you knew. Tony unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward, looking at you in disbelief. You pointed to the right, where your ship was. Rocket had extended a bridge so Tony and everyone else could get on. Tony followed your finger and sighed in relief.

Within a few minutes, Tony was on your ship and in your arms. He gave you a tight embrace, much tighter than you thought he would. You were friendly with him, but not that friendly. He pulled away and kissed your forehead in a fatherly manner.

“I missed you Mr. Stark.” You told him. You felt emotional all the sudden. You hadn’t seen him in so long and the past three weeks were traumatizing.

“I missed you too, kid. I missed everyone. And food. I really miss food. You’d think Astronauts were smart enough not to pack their food in little cubes.” Tony joked. 22 days stranded in space and he was still cracking jokes. You smiled warmly at him.

“There’s plenty of food on the ship. We’ll be home soon and you can see everyone then. Rocket, take us home.” You called.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Rocket called back. You looked at him and noticed he was with a blue and purple girl with no hair. She was holding one of his paws.

“That’s Nebula. She was my only companion on my little space-cation.” Tony told you. You felt your heart drop.

“Only companion?” You looked back at him and asked. Tony’s eyes filled with sadness as he nodded.

“I’m sorry. Believe me, losing him was the worst part of all of this. I did everything I could to stop Thanos.” Tony apologized. You pulled him into another hug. You cried onto his shoulder and he cried onto yours.

“No tears on my ship! I don’t want you sissies making the floor all slippery.” Rocket sneered. Your wiped your nose on the back of your hand.

“This is my ship.” You answered. Nebula looked at you with amusement and you gave her a shy smile.

“I lost Venom.” You told Tony sadly. Tony rubbed your arm.

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m so sorry. Is Pepper-“

“Pepper’s alright. She’s waiting back at the tower with everyone else.” You told Tony. His tired eyes filled with relief. You finally noticed how skinny he was and how fragile he looked.

“This will probably take a few hours. Why don’t you eat something and sleep? There’s a bed right through there.” You pointed down a corridor and Tony thanked you wordlessly. You went over and sat with Nebula and Rocket once Tony had fallen asleep. They were in the middle of a conversation about who didn’t make it back.

“What about Gamora?” Rocket asked. He sounded hurt. You had only ever heard him sound cocky, annoyed, sarcastic, or angry. Never hurt. Your heart went out to him.

“My father killed her for the Soul Stone.” Nebula answered. Her voice was monotone and metallic. You looked up at her sadly and put a hand on her arm.

“I’m sorry about your sister. My sister is dead too.” You spoke up. Nebula looked at you with her jet black eyes.

“I am sorry to hear that.” She said robotically. You could tell she wasn’t human. Mostly machinery. You gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you. Is your father still alive?” You asked her. Nebula turned away.

“Unfortunately.” She said while looking ahead.

“Unfortunately?” You questioned.

“Her father is Thanos.” Rocket said as if it were obvious. You retracted yourself from Nebula. You felt white hot anger towards the daughter of the man who killed Peter and Venom.

“I hate my father as much as you do. You have no reason to be afraid.” Nebula told you. You immediately felt back and put your hand back on her arm.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged so quickly. I’m just really hurt over losing Venom and my boyfriend.” You said. Nebula nodded in understanding.

“My father is cruel. But he isn’t infallible. He had brought me great pain. I won’t rest until I make him pay for his crimes.” Nebula said assuredly. You nodded in agreement.

“As you should. Girl power.” You said extending your fist to her to bump.

“What is “girl power”?” Nebula stared at your fist in confusion. With your other hand, you picked up her arm and molded her fingers into a fist. You carefully pressed yours against hers.

“Girl power is the power all girls have inside them that allows them to do incredible things. And that was a fist bump.” You explained to her. Rocket groaned loudly.

“This is painful. Truly painful.” Rocket uttered. You shushed him.

“What does it mean? Does this make us friends?” Nebula asked as she examined her fist. The word sounded foreign to her. You smiled widely.

“Friends? Pshh. I’ll do you one better. We’re sisters.” You stated. Nebula smiled at you for the first time.

“Ohh gross. You got smurfette to smile. What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Rocket whined. You shrugged and scooted closer to Nebula. You talked for the rest of the flight home.

You watched from a distance as Tony reunited with Pepper, Steve, Nat, a man you hadn’t met in glasses, and a woman you also hadn’t met. The woman came up to you after greeting Tony. She wore a blue and red suit and had shoulder length blonde hair. You recognized the star on her suit as the one on the pager.

“Nice to see another girl around here. My name is Carol.” The woman introduced. You were a little taken aback by her sheer confidence and authority. She was beautiful, no doubt, but that was the least interesting thing about her. You shook her hand and were a little shocked by how strong she was. She was almost glowing in the moonlight.

“Hello Carol. We are…um, I am Y/n.” You corrected yourself before you told her you were Venom. You had gotten so used to saying that and it felt strange to go back to just Y/n.

“Y/n? Are you sure about that?” Carol teased you. She obviously heard the hesitation in your voice when you said your name. You laughed in embarrassment.

“I’m sure. I used to to go by a different name is all.” You explained. Carol nodded in understanding.

“So did I. I was Vers for a long time. If you call me that now though, I’ll burn your hand off.” Carol laughed, only you had a feeling she wasn’t kidding. You laughed awkwardly and walked back with her to join the group.

Within another week, you had gotten to know everyone. Nebula and Nat became like your sisters. Tony and Steve were like the dads and Rhodey and Carol felt like your aunt and uncle. And Thor, Thor felt like a friendly golden retriever. You learned that the man you didn’t recognize the day you came back from space was named Bruce Banner. He didn’t talk much but when he did, you could tell he was highly educated.

The week came with hardships as well. Everyone had gotten into a fight over the next step to take with Thanos. A few of the Avengers has gone to find him and the Infinity Stones, but came back empty handed. You felt yourself losing hope in seeing Peter again. More fights broke out and everyone eventually went their separate ways. You hadn’t left Avengers tower since you came back from space and didn’t plan too. It’s not like you had anything to go back too. Nat had moved into the tower and asked you if you wanted to stay as well. And so, you packed up your apartment and moved in with Nat.

Steve, Rhodey, Carol, and Rocket checked in every now and then. You hadn’t heard anything from Tony or Bruce in a long time. Nat told you stories of a man, Clint, who was also an Avenger. You didn’t recognize the name but from the way she described him, he was important. To her, at least.

“Why don’t you just ask the man out already?” You giggled. It was two years later. Nat was telling you yet another story of her and Clint’s adventures in Budapest while you watched a movie on the couch. It was one of those relaxing, make up free nights with Nat.

“It’s not like that. He’s my best friend. I’d die for him but I wouldn’t date him. Plus, he has a wife and kids.” Nat shrugged. You rolled your eyes.

“That’s what they all say. You think I wasn’t calling my boyfriend my “best friend” before we started dating?” You teased. Nat chewed on her straw and laughed as well.

“Speaking of dating, when are you getting back out there?” Nat nudged you. You suddenly felt uncomfortable with the topic.

“I have a boyfriend.” You said simply. And you did. He was just in a million pieces and floating around space.

“You had a boyfriend. I know it hurts but it’s been two years, Y/n. We all lost people and it sucks but now we have to move on. And I think it’s time you move on, Y/n. You are way too beautiful to be sitting on the couch with me every Friday night. You need to go out and get some, girl.” Nat said playfully. She meant well but her words hurt you. You couldn’t imagine moving on from Peter. Where would you go? Who could possible replace him?

“I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me moving on.” You kept it short and sweet. You really didn’t want to push the subject any further.

“Damn. I’ve known you two years and you still won’t tell me his name.” Nat changed the subject, noticing your reluctance to discuss dating. You felt a pain in your heart at the topic and looked down at your hands. You busied yourself by playing with the ties of Peters sweatshirt that you slept in every night.

“You know it’s too painful to say his name.” You said quietly. It wasn’t a total lie. You had talked about Peter with her before. You just never actually told her his name. Everyone knew Peter Parker worked for Stark Industries. You swore you’d never let his identity slip. It was the least you could do for him while he was away. That was another thing. No matter how long he was gone, and it had been two years at that point, you’d never believe he was gone for good. You held on to hope that he was still out there, clawing his way back to you. In your mind, he was still your boyfriend, no matter what.

“I know, sweetheart. But you’ve told me everything else about him. Why not just say his name, just this once?” Nat said softly. You looked up at her with tears in your eyes.

“I can’t. I can’t bring myself to say it when I know his head won’t perk up when I do.” You said in a strained voice. “He won’t answer if I call his name. I can’t deal with that. I can’t handle the thought of him not being there to hear it. I don’t want to say his name until I can say it to him.” You confessed. Nat took your hand in hers. You studied her features. Her hair was significantly longer. Red roots faded into her bleached tips. Her face was one you had come to recognize as family.

“I understand that. But it’s been two years. It might be time to accept that they aren’t coming back.” Nat said softly, not wanting to upset you further. She wiped your tears with her thumb and pulled you into a hug. You rested your head over her heartbeat. It reminded you of when you’d fall asleep to the sound of Peters beating heart.

“Peter. His name was Peter.” You whispered.

Tag List 🏷

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[elysiumwaits]

Hey! Nos. 1, 5 and 13 for Sterek, for the OTP questions, please. Thanks.😊

Ah, my enabler! Lol, thanks so much for the ask! This is nice to do while I feel very poorly. It’s a good distraction, and I appreciate that! I am writing on my phone, so please ignore any weird autocorrects that pop up.

1. Who pulls the other closer while sleeping?

Derek, 100%. 

He doesn’t at first, though. Not until he’s comfortable with Stiles - in the beginning, he often doesn’t actually sleep when Stiles sleeps in his bed, because it’s all too much, and too new, and he doesn’t want to miss a single moment because he’s sure that someday he’ll lose this too.

So one night, after they’ve nearly died for like the thousandth time and figured everything out at the last second, and Scott’s sent the pack home to be exhausted in their various homes and beds, Stiles follows Derek home.

Derek’s confused at first, because Stiles usually likes to go curl up in a blanket burrito and watch as many Marvel movies as he can to make the fear and anxiety go away enough that he can fall asleep. But then, when exhausted, pale, wan Stiles quietly asks Derek if he can just go home with Derek tonight, please, and pick up his Jeep in the morning, Derek is a strange mix of pleased and concerned and overwhelmed. 

Anyway. They don’t get frisky, or anything. Stiles manages to stay awake through a quick shower, and then crawls into Derek’s bed in Derek’s t-shirt. Derek showers, then, and when he comes out, there is Stiles, fast asleep curled around a pillow. So Derek climbs in behind him and settles, just close enough to feel the heat of Stiles’ body but not actually touch, and then Stiles shifts and says, sleepily, “I’anna be the lil spoon. Please.”

And Derek has never, ever been able to refuse Stiles anything that he can give, so he tugs Stiles close. 

He sleeps better than he has in a long time, and now he doesn’t stay apart.

5. How do they hype one another up?

I’mma be honest, I had to google what “hype” meant in this context because I’m old. I’m guessing it’s like pumping someone up to do something? Psyching them up? Anyway, that’s what I’m going with. I’m not hip with the kids.

So, as you can imagine, Stiles is good at hyping literally anything or anyone up. He’s got the energy, and even if he’s just talking nonsense about whatever Derek’s doing, it’s a little contagious. Stiles doesn’t have to hype Derek up for like fights or defending Beacon Hills or being a general badass - Derek needs hype for mundane interactions, like calling tech support for their spotty wifi, fuck Comcast, or going to like interpack meetings and negotiations with Scott. 

So Stiles will be like “Okay. You got this. You are the baddest bitch here. I mean, you’re not a bitch, obviously, that’s the wrong terminology, but you are, in fact, the baddest, like, motherfucker in at least California. Probably the West Coast, and you could make a good case for the Northeast too. But at least in California, you are... just awesome. So, you’re gonna get on that phone, and you’re gonna very firmly ask for a supervisor, nonstop until they give you one. You are not gonna break this phone? Okay. No ripping the router out of the wall either. Okay, badass werewolf lover of mine?”

Stiles, on the other hand, needs psyching up for the things Derek doesn’t, like fighting and dealing with the supernatural baddies that come their way. It’s getting easier the more he learns about magic and the more he fights - practice makes perfect, he guesses. Derek doesn’t exactly go on long rants about how amazing Stiles is, because all of Stiles’ anxiety here comes from a lot of self-doubt and a fear of the unknown.

Derek hypes Stiles like this: “You are the bravest person I know, and if you think that’s the right direction to go, I trust you. However this goes, I’ve got your back, you’ve got mine, and the pack’s got both of us.”

13. What small quirks do they love about each other?

Here is a list of things that Stiles adores about Derek, and that Stiles considers endearing instead of annoying:

Derek’s default expression is a murder stare, which occasionally makes other people cross the street when they see Derek and Stiles coming. Stiles occasionally manipulates this by telling bad jokes or using bad pick-up lines so Derek will do that fond eyeroll thing and people will find him less frightening. Sometimes, Stiles talks Derek into t-shirts that aren’t dark colors or soft sweaters in the fall and winter, and he looks a lot less threatening then too. He’ll never tell Derek, but he honestly got the idea from a forum about walking giant, mean-looking dogs and putting fun collars or capes on them so that people wouldn’t be as scared.Derek is not as subtle as he thinks with the sniffing the air in public places.When he shaves, he puffs up his cheeks. It’s a habit, and Stiles will frequently walk in the bathroom and poke his cheek to “pop the bubble.”

Here is a list of things that Derek adores about Stiles, and that Derek considers a feature, not a bug.

Stiles has three onesies and has taken to wearing them during pack movie nights and pack gaming tournaments. He has one that is a unicorn, a Deadpool one, and, of course, a wolf one he special ordered from Etsy.

Stiles has no idea about any of his nervous ticks. He can’t hide anything to save his life - Derek can always tell, even without the heartbeat, if something is going on, because Stiles does that thing where he scratches his neck. So even if it’s a half-truth that doesn’t make his heart stutter, Derek knows.When Stiles is distracted with research or homework, he will have half-conversations with Derek - he’ll look Derek in the face and ask a question, and then immediately answer it himself and go back to his research. “What do you think about the Japanese lore on - no wait, that’s the wrong direction, how would a... Well, maybe another... Hm. Thanks, Derek.” And Derek will say something like, “Sure,” and get Stiles something else to keep him going on this hyperfixation research binge he’s got going on.

[littlelonghairedoutlawllho]

Both @rienerose and @fadesinthelight suggested yesterday evening that I could write something Wraiths-related, so I wrote this little thing this morning, set just after Wraiths in February 1918. And I might write another thing later.

(It’s unedited so please ignore any typos and weird word choices. Autocorrect likes to mug me sometimes.)

___________________________________

It is worse the second time, sending his son away. A hundred, thousand times worse. Before, when Antoine first went to the Front, Philippe could tell himself that the war would be over before they all knew it. And each time he returned after leave, Philippe could tell himself that those things happen to other men, to someone else’s sons and not his.

On this cold February morning, standing on the train station platform with Sorelli at his side as they send Antoine back after his convalescence, there is no such comfort in illusions.

And it is only a cold comfort to think that for now he will be behind the lines.

Philippe has become practiced at keeping his face impassive, at willing his eyes to stay dry. It is a skill he taught himself when Raoul was only a boy and over the course of this whole long miserable war he has had too much time to perfect it.

Too much time.

And not enough time, now. Only five minutes until the train is pulling out, carrying Antoine away from them again for who knows how long. And Antoine is a man, so much a man, but he will always be a boy, and Philippe feels the first stirrings of tears behind his eyes and wills them to stay put as he stretches out his hand, and Antoine clasps it, shakes it and nods, but Philippe does not let go, not yet.

“Be good.” He would say be careful, would say keep out of trouble, would say don’t get yourself blown up, would say so many things but they’re all futile, and he cannot control what Antoine will do, what he might have to do, what will happen to him, and the words all dry like dust in his throat.

“I’ll do what I can.” Beneath the words are a thousand promises that catch in Philippe’s heart, and he nods, and swallows, and squeezes Antoine’s hand once more before he drops it, and closes his eyes, the tears still threatening beneath the surface.

For all he knows, this is the last time he will ever see his son.

No. He will not think like that, not now. Later he can dwell on it, when he is alone in his study, with only his cognac as witness. He will give in to such possibilities when his son is still alive and well in front of him.

A low murmur of voices, and he blinks the crowded platform back into view. Beside him Antoine is releasing his mother, kissing her cheek, and Sorelli leans up to return the kiss, and smooths her hand over his lapel, before she gives him one sharp nod and stands back, her hand gentle squeezing Philippe’s arm.

A remarkable woman, his Sorelli. So strong and self-contained though he knows her own tears are there, hidden away. They talked about it last night, when the house was quiet, when Antoine was away with Konstin and could not possibly hear them.

Konstin. He is here, too. Balanced on his cane, standing between his mother and Raoul. And Antoine leans down and hugs Christine, and then shakes Raoul’s hand, and Raoul smiles and murmurs something that Philippe can’t hear beneath the thrumming of his heart, but it doesn’t matter and draws a breath to ease his racing pulse, Sorelli squeezing his arm to steady him.

And then Antoine stands before Konstin, and seems to hesitate.

Philippe is a man of the world. His youth was not exactly spotless. He has always lived by two rules: discretion is the better part of valour, and a little selective blindness goes a long way. And he has applied those rules to his sons just as to everything else.

That’s why he sees it when Antoine leans in as if he would hug Konstin, but instead grasps Konstin’s offered hand.

And then Philippe averts his gaze down to meet Sorelli’s, and she nods, and leans into him.

He knows a great deal more than Antoine would have him, but he knows too that somethings are best left unsaid.

Then the train whistle blows, a piercing shriek, and Antoine is beside them again, giving Sorelli one last quick hug, and then he wraps his arms around Philippe and catches him off-guard.

His voice is rough as he murmurs, “I promise I’ll be back.” And Philippe only has time to nod and squeeze his arm before he’s gone, pulled away, climbing into the train.

He’ll be back. He will be back. He has to be.

But Philippe closes his eyes, and keeps them closed even as the train whistle shrieks again, and he hears it as it chugs out of the station, the great long stretch of it, pulling so many men and boys away and he would be an old fool to think they could all come back but so long as Antoine does, he will be satisfied.

So long as Antoine does.

When he opens his eyes again, the platform is empty, Sorelli still warm at his side, and he leans into her, feeling suddenly so old, so tired.

“Come on,” she murmurs. “Let’s go home.”

Home is the only place he wants to be right now.

[rfsak2]

Cactus; A Conversation

This is almost 100% dialogue so it should be a quick read. This is set during Summer 2016 when Harry was filming.

Enjoy!

Cactus; A Conversation Summary: Communication. The Styles Warnings: None.

Hey… what are you doing?

…

Are you ignoring me?

…

Fuck, I forgot about the time difference.

So sorry, love.

Okay, it’s 5 here, so it’s 8am in LA. What are you doing?

…

Hello?

...

Mother Fucker

Sorry Siri decided I needed to use Talk to Text. I’m actually impressed that didn’t autocorrect.

Must use it too much. Naughty.

:P ha

Did you need something?

Just wanted to talk, love. What are you up to?

Honey Child.

Sweet, sweet Honey Child.

You were sleeping, weren’t you?

Very much so. Can I text you back at a more reasonable hour?

It’s 8am, love?

Bitch, and?

Lol

Okay, I’m awake. What did you want to talk about, cariño?

What does cariño mean?

Sweetheart. Now what’s up, buttercup?

…

Had my first day of filming today.

Yeah? How’d it go?

Cold, wet… foamy.

Yuck. Did you have fun though?

… I guess?

So no then. What happened?

Nothing.

I think that may have been the problem, you know?

We literally sat on the beach for hours in wet wool.

Yeah… Don’t know if I’d enjoy that either.

Actually, know I wouldn’t. Hate getting wet.

…

God I have a joke for you, but I respect you and won’t make it.

Good choice. I’ve only had a cup of tea. I need at least two to adequately respond to dirty jokes.

Lol… Noted.

So you’re not feeling this filming business then?

…

It’s only day one.

But it’ll get better.

I hope.

It will.

But hey… you’re doing something that you’ve never done before.

There’s no shame in trying something and deciding it’s not really your gig.

Yeah. You’re right.

Thank you.

Anytime, pretty boy.

… well anytime in between standard business hours PST. Your homegirl gotta sleep.

:) I’ll keep that in mind, lovely. Have a good day.

**

Knock Knock.

:)

Who’s there?

A cow goes.

Heyyy… That’s one of mine.

Yeah… I know. There’s a compilation video of your jokes on youtube.

…

Yeah…

There’s also one of you grabbing your crotch.

Well more than one.

Seriously. And you have the gall to call me naughty.

It’s part of the song…

Yeah uh-huh.

What are you doing? Looking me up on youtube, love?

Don’t change the subject. We’re talking about you and your crotch-grabbing.

At least, it’s my crotch and not someone else’s…

More than can be said about Trump.

Ugh… don’t get me started.

I hope he chokes on like… goldschlager. Or segues off a cliff.

Do people actually drink goldschlager? I thought it was something you bought and kept on a shelf so you look cool.

Might as well. Tastes like shit in my personal opinion.

You’ve had it then, love?

Yeah my uncle bought it once. I think it’s still sitting on his liquor shelf.

How’s filming going now? Better?

Yeah...

We’re still on the beach.

Still sitting?

No now we’re swimming.

Yuck.

You want to know what else is yuck?

What else, love?

Apparently you know a lot of women who spit.

Jamie Schwartz. You are a very mean woman.

Boo hoo, Baby Boo.

**

What are your opinions on platypi?

…

Hmm… I don’t know if Brits did this in school, but we did these silly story prompts, where you had to fill in the blanks and then you’d read it and it’d make a silly story.

Yeah. Okay.

Platypi are like that.

Someone just filled in the blanks with random shit.

So platypi are silly stories?

Rather poetic wouldn’t you say?

What brought this on?

At the pub with the lads.

So you’re drunk.

I’ve had one pint. Thank you very much.

Libby, our first camera, she’s from LA...technically she’s from OC… anyways, you’d like her.

She said platypi are her favorite animal. Just wanted to know what you thought about platypi.

Aw… cariño, you’re tipsy and thinking about me. That’s sweet.

Don’t be rude, love.

No really, it’s very sweet.

Who’re you?

I don’t know. Who’s this?

Name’s Barry. Are you male or female? Jamie could be either, y’know.

Thought you didn’t know who I was. Also does it matter?

…

No… Not necessarily.

Nvm I googled you.

You���re very pretty. Exactly the kinda girl I’d imagine for dear Harold. Hella cool tattoos.

Well thank you. I guess.

Sorry he’s rude. Hope he didn’t say anything too shocking.

Nope… Not at all. Who’s this?

Tom. Are you Harry’s girlfriend?

Nope… Where is Harry?

He went to the toilet. Oh look he’s back!

…

Sorry!

What did they say tyo?

Nothing… just wanted to know who I was.

Teach you to leave your phone unattended.

Jesus, love… They gave me a bloody heart attack.

**

“Hello?”

“Hello, love.”

She smiled. “Hey Haz. What time is it there?”

“Late…”

“Are you okay, Hazza?”

He sighed and she sipped at her tea. “I just…”

“Hey, what is it? Seriously.”

“I get lonely… sometimes and I feel like I can… talk to yeh.”

“You can.” She leaned back against her couch. “You always can. What did you do today?”

He sighed again, this time the sound was less tense. “We filmed some more out on the lake. It’s amazin’ how long it takes to film one scene. We can work on it all week and still have to do reshoots.”

“Oh god.. That must be frustrating.”

“Yeah… What are yeh workin’ on?”

She smiled. “I’ve been asked to help with a couple of songs on John Mayer’s album and a new artist, Rag’N’Bone Man?”

“Yeah, I know him… Well I don’t know him but I’ve heard of him.”

“They need someone to fill in some blues guitar.”

“That’s excellent. He was pretty big in the UK before he signed on with Columbia. That must be excitin’.”

“Yeah he’s a cool dude.”

“Are yeh excited to work with him?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I mean. It’s different then what I normally do, but it’s interesting.”

“Have yeh thought about Jamaica at all?”

“I have…”

“And?”

“I’m honestly not sure why you want me there… You have Mitch... don’t really need me.” He tried to interrupt. “But if you want me there, then I’ll be there.”

“I want yeh there for the same reasons John Mayer and Rag’N’Bone and all them want yeh to work on their albums. Yer a fantastic guitarist, love.”

She blushed. “Yeah… well if you want me there, I’ll be there.”

“Good.” He chuckled. “I also think yer a cool person and I want t’be able to- yawn -get t’know yeh better.”

She smiled. “I think it might be bedtime for you, cariño. What time d’ya have to be up in the morning?”

“I’ll probably get up at six and go fer a run. Call is at 9.”

“Ooh… fun.”

**

So I’ll be in London for a week maybe two next month. If y’all are still in London, you wanna hang one night?

Of course! We’ll be in town all next month I think. When are you coming?

As of right now, it’s the 15th through the 22nd, but it rarely ever goes that quickly. Probably will be through the end of the month.

Do you wanna stay at mine?

Oh that’s not necessary… I make Columbia a lot of money and in return they spend some on me when they need me to travel.

They fly me out first class too. Oh la la

Very posh. Seriously though. My house is better than any hotel.

I’m sure it is, but I don't want to be in the way. You have to be exhausted.

Wouldn’t be in the way. We could hang out and I can show you around the parts of London you haven’t seen yet.

Seriously, though. You know you’ll be more comfortable in my house than in a hotel.

It’s a very nice hotel though.

And I live in a very nice house.

What studio will you be in?

Somewhere out in North London I think. Never been there before.

Well that’s just perfect. I live in North London.

…

Are you uncomfortable, love? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

No its just… I don’t want to invade your space.

You wouldn’t be, love… or rather I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you too. I hate rattling around by myself in my big empty house. Come share my space with me.

Please?

Pleeease?

If you’re sure…

This won’t be weird or anything?

I am sure and no, it won’t be weird.

Okay…

What?

I have a question for you.

Shoot.

How do you live like this…

Wait that sounded more rude than I meant for it to.

How do people not take advantage of you? How are you still so kind?

…

They did.

A lot at first and occasionally, people still try to.

But I like to think that I’m better at reading people now.

Are you planning on taking advantage of me?

Of course not.

I want to wrap you up in bubble wrap and protect you from everything.

I just got really worried about you for a second. I’m fine now.

**

We’re in LA on Wednesday. Wanna hang?

Sure! Whadya got in mind?

Wanna go watch a movie?

How bout you just come to mine? I can cook for you. A thank you for putting me up last month.

You don’t need to thank me, love.

Sure I do. Don’t bother arguing with me.

Yes ma’am.

**

Knock Knock

She wiped her hands on her jeans, suddenly nervous. She shouldn’t be, honestly. She’d been in almost constant contact with Harry all summer and then there was the two week stay in London. She shouldn’t be nervous.

But she was.

Opening the door, she smiled.

“Hi.”

He grinned back. “Hi.”

Part XVIII Up Next: Part XIX

[concerningly-murder-y]

Campe Fuckng Diem - part 1

It was nighttime at Camp Campbell, the sky a cool shade of blue sprinkled lightly with stars, David walked past the Mess Hall, a lantern illuminating his path. He sighed happily. "Another wonderful day at Camp Camp, and some new campers! All that's left to do now is recharge with a full eight hours of lying in bed... Awake, waiting for tomorrow." He reflected happily, speaking to no one. As David continued on he remained oblivious to Max, Neil and Nikki sneaking through the night to the docks - looking like something out of a spy movie. "Alright guys, our- wait, what the fuck?!" Max trailed off as he noticed another's presence by the lake, Avis was standing by the lake, dragging a stick through the mud in the shape of a skull. Her black shirt had been traded for the Camp Campbell yellow shirt but she had painted over the ordinary shirt with red paint to make a pentagram that looked like it was made from blood, some paint trailing down the shirt a little. She noticed them finally and waved lazily, Neil and Max stood confused and slightly put out while Nikki jumped to her drawing excitedly. "Hey Avis! Are you escaping camp too? (Max face palmed as Nikki gave away their plan and Avis raised an eyebrow) No? Oh! Are we doing a ritual? I can go get a sacrifice!" She growled predatorily, baring her teeth and crouching readily. "Nikki, no." Max scolded, he was cut off from elaborating as Avis spoke at the same time, "yes." She caught the looks the boys were giving her and hurriedly corrected herself. "I meant no, stupid autocorrect." Max heaved a frustrated sigh, "look, we're trying to escape. You want to come or not?" "Sure." Avis shrugged and Nikki grinned. "Now, our first attempt to bust out of this godforsaken hellhole didn't work. But tonight's gonna be different. 'Cause we have a secret weapon." He informed smugly, turning to the docks. "Billy Nixil." He narrated as a chubby, short boy with dark hair and skin emerged from the shadows spookily, a candy cane clenched in his mouth. "Call me Snake." He ordered in a gravelly voice that was in no way a rip off of every movie tough guy ever. "He's ex-Wood scouts. And he's one of the best." Max proudly boasted, "isn't that right Billy?" He prompted, Billy - or 'Snake' - chewed his candy cane sullenly. "Got my search and rescue badge in two weeks, got my water survival in one." He informed. Nikki praised him eagerly, "that's amazing!" "I never had a choice." Oh, and there's the cliche movie line. "The Wood Scouts are some of the most intense militant campers on Lake Lilac. Billy here escaped." Max said. "Then why is he helping us?" Neil asked suspiciously. "I'm not doing this for you. I made a vow." He placed a hand on his hip, seriously, where did they get this kid? Awkward silence followed Terminator reincarnated's confession, crickets chirping as the four looked at each other unsurely. His eyes then finally drifted over to Avis, having failed to notice her due to her clothes blending in with the dark night. "Hey! It's you!" "You know Avis?" Neil questioned nervously. "Yeah. Tried to join the Wood Scouts even though she's a girl!" He took an aggressive tone, pointing at her accusingly, Avis bristled angrily and burst out in a loud, frustrated whisper. "I didn't want to join your stupid fucking camp! You fucktards literally thought I was a boy!" She hissed, clenching her fists at her side, leaning towards him angrily. "Well okay, let's get in the boat!" Neil offered awkwardly, trying to diffuse the palpable tensions created from the stand off.

They sailed across the waters, discussing calmly what they were going to do once they left. "What about you Avis?" Neil asked and Nikki turned to her patiently. "I'll probably sacrifice something to Satan, get caught and sent to prison. Maybe I'll break out a bunch of people and start a riot." She hummed thoughtfully. Neil rubbed his arm awkwardly while Nikki nodded in approval, "how about you Max?" She asked, asking again confusedly as he didn't look away from the misty lake. "Max?" "Billy. Where are you taking us?" He probed suspiciously. "Shortcut." Snake replied shortly. Max surveyed the lake warily, looking down to see the waves lapping at a branding on the side of the boat stamped 'property of: the Woodscouts'. Max gasped but before he could do anything else Snake lunged at him and sliced him wildly with a knife prompting Neil to scream out cowardly and scrambled to the end of the boat pushing Avis' legs up. "Jesus Christ!" Snake turned to growl at them angrily before seizing Nikki and holding her high above his head, "Yo! What gives?!" "No girls allowed!" He yelled, tossing her into the water. "Nikki!" Neil screamed, reaching out to her, Avis stood up with her arms outstretched, "take me!" She yelled dramatically but Snake ignored her. "All boys stay! No exceptions!" He ordered and Avis glowered angrily, opening her mouth to retort which distracted him for Max getting up behind him. Max tackled Snake with a grunt forcing him to the ground, "Neil quick grab his-!" Max yelled, turning back to see an empty boat, catching one last glimpse of Avis jumping into the water, embracing her fate. "Oh shit." Were the last words Avis heard as she plunged into the cold water, submerging herself.

~~~~

Back at camp the sun had risen to illuminate a new day, Marina was walking through the camp, she quickened her stride when she noticed David up ahead. "Well good morning camper!" He cheerily flashed a blinding grin - literally, she had to shield her eyes as the morning sun reflected on his pearly whites. "It really isn't." She grumbled, David squatted down to her level, "what can I do for you today?" He offered, overly welcoming attitude throwing her off so she glared at him disdainfully, how dare he be happy in her presence? Avis would have made a comment either threatening him or - following her line of thought- muttering 'the audacity!' In an offended tone under her breath, but that was what brought her here. She had been looking for Avis and had gone to the lake, thinking she would be drawing pentagrams in the sand when she saw something on the water that made her turn on her heel and march right up to David. "You guys have a camp for pirate ships?!" David furrowed his brow at her question before he realised, "you must mean Pirate Camp! It's another camp on Lake Lilac!" He informed her with detestable enthusiasm. "There are other camps?" "Well sure!" He endeared her, turning around and closing his eyes as he walked away, recounting a list with the air of a tourism guide, one arm behind his back, the other in the air knowledgeably. "There's the Woodscouts, military campers. Pirate Camp, they train you on how to be a pirate and the Flowerscouts, they are most known for being ladylike and their cookies!-" "Cookies?!" "That's ri-" David had turned around and opened his eyes again to inform Marina more when he stopped talking as he noticed she was nowhere to be seen.

When Avis came to she was lying on a sandy bank, the water lapped to her waist causing her to jump up with a comical start. "FUCK! That's cold!" She scrambled to the side and kicked her foot out spastically to fling off water. She hopped backwards to stop beside Nikki and Neil who she hadn't noticed until now. "Hey Nikki. Hey female swamp monster." She commented, acknowledging Neil's weird accessory of seaweed adorning his head. "Where are we?" She turned to Nikki who seemed the most alert. "Where happiness comes to die." Nikki hissed at her and Neil, they turned as an annoying voice suddenly called out. "Oh. My. God. Is that... Nikki?" A preppy looking blonde drawled, standing next to a tall cheerleader with red hair and another model with brown skin and blue hair that shielded one eye. "Hey guys." Nikki spoke nervously, dropping Neil. "Ew. Who is that?" The brown girl spoke disgustedly, the red head addressed her posse with a bratty air, "Tabbii, Erin please. A Flower scout always welcomes others with daintiness and respect." Her grating voice chastised. "Flower scouts?" Neil and Avis echoed. They suddenly noticed a beautiful area over the hill behind the girls, seemingly glowing and sparkling magically, it looked like something out of a Barbie movie. A camp full of pink houses and cabins with yellow pavement and bright green grass was shining in the morning sun, sparkles reflecting of the freshly polished roads. "Nikki... You were a Flower Scout?" Neil questioned surprised while Avis hunched away from the light, hissing like a vampire at the sparkles and pink. "Ugh, yeah... But they were totally boring so I bailed." Nikki grumbled. The first girl fake coughed to regain their attention and they all curtsied in unison. "It's sooo good to see you again Nikki. And-" "Ne-" "ancy!" Nikki cut Neil off, jumping on him and covering his mouth. "Neeancy?" "Yes! It's- uh, spelled really dumb, it's french." Nikki excused. "Ooh, France." Erin drawled before the leader glared at Avis darkly. "Your... Friend here, is not welcome. Boys aren't allowed." Avis spluttered in anger, crouching and pulling at her beanie in a frustrated gesture she hissed, "I am not a boy!" Angrily. "Oh! Are you sure?" The girl continued, suspicious. Avis let out a frustrated groan and took a threatening step forward. "I. Am. A. Girl! My name is Avis!" "That sounds like a boys name!" Tabbii whined, "my name is Tabbii. With two 'I's." "Congratu-fucking-lations." Avis grumbled. "Come on Neeancy, our morning activities are starting!" The head girl cheered and they swung around gracefully, pausing to look over their shoulders disdainfully. "You can come too Nikki, and, uh, 'girl'." She lengthened the word skeptically, eyes narrowed. "Man, we really lucked out." Neil commented happily, Nikki let out a feral growl of frustration and followed the others. "Hey, you think Max is okay?" Neil asked offhandedly as Avis glowered. She trudged down the hill and they passed a small building labeled 'storage'. "Oh, that's where we keep our cookies." The red head waved as she saw Avis looking, from inside Avis could vaguely hear muffled noises and as the others continued along she stopped and ducked out of sight. Detaching from the group and pressing herself against the wall of the cookie storage shed sneakily. She opened the door slowly as it creaked ominously, a pillar of light illuminating the room slowly like in a dramatic movie scene, a hunched mass was in the corner, shrouded in shadows making sounds of eating, chewing and crunching ferociously. More light was shed on the quivering mass until it unfurled and Avis could see- "Marina?" Said girl stiffened and turned around sheepishly, blushing at being caught red handed. She was hugging a cookie box possessively, dressed in a Girl Scouts uniform she had a few crumbs over her bulging cheeks which were stuffed with cookies making her resemble a chipmunk. Marina's eyes guiltily darted to the side briefly and Avis followed her gaze to see a pretty looking girl tied up with so much rope Avis wondered briefly if she could breath and if she was naked underneath given Marina had probably stolen her uniform. They both stared at each other for a prolonged period of time, the awkward silence deafening until Avis shut the door behind her and sat down beside Marina. She grabbed a nearby box and yanked a dagger from her boot to stab and slice the box open, smiling warmly at Marina who blushed and smiled back, swallowing her cookies before shovelling more in her mouth. The girl tied up groaned and blinked groggily, waking up, she spotted Avis and recoiled, "ew! A boy-" Avis had gotten up, in a fighting stance but before she could use her dagger that was still clenched in her palm the girl was cut off as Marina shoved a sock into her mouth unceremoniously and gave Avis a wink.

A couple hours later Marina and Avis had finally sated themselves and were exiting the room with their arms heaped with boxes, above they saw an eagle flying regally across the sky, Nikki and Neil  hanging on to its claws. "Hey, isn't that Avis and Marina?" Nikki commented, pointing down at the two. Marina was sitting on top of a mound of cookie boxes like a queen on a throne and she waved brightly up at them while Avis squinted confusedly.

I don't know how to link it but there is a prologue to this you need to read, this is obviously a fic with my two OC’s.

@@bluestripedshirt@mamazooey​

[7fics]

Markson friendship jackjae Romance. Jackson doesn't really know YJ but he knows he's kinda weird but still kinda cute and he sits next to Jackson in science so Jackson texts Mark and says "the Youngjae kid is cute tbh" and Mark being a dick takes a screenshot of their messages and sends it to Youngjae, who is still sitting next to Jackson.

Warnings: mark pov lol

Word Count: 2.5k ish

Author: Chewy’s back! and graduating high school oh my god

managed to sneak some markbum in there lol whoops hope ya enjojojoiiiii

grades: JB: senior Jinyoung: senior (skipped a grade) Jackson: junior Mark: junior (redoing a grade) Youngjae: sophomore Yugyeom/bambam: freshmen

“Bro, you hype? First day of school jitters? Whatchu gonna eat for breakfast?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jackson, why are you calling me at 6 in the morning,” Mark groans. It’s too early for this shit. It’s always too early for Jackson’s shit, but “That’s just the impact of the Wang” or so “the Wang” says.

“It’s the first day of school! You should be up and getting ready, don’t you want to start off the school year refreshed and excited?” Mark can practically hear Jackson jumping up and down through the phone. Oh, wait, is that the sound of springs squeaking? Then never mind, Mark can legitimately hear Jackson jumping up and down.

“More like dead tired. School doesn’t start until nine.”

“Whatever. Have you looked at your schedule yet? Did you see what classes you had? Do we share any classes?” Jackson’s talking non-stop, and from the sound of it he’s also trying to chew his breakfast at the same time. Mark’s not really into that ASMR shit.

“I already sent you a screenshot last night, keep up,” he responds, groaning as he finally crawls out of bed. With Jackson this hyped up, he knows there’s no chance of falling back asleep so he might as well get ready. “We have a few classes together, I think. Check again?”

“Oh, right!” there’s a pause as Jackson scrambles to his laptop, and Mark thanks the gods above for the short moment of blessed silence. “We have the same lunch period! And Humanities and Numbers for Nerds, thank goodness. You’re going to need to tutor me again.”

“No.” Not until you stop calling “math” “Numbers for Nerds,” Mark thinks. It’s too early to voice opinions, though, so he keeps that to himself.

“And Euro, yass, this is nearly fully booked Markson, get pumped! But wait, aw man, no science together. Why would you ever take Physics? And it’s first in the morning, too!” Jackson continues.

“God bless,” Mark’s not sure if he would have been able to handle Jackson so early every morning. Especially not after the copper incident last year. “Now I’m hanging up, gotta shower. See you at school.”

“Bye~~~ Markie pooh,” Jackson calls, but by then, Mark’s already ended the call.

—

“Jaebum, please,” Mark says the minute he enters the Physics classroom that morning. “Save me.”

“Babe, what’s wrong? It’s only the first day of school,” Jaebum grumbles, barely lifting his head from his desk to greet Mark.

“Exactly. However,” Mark says, handing his phone over to Jaebum. “Some asshole thinks that I should care about his choice in sock color today.” There are somewhere around, oh, just about hundreds of new text messages, voicemails and snapchats from Jackson, updating Mark on the every second of his first day of school prep. And that’s just the preparation; the school day hasn’t even started damn it.

“Aw, yikes. I got a picture of a flowchart of first day of school possibilities from Jinyoung last night. And then earlier this morning he sent me a selfie of himself setting the same flowchart on fire, so I’m not sure what that means.”

“Seriously? It’s only the first day of school why is he stressing like it’s finals week again,” Mark groans as he lays his head on the desk. Jaebum only pats him on the back and gives a shrug in response, and Mark is eternally grateful. He decides that now is a great moment (and the only moment) to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet before the madness called “High School” and “Being Wang Jackson’s One and Only BFFL For Life” (“Jackson you repeated for life” “Shhhh”) begins.

Moments later, the beautiful calm is shattered by the sound of Kara blasting through the air. “The fuck Jackson, we’re in class,” Mark says, opting to hit decline. Jackson apparently doesn’t get the message, however, and Mark’s phone spends the rest of class buzzing violently in his backpack.

Mark of course dutifully ignores everything. (At one point, a girl in front of him freaks out because she’s sure there’s a swarm of bees in the classroom. It’s just Jackson, though.)

—

“Hey.” Mark takes his lunch tray, which is literally piled to the sky with only french fries, and slides into the bench between Jackson and Jaebum. He looks down the table and nods at the kid at the end of the table. “‘Sup?” They’re not friends, but the kid sells some fine “herbs” if you know what I’m saying. Imported. From Thailand.

Mark doesn’t drink coffee. He drinks tea. And he’s ready to beat anyone (meaning Jinyoung) who mocks him for it. It’s not like he fucking reads books like some nerds (meaning Jinyoung).

“Hey, Mork, what’s up?”

“Can you not.”

“Nope! Those are a lot of fries buddy, I’m really kind of worried about your health, you know?” Jackson says, reaching over to grab a handful.

“I hope you choke.”

Jackson doesn’t choke, but he does snort and get some caught in his nostril. While Jackson is whining and screaming for help, Mark turns to Jaebum, “Hey.”

“Hey babe,” Jaebum responds. He also takes a french fry, but actually manages to look pretty sexy eating it, so Mark will opt to forgive him this one time.

“Do you think you can get senioritis when you’re a Junior?” Mark asks, shoving the plate of fries to the side so that he can lay his head on the table. And then push the fries directly into his mouth without actually lifting anything.

“Dude. It’s been three days since we got back from summer break,” Jaebum gives him a look, although really, he has no right to judge.

“I didn’t do any of my summer Humanities assignments, so I already have a zero.” Ok, so maybe Jaebum does have some right to judge. But only a little.

“Holy fuck YOU GUYS!” Jackson screams, and then immediately makes a shushing noise, “Shhh! I can’t let him notice me!”

“Jackson. You are the loudest one in this group right now.”

“Ah, sorry, I forgot. But look!” Jackson whisper shouts, vaguely gesturing toward some corner of the cafeteria. “Look at that!”

Mark squints, but isn’t really sure what Jackson’s freaking out over. He doesn’t see any signs for free pizza, or anything remotely worth getting hyped up over.

“That kid! Over there!” Jackson’s voice is steadily rising, but they’re in the middle of a public school cafeteria so Mark decides to not give any fucks for now. “The one that looks absolutely beautiful and basically is probably the Sun on the Teletubbies but all grown up! He’s in my Bio class and I swear you guys, I am in love.”

“Oh hey, that’s Youngjae,” Jaebum remarks.

Hmmm, Youngjae. Mark’s sure he’s heard that name somewhere.

“Remember? He’s the really loud tenor in my choir class. Tried to bring his dog to school last year.”

“Oh yeah. Coco. He’s my neighbor.”

“You know him?” Jackson gasps. He crawls over Mark and grabs Jaebum by the collars. “Please. Tell me more. I must know.”

And so the rest of lunch continues just like any other day, with Mark trying to ignore Jackson and continue eating french fries. It’s a hard task, but nothing that Mark can’t handle.

—

Another week of dozing through classes has passed in a blissful blur, and Mark settles into Physics, pulling out his notebook. He’s just trying to decide whether he should use the book as a pillow or what it’s actually meant for when his phone goes berserk again.

from: wangster

holy sheet mark

do u remember that incredibly cute ball of sunshine underclassman I was talking about

the one that probably farts pixie dust

and is CuTE as bALLS???

YOUNGJAEEEEE god kill me now even his name is lovely

he just got assigned to the same lab group as me

ME

the fuq is this, a fucking rom com??? i M SO READY to NOT embarrass myself infant of this kid

**in front ha fuck u 2 autocorrect

“What is that?” Jinyoung asks, peering over Marks shoulder.

“It’s just Jackson, talking about his new crush. I’m just gonna ignore it,” Mark concludes, setting it on vibrate and then tossing it to the corner of his desk.

“He just texted you again,” Jinyoung says, picking up the phone. “What does he mean by ‘THE THING’?”

“Shit, give me that,” Mark says, suddenly alert and scrambling for the phone.

from: wangster

do you think he’d think i was cool if i did THE THING again?

Mark furiously types.

from: mark

NO!

DO NOT. DRINK. THE COPPER. SOLUTION.

It takes a minute for the reply to come back.

from: wangster

aw cmon man, it wasn’t that bad

and don pretend like u didn’t take a taste too, i’m not the only criminal here

anyway i wasn’t talking about that

like

what if i “accidentally” spilled a chemical on my hot bod

and then i have to rip off my shirt and show off my sexy abs ;)

Mark groans and lays his head upon the desk. “Help. I think I have a migraine coming on.”

“What’s wrong?” Jaebum asks, sliding into his seat with 34 seconds to spare. Mark just holds up his phone in response. Jaebum sighs and formulates a response in Mark’s stead.

from: mark

your abs won’t be sexy anymore with a god damn acid burn on them. don’t do that shit. —JB

Before Jaebum can hand the phone back to Mark, Jinyoung snags it out of his hands. “Oh boy,” he giggles. “This is gold. Do you mind if I screenshot this and airdrop it to myself? Just for when I’m sad, I promise.”

“Go ahead,” Mark waves him on. At this point, he doesn’t think Jackson has any dignity left to muster up. “Just don’t accidentally send it to Youngjae or anything.”

There is a beat of silence, as three pairs of eyes meet. Then they all break, chuckling to themselves. Mark wheezes a little. “Nah, I wouldn’t. I’m not that kind of friend.”

There’s another moment of silence, as Jinyoung takes one long look at the messages, and then back up at Mark, then Jaebum, then back at Mark. “Aren’t you?”

“I mean, we’re best friends, come on,” Mark says. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly sweating in this freezing air conditioned classroom. “Right. Best friends. Who forgive each other no matter what,” Jaebum muses, half to himself. They meet eyes, and then break. Nervous laughter fills the air around them.

“Nah, nah, nah. We’re cool,” Mark says, taking back the phone and going to delete the screenshots. But, Jinyoung is right. This is kind of gold. “Maybe I’ll just start a message to Youngjae, but not actually send it, just to freak Jackson out.”

“Oh yeah!” Jinyoung agrees, aggressively nodding. “Take a screenshot of you you pretending to send those to Youngjae. Jackson would die. And it’s good revenge for him stealing my last twizzler.”

“Alright, I’m doing it,” Mark says. They’re all three cackling at the message, Mark’s hand hovering over the phone, when the teacher walks in and slams the door shut. Hard.

All three students jump in their chairs simultaneously. “Put you phone away!” he demands, and Mark sheepishly pulls his phone off his desk, but not before seeing what’s on the screen.

“Oh shit,” he looks up at Jaebum, wide-eyed.

“You hit send, didn’t you?”

—

Three hours later, Mark finds himself on the floor of the cafeteria, groveling at Jackson’s feet. “It was an accident, I swear, you know I would never do that to you. I would never even think of doing that to you!”

“How. The fuck. Do you accidentally send screenshots of my text messages to the guy who just happens to be the subject of my messages?” Jackson asks. His eyebrows are halfway up his face at this point.

“Ok, fine,” Mark concedes, “Maybe I did think of doing that to you. But I swear I only thought! I never actually meant to hit send. Tell him, Jinyoung!”

Jackson’s menacing eyebrows swivel to face Jinyoung, who currently has his nose buried in a book, with only his ears peeking out. No matter how much of a bookworm everybody says he is, no books are that interesting. “Well?” Jackson asks, leg shaking the table.

“Uhh… It was Mark’s idea!” then he slams his book shut and bolts.

Mark gasps, “That bastard.”

Jackson grabs at Mark’s collar, and as Mark flails, he looks over to Jaebum in an attempt at one last plea for help. Jaebum just raises his eyebrows, and scoots his tray further away down the table.

Just as Mark resigns himself to his fate, he is saved by the bell. More specifically, his text alert, which is actually a four second clip of a recording of Jackson screaming for five minutes straight. Everybody in the whole cafeteria looks over at them, including Youngjae (an important detail for Jackson) and the security guards and other adult staff (an important detail for Mark). “Dude get off of me before we get in trouble,” Mark whispers. Jackson only complies because Youngjae is looking and he can bet 99.999% that Youngjae probably hates violence and sings about flowers growing as a past time.

“Ugh, whatever, I’m still mad. You better buy me chocolate milk for the rest of the school year.”

“What are you, Kim Yugyeom?” Mark scoffs, but knows that he probably will, even if only for a few weeks instead of the whole school year. Anything to get his friend back. Even so, he slaps Jackson’s hands away as they drift toward his tray of fries. While battling Jackson over his lunch with his left hand, Mark unlocks his phone with his left (unnecessary AN: this was supposed to say right, but I was totally zoned out when typing this, and, my dudes, it is so wicked funny to imagine Mark with two left hands). “Oh my god, Jackson!”

“What now?” Jackson grumbles, slipping through Mark’s defenses and filching a fry or two or three or twelve.

“Jackson, look,” Mark gasps breathlessly, handing his phone over to Jackson.

“Holy fuck.”

Right there, on the screen (surrounded by way too many emojis and stickers) are the following words:

from: c youngjae

aww, can you tell jackson hyung thank you for the compliments

and also that i don’t want him hurting himself!! i’m sure he looks better shirtless on the basketball courts than in a science lab *winky face blushing emoji*

oh! also mark hyung, my family is going out of town for labor day, can you watch coco? thanks!

Mark grins, looking up at Jackson’s shining face. “Am I the best wingman ever or what?”

“Yes!” Jackson shouts, drawing looks once again. “But you still owe me chocolate milk for the stress that you put me through for this past hour.”

“Yo, lunch period isn’t even an hour long.”

[silver-soliloquy]

COMC week I don’t even know anymore but here are some Notes

XLIV

o   Edmond, do you…do you know anyone who isn’t connected to this whole revenge nonsense? Have you ever spoken to a single person without a sinister ulterior motive?  You might try it sometime, it’s fun o   That said, Edmond Knows Nothing About This Backstory is always a hilarious game o   So I think this is the first time Edmond’s used two disguises on the same person without being caught, as the Abbe Busoni and the Count?  Mysterious Stranger level-up! o   I also love that all his aliases apparently KNOW each other, half his social circle is actually just himself in different wigs o   Oh, Caderousse.  Yikes.

XLV

o   I have no comments for this chapter except WHAT LADY MACBETH NONSENSE EVEN IS THIS o   “I like ghosts” okay you goth weirdo

XLXI

o   A retreating forehead!!  Edmond, how did you not realize Danglers was evil when you first met him! o   Edmond spying on people from his window with binoculars like a stereotypical suburban housewife on the hunt for gossip is the most amazing image ever, thank you Dumas o   The whole horse theft thing is just SO PETTY. Like I know it’s part of a Scheme, but…sooooo petty. o   The politeness mind games Edmond plays with people is honestly the most enjoyable part of the book so far, why can’t we have less obscure chess mastering and more clever social maneuvering?

XLVII

o   The baroness Danglers is Terrible and kind of hilarious in her utter lack of chill o   I’m not sure which headcanon I like better—Edmond actually spending the timeskip years hanging around theatres and annoying the actors into giving him lessons, or Edmond being super obvious and overacting literally all the time but everyone assumes it’s just part of his ~eccentricity~ and never calls him on it o   He gave the horses diamond earrings.  What the hell, Edmond. o   Okay again, Edmond the shadowy figure pulling the strings of some mysterious grand plan isn’t that interesting of a character to me—Edmond the petty, passive-aggressive verbal sparer using rich people’s own societal convention and etiquette laws against them is FANTASTIC and I am totally rooting for him in those moments

XLVIII

o   Not really sure how much of this Edmond actually believes and how much he’s just saying to weird out Villefort, but what the hell anyways o   Nortier :(((((

XLIX

o   Haydee!!! o   …question, was Greece actually included in ~The East~ from a 19th century French standpoint?  I don’t think I’ve ever heard it lumped in with orientalism before, but Haydee being Greek also seems to make her Turkish and generally ~Eastern~ as far as her wardrobe and interior decor is concerned? o   Haydee definitely needs some friends, but she is awesome regardless

L

o   The Morrels are adorable and I’m really glad they’re doing well o   Watch it Edmond, you’re on the verge of making a friend o   Edmond BLUSHED oh my god let’s keep Julie around always o   Edmond’s identities are getting a little precarious here—if Maximilien ever talked to Franz about the whole Sinbad saving his family thing Franz would be only too happy to tell him that Monte Cristo goes by that name sometimes and “oh uh no there’s TWO Sinbads running around and the one who helped you is my weird English friend who just happens to look a lot like me” would be a pretty flimsy excuse o   But possibly that would require a higher level of friendship than Edmond would expect, especially since he had no reason to expect Max’s social circle to overlap with his enemies’ kids’ o   I would laugh so hard if all his castle of lies collapsed from a couple friends chatting though, oh my god o   WAIT A SECOND, didn’t Albert talk about Franz’s Arabian Nights adventures with the Count at the breakfast that Max was AT?  Come on dude, put it together, there can’t be that many people running around with that ridiculous an alias o   Also, so far Mercedes and Julie are the only two who have even looked funny at the Count so far!  A+ perceptiveness, ladies! o   Also I’m so glad that part of Edmond’s disguise routine is tight corsets o   I had to put down the book to go OOOOOOH at Morrel attributing his salvation to Edmond Dantes’s ghost, DANG Dumas I was not expecting that o   Edmond: oh well I have no idea who that is but I have to leave right now immediately for totally unrelated reasons

LI

o   At least twice this chapter I found myself thinking “wow, this is really Pyramus and Thisbe!” before remembering that that is, in fact, the title of the chapter, so well done Dumas you got me o   Also side note last time I read a thing where the heroine had an evil dad and the name Valentine was involved it belonged to the dad, so my brain keeps trying to autocorrect “Valentine” to “Valentine’s Daughter” o   Be quiet, brain, we can reread Mortal Engines later o   Valentine also really needs more friends!  Can she make friends with Haydee, please? o   @aporeticelenchus​  okay now it definitely makes sense that Edmond would have sought out Franz separately from Albert—I wonder what exactly he was hoping to find in his enemy’s future son-in-law, and if Franz met expectations? o   Marking this down as another class-as-costume moment, now for romance purposes! o   …I wonder what Franz did to make Villefort want him as a son-in-law so bad, since he doesn’t seem to like most people—maybe just being rich and titled, of course o   I’m so sad about Valentine and Nortier’s friendship already :( o   VALENTINE NEEDS A HUG o   I’m glad she at least had a good relationship with her mom?  Her mom was a good, from the little we saw of her :( o   I love how much literally all the kids hate Danglers.  He has a creepy laugh!  Thank you, Valentine

LII

o   This whole chapter is just…very extra.  There is absolutely zero subtlety happening here. o   Valentine is also definitely right to be scared of her stepmom, jeez.  Now I want to hug her even more! o   AU where Edmond’s grand vengeance is actually just raising all his enemies’ kids better than they ever could like in Maleficent o   “this domestic pest answering to the name of Edouard” man I love it when the narrators get judgey o   Once again Edmond pulls two disguises on the same person and gets away with it!  although the fact that he admits it makes me want to think he actually hired someone else to play the doctor in Italy, just to be contrary o   Edmond judging people’s parenting skills is also hilarious o   (Maleficent au!!!) o   EDMOND IS THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS, THE TRUTH IS REVEALED AT LAST

LIII

o   Eugenie!!! o   Albert is so rightfully terrified of her, this is amazing o   I would actually kind of love for the two of them to get convenience-married and then just ignore each other forever? o   Eugenie checking out literally every woman in the opera house is incredible, girl wouldn’t know subtlety if it bit her on the nose—but Haydee is a musician!  Eugenie should invite her over for jam sessions with her and her singer girlfriend! FRIENDSHIP! o   Please just give Haydee friends okay o   Also the slave/princess thing Haydee’s got going is making people uncomfortable and unsure how to treat her, class as costume but the other way around maybe! o   AT LEAST HAYDEE IS PAYING ATTENTION TO THE STAGE o   Haydee backstory!  Excellent!

LIV

o   “ADORABLE” o   Franz’s comments about the count in his letter to Albert—PLEASE CHILL??? o   Unless Albert is making this up as an excuse to compliment the count himself, in which case YOU chill o   Oh so Franz’s dad was a royalist!  That would explain that arranged marriage o   Albert’s really making a fuss about this marriage thing, Eugenie seems mostly indifferent?  Well, maybe it’s just because she’s a lot scarier than he is

LV-LVI

o   These are…a weird couple chapters o   It’s interesting to see the behind the scenes of Edmond’s chessmastering though! o   Also, these two are really terrible actors and I would not be surprised at all if they gave the game away o   At the very least, we should get to see Edmond judging their acting prowess which should be ENTERTAINING o   Again we have ~Andrea~ meeting Edmond in various identities without being any the wiser!  I really want to do a comparison with Fantomina tbh o   They’ve already broken character??  STANDARDS, guys

LVII

o   I’m sad that Eugenie and Valentine aren’t friends, but at least they can talk to each other? o   I do get the feeling that Eugenie wouldn’t have a ton of patience for Valentine’s woe-is-me spiel though, so okay o   …did Nortier murder Franz’s dad, because I would scream o   Honestly, all the next gen boys are so hearteyes about Edmond it’s hilarious o   Sweet of Edmond to get Max that horse he wanted, though!  And…he actually exercised subtlety for once in his life instead of just sending it to Max’s place with diamond earrings??  INCREDIBLE