#like again this book is really really horrible politically like i read it for the first time when i was ... 17 maybe? and definitely like

[earlyspringtranscendence]

the things that are generally wrong with the volstovic cycle are made (naturally, by virtue of the setting and pov characters) so much more egregious in shadow magic but like. kouje & mamoru are unfortunately still the only prince/retainer dynamic i’ve ever read like nothing else compares. sorry. forever.

[deathsmallcaps]

Replying to tags but then I ran out of room and I think i was if not cooking then at least microwaving

#dude when I was in 6th grade I read #the veldt #and at the time it disgusted and genuinely scared me because I was #just so surprised that people - children! - could be raised to be so heartless #idk if I read it for the first time as a 23 year old it would scare me so much #but goddamn

#I think we're both people who are *at least* good at literacy but we're both a little too STEMmy #to look at it the way some English teachers want us to? #like they want people to go from 'damn that's fucked up → what themes are the authors trying to explore here → what about the world #made them think of that and perhaps what are they trying to get us to consider and think about and perhaps change' #obviously not all writing is a fable with a moral at the end #but a lot of good writing has some sort of central belief that it wants the reader to consider

#(I struggle in creating that with my fiction ugh and I think a lot of booktok books do too and it bugs me that we have that connection)

#but anyway #I think you and I'd first reactions are like #’that's horrible → how can we prevent that specific problem from occurring again' #like take the lottery. my (and maybe your?) first reaction is like 'that's horrible → they should ban the lottery' #but the English teacher is going to want us to think 'oh gee okay so this is a commentary on traditions. why would this tradition be started #/necessary? does the lottery reflect the overall morals and sensibilities of the overall society (aka fond of the death penalty etc). #what sort of tradition might this mirror today? connecting to historical events and the fact that the person stoned and the author were #women. aka the gender commonly stoned for witchcraft in New England #do you think that's related?' etc etc etc wrapped in metaphors and shit. and tbh that's how I learned a lot of my religious and political #philosophy as well as history. I really like Thomas swift's 'a modest proposal' (satire) for that reason.

but that was NOT my initial #thought process for English class. I had to be heavily trained into thinking that way and often my first instinct is to not engage with the #metaphor an just go straight to the logic/sensible answer. blah blah blah. I really respect lit and history teachers as a profession but boy #do I not want to teach it because I would be so slack on writing the kinds of questions that would get the kids to engage with the meta. #once I got a piece I got it but it was a struggle every damn time. because I had to get over my feelings of well why didn't they just not #do that'

the biggest one I can think of is 'song of Solomon' by Toni Morrison. I think my senior AP English teacher wanted us to really #consider authors and characters of color (he was white but it was 2018-2019 aka Trump era) so he taught us othello and TM. othello is a #little easier to understand because iago is just being a little bitch about a Black foreigner getting a promotion and a hot wife and no longer being able to convince himself that he was better than Othello

But TM’s main character Milkman? Unlikeable, spoiled little shit who doesn’t give a damn that he’s the 1 percent of his marginalized community and he’s frittering his privileges away so hard that it literally induces suicidal and murderous tendencies into the people around him. Among other things.

It took me foreverrrrrr to engage with the text beyond GOD I HATE THIS GUY but once I was able to examine his psychology and the mean flip side of ‘if you want to fly, you have to get rid of earthly attachments’, which he does at the end of the story.

Was it a chore? Absolutely. But have I ever forgotten the story or the literary tools it gave me? No.

Maybe I’m just speaking for myself in this longass response - you and I usually talk animals and men not books 😅 - but yeah every English class is full of these annoying stories that are meant to rattle one’s brain and I REALLY avoid rattling lmao. Tbqh again I respect lot classes but I’m glad they’re over lmao

But anyways I listened to Levar Burton’s podcast ‘Levar Burton Reads’ from start to finish, and he once read (as a three parter) Toni Morrison’s Recitatif. It’s the story of two girls, one Black one white, who grew up around and with and against each other during the mid 1900s.

I didn’t know what the story was getting at, aside from the surface ideas of the American Civil Rights Movement and privilege and stuff. But LB usually asked questions or briefly mentioned the author’s main idea at the end. And when he did? HOLY FUCK.

If you ever decide to listen to it (I’ve never gotten my hands to a print copy so idk if they usually have some sort of author’s note at the end to ask the reader this question)(I love LB’s voice he’s a pleasure to listen to if you listen to Recitatif) please @ me and tell me if it also blew your mind and made you consider how you viewed the POV character of the story.

Because it blew my mind and made me really consider why I assumed things about the pov character. Im not going to say anything further because I feel like I’m spoiling the point but yeah.

Anyways again this could be just me but I’ve always had trouble moving on from the straight solution mindset. When I was 12 I was in a model UN and I was told to write a report about Togo and its healthcare issues. I took this to mean that I had to research the common issues there (such as unclean water and mosquito bite diseases) and then come up with solutions.

It was incredibly embarrassing to do all that and then hear every other group explain their countries healthcare issues and WHY (historically, monetarily, etc) their countries struggled with such things. And my ass went up there and talked about affordable mosquito deterrent changes to water sources and cheap water cleaning services.

I didn’t realize it then but like. It perfectly exemplified my lack of instinct to subtextually interact with instructions and prompts.

And the thing is. May the universe bless and boost the fucking lit teachers out there because my poor students are entering math class with lit skills 6 grades under where they should be and are genuinely unable to interact with straightforward STEM instructions. My college had every ed major take a ‘teaching literacy’ class and sure I passed but the thing is. I’m not really the person that’s supposed to catch these kids on that subject. I’m supposed to be a secondary math teacher. So a lot of the advice in that class simply wasn’t applicable and I wish it was!!! I’d be happy to help in that subject but also I WAS TRAINED TO BE A MATH TEACHER. AND MOST LITERACY AND LANGUAGE DIFFICULTY COURSES ARE NOT DESIGNED WITH STEM IN MIND. (Which is why I want to learn enough Spanish that I can teach kids learning English math as well because that’s an area that doesn’t get a lot of crossover and a lot of kids fall through).

Well this turned into a ramble goodnight lmao. I’d say this was a decently microwaved thought track lol

[unconventional-lawnchair]

" Dinner Party "

Part 1

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Potter!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: The Potters throw a dinner party; Mattheo meets the family}

Wc- 4142

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Harry is a bit of an arse, cussing, sexual themes cussing, just a bunch of fluff and yearning}

Taglist- @helendeath @2dloveshp @hatakemrs

“Well.” Lily spoke slowly. “Look at us now.” 

Lily looked over at you just in time for you to glance up and meet her eyes. She smiled sweetly before she continued. “I think its sweet.”

…

The tension in the room was slowly beginning to ease. You couldn't help but feel a bit of hope grab hold of your chest. Your eyes flickered between your mother and your father. James, of course, ever protective, still held a look of drastic offense as Lily spoke up again. “I know you're a smart girl, I raised you myself. I knew your partner would be a sore subject.” 

She reached her hand over and placed it over James’ leg. She smiled at him, a look to try and convey everything running threw her head at once. They are kids. Our angel will be okay.

“Why? Did you.. not trust my judgment?” You asked cautiously, your hands slowly fisting the cloth of your pants. 

Lily quickly shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. Quite the opposite.” She mused and turned to look at James who had closed his eyes and began to even his breaths.

“We used to joke you were perhaps meant to be a Hufflepuff. Darling, you have always seen the best in people, even when others couldn't really see it.” Lily offered and James scoffed. Your mother gave a small grimace before she spoke carefully. “Love is complicated. I can attest to that.” She began, eyeing James as if warning him to challenge her. 

“But love is beautiful. That night, at dinner, was the first time I've ever seen you talk back to us. I was distraught, and I am sorry I reacted the way I did.” She began to fiddle with his pant leg between her fingers. Speaking before you could continue. “It was immature. And if this boy puts so much fire in you, I want to at least meet him.”

Your body stiffened and your eyes widened. Looking between your father and mother as you stammered and tried to stutter out something. “M-meet you guys? We've only been dating a few months now.” You tried to defend.

You loved Mattheo, but he wasn't exactly house trained. He was raised by a house elf and saying the Malfoy’s tried to help raise him would be an exaggeration at the least. He could be polite, charming, he was well mannered when he wanted to be, as he had a smile that could take breaths away. 

But he was also Mattheo Riddle, and the idea of putting him in a room with your father, the other most hotheaded boy you knew, was a terrifying one. Mattheo didn't take kindly to being reminded of his father. It felt cruel to put him in a boxed up room with the very people his parents tried to kill. Not to mention, he got emotional when it came to families. 

You acted like you didn't notice at first, for Merlin's sake you were head over heels for this boy. You would sit in his dorm room, bare to your core and tangled together under the sheets. He would be holding you from behind like you were a vice, telling you about his dreams of a family with love like yours. When you would mention your family, he’d grow tense but stay his stoic self when you would ask. 

It wasn't hard to read him like a book, especially since Mattheo basically read it for you. He had changed a lot in the last few months you'd been with him. You used to fight horribly the first month. He was still so used to his single status, he hadn't really had positive expectations set on him. You explained to him what you wanted, you were patient, then he started to talk and communicate with you more efficiently, copying your behaviors to mimic your maturity. He loved how happy you looked when he improved himself, the praise sick boy wanting any bit you'd give him. When he told you he quit smoking, he let you drown him in praise and kisses, using withdrawal as an excuse for him being more handsy with you.

You soon learned from his friends that he had quit months ago, when you first told him you hated them, the cheek. He didn't even have the sense to look guilty when it came to light, just seemed so damn proud of himself.

In all honesty, it was hard not to adore him. Even when he was being a little arse. You had fallen hard for the loaded gun, and he obeyed you like you were the trigger. That being said.. he was still Mattheo, meeting your parents seemed like a bigger step than when he would drag you under his sheets with a silencing charm. 

“What? Don't want him to meet us?” James spoke up, and you snapped out of your thoughts. He sounded almost hopeful, like you weren't entirely serious about him. You gave him a pout and Lily squeezed his thigh tighter. 

“Do you think it's too soon, lovely?” Your mother asked patiently and you bit your lip. The last thing you wanted to do was lie to your mother. Lying to James was easy, he was a bit of a push over when it came to you, and you never lied about anything truly groundbreaking. But Lily, she had been your best friend for years. She was your mother, your confidant, and she knew more about you than anyone else. Probably helps that she's known you since you were welcomed home.

“... I am just scared.” You admitted and James’s expression shifted to soften. He sat up a bit and Lily gave him a soft smile.

“Why?” Your mother prodded and you curled your knees to your chest. 

“Just.. he's never had this.” You gestured around you. “He can be a bit.. reactive when it comes to stress?” You tried to offer the information carefully and James frowned hard.

“Reactive as in?” He leaned closer and your eyes flashed open wide. 

“No, Merlin, he would never. Not to me.” You tried to defend and the look on your mothers face made you realize what you said.

“That's not- no, I don't mean it like that.” You quickly tried to back track. Lily sent James a smirk. 

James looked at her with a furrowed brow and a slight pout. “What?”

“Just reminds me of how I tried to defend my choice of partner to my parents. Then, to your parents.” Lily laughed and James bit his cheek but smiled to see his wife so happy. You watched the two and your heart throbbed a bit. You loved your parents so much. You wanted that with Mattheo. Were you moving too fast? It was likely. Could this go horribly wrong? Most definitely. 

“Okay.” You spoke up and your parents turned to you “I'll invite him.”

~~~

Mattheo was at the Lestrange manor alone, as usual, but this summer was far different. He usually would busy himself with his friends, going to pointless balls the Malfoy’s insisted he attend, sneaking off with pureblood girls he didn't even remember the names of. Or better, going drinking with his mates from school.

This summer was killing him. The silence of the manor used to bother him before, every footstep sounded like thunder, every breath he made echoed in his ears, but now? Merlin. You came from a loud family, you didn't know the pain of it. When he was with you, the louder things weren't always bad. You always talked a bit louder than him, played music in his dorm with his unused radio, talked to him while you ran your fingers through his hair. It was easy to like the louder things now. He hated quiet.

The silence just reminded him you weren't there. He didn't even remember when his nights spent alone with witches of different backgrounds became nights of desperate yearning for you. Neither of you had said it yet, but even if you were just talking now, he didn't intend to keep it that way. He didn't want anyone else. He couldn't have anyone else. And the idea of you with someone else? He'd rather die.

Theodore Nott had been lettering him to try and get him out of the hell house, but the idea of you lettering him back when he wasn't home ate him up inside. Pansy called him whipped, when he lettered her to ask if he had done something wrong. ‘It’s only been two weeks, let her settle.’ Out of all of his friends, you clicked with her the easiest. It didn't help that he got a bit jealous when you talked to his male friends. He's never cared this much.

He was sure you've had to have hexed him.

Slipped him Amortentia.

Or soaked your entire body in it. 

Maybe it was mixed into that lovely perfume of yours? 

He groaned out and covered his face, leaning back from his desk into his seat. He let his arms go slack at the sides of his chair and looked at the ceiling. He was pathetic, but he wasn't scared of it this time. He liked feeling weak, if it was for you. He bit his bruised bottom lip and turned to look at the window. What would you think of him now? Sitting about with nothing to do but need you. He needed the heavenly haze you gave him. He liked to worship you, like you were all he was beyond his family. 

Two days after he had sent that letter, he was starting to wonder if you had realized your mistake. That being with your family reminded you that Mattheo Riddle was no one. Someone who should remember he was no one. Not worth the time you spared him day to day, that he was just some phase. He didn't know if he could recover from you. He might just throw the towel in if you didn't want him. Who could recover from a love like a prayer? A love that made him think of you like it was a threat. You were a threat. To his sanity. To his reputation. To his status. 

And he was a threat to you. Obsession, he had to agree with Draco. You are an obsession.

His thoughts were thrown out when he noticed something coming into view through his window. He nearly knocked his chair over as he stumbled over to open it. The Potter’s Owl.

~~~

“You're invited to the Potter’s Residence for our first dinner party of the year,”

Mattheo thumbed over the invitation in hand. He was shocked when he first read it, not only did he never expect to be invited to the Potter’s, he definitely didn’t ever expect you to tell your parents enough about him to be invited. He was excited, thumbing the invitation over and over.

He had groomed himself properly, he was in a button up shirt and a green vest, his hair was almost tamed. He was holding the invitation, raising his knuckle to knock on the door.

You snapped to attention from where you were looking in the mirror. You were wearing a deep forest green dress, the one you knew Mattheo loved, and your dad seemed to take that as a personal offense, dressed in his red dress shirt that matched your mothers dress.

“I still don't like this.” Sirius grumbled from his seat on the couch, and Remus rolled his eyes from where he leaned in the doorway. “A bit late, darling.” He mumbled as he watched you walk down the hall to open the door.

Lily requested Harry and James set up the table, leaving just you and her in the immediate room.

You took a deep breath, looking at your mom before she nodded and you turned back. Opening the door you were a bit startled to see Mattheo so put together, you had to remember that he was raised as pureblood royalty, you just never figured you'd see him so done up. You bit your lip a bit and he chuckled at this, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly stepped aside and he walked in, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his form, not having noticed Lily yet. 

“I missed you, beautiful.” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss you. The second his lips touched yours, you sighed. Like he unwove every bit of your tense frame with just his touch. You couldn't remember a thing, not why you were so worried, where you were, and how your mother was watching you. For ten whole seconds, with just his soft careful kiss, he had made you dumb. He took a sharp breath and sighed after you, stepping closer.

Lily noticed the signs as it got a bit deeper than just a greeting kiss, and she quickly cleared her throat. You quickly pulled away in a fluster, and Mattheo just followed your lips to give you another quick peck, before he pulled back and gave Lily his dazzling look. “Mrs. Potter, right?” He mused and you had to catch a whine in your throat when he stepped back. He held his hand out and Lily moved to shake it, but instead he took her palm and kissed the back of her wrist. “You have a lovely home, ma'am. I can't say I'm surprised, {Y/N} had taken on your style.” He mused and Lily smirked at him.

“So you've been to my daughter’s dorm, hm?” She asked cheekily and his eyes widened and his face dropped. Like a guilty puppy. “I-”

Lily laughed and waved her hand. “Please, don't feel the need to explain. I'm only joking.”

Mattheo blinked a few times and slowly smiled. You and Lily were a lot alike. It looked like he had an ally already. He let go of her hand and stood up straighter. Waving his hand a bundle of Orchids appeared and he offered them to her. “Well, thank you for welcoming me.”

Your heart swelled at the interaction. Maybe tonight wouldn't be horrible. 

“Riddle, hm?” 

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

Sirius stood in the doorway of the parlor room, staring down at Matheo with a harsh glare. Mattheo met his gaze with his usual dissociative state. “Sirius Black, sir? It's nice to meet you.” He mused and offered him his hand. Sirius looked down at his hand then back to Mattheo. Riddle sighed and moved his hand down to his side, a bit startled when you walked up and took it for yourself. 

He smiled at you like a love sick fool, and Sirius felt his lip twitch at the look.

Remus seemed to see it too, ever the helpless romantic, he bit his cheek. Trying to hide a smile. 

Now, Remus despised the idea of you bringing a Riddle into the family. He hated the idea you would possibly, one day carry the last name of the monster that was Tom Riddle. But those thoughts left his head when he saw how you rested your head on his shoulder, your fingers playing with his, like a practiced art, knowing exactly how to soften the blow of rejection from your uncle.

Suddenly, Mattheo was giving that bright smile again, and you felt a bit cocky to be the one to give it to him. Pressing your lips to his shoulder and you peaked over it but just stared at his profile.

“Nice to meet you, again.” Remus mused, offering his hand and Mattheo’s smile only grew, taking his hand and shaking it firm. “Thank you, Professor.”

He shook his head. “Remus is fine.”

Sirius gawked at him in full offense, having lost himself to the boy's charm. 

Before Sirius could make a snappy comment, Lily spoke up. “Well, I'm sure you're hungry, let's go get you fed, hm?”

“Yes ma'am.” Mattheo responded in kind, before glancing down at you by his shoulder and wetting his lips. Leaning down to steal another kiss, Sirius scoffed as he passed you two to get to the table. Remus followed behind him, as Lily waved the two to their seats. 

“Not much for a dinner party, hm?” He mumbled to you and you gave a small laugh. 

“Not all of us are as extravagant as your family.” You teased and he gave a wolfish smirk. “I think you forget, your father is James Potter, famous for his parties if I remember.” He teased and you rolled your eyes before biting your lip. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Not to mention, even if he seems to hate me, Sirius is my family.”

You narrowed your eyes before your eyebrows jumped upward as you pieced together his family tree. Right. His mother was Sirius’s cousin. It suddenly sunk into you just why Sirius seemed to be taking this so seriously. Mattheo was a mix of the two things he hated most, his family and Voldemort. Must be hard to believe anything good could come from those two things.

You shoved the thought away. He could get over himself. You weren't going to throw away everything you and Mattheo were because Sirius couldn't get over his bias. Your father too.

Once you and Mattheo walked into the dining room, it seemed to be going well. There wasn't much conversation between Mattheo and your family, you found yourself talking to each other. Updates on your lives, him whispering how much he missed you, taking every opportunity to drown you in his affections. You were a flustered mess, but smiling the brightest you've had in days. It was like an addiction, his attention. 

You didn't notice Lily's attention on you two, too wrapped up in Riddle. He was the same, looking at you like you were the last person in the world, like you were worth falling for. He sure hoped so, because he was approaching the ground rapidly as your eyes danced his features. It reminded her of something, turning to look at James and was met with the same look as he tried to start up another Quidditch conversation with her. She simply rolled her eyes fondly. How could he not see what was happening?

“So.” Lily spoke up after her conversation with James flickered out. She spoke in a tone that demanded attention. “How did you two meet? When did this start?” She offered and Mattheo bit his cheek and looked at you, for the hundredth time that night. You smiled and looked back at your mom.

“Well, Professor McGonagall asked me to help a student study during lunch periods. I had no clue who it was but I figured it couldn't hurt.” You mused, conveniently not bringing up the bribe. “Then it kind of.. changed. Eventually it just became casual study dates. Like one, I was teaching him how to summon a patronus and-” You lit up as bright as a star as you began your story, before Harry scoffed. Your face fell a bit and you looked over at Harry with a furrowed brow.

Mattheo had to resist the urge to snap at him for taking away such a view.

He looked up at you with a glare. “I've just never met a Death Eater who could use a patronus is all.”

There was a thick silence that filled the room as your jaw went slack. You tried to figure out a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, mouth growing dry.

Lily tried to speak up but Mattheo beat her to it. “Sorry to disappoint, still haven't it seems.” He cheeked and you looked back at him with a laugh. Your mother gave Harry a look that certainly meant danger for him later. Harry didn't even seem to care, just scoffed.

“He summoned a Fox.” You informed your mother and her mouth fell open a bit, her smile brightening. 

“Is that true?” He prodded Mattheo and he nodded. “Yes ma'am.”

Lily looked at James with raised eyebrows, amused, and he shook his head before clicking his tongue. “So. Heard you were in the Quidditch team, what position?” James finally and reluctantly joined the conversation. 

“Beater, sir.” Mattheo mused and smirked, eyeing Harry from the corner of his eye. “Seems someone still miffed over the bludger he took a few weeks ago.”

“Your team cheated.” Harry challenged quickly and Mattheo gave him a wolfish smirk. “Did we? Or is that the only way you'd accept that we got the cup?”

“Watch it, Riddle. I'll make a fool of you next season.” Harry quipped and it actually sounded almost playful. You gave a scoff and Mattheo chuckled. Figures they'd bond over Quidditch of all things.

“Really? A beater?” James spoke up and Mattheo looked over to him with a nod. 

“Sirius was a beater too, we were a fierce team.” James mused and leaned forward. “We created this move…”

Their voices faded out, and you smiled at the scene. It was cordial, almost friendly, as the men at the table talked about the sport with enthusiasm. Well, all safe for Remus who started talking to your mother about a new book recommendation. You just watched how Mattheo seemed to fall into place in your family so easily, and how happy he seemed about it. 

Way too soon, the night was over, and Mattheo was leaving. You and your parents walked him to the door, and he turned to face you.

“Thank you again, Mrs. Potter, the food was amazing. And Mr. Potter, thank you for allowing me to come over.” He mused and your mom shook her head. “Please, anytime sweetheart. Call me Lily.” 

Then, much to your surprise. “Call me James.” Your father mused and took his hand into a firm shake.

Mattheo had this startled look on his face, thrown for a loop before he quickly recovered. “Y-yes sir. I mean James, yes James.”

You giggled and before Mattheo could be given any more surprises, you walked up and hugged his arm. “I'll walk him out of the apparition wards.”

“Don't be gone too long-” James began before Lily covered his mouth and shooed you both off. “Go! We'll be here.” She reassured you.

You pulled Mattheo out the door, leaving Lily to smirk up at James and he groaned. “Okay, the kid isn't that bad.”

“You too!?” Sirius shouted from across the house and Lily laughed. 

~~~

You walked with Mattheo, managed to get just a few yards from the house before his lips were on yours. He had stopped completely, wrapping his arms around your waist and almost toppled you over when he leaned over your frame so easily. You let your hands slide up to his biceps and he gave a low groan, pulling away before he got too far. 

You took a sharp puff of air and steadied your breathing. Your eyes met his deep dark ones. He was looking at you with something so familiar and yet it was hungrier than you'd ever seen before. “Mattheo-”

“Tonight was amazing.” He whispered and took your lips again. This time, you actually managed to prepare yourself. Your hands slipped behind his neck and into his gelled hair. Pouting into the kiss and he smirked. “What?”

“Your hair. I hate it like this.” You mumbled into his lips, not wanting to break the kiss. Mattheo laughed and pulled his wand from his pocket, waving it to return his hair to his naturally fluffy glory. 

“That better?” He teased, giving a toothy smirk as he watched you lick your lips clean of him. 

“Much.” This time, you started the kiss, earning a low yelp from him. He chuckled and pushed you against the wall of your fathers property. Hands roaming lower, as you tilted your head back, his new target being your neck.

“You’ve been driving me mad all night, ya know that?” He breathed against your collarbone, fingers fiddling with the end of your dress. “Had to look your father in the eye tonight, and you still wore this? All I could think of was the last time you wore it.” 

You gave a low gasp when his fingers lipped just under the small skirt. “M-Mattheo-”

“I've missed you, beautiful. The last two weeks were torture, you know that? Know what you do to me?” He mumbled against your skin. Your eyes grew hazy the more he spoke. Like he was controlling you with his words. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he looked just past you. 

“Huh. Do you guys have a dog?” He asked and you snapped out of your trance when you heard a loud roar from behind you. “And.. a stag? You have dogs and deer on your property?” He asked and you simply covered your face and gave a loud groan.

“Dad!!”

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Don't Care, Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader fluff

Summary: Bucky is capital J-Jealous

Warnings: A guy being overly nice at a bar, drinking at 1pm, nothing else I can think of

Notes: Short little thing I thought of when i was visiting home and witnessing my sister's boyfriend be jealous lol. I just love jealous Bucky sorry not sorry. More Biker!Bucky here

“Oh hey sweetheart, you look lonely over here.” You looked up from where you were engrossed in the book you’d left behind the bar for days just like this, the crew was too busy to talk and the regulars weren’t your favorite. The man wasn’t a regular, not horrible looking and was dressed alright. You were confident he had stopped by because his car was in the shop. The demographic that frequented the bar that was not the vibe that this man was giving off.

“Oh you know, just waiting for my order,” you supplied with a polite smile. He had plopped himself onto the bar stool beside you and raised a two finger salute to Bruce, who was the daytime bartender.

“Waiting for your car?” he asked, “Nice girls like you don’t usually come around here.” Your eyes narrowed, an eyebrow going up.

“I’m a regular. And you? Waiting for your car? Since I haven’t seen you around.” Bruce came over, giving you a look that said ‘if this guy is bothering you I’ll toss him out’ and you knew he would. Bruce “The Hulk” Banner was not exactly known for his polite way of answering rude customers. You shook your head. No need to alienate a customer just because he got a little friendly at a bar.

“What can I get you, man?”

“Whatever IPA you have and whatever the lady is having I’ll put on my tab.” Bruce grinned at that and you were near protesting. You never paid for a thing at the Howling Commando, but you knew Bruce and you knew he was putting your lunch right on this guy’s tab.

“Sure thing.” Bruce turned away.

“Must just have not been around on the same days as you.” You glanced around the bar. It was pretty empty today, but it was still early. Your bosses had required you to use some of your PTO before they had to pay you out for it, and you were truly more than happy to oblige a staycation. After another glance around, Bruce still keeping an eye on you out of the corner of your eye, you decided it would be entirely harmless to engage in conversation.

“Not sure. I’m here every day. Basically. You here getting your car fixed?” You asked again. He gave you another sleazy smile, this one reminiscent of your male coworkers who thought they could get any more than a polite smile or handshake at a work happy hour.

“Waiting for my car yeah. Only place this convenient to get a decent bite and drink while waiting for them to get done.” As if on queue, Bruce slid over your usual burger and sweet tea, and then an IPA for the guy.

“Closed tab?” Bruce asked, putting his hand out for the card. The guy did a suggestive look over at you.

“You know? Keep it open.” You rolled your eyes at your sandwich, slightly regretting that you had begun a conversation with this man, and took a bite. Some of the tomato juice dripped down your chin and you snapped at Bruce to get his attention.

“You’re going to learn one of these days,” he sighed, tossing you a stack of napkins. You chewed and swallowed and then gave him a grin as he walked back over.

“You keep saying that, but I never do.”

“Good luck…” he looked at the tab as he slid it under a cup in front of the man, “Colin… you’re going to need it.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, you knew he didn’t mean good luck with you, or at least not the primary part.

“So you’re really a regular regular huh?” Colin was eyeing you with near a frown as he took the first sip of his beer. The clock behind the bar read a quarter past one.

“Yeah, lots of friends who work here. Just not usually in during the day. Sounds like you’ve been here before?” You took another bite before he could pivot the questioning back to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been before. They did a shit job though…” He started to ramble but you were quickly uninterested when the side door opened and a sweaty, grease stained Bucky Barnes walked in, squinting at a ticket.

“Paulson? Fucking Yelena and her handwriting. This is fuc-oh!” It was almost comedic to see Bucky go from a serious, frowning massive man to the grinning, golden retriever man he became when he looked at you. Bucky attention had turned squarely on you as he walked over, the ticket partially crumpling in his hand as he tried to wipe them off before he got over to you. The grease stains on some of your clothes were impossible to get out just from his grabby hands.

“Paulson, that’s me.” Both you and Bucky turned to Colin, as if he had just returned to existence. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and you could see them flicker across the length of the empty bar then back to where Colin had seated himself beside you. He knew it had to be him that sat beside you because not two hours gone, Bucky had come in for some water and to smack a kiss to your lips right where you sat now.

All concern for grease stains went right out the window.

Bucky came up behind you, reaching over your shoulder to take a few fries off your plate, the hand with the crumpled ticket going around the other side to hand it to Colin, effectively entrapping you between his arms and away from the guy.

“Your car’s done. You can settle it up in the office.” Colin stared at Bucky, who after handing him the paper, wrapped his arm around you and pressed your back to his chest, chomping on fries and reaching for your sweet tea.

“Did they make your burger good?” Bucky asked, “The new cook got specific instructions.” You elbowed him lightly.

“I don’t need everyone thinking I’m a control freak.” Bucky laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“They know I’m the control freak.”

“I guess… I guess I’ll go get my car then. Nice to meet you.” Colin left his mostly full IPA on the table and forgot to pay his tab, near running out the front door.

“What was that guys problem?” Bucky asked jokingly, spinning your stool so you were facing him. You wrinkled your nose.

“You’re stinky.”

“I don’t think you care,” Bucky rumbled, leaning down to press a long warm kiss to your lips.

“His problem was I was getting ready to deck him,” Bruce said, setting down a pint of Bucky’s favorite on a coaster beside your food. He whisked away Colin’s drink and wiped down the watermark.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing,” Bruce responded before disappearing back towards the kitchen. Bucky plopped onto the stool beside you and waited for you to respond.

“He was just trying to chat me up. That’s all.” Bucky sipped his drink before taking a massive bite out of your burger.

“Hey! That’s mine! Smaller bite!”

“I’m just taste testing the new cook.” You bickered over your lunch as the rest of the garage crew began to filter in, a few of the regulars making their way through the front as well.

“Heyo! I heard someone was trying to flirt with-“ Bucky hit Steve in the arm, but Sam had already heard it from where he was clocking in behind the bar.

“Is he dead?” he yelled. The group devolved into ways that Bucky could have murdered this man. All of you failed to notice Colin walking in the front door, where he paused and stared at the group of massive, tattooed bikers calling out forms of torture that could have been inflicted on him. Sam saw him first.

“Oh hey man, what can I get you?” Everyone turned toward him and Bucky got to his feet immediately, having been the only one who could have identified him.

“Just-“ the man’s voice came out high and you suppressed a grin, already feeling a little bad for him. He cleared his throat, face red.

“Just the tab I left.” There was a quiet murmur of “ooooos” as the group dispersed, keeping an eye on you and Bucky.

"Sorry," you started, but Bucky shifted around the side of the bar, picking up Colin's card where it was sitting by the register. Policy was 20% on any leftover cards and Bruce had already closed it out with your meal on there.

"Here. Get lost." Bucky's expression had gone dark.

"Buck, he didn't know."

"Don't care." Colin took a few steps back.

"Man, I wasn't looking for trouble. I didn't know she was your girl, she was talking to me too."

"Do. Not. Care." Colin fled under the close watch of the bikers.

"You didn't have to do that," you sighed, rolling your eyes at the men around you, "You're going to lose a customer."

"Don't care," Bucky muttered, back by your side, "You're mine, honey. Don't care what anyone else says."

"I am yours. He was just being nice." Sam had started the music for the night, and it whafted through the speakers.

"Dance with me, belle?" You laughed.

"When have I ever said no to that? In fact, kill me if I ever do because its an evil clone trying to take over my life." He laughed, the sound more than enough music to your ears for dancing. Bucky wrapped an arm around you and smacked a kiss to your lips, taking your hand and whisking you off to the dance floor.

[clairewritesfanfics]

Omg I love how you write Mark and his variants!

Okay I may or may not have dived into a deep hole of neglected batfam reader so is it okay if I request for reader to happen to just find an escape through a Angstrom portal that appeared randomly in her bedroom, so just peace out and was transported into the Invincible universe where she met Mark (and his variants), fall in love and told him about how horrible her family is.

Only for him to find a way to open up a portal to her world (this is mostly goes for the variants instead main mark), and caused havoc on the DC world and reader has to stop him, confront her family and leave to her new home with him

Author's Note: My last request! (technically, it's not) YAHOO. And my first Batfam fanfic.

Your Character Settings: AFAB, daughter of Bruce Wayne and an unknown woman

“Would like seconds, miss?” Alfred asked after you finished your meal. 

Tonight's dinner was a hefty serving of tomato and basil spaghetti. Before you moved in with the Waynes, your meals were usually jam and bread or a cup of instant noodles. The old you would have eaten as much as you were allowed. The old you would have gotten angry at you for not asking for another serving. But you weren't living paycheck to paycheck on a cashier's salary anymore. 

“I'm fine,” you answered the butler. You glanced around the long table. Alfred said it was improper for servants to dine with the masters of the home, so you ate alone again. You didn't know why you felt upset. Even after months of the same routine, your disappointment continued to fill half your stomach. 

“Very well. Tonight's dessert is a chocolate ganache cake served with black tea. I take it that you will be having your slice in your room?”

You smiled.

“I’ll have it upstairs in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope this time you actually answer the door. I don’t mind leaving the food outside but tea should be appreciated hot.”

“I’m sorry, you know how it is when I get in the zone.”

“How many words did you write today?”

You beamed. “Exactly two thousand just this morning. I’m hoping to get another thousand before midnight.”

“I hope you do, maybe you can finally start waking up before noon.”

You laughed, standing up from your seat.

Alfred was the only one in this entire mansion to actually hold full conversations with you. 

Dear old dad was always away on business trips. Your younger half-brother Damian never uttered a word to you, only regarded you with disdain and walked away before introductions were over. Tim was polite enough to nod in greeting–when he was lucid, which was seldom the case every time you saw him. Dick was nice, he smiled and made small talk when he was around, but you can count on one hand the number of times he was at the manor, or in Gotham in general.

You had another brother. His photos were rare, finding one was like finding an Easter egg. On the outside, he was no different from the others with his black hair and blue eyes, and from what you’ve seen of him, he could be blood-related to Dick. But Alfred said that Jason was an orphan, too. 

Little Jason, always smiling brightly in every image you found. He died years before you arrived here. You liked to pretend that he would be exactly what you wished for when Mister Wayne invited you to live with the family: a kind, present and supportive older brother.

You doubt it was healthy to project such feelings on not just a ghost but a stranger’s ghost, but pretending to have someone care beyond the bare minimum helped you adjust to your life as a Wayne kid. 

Alfred let you borrow books from Jason’s room and you made a point to treat every novel with care and refused to fold the pages or write on them. Jason really loved romance books and happily ever afters, and reading his collection inspired to take up writing. Hobbies were a luxury you couldn’t afford while juggling two part-time jobs, but now you had all the time in the world.

You stared at your monitor. Did you jinx yourself earlier?

You’ve hit a wall for today’s chapter.

The insertion point blinked mockingly at you. 

You only needed a thousand more words. That’s child’s play, but whatever you typed did not meet your standards, even for a first draft. 

You checked the time.

You’ve been sitting here for ten minutes. Usually, you’ll be typing like crazy the moment your butt was on the chair.

You plopped your elbows on your desk and squeezed your cheeks, an exasperated sigh leaving your mouth.

Ten minutes feels like forever when you’re trying to start something important.

Maybe a sugar boost will help.

Just as you thought of this, you overheard movement outside. 

Smiling, you rushed to open the door. 

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me–” 

Your lips twitched as you were greeted by the sight of Damian and Tim, holding a comically large mug of coffee. They were quarreling when your sudden appearance caught them off guard. 

“Hi.”

Damian’s lips pursed and he grumbled something under his breath.

“It’s rare to see you guys here,” you said plainly.

Tim laughed awkwardly. “I guess so.”

“Did you eat dinner already?”

“I–”

Damian pushed his back. “Let’s go, Drake, we’re busy.”

“Right, um, sorry–” Tim threw you an apologetic smile “–see you around.”

You smiled back as politely as you could. “See you.” There was no point in getting offended, you were the oldest one in this hallway and you were too exhausted to feel angry.

You watched Damian nudge Tim even farther away until they disappeared from view. 

Shaking your head softly, you stepped back inside your room and shut the door. You weren’t a warm person, but you didn’t have a family before. It was always just you bouncing between foster homes and sleeping in dumpsters when you had no other choice. You had no one to fall back on, and you were prepared to live the rest of your life like that, because what other choice was there? 

But then Mister Wayne arrived in the 24-hour mart while you worked the graveyard shift. Dingy apartments with creepy neighbors were replaced with a Gilded Age mansion. Hours spent on your feet catering to all sorts of customers became days of ennui (you learned that word from one of Jason’s books). Sodium-loaded canned and instant foods were now sodium-loaded fancy meals. You were grateful, and while it hurt not to have the family you’ve always dreamed of, you can deal with the wall between you as long as you never had to go back to being actually alone. 

You returned to your desk. The blinking line on the word document continued mocking you.

You reached for the latest novel you borrowed from Jason’s personal collection, A Little Princess, and flipped back to where you stopped yesterday, at Chapter Four: Lottie. 

“Things happen to people by accident," she used to say. "A lot of nice accidents have happened to me. It just HAPPENED that I always liked lessons and books, and could remember things when I learned them. It just happened that I was born with a father who was beautiful and nice and clever, and could give me everything I liked. Perhaps I have not really a good temper at all, but if you have everything you want and everyone is kind to you, how can you help but be good-tempered? I don't know"—looking quite serious—"how I shall ever find out whether I am really a nice child or a horrid one. Perhaps I'm a HIDEOUS child, and no one will ever know, just because I never have any trials.”

You paused. You haven’t read A Little Princess before, but you’ve seen the film multiple times because one of your foster mothers adored it.

Family? Love? They were nice, but you didn’t need them. 

It was true that you were Bruce Wayne’s illegitimate kid and he took you in out of a sense of responsibility. You weren’t a child anymore, far from it, most people your age are in college while you just finished your GED. You haven’t spoken with Mister Wayne about university and frankly, you were too scared; what would he or the others think? Would they think you were getting too greedy?

Pride and dreams were reserved for people who can afford them. You may share Bruce’s blood but it was clear that he loved his sons more, regardless of their origin. 

Food, shelter–money, that’s what you needed, and the Waynes gave it to you. You had no right to complain or wish for more. You didn’t want to reach for the sun only to end up getting burned. 

You were about to continue reading when a green light illuminated your eyes. You looked away from the page and saw a green hole forming on the floor, right in front of the door. A faint shearing sound accompanied its undulating outline as it grew bigger. 

You set down the book and walked closer. You can see a different place inside the emerald ring. This wasn’t some hole, it was a portal. 

Honestly, not the weirdest thing for a Gothamite. 

Still though…

Against all common sense, you knelt down and glanced inside. You were usually smarter than this, not to toot your own horn, but your intelligence is what kept you alive in Gotham for all these years; however, something about this portal called out to you. You dipped one hand inside. 

The air was warmer than it was in your room. 

You were going to pull back when–

knock, knock 

“Miss?”

You yelped, caught off guard and lost your balance–you fell straight into the portal.

Main Mark

He was doing his usual routine, flying around, helping people and preventing city-destroying disasters when he heard your screaming and caught you just in time.

You thanked him and asked if you could please take you back to Gotham.

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What’s Gotham?”

“Crap.”

You both figured out that you were on a parallel Earth and he offered to let you stay with him until you found a way back.

Debbie was a sweetheart. She was super understanding and kind and you imprinted on her instantly. You didn’t want to be a burden so you helped maintain the house and cooked for them. 

Mark fell in love with you, because of course, he did. He found himself getting more and more excited to finish his missions early just so he can come home to your smile. You liked him, too, you didn’t know if it was love, but when he found the courage to ask you out you agreed, hoping that maybe you’ll learn.

It was a relatively simple love story, world-hopping aside. You and Mark were friends first who soon became soulmates. You didn’t mind that he missed dates and you kept yourself busy helping Debbie as a real estate agent. 

You supported Mark throughout his struggles, listened to his problems and comforted him when he was in pain. In turn, he taught you how to love, and maybe more importantly, how to be loved. He surprised you with gifts–nothing big but always extraordinary–like daisies he found while flying over the countryside or a bracelet that reminded him of you. He always asked if you were hungry or thirsty before going to get his own snack, and even when you said no he’d return with your own food and drink. He looked at you that made you unable to look at him, he made you shy in the best way possible. He was everything you didn’t know you wanted. 

***

When a portal appeared again, it wasn’t green, it was gold–and the men on the other side didn’t hesitate when they jumped into Mark’s universe. 

They weren’t violent, but they were not nice. Invincible got into a fight with the tiny one in red and green. The “hero” who called himself Nightwing was friendly, but Mark could tell he was on edge like the rest of them.

“We’re looking for a girl,” Nightwing said, flashing a holographic album full of your photos. Neither you nor Mark knew anything about your family’s nightly activities so your boyfriend became more suspicious of these masked heroes. 

“Why? What’s wrong with her?”

Mark could tell that everyone knew that he knew who you were, but Nightwing remained calm. “We’re not going to hurt her. It’s hard to believe since we’re basically aliens, but we just want to bring her home. Her family misses her.”

That made Mark scoff. You told him about your family. You didn’t hate them, but Mark certainly did. You were… too used to loneliness. And that pissed him off. You were amazing, you deserved nothing but warmth and your so-called family ignored you. 

He wanted nothing more than to flip these guys off with a message, “Tell her family that she’s happier here and that she doesn’t need them holding her back,” but that wasn’t his decision to make. 

“I know her,” Invincible said. “I’ll tell her about you guys, but if she says she doesn’t want to come back, you leave her alone. Got that?”

“That–”

“No,” Batman said firmly. “She’s coming back. She needs her family.”

Mark’s eye twitched, but he kept his cool. “We’ll see.”

“I can’t believe it,” you muttered, gripping tightly on your copy of Pride and Prejudice like it was a stress ball.

Mark had been late for date night, no biggie, so you spent the evening reading a novel on your TBR list. When he came back from patrol, his whole body was tense, his face solemn when he pulled off his mask. He then joined you at the table and explained what happened.

“Talk to me, baby. What’re you thinking about?” He asked, placing a grounding hand over your cold fingers.

You let go of the book and squeezed his hand. “I’m not sure. After a year, I was sure that I’d be here forever–and I would’ve been okay–happy with that, but now…”

“I know.” He thumbed your knuckles. “What’re you going to do? Are you..”

Were you planning to go back?

“I don’t know.” You looked into his eyes. “What should I do, Mark?”

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and beg you to open your eyes. You were miserable back in Gotham. You were better off here, with him. 

But instead, he cradled both of your hands between his and he smiled. “I can’t tell you what to do, only that I’ll support you no matter what.”

Main Mark is the only one who will step aside if you decide to return and fix your relationship with your family. It will hurt. And he will crack when it’s time to say goodbye; he’ll pull you into his arms and beg you to stay with him, but if you have made up your mind, he won’t force you otherwise. 

His variants aren’t so selfless. Omni, Head Cap, Maskless, No Goggles and Full Mask won’t even bother telling you about the portal appearing, intent on keeping you by their side. 

Flaxan, Target and Viltrumite Mark would have already whisked you away from Earth and it would take a while before the Bats found you. 

Mohawk, Prisoner, Shiesty and Sinister will tell you about the portal and the foreign superheroes that have come for you and plead with you not to leave–and this is after they’ve decided to pick a fight with Batman and crew.

a/n:

Hi anon, I’m sorry this took so long but I knew that if I opened this door to DC I'll end up fawning over Jason and get distracted (and I was right). You’re my last request (technically no but I'm still not prepared to share Shiesty's origin story), but YAYYYY 

Also, I know that anon specified that the Bats were horrible to Y/N, and I did try to write them like that initially, but it was hard for that scenario to fully form in my head. The Bat family is dysfunctional as heck, but I usually write about a normal, civilian YN and I can't see them being purposefully abusive to someone like that. Despite DC's many fumbles, the Bats are supposed to be good people at their core so the words just wouldn't flow. 

DON'T GET ME WRONG, considering my love for revenge stories, I do want to write about the Bats being neglectful and unintentionally awful to YN and then her waking up and realizing that she doesn't care anymore, and then she stops chasing after them, which in turn, makes them chase after her, but that's a story for another day.

Anyway, I hope you still liked it!! (I'm going to cry about Red Hood and Huntress now.)

(ˊᗜˋﾉﾉ

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire.

Gotham City, lifted from: https://heroism.fandom.com/wiki/Gotham_City

Invincible flying, lifted from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-every-character-fate-comics/

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

MAIN MASTERLIST

Any questions for the author? Ask here.

mini masterlist for this au<<select

PS can you guess which Batboy is my favorite? LOL

[domoz-writes]

Am thinking about non transmigration au where SY discovers his sexuality via 400k of unposted Mobing...

My thoughts are as such:

Right before the end of PIDW Airplane posts an update that basically says "Hey due to a mix of health and personal reasons I won't be able to post for a while sorry!!"

SY, who is in the hospital with horrible food poisoning isn't happy about this!! Something like this right after a cliffhanger??? Really??? And he's not got a lot else to do In the hospital, so he kind of... accidentally... doxxes Airplane...

He was just looking for an account that he thought that hack author would check since he's obviously not looking at zhongdian, honest!!! But it turns out that this person lives somewhat nearby where SY does and is much cuter than he expected some hack author to be

So he maybe goes to wander around the area (its nearby!! He's allowed to go on walks isn't he!!) And as a matter of fact finds Airplane!! Right on the sidewalk!!!

And starts off with a rather aggressive introduction before realizing that his favorite shitty erotica author 1) has obviously healing electrocution burns, 2) is?? Way too skinny? Like on par with SY himself and hes chronically ill, 3) is standing outside a social services office and 4) appears to be carrying everything he owns with him on his back

He immediately feels so guilty that he pivots from angry ranting to guiltily offering him a place to stay or, he can at least pay for a hotel room?? SQH does a very brief amount of mental calculus on if he'd rather deal with government bureaucracy or getting kidnapped and axe murdered by a crazy fan, shrugs, and chooses the latter.

When SQH point out that he can't pay SY back in any way SY tells him that he can pay him back by writing a better novel!!! SQH teases him about being a devoted fan and offers to let him read some unpublished extras and backstory stuff (like SJ & YQY backstory, that sort of thing). Predictably, SY likes this a lot more and complains that it wasn't in the novel, in turn Airplane laments that if more readers were like SY he wouldn't be in this situation in thr first place.

Related: SQH can't update because his laptop is fried. SY claims "to know a guy". SY does not know a guy, but he has money, so... (the files are fine and saved in like 3 different cloud locations, Airplane already learned that lesson)

But PIDW ended on a cliffhanger! SY doesn't want to wait!!! So he bothers Airplane until he finds out that Airplane actually haS two endings waiting in the wings and he still hasn't decided which one to post. Reason being: he's kinda 80% done with writing a sequel of sorts, but he knows if he posts it it will basically get his zhongdian account nuked and remove his chances of making money from it ever again, because the current readers of PIDW would HATE IT

Sy eventually argues that *he's* a reader and that Airplane should let *him* read it and if he deems it good then it's certainly good enough to post!! SQH finds this very funny because SY is not the average PIDW at all, but decides to allow it

The sequel in question is a slow burn romance from Mobei-Juns point of view that leans heavily into drama and political intrigue. He stands by Binghes side and quietly pines and remains loyal and Binghe slowly discovers that devoted loyalty and understanding is actually the thing that makes him happy (vs empty relationships with his many wives)

(Mobei Jun is written in a very grey-ace way, not understanding the carnal desires of other demons but would do anything for Junshang if asked etc etc)

SY ADORES this book and thinks that if it were posted online it would be his #1 favorite. He really relates to MBJ as a protagonist and Binghe is still the best!! And then he is completely blindsided when the two of them have tender emotional gay sex

Being SY, he absolutely tries to justify this to himself as like, aha,what a clever subversion...! You can tell because this sex scene was way better written then all the ones in PIDW, but obviously they aren't gay (He is too flustered to bring this up to Airplane in person despite having no problem doing so with the het stuff)

The novel ends with, like, Bingge sealing away Xin mo and promising to be just as loyal to his general as MBJ is to him, and is very obviously romantic to the point that even SY can't miss it. So he goes back and rereads it to make sure it was actually meant to be a romance (...danmei) novel all along. And then again just to make sure and he's kinda losing his mind a little because he really related to MBJ in this book and... MBJ had gay sex??

Of course you also have the "and they were roommates" situation going on at the same time. The rituals are intricate. Airplane is aware that's he's giving SY some kind of sexuality crisis but he has no idea how intense! He's genuinely fine having an unrequited crush on SY. Homoerotically teasing him is fun and it doesn't have to go further than that! Hes not really in a place to be doing any dating anyways and bro-cuddles have him covered!

Side note: I like the idea of SY being very proud when Airplane gains weight bc its Physical proof that he's taking good care of his friend and also maybe catering to what he finds attractive

When SY finally gets to the point where he asks about his sexuality, Airplane pretty much gives him the "I don't see a point in labels, I just like who I like" speech.

SY who loves categorizing and labeling things: can you do that?? Is that allowed??????

He then gets pointed to Baby's First LGBTQ resource website, and after determining that he's maybe not gay but maybe is something else immediately jumps into googling "how to date your best friend who is also your roommate"

[the-isekai-ninja]

Thinking about Kakashi moving in with you.

It's only been a few months since you started dating but every time he's been over he leaves another thing there. First it was some clothes, just so you had something that smelled like him when he was away.

Then a tooth brush and other small toiletries for when he's too tired to go home.

Then books you definitely didn't purchase start appearing on your shelf. On your coffee table. One you found under your bed.

Eventually you jokingly suggest he just moves in with you, but the puppy dog eyes he gives you at the suggestion makes you cave and that same night you and him are packing up his place and moving everything he owns over to yours.

Really, it would have made more sense for you to move in with him as his old place had way more space then your tiny townhouse but you have a wonderful balcony that shows an incredible landscape of Konoha he can't get enough of so it was a no brainer that sacrificing space for the view was worth it.

It doesn't really hit you until a week into it when things have settled. You had gotten an extra set of keys cut for everything and now Kakashi had his own designated spot on your key rack at the front door.

His food and drinks are in your fridge and pantry, extra glasses and plates from his house now shared the space with yours. Horribly mismatched but you wouldn't have it any other way.

His flak vest hangs over one of your dining chairs, too lazy to hang it up properly in a closet as it'll be put back on the very next morning.

Your laundry basket fills up faster now and doing laundry has his clothes mixed with yours. He folds the clean clothes with you as you chat about your day.

Showers he becomes a nightmare. He barges in without a care in the world, asking if he can join you. You've thrown a loofa at him a few times now, sometimes a shower needed to stay a shower and you were always too weak to say no when he started getting handsy.

He makes dinner and you sit at the counter as you watch him, a pink frilly apron you were jokingly gifted as a housewarming present now wrapped around his waist as he chops some veggies.

It's jarring the first time Gai came to visit, asking if Kakashi was home. It takes you a few seconds of gears turning in your head before you remember that yes, of course people would come to see kakashi here, he lives with you! Kakashi warns you later Gai was just being polite since this is still new, eventually he'll go back to barging in without a care in the world.

The nail on the coffin at how absolutely domestic all of this has become, is when you leave the bathroom to see Kakashi tucked into bed with a book in his hands. He's reading comfortably with a small light on and you can't help but stare. He's in a sweater as it's gotten colder and his mask is nowhere to be found. You stand there for an uncomfortably long time and finally Kakashi glances up to ask you what's wrong.

"You live with me." You announce, as if he wasn't aware of this fact.

He stares at you bewildered but it slowly turns into amusement, "Yes. Yes I do. Have for a few days now."

"You live with me." You state again, finally processing after a whirlwind week the meaning of this change.

Kakashi puts his book to the side to address you properly, "Yes? Is that...a problem...?"

A surge of excitement, love, and passion all bubble up inside of you at once and you fling yourself at Kakashi, catching the Copy Ninja off guard as you wrap your arms around his neck and pepper kisses against his cheek.

Kakashi is taken aback by the sudden action but recovers quickly and wraps his own arms around your torso, pulling you in close to himself as you continue to kiss his bare face. Cheeks, nose, mouth, chin, eyes. It's an onslaught that the ninja is unable to (and doesn't want to) stop.

You shove your face into his chest, nuzzling it in excitement. You peak up and give Kakashi a goofy grin, "You live with me!"

Kakashi gives you an incredulous look before a laugh erupts from his chest, shaking you as you lie on top of him. "I do!"

He kisses your forehead as he pulls you in even closer. You crawl over his lap and cup his face in your hands as you kiss him more.

You pull away to take him in. He's smiling at your antics as he rubs your back with one of his hands as the other slides up to caress your cheek. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve this." he confesses.

You squish his cheeks before pecking his lips, "Well it's a good thing it's not solely your decision."

He chuckles, "I suppose so. Thank you. You make me so happy you have no idea."

You huffed, "Kakashi I was so happy that you're here my brain short circuited and I tackled you just a few seconds ago, I have a small idea."

He pulls you in to kiss you again, this time with far more passion than the innocent kisses you had been giving out before. He flips you over to cage you against his body, one arm still wrapped around your waist as the other is used to keep himself hovering over you. "I love you."

You smile up at him, hands going to wrap around his neck again, "I love you too Kakashi. Forever and always."

"Forever and always." He replies back, leaning down to meet your lips again.

In a year, he will find his way back to his old family home and clean it up. When he proposes to you just a week later he'll take you there and tell you it's yours. You'll have to pack up again, say goodbye to the view of your balcony where the two of you spent many quiet nights enjoying each other's company.

Your plates still won't match, his flak vest now has a small space to hang at the front door, your laundry will still get fuller faster, and Kakashi will still try to sneak into your shower. Gai will barge into your home and Kakashi still loves making dinner in that silly pink apron because it makes you laugh.

You'll find you don't miss your small townhouse that could barely fit a second bookshelf because Kakashi has become your home, and you had become his. Wherever you two ended up, so long as you were together, you would be happy together.

[starsofang]

still thinking about johnny x extremely reserved!reader. ):

johnny was always the one to joke with you under normal circumstances. it had taken him a long time to even crack a smile out of you from some of his horrible one-liners, and even then, most of your smiles appeared similar to a grimace. over time, he came to learn that it was just how you preferred to smile until you could let out a true one, but he was as patient as ever.

however, the more time passed, the more the tables turned. you were starting to pull the jokes on him.

it threw him in for a complete loop the first time it happened. he was the one who started it, yet you finished it before he could make an attempt.

there was nothing special going on. you and johnny were seated in the common room, you propped much more politely than he was, while he rattled on about nonsense.

he never minded that you didn’t say much. you were always as quiet as could be. even now, you remained engrossed in your book but gave him an occasional hum to show you were listening, and that was enough for him.

johnny liked you. he wasn’t sure why, especially considering the thick, unbreakable wall you had built around yourself like a cocoon.

getting you to open up was like chipping away at a block of ice with an ice pick, only allowed one good swing each and every day. it was slow and tedious, requiring lots of patience. johnny had gotten you to smile before, sure, but he desired more. he wanted you to let loose, to reveal that silly side to you that was cowering away in the corner of your soul.

the first time it happened, johnny could’ve been mistaken for the damn sun with how much it lit him up.

“elephant would beat a lion in a fight,” johnny claimed to gaz, who had swiftly joined the two of you in the common room for the sole purpose of getting an answer to an unhinged question.

“you think an elephant would beat a lion?” gaz gawked. johnny grinned at him.

“aye, c’mon, lad, elephants are huge. and heavy.”

“and lions are the strongest predators in the wild,” gaz explained. “elephant stands no chance.”

the bicker between johnny and gaz continued while you sat silently reading your book, eyes darted downwards in attempts to avoid eye contact. you looked like your were deep in thought, perhaps even in a fit of mischief in johnny’s eyes when he’d sneak glances to you.

“why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?” you asked when gaz had stepped out of the room, leaving you two alone.

johnny’s head whipped in your direction, mouth parting as he stared at you. “what?”

you peeked up from your book, expression unreadable but johnny could decipher the faintest hint of amusement.

“why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?” you repeated. johnny huffed out a laugh, a cheeky grin curling on his face.

“why?” he mused.

“because they’re really good at it.”

the silence that filled the room was deafening. it had your mind reeling, wanting to crawl back into your shell and remain tucked away. but when johnny suddenly burst into bashful laughter, it put your mind at ease.

“did ye just make a joke, bonnie?” johnny exclaimed in excitement, unable to contain the unadulterated joy that poured out of him like a broken faucet.

“no,” you muttered in slight embarrassment, sinking into your seat.

johnny could tell it had taken a lot of courage for you to share such a silly thing with him, and it warmed his heart. he gained a reminder of why he had fallen for you all over again, and why he was working so damn hard to get you to see that you could trust him.

he couldn’t recall how long it had truly been of him picking apart the slow crumbling of your walls, but seeing you take initiative and try to get him to smile and laugh at a ridiculously cute joke, it was absolutely worth it. his patience would never thin if it meant seeing you crack open the jar of quips (that were definitely better than his own).

for my reserved queens, kings, and other lovely royalties because i am not bold or talkative nor do i show smile/expressions a lot, so this is your reminder that if you’re like meeee, then you’re still just as deserving for someone patient and understanding like johnny <3

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hiii new anon here! Is it possible to request the Hazbin Hotel boys with a wheelchair user reader? (It’s alright if not! I love your writing so much! Keep it up! 💖)

Hellooooooo new anon 💋 thanks for the request! And THANK YOUUU ILYSM AAAHH 💖🥹 you guys have really been hyping me up. AND IM AT 40 REQUESTS RN LIKE ??? HELLO HI WHAT IS HAPPENING 😵‍💫 I hope I did okay on this…enjoy~

Notes: gn!reader, sorry this is short :(

TW: lap sitting, other than that just fluff :)

Hazbin boys x wheelchair user!reader 🎀

Lucifer 🍎

Often tries to push you around everywhere. He just wants to help but if that bothers you, he’ll happily give you space to wheel yourself around.

Will still do other things to help you out too like open doors for you, adjust tables so you can sit at them comfortably, goes to get you something you might have forgotten just so you don’t have to push yourself all the way back to it.

Sorry but he’s gonna very randomly and very frequently sit in your lap. He likes it, it’s comfy and it’s always right there fully open for him. He’ll just fall into your lap, wrap his arms around your neck and nuzzle his face up to yours.

Very helpful with other things you may need help with like reaching things that are too high up or assisting you when you need to get out of your chair for any reason.

WILL ABSOLUTELY PICK YOU UP AND CARRY YOU SO TIGHTLY AS HE FLIES YOU TO WHEREVER YOU NEED TO GO

“Luci, babe…this is kinda extravagant, don’t you think? I just needed to go talk to Husk, I can get myself there just fine.”

“Yeah, but I get to touch you this way~”

What a flirt, omffggg ❤️‍🔥

Angel Dust 🕸️

So many dirty jokes and horrible pickup lines.

“Oooh, best seat in the house~” as he sits on your lap before covering your face in giggly kisses

“Yeah, I think they fucked up their legs fallin’ for me.”

“Fuck you, Angel!” And now he’s cracking up laughing while also apologizing.

He’s actually kinda a worry wart so he’s gonna check up on you a lot. He knows you’re strong and brave and you’re used to this by now but he can’t help but worry about you all the time.

He knows you can handle yourself but he worries about others picking on you and taking advantage of your disability

His fav pastime is sitting in your lap while you wheel yourself as fast as you can down the long hallways of the hotel

Sitting in your lap while you do wheelies gets him squealing with laughter

He also offers to push you pretty much every day and if you say yes, he happily takes over while you sit back and relax. If you say no, he totally understands and follows along beside you still.

Very much understands any boundaries you have about you and your mobility. Hes a consent king okay?

Although he never asks before he grabs the handles of your chair and yanks you all the way back until you’re nearly parallel with the sky, then he smirks down at you before leaning in for a hot and passionate kiss. Not too long later, he sits you back up to your regular position and continues on his way, leaving you a blushing mess with your heart beating so hard you think you might die again.

And he never gets over the shocked face you wear every time he does that. He loves that shit 🩷

Husk 🃏

Okay this guy is so nonchalant about it like “okay cool…and?”

He sees that you are used to this, that you handle this with such grace and skill. You impress him everyday and he adores youuu~

Will often offer to help you up on the barstools if your chair is too low to reach the bar.

Holds doors for you, always runs to push the elevator button for you, just likes to go out of his way to be a gentleman for you.

Even if you insist you don’t need his help, he’ll argue, “Baby, you’re my partner. I think my love language is acts of service or some shit like that. I dunno, I tried to read the book and got tired. But I love ya so you’re just gonna have to get used to me and how I show love. Trust me, I’d do this stuff no matter what.”

He’s honestly just such a polite and considerate guy when it comes to you. He doesn’t never mean to be overbearing or treat you different, he just wants you to be comfortable so he always tries to push you around.

“Husky, I can push myself.” You sigh as he takes hold of the handles on your chair and brings you along to the bar with him.

“I know you can.” And he’s just smirking from behind you as you roll your eyes.

And his pace will slow for a sec as he leans over to kiss the top of your head.

He just really loves when he’s pushing you and he sees your head tilt back and your shoulders relax- you just seem calm

Sir Pentious 🐍

Homeboy is absolutely gonna try to invent and build cool shit for you. Mostly just cool add-ons to your chair like something to make it smoother or faster or more sturdy or even add a cup holder? Idk

If you ask him not to push you around, you will not have to tell him twice 🫡 he respects you and your boundaries

Buuttttt he is often seen resting one hand on the handle of your chair as he slithers along beside you throughout the hotel

He just wants to be touching you in some way and touching your chair is enough for him.

Loves to come bounding up to you with exciting new projects he’s working on and will wrap his entire self around you as he shows you his work

“Pen? Can you push me back to my room? I’m just so tired…” you ask him after a long day of helping out around the hotel therefore a long day of pushing yourself around.

He’s actually so excited and full of love rn, like he’s beaming with joy as he nods and rushes to you.

“Yesssssss, my darling! Anything for you~”

And he’s so fucking careful with you- we all know Sir Pentious is a clutz and a goofball but he is so extra cautious when pushing you around.

Makes sure not to bump your feet or knees or any other part of you into anything.

Goes sooooooo slow over any bumps, humps or ledges.

Asks like 457 times if you’re okay and smiles everytime you say “Yes, babe. I’m good. Thanks.”

Vox 🖥️

Does not mean to offend but he tells you he would happily build something that could have you up and walking with ease.

If you’re down to try, he’s more than happy to experiment!

If you’re more than happy staying in your chair, he completely understands but still tries to give your chair some upgrades.

Adds a phone to your chair so you can always contact him

Also watches your every move everywhere you go through his cams bc he doesn’t want some dickhead to think they can take advantage of you

Loves when you come into his work room where all his screens are bc it’s a bit crammed in there so it can be hard to get your chair around. Therefore, Vox loves to pick you up and sit you in his lap while he works.

He’ll press soft kisses to your neck and let his claws travel up and down your arms as you melt into him

And when you finally ask to go back to your chair, it turns into a playful fight.

“Aww, (Y/N). I was just getting comfy. What if I just keep you here.” As he hugs you tight, speaking in a teasing tone.

“Vox, I swear to Satan! You better put me back in my chair right now or-“

“Noooo~ I don’t think so.”

And he just continues to enjoy your company even as you pout and huff.

Alastor 🩸

Always uses his shadow or his tentacles to lift you up and whisk you around.

Doesn’t ever really ask for permission or even warn you before he picks you up and carries you to and from your chair.

“Oh! Alastor. I can do it on my own. Really, I’m fine.”

“Nonsense, sweetheart. The pleasure is all mine. What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t assist my love with getting around?”

He doesn’t have much of a filter, nor does he understand boundaries or personal space

So he will just grab ahold of you and wheel you around to his hearts content regardless of your protests.

One time, he unexpectedly rolled you up to his radio tower, wearing a particular cheery smile.

“Come, dear! I’m just about to start my podcast. Care to join me~?” He holds his hand out to you from across the room, waiting for your okay

As you give him a nod, his shadow lifts you and carries you to him as he sits at his desk, you being lowered down onto his lap soon after.

“Lucky you! Up close and personal for tonight’s show. Aww, and look at those flushed cheeks! What a doll you are~”

Alastor loves to sit you in his lap and then make fun of how flustered you get. It doesn’t happen often, him getting all close and touchy with you so when it does happen, you always panic and start stuttering.

He really gets a kick out of you being in a less than ideal situation and not being able to get out of it without him letting you. He’s a sick fuck, what’d you expect? He does it out of love~ ❤️‍🔥

[pureanonofficial]

Babes I'm new to chess, why do we hate the Danny strong book?

So this my personal opinion; other people have historically loved the Danny Strong book! Thus far, I have not.

I do want to preface my opinion by saying that thus far, the Strong book has only been seen in workshops. I love Beetlejuice the musical; had I encountered the D.C. workshop first instead of the Broadway remount, I would not have believed it could be good. Long history of musicals absolutely sucking in workshops and then turning out okay on Broadway.

For me, I have hated the Strong book so far because of its its characterization choices, dated political jokes, efforts to make the show a political thriller, and its absolutely abhorrent and offensive depiction of mental illness. For ease, I refer to the 2018 Kennedy Center production as Kencen, and the 2022 concert as Choncert.

For starters, characterization in Chess has always been mutable. There is no such thing as OOC when it comes to Chess, only choices I like less than others. However, I do think the characterization choices in Strong Chess make the show weaker. Freddie ends up coming off as the most sympathetic character, which Should Not Be. Anatoly struggles with depression and paranoia in this book, which could be really interesting, except he's a boring dick. He has no charm; it's just all paranoia and depression. He tells us in the first act that his wife was spying on him, which turns out to be a lie, and he refuses to believe she loved him even as she is begging him because their children might get sent to the gulag. Florence describes him as sweet and kind and thoughtful, and this is not evident in this slightest. Florence is very girlboss emotionally mature which is...very not Florence or especially interesting. She is the caretaker for Freddie, and in Choncert, she does something that immediately tanks all sympathy for her.

She steals Freddie's psychiatric meds, causing him to spiral and lose the match. The show does not dig into this, nor bring it up again. It's just a baffling choice to give your supposed sympathetic female lead.

In addition, Florence/Anatoly falls completely flat in a new, unique way than previous Chesses. In Choncert, there is a whole scene about them having an affair in Rome a couple years before canon (while Anatoly was married and Florence was with Freddie) and they sing YOU AND I LIKE THIRTY MINUTES INTO ACT ONE??? INSANE??? YOU DO NOT DESERVE THAT SONG YET. This further tanks my liking of these characters, as they've both been carrying on behind their partners' backs for years. Here is a video of One Night In Rome.

https://www.tumblr.com/hellyrigs/703512439768121344/the-new-scene-in-chess-dec-12-2022-one-night?source=share

Because of these changes, Freddie comes across as the most sympathetic main character??? Somehow?? He's explicitly struggling with mental illness here, either schizophrenia/bipolar depending on whether it's Kencen/Choncert (we'll get to that.) He's introduced singing A Taste of Pity by himself while struggling from a panic attack, and Florence shows up and tells him "You have to take your pills, Freddie." His paranoia is actually objectively correct here, as the Soviets ARE using underhanded tactics to get him to lose, and Florence IS cheating on him with Anatoly. You should never, ever make Freddie justified and correct in Chess. When you've done that, something has gone wrong. I don't think it's a coincidence that when Kencen sparked a little surge of Chess content, it was disproportionately about Freddie. This was definitely because of Raul Esparza's charisma, but Ramin Karimloo has an even more rabid fanbase, and there was very little Anatoly content. He's also not as horribly misogynistic and abusive here as he is in other Chesses (you can even read it as Florence abusing him, which. What. What is happening.) Yet, despite the fact that he's softened, the other characters are even WORSE to him than usual. Florence is extremely aggressive and non-sympathetic about his mental health issues from the very start of the show (the pill stealing is just the icing on the cake) Florence straight up tells him in act two that "You're incapable of love. You can't even love yourself," which is just. In a Chess where Freddie is properly an asshole, sure, say that! In THIS? It just all hits really bad.

I also haven't dug into how Svetlana's depiction makes Anatoly even worse. He says she was spying on him, accuses her of brainwashing his children to hate him, yet when we see her, the first thing she talks about is how much of a nightmare life for the past four years has been. Molokov threatens to lock her children in an orphanage and send her to die in a Siberian gulag if she fails to bring Anatoly home. She tries so hard--and all Anatoly does is call her a liar and say she never loved him. It makes him extremely unsympathetic.

I haven't even begun to dig into the dialogue yet. Dialogue in Chess has rarely been its strong point (in all my dealings with Florence, I never once made one good move) but it's rarely been boring. Tim Rice has a very distinctive awkward janky style to his dialogue that is kinda charming, even if it's not good. Richard Nelson, the Broadway libretto writer, is genuinely excellent at expressing character with dialogue. Chess pa Svenska, which had a new Swedish libretto written by Björn Ulvaeus, Lars Rudolfsson, and Jan Mark, has a scene so good it could fully stand alone as a ten minute play. Danny Strong's dialogue however...does not work for me. Here are a couple of actual lines from Strong. These were all painstakingly transcribed by me.

The Arbiter: Welcome to the the first -- and depending on how tonight goes -- last Cold War musical. On this very stage you will encounter chess grandmasters, CIA operatives, Thai prostitutes, and Ronald Reagan. Not necessarily in that order. At times our story may seem ludicrous. Sometimes it is. After all, this is a musical. But I should warn you some of this crazy shit actually happened.

"He was a child chess prodigy by the age of eleven. Which may or may not have lead to clinical narcissism and undiagnosed bipolar disorder."

Freddie: Where have you been? I need you. I love you, and I need you. Florence: Yeah, til you're feeling normal, now take your pills! Freddie: No!

Freddie: By superior training, I'm assuming that you're referring to fact that they're snatched from their families as little kids? Then trained like rats in a cage their entire childhood? The Communist system is as cruel to its chess players as it is to its people. Florence: Come on Freddie, let's go. Freddie: No, I'm fine, I'm fine. With Anatoly Sergievsky, the KGB is going to make him disappear just like Boris Ivanovich. A grandmaster vanishes off the face of the planet, and you don't even care about it because you're too busy bashing me! (Music stops) Freddie: Sporting? Are the Communists sporting? And you call me crazy! Well fuck you! Fuck you all, big and small.

Freddie: I don't blame my father for leaving, but I still hate him for it. Anatoly: He doesn't deserve Florence, she's too good for him. Freddie: I really do love her, I just don't know how to show it. Anatoly: I wish I could feel warmth. I wish I could feel anything at all. Freddie: I'd give it all to just not have my blood race all the time, to not think the walls are being bugged, to not think the KGB is trying to blow up my plane, I can't trust anybody. Anatoly: I've been a prisoner of chess all my life. I never had a childhood. I don't want to go home because I have no home. I have no identity. Freddie: I'm not evil, she [???] I'm not a human being. Anatoly: I can't beat him, he's too good. Freddie: He can't beat me, I'm too good. Molokov: Yes Anatoly, play with his mind. Freddie: Don't fall for his cheap mindgames. Florence: Don't fall for it Freddie, he's desperate Walter: Cue the light buzzing. Freddie: Ignore the light buzzing. Anatoly: I dream of home and freedom. I dream of defecting, but I'm too much of a coward to defect. Freddie: I was the US champion at age eleven. Probably should have locked up my chessboard. I hate chess. I hate life scratching me. I wanna die. Anatoly: I wanna die. I don't know my children nor my wife, I never have, just as my parents knew me. Walter: Louder! Freddie: Buzzing. Florence: Damn it! Molokov: He made a mistake, it's working Anatoly. Walter: Louder!

Florence: I don't know, baby, I have a bad feeling about this interview. You should pull out. Anatoly: If I don't do it, it will look like I'm afraid of him. Florence: He's gonna come after you. He still wants to be in the game, even if he's not playing you, he still wants to play you. Anatoly: We both know why he's here. He wants to get you back. Florence: The last thing in the world I want is Freddie Trumper. You don't have do this interview to prove anything to me. Anatoly: I have to do this interview to prove to the world that I'm not here by a forfeit. Florence: Oh God, it's happening again! Anatoly: What is? Florence, continuing to make Choices: My life is being destroyed by chess, why can't I love a banker or a gardener or anybody else. Anatoly: You're all I want. I promise. Anddddd the championship Florence: Of course.

I just find this dialogue to be very bland, boring, and at times like a bootleg Joss Whedon. It's all kinda like this--too jokey and cynical and not genuine. I find it very jarring. Whatever Chess has been throughout its history, it has always been genuine. I feel like all these lines are written for the most immediate reaction, for the punchline, as opposed to building something true and beautiful.

Let's compare two similar sections of dialogue, one from Danny Strong, one from Richard Nelson.

Walter: It's not what I want, it's what I have to give. A video! I think you'll enjoy. Freddie: Unless it's lesbian porn, I'm not interested. vs Reporter: What a beautiful suite! What do you think of Budapest so far, Mr. Trumper? Freddie: Anyone with legs like that can call me Freddie. (She uncrosses her legs.) That’s a joke, okay? (He gets up.) Jesus Christ, you been here how long? A couple of days! And already you’ve lost your sense of humor. See what Communism does to you?

One of these is a punchline. It's a quick quip that doesn't really tell you anything more about the character. It doesn't come up again. Freddie harassing the reporter tells us a lot about him. He wants her to like him, he wants praise, he wants to be puffed up. He wants her to laugh at his jokes, and he wants to be told he's funny. He wants proof that he can get a woman after Florence walked out on him. Meanwhile, I don't think the lesbian porn moment tells us anything other than that Freddie watches lesbian porn. A lot of the moments in the show are like this. Quips are not inherently bad--but the whole show is mostly made out of quips.

I also really really really hate how this show handles politics and political humor. The 2022 Choncert leaned really hard on (now dated) political humor mostly from The Arbiter, including jokes about Freddie's last name. It had a big imbalance of jokes over drama, and they again, never felt genuine.

This show is also just extremely extremely MURICA in how it handles the Soviet Union, far more than the actual original American production literally written during the Cold War. The Soviet Union in this production is a CARTOON--Anatoly is frequently threatened or worried about being killed if he loses at chess. The Russian chess champion before him, Boris Ivanovich, is heavily implied to have been killed for losing to Trumper. Strong. Buddy. You can look up what happened to the famous 1980s Russian chess players. Most of them are still alive in Russia! Even the ones who defected didn't get disappeared! They didn't get sent to the Chess Player Vat!

The stakes also just become RIDICULOUS in this version. We begin with chess players getting murdered for being bad at chess, and we end with RUSSIA MOBILIZING THEIR MILITARY BECAUSE ANATOLY WINS THE CHAMPIONSHIP. In this universe, the outcomes of SALT II and the 1983 nuclear weapon crisis are explicitly impacted by fucking chess!! SALT II falls apart because Anatoly defects!!! It's so stupid!!!! It ends up making it so that the Soviet Union is willing to nuke the world because they lost at chess. A large part of the second act involves the US doing training exercises that the USSR see as a threat, so they demand Anatoly lose at chess, or else they mobilize. It is so stupid!!!! Just such bad history!!!

The timeline and characters of the show are also negatively impacted by the increased focus on politics! We now have a four year time gap over intermission, from 1979 to 1983, and it sure doesn't feel like it with the characters. It's jarring because with the emotional state of the characters, it feels like it's been a couple months, not four years. And a couple months can work in Chess! But not if it's really four years, and we haven't put in the work to understand how the characters would necessarily change because of it. Molokov is now really high up in the KGB, and he's just a cartoon. Walter comes across as a better person because he is the one in the Waltokov relationship going "holy shit let's not blow up the world because of chess." The dynamic of the KGB and CIA being equally bad is utterly lost. Politics take focus over people in this Chess, and not for the better in the slightest.

Especially because Florence gets her dad back??? It's so so so jarring because it's a really out of place happy ending, and her father was not a focus for this Florence. Long Beach Chess made Florence getting her dad back work, but that was with very specific choices. This Chess has not made those choices. We also just do not have any emotional attachment to her father, so this big happy ending just falls utterly flat.

Now we get to the part of the show that makes me actually angry. The depiction of mental illness with Freddie Trumper. Everything else, I do not like, but it just makes me roll my eyes. The mental illness stuff makes me blindingly angry. By giving Freddie a diagnosed, specific illness, now it comes across like his asshole behavior is exclusively because of that illness, that Florence is right to leave her mentally ill partner who can barely function without her. He loses the first match because of sensory issues (he can't focus with the lights buzzing.) His medication is treated as a magic trick that automatically fixes him (he takes his pills and instantly calms down.)

And again!!! Florence steals his pills!!! She takes his vital medication from him!!! Here is a video of that.

https://www.tumblr.com/hellyrigs/703555453692624896/another-bad-moment-from-chess-dec-12-2022-no?source=share

Also the two productions thus far have alternatively described him as bipolar or schizophrenic, and they write him the exact same with both, so they're just flat up conflating two different mental illnesses without any care.

Danny Strong won an Emmy for Dopesick; listening to his Chess, it's hard to believe he knows how drugs work.

There are a few things I like in Strong Chess. Opening with US vs USSR is a striking choice, certainly better than starting with Story of Chess. Freddie hitting Florence with "Do you wanna fuck him?" right before Budapest is Rising is effective. Florence risking getting deported if she doesn't keep Freddie in line has the potential to be compelling.

However, I just hate it. I don't like it. I wish it wasn't the book for the revival. Again, they could fix it, it could be better. But here are my reservations as of now. I also worry that this will become the New Fandom Chess, or that this version could replace previous productions in licensing. I doubt those things would happen, but I still fear them.

But fundamentally, we'll just have to see what happens!

[notedchampagne]

What makes a tlt au work for you? Do u have any favourites out there/that you’ve thought of?

its hard because it can go down to the writing! i have a huge bias for things that put focus on the characters acting awful and driving the story forward- if a story has a plot thats great, but its the difference between "gideon and harrow keep meeting up at parties and fall a little bit in love every time" and "gideons angry she lost her childhood to the cult so she attends a party with the tridentarii to shotgun adolescent experiences, and harrowhark, frustrated that gideon is pulling on her metaphorical leash, follows to stalk her". the former retains a 5+1 fic format and is more bite-size, while the latter puts more focus into their growth as characters. im not great at articulating what i like specifically, but ill put my favorite fics below:

what if nona was dogs tugs at my heart: its post-canon, slice-of-life, and has a unique concept (said in the title). i judged a book by its cover because i thought the premise seemed too silly at first but ive been made a fool and its pet clown. it feels so true to nona the way its about all the things nona loves and how she gets to explore the world through new eyes. i love the way it explores characters softening up and getting hurt through a third person pov

we have always lived in the apartment by @thatneoncrisis i keep saying this but for the love of GOD guys this au is so good it makes me cry and feel such a deep catharsis from it. it takes gideon and harrow and the ninth as a cult and explores their struggle to adapt to a modern society when noone ever gets a break (WOW ITS JUST LIKE IN REAL L-). quinn writes the sides of griddlehark i think go overlooked in fanfic often: their codependency, their tendency to lash out when theyre defensive, their mutual paranoia and different coping mechanisms, harrows psychosis and gideons bitterness, their relationships to each other as being the only other person who really understands what the other suffered through. god. i feel lightheaded.

"but SAM, i dont like angst but i want to see this writing!" read gap between a tragedy and a comedy

"SAM, i also like when gideon and harrow are horrible because theyre maladjusted teenagers! but i want more antics where the characters drive things forward over angst!" read whats eating gideon nav

you just aint receiving is one of my FAVORITE modern aus of all time (and i heavily recommend the authors other fics as well!) if you really want to see how much i love this fic the fact that my comments take up the entire phone screen probably says a lot. its hard to put it concisely: it keeps harrows air of misanthropy and cruelty but redefines it as the result of her upbringing and personal struggle to live in a university while dealing with a backpack of mental illness and frustration. it changes gideons personality as the daughter of john gaius in a way that makes sense having her grow up with johns middling parenting skills and getting everything she ever wanted (connecting it back to kirionas personality in ntn!). it brings in side characters (specially palamedes. my beautiful boy palamedes) in ways that compliment harrow and gideon but not so obviously that they only exist to be supports. they have their own lives and ideals. its a modern au that brings in the boiling politics of johns cult uprising once again in a really novel way

semi charmed kinda life by @griddlebait. jesuchristo and all his middle names this fic is GREAT for you if you want a slice of life, coming of age type modern au that explores what its like for gideon and harrow if they actually got the space to see who theyd become outside of the stifling fate tlt has for them. as far as modern aus go im usually very hesitant to read them because im afraid modernizing the characters takes features away from their core but i really love and respect the way the author treats the 69ers with care and draws distinct lines that shows me how their grow and change while keeping a line to the anchor. also they write HIDEOUS (complimentary) PINING. DISGUSTING. some of these chapters were so chock full of dyke drama that they made me nauseous and whimsical. i think once a friend said this fic felt like if gh could be reincarnated and i like that descriptor a lot

til the cows come home is another postcanon fic that made me feel sick and crybabyish about it- i would definitely recommend it if you want to explore a happier ending with griddlehark! with this and what if nona was dogs the thing i like most about them is that they mix up vulnerability with pain and fear, so it feels more lifelike that way if that makes sense. i lost my taste in fluff fics over time but when its interspersed with struggle and characters causing problems because they cant cope with themselves it feels much more earnest and raw

this became very long. im not sorry

[ineffectualdemon]

Separating Art from the Artist doesn't mean "I'm going to ignore everything this person has ever done in their life and pretend they are a pure good person"

It means when evaluating the work on its technical and artistic merits, you need to separate from your opinion of the artist as a person (good or bad) from the actual work

It's an exercise in looking past your bias both negative "this person kicked a puppy!" And positive "this person saved a puppy!"

It's about not rating art down just because the artist is someone you dislike but also not rating up art just because you like the artist

It's also one part in the process in dealing with art critically

Let's say an artist painted flowers

He also is a serial cheater

His cheating has nothing to do with how well he painted those flowers on a technical level

You can call the painting well done with good use of colour and light and it's not endorsing his cheating

Similarly if someone who is well known as the nicest guy in the world creates a dog shit painting to be judged, then judging it on artistic merits and finding it lacking is not attacking their character

Because the truth is bad people can make good art and it's fine to find the work objectively good and appreciate it for what it is separate from the artist on a technical and artistic level

Now there is a point when you're going to have to take into account the person who made it but that's a different step in critical analysis. That also doesn't mean you have to throw out their work and never touch it again

It means engaging with it critically

I have said it before but a series of books that was important to me as a child I read again after finding out some really horrible stuff the author (David Endings) did to his adopted children (who luckily were taken off him and he and his wife were banned from having children)

And I read it critically. I could see why I enjoyed it. The dialogue was witty and fun. The political intrigue was intriguing. The battle scenes were exciting and descriptive .

It was well written. That is separating the art from the artist. The books were well written and entertaining. I can say that honestly

HOWEVER I hadn't read these books in a very long time and I was reading them critically. And yeah how he wrote children was... uncomfortable. It wasn't full on but there are parts that I brushed off as being set in fantasy medieval time period as "what parents might have done" when I was a kid. But as an adult with more education it was...not great.

But that's not what I noticed the most. What I noticed more was the racism, particularly against Asians, and rampant antisemitism in the books. It was so in your face I was surprised I didn't really notice it as a kid. And to be honest I couldn't even get to the end of the series I was reading because it was so intensely racist.

I probably won't read them again because it was so full on racist.

Saying that I have also read Sherlock Holmes critically. They are again well written. They also have racist storylines and characters pop up. I still can, and do, read them. What makes it different? Well the time period when it was written makes a difference. I expect a book written in in the late 1800s by a well off white man to be racist. Also it is considerably less racist then Eddings. With Sherlock Holmes stories a racist bit will pop up occasionally and I will go "ah. Racism. Duly noted"

With Eddings it was racism stacked on racism with added racism and a sprinkling of child abuse for added flavour

Bad people make good art

Sometimes the shit they did that means they aren't a great person has nothing to do with their art.

Like a guy who cheats but also draws sick ass dragons

Those aren't related. You don't have to be faithful to draw a sick ass dragon.

And sometimes it does.

Like a guy who cheats who built his entire career about how much he loves monogamy and being faithful and has that as major themes in his work. His actions will have a major affect on how his work is seen

But also if you own idk a painting by that person that you got for your wedding to symbolise you and your spouses devotion to each other. You can still see it that way if you want to. Because it has meaning to you separate from the artist who made it.

I think you have to accept that sometimes things you love are made by people you don't like. Don't put creators and artists on pedestals and don't tie the emotions that their creations gave you to them being "good"

[softboo]

love me, ever so gently

pairing: austin butler x reader

summary: you recently moved to a new apartment, making new some eccentric friends along the way. but what you didn't expect was falling in love with a stranger. a stranger you somehow couldn't stop thinking about

words: 2.1k

warnings: depictions of domestic abuse, dark themes of relationships

author's note: i made this on an extremely impulsive whim and i have never been so terrified of posting this. my anxiety of trying to make this story went from writing this for three days straight to now suddenly having multiple parts. i'm literally almost done with part III so we'll see how far this goes. hopefully you like my very first fic... i haven't written in years... ehh... and thank you in advance for reading this :3

next part

part I

"you're either incredibly talented or horribly lousy."

george stated right before you tore down the stack of books from the pile. you groaned in frustration, ignoring that thing buried right under the surface of your heart. if bookstores and libraries could make something aesthetically pleasing, then so could you. just like you were able to do a year ago.

you huffed once more before starting the process over again.

george took your silence as a precautionary warning, tentatively placing a small cup of coffee next to you, hoping maybe a little space and some caffeine couldn't hurt your pride more than he did.

"as long as you don't make a mess, it makes my job a thousand times easier," he offered you a toothy, yet slightly lopsided grin before leaving you to your uncomplicated complicated endeavors.

george circled around the remaining tables that were also still being set up for the fair at the community center. you were a regular volunteer for these events, moreso because your neighbors invited you to them in the first place. one of your neighbors being george, who hobbled right back to where you were, smiling proudly at his empty tray.

"well, my services are done."

he flashed another innocent grin before leaving you be, "make sure you get that done before cass sees you!"

"george I'm going to throw this empty tray at you."

he let out a belly laugh, even though he was as thick as a twig. he pulled you over to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"there she is!"

you rolled your eyes at him, but couldn't help a smile. you still remember when you met him for the first time.

~ ~

your first week at the new apartment building was stressful enough, splitting your belongings in each individualized box and suitcase. and somehow through all that stress, someone as joyous as george just so happened to crash right into you with all of his groceries.

and he had this distinct smell, something between a book you haven't opened in years and an old worn out knitted sweater. at the time, he greeted you like you've been friends for years, something you deeply missed when you moved away from your hometown. from everyone.

"welcome to the neighborhood!!" he screamed in your ear, forgetting his hearing aids before he left for the store. you let out a polite, yet awkward, kind of laugh, thanking him for his very enthusiastic greeting. it's funny to look back on it now, a stranger you would've never imagined becoming friends with. including everyone else you met along the way.

~ ~

evelyn and cassandra peered from the hallway behind you, coming from the kitchen. cassandra with her big box of jewelry for her stand, while evelyn followed suit.

"did george call me cass again? i hate when he calls me cass. it sounds like ass."

"because you are an ass."

cassandra shot him a quick glaring look before he started laughing again, placing her boxes down. she pointed a shaky finger at him.

"you know one of these days, i really hope i end up dying before you. i can't stand that laugh of yours." she grumbled, which made you laugh.

"can't keep a happy man down cass. you're stuck with me forever," he bellowed, leaving a messy kiss on her cheek before she swatted him away. george dramatically saluted them before hobbling away again, wanting to mingle and socialize before the fair officially opens.

cassandra gathered her things once more as she eyed your table with a sense of pride.

"you never cease to amazing me sweetie. i always love how you decorate your books."

her words swelled in your heart and that thing that was buried right under the surface dissipated, only just for a moment. and you were completely and utterly okay with that.

"thanks cassie..." your voice drifting ever so softly. like she was going to catch it in the end like she always does.

~ ~

when you met cassandra last year, you heard her voice before you saw her. you were seated at the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for a blind date that never picked you up. it was about two hours before you decided to call it and when you looked up, you saw her.

she was a bright eyed woman, her grey hair tossed behind a small pink scarf, something you've only seen worn a few times or rather only in movies. she looked at you with a look of concern. you weren't crying of course, why waste tears on some stranger right?

but you got your hopes up immensely high and someone as experienced in her years as she was, she could tell a disappointed look when she saw one.

"oh my dear, what's the matter? are you hurt?"

you shook your head no, having no energy to formally respond with a voice.

"come here love, let's bring you back home. do you live here?"

you nodded.

she waddled her way towards you, keeping you close to her. she was a tiny woman, hunched over slightly as she led you to the elevator. once you were both inside, she asked what floor you were on and pressed the appropriate button for you. her floor being the one below yours.

"sorry we have to stop at mine first..." she began and you shook her head to stop her.

"don't be. it's okay... i was heading up anyway." you finally had strength to talk again, "i should be saying sorry for keeping you from getting home."

she scoffed at your response, displaying one of the warmest smiles you've ever seen.

"sweetie, you're doing me a favor."

the elevator dinged and opened to her floor, the woman turning to walk out.

"i am?" you asked her and she nodded, standing outside the elevator doors.

"yes. because no man deserves to make someone as lovely as you this sad."

your face went from feeling defeated to utter confusion as the woman smiled again. this time knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

"i know disappointment when i see it."

and just like that, the elevator door closed.

~ ~

"how are you feeling otherwise?" cassandra asked you, momentarily glancing over at your beautiful table.

"better. only sometimes," you responded, a lump suddenly appearing in your throat. feeling as if you were half lying somewhere.

"that's okay. just remember that someone who's broken you then doesn't deserve to break you now," she gently held your cheek, looking at you as if for the first time again.

"and besides, who knows who you'll might meet today."

~ ~

cassandra's words rung in your ears, weighing heavy on a hopelessly romantic heart. being alone was easy and you weren't lying if you admitted that to anyone because it was true. that was one of the perks of moving here, along with meeting all of your new friends.

but being lonely... that was difficult. especially when the fall season would blend into the holidays. one night after the other. because everyone seemed to find their someone by the times gifts were supposed to be given. which is why you wanted to put everything into the community fair this year.

and because heartbreak anniversaries were apparently a thing on your calendar.

you glanced over at your table, the last few books lingered for awhile. some people glancing over at them, while others would pick it up just to place it back down again. you didn't really know why seeing a book not being chosen hurt a small part of you. but it did.

or maybe you knew but didn't want to face it.

soon enough, you noticed someone hovering near the entrance, like he was contemplating whether or not to let his curiousity get the best of him. it may have been a little more than an hour or so when he actually approached your table.

you quickly stood up in response, as you noticed him eyeing a few of the older books. his hands lingered on each cover, not saying a word. his hair was blonde, wavy and messy, like he'd just woken up. the rest of him was covered by a black mask.

you did notice the way his hands moved though, hesitating to pick something. shaking a bit, a shadow crossed your peripheral and you could've sworn you saw a bruise somewhere on his knuckles.

"do you need help finding anything?" your voice coming out a lot softer than you had hoped. he looked up and you felt this entire weight lift off of you. like something encapsulating you just shattered into a million pieces and suddenly you could breathe again.

his eyes were so blue, like you were swimming in this endless ocean full of life and somehow you couldn't tell the difference between the stillness of the water or the blueness of the sky.

you could see a slight smiling forming on his face before he shook his head no.

"oh well if you want anything... i really recommend any of the classics."

his eyes glimmered a bit, letting his hand linger on one of the few books he was eyeing before.

"how much is it?" his deep tone caught you by surprise as you hesitated to respond. your own voice catching in your throat.

"oh um... everything is free."

"really?"

and just like that, you noticed something switch in him, a sense of curiosity filling those calm waters.

"which ones have you read so far?"

you didn't realize it, but your eyes lit up at the question. and he noticed. a small smile forming on his face.

"oh this one is my favorite... i haven't finished it, but it was really good from where i left off," you pointed at pride and prejudice.

you smiled at him, like your excitement was taking over and he could tell how much you loved talking about books. his gaze never wavering as you spoke about the stories that overwhelmed you and the others that never lasted a few pages before you decided to stop. he listened with such intent, such intrigue, it made you feel like you were someone he had known for years.

his aura was beautiful and a part of you wished that something would lead to something which would lead to something else. you didn't even feel anything in that regard, not yet anyway, but that same part. it was pulling... gently. ever so gently tugging at your heart.

"thank you for all of your recommendations," he began, holding on to ever single book you spoke about. you were about to protest that he didn't have to, but he was adament on keeping every single one.

"are you sure you want to get all of them?" your voice wavering on worry, but all he did was smile at you, letting out a soft laugh.

"i'm sure."

his voice was so reassuring, you almost forgot to offer him a bag. there was a slight pause before you realized, eyes widened in embarrassment.

you quickly apologized to him, running to the back to get a bag. you left the table feeling this overwhelming warmness flow through you as you noticed your heart beating against your chest. you tried to hide the excitement, but your heart was already getting your hopes too high.

but when you came back, your heart instantly dropped right into your stomach. a woman was now standing next to him, but something was different in his eyes. the oceans were no longer waves crashing against the seashore. they were climbing under thunderstorms. drowning in its own current.

her hair was dark red in color, flowing to accentuate the curves of her body. she was unbelievably gorgeous and your heart sank even more. but there was something about her that you couldn't figure out.

"here's your bag, i didn't mean to—"

"why your table is absolutely gorgeous, isn't it austin?"

he didn't glance at you or her or anyone. all he did was nod. you noticed the grip she had on his arm. it was tight. suffocating.

you offered the bag to them, but she shooed your hand away, like you were merely just a bug.

"no need sweetie, we were just on our way out. he was just looking anyway."

you tried your best to keep your composure, but you were fuming on the inside. only cassandra could call you that and at least when she did, it was endearing. not spiteful.

she flashed you the biggest smile that fueled your fire even more as she pulled austin away. you noticed him stiffen when they left the table. he couldn't even look at you.

and he couldn't even say goodbye.

[scarlet-m00ns]

I am losing my mind waiting for the golden raven so here are my predictions/hopes:

Jeremy’s younger brother reveal (dead or alive) If dead I’m leaning towards the OD theory but when I first read tsc I thought it would have something to do with driving

Jean meets one or all of Jeremy’s family (probably Bryson) and is instantly hostile when he sees how they treat Jeremy

Kevin brings Neil and Andrew with him to the interview

Kevin will do all the talking but the interviewer will ask Jean a question directly and he’ll say something unintentionally rude

Jeremy watching Kevin and Jean interacting like a tennis match trying to work out the relationship because they argue like exs

Lucas and Jean make up/tentative friendship (I want Lucas to be redeemed)

Hugs/Jean initiating a hug (please)

Jeremy and Neil beef

The opposite with Jeremy and Andrew idk why I think they’d have mutual respect but also they wouldn’t speak to each other ever. Jeremy being polite and Andrew staring him down so he backs away slowly

Jealous Jeremy!

Andrew speaking multiple words!!!

Jeremy finds out about the Moriyama’s or at least suspects even if Jean won’t confirm (yet)

Cody/Ananya/Pat

Jean tells Jeremy his sister is dead and they bond over dead siblings…

Elodie is not dead (shut up let me be in denial) maybe the fbi find her during their investigation (probably book 3)

JereJean kiss but that’s it. Jean ends up pushing him away and then Jeremy feels guilty

When they do get together there will be a lot of rumours that Jean is ‘up to his old tricks again’

Jeremy punching someone for suggesting Jean is sleeping his way to the top

Chaos at the banquet

Cat teaching Jean to ride a motorbike as promised

Jean saying ‘have a winning day’ all deadpan and the others finding it hilarious

The first game will go terribly with Jean using Raven tactics and not being able to control his temper (gets a red card) As captain Jeremy has to ‘reprimand’ him but can’t do it, it’s like kicking a puppy because he knows what’s going through Jean’s head

Jean saying he CAN’T fail when the first game goes badly and Jeremy hearing the truth in it and realising Jean is still in danger and he worries maybe leading to Jean telling him the truth

Jeremy is suspicious about Grayson’s death but I don’t think he will work it out unless something else happens

When he does find out I have no idea which way he will go because on one hand Jeremy knows Grayson deserves it but Jean purposely causing someone’s death might scare him a bit (even if it wasn’t Jean’s idea)

Saw someone say Jeremy’s family might be connected to the Moriyama’s and my first reaction was No not everyone is involved in the mafia BUT they said maybe (since they are involved in politics) they might be enabling them/covering for them somehow which could be true. And that would cause a lot of angst with Jeremy realising someone close to him is partly responsible to the horrible things that happened to Jean and people like him

Jeremy or Cat/Laila will see the magnets and then start buying new ones :(

Cat draws a < next to Jean’s 3 to make a heart :(

JereJean have a bad argument at the end leaving them not talking because Nora is cruel

I forgot about JereJean pottery!!! Jeremy will be shit at it but he’s just happy to be there and Jean will be surprisingly really good (could be the other way around as a way of Jean leaning to enjoy things even if he’s not good at them)

Bonus: I will be sobbing at least five separate times

[staraste]

You know how languages that have literally nothing to do with each other still may have overlapping words? The strongest example to me is latvian to frech ko=quoi. French and russian also have a bunch of overlapping words (kauchemar=кошмар even though i dont remember many rn theres soooo much). These languages do share a common root (proto-indo-european) but its very interesting how many words russian has in common with french, even if theyre further apart linguistically. Haven't studied history, i know its geographical and political as well, but i digress.

So i imagine vaugardian could have like One word that siffrin hears and suddenly theres neuron activation and he zeroes in on this one word and goes. Say that again. And for the life of him he cant remember what this word means, just that its familiar and known and maybe he has a breakdown. Or maybe mirabelle sits with him and explains what this word means in vaugardian instead, slowly patting his shoulder and talking over siffrins thoughts until he can relax again.

And of course siffrin gets curious about it. So the party gets some unreadable books from the library and start very slowly. Theres book club and theres reading bonnie to sleep and theres odile asking questions and with siffrins help making a dictionary (even though she cant read the words siffrin wrote and it gives her a headache. She stops trying to after a while, but it still makes her frustrated)

Saying the words is hard, since reading is very different from speaking. Siffrin doubts they can even remember how to speak, but the accent is there, and if they focus on the mouth shapes enough, eventually saying the word in vaugardian morphs into something else that Probably sounds like the word hes reading.

Loop is doing this too, of course. Its kind of uncomfortably intimate between siffrin and loop, especially when they try speaking in this language without reading from a book. It gives them a headache quickly and they "dont want to be doing this in the first place", so they stop early.

But overtime it gets easier, if not the "getting a headache" part, then at least talking to each other part. Siffrin laying on their belly, listening to loop talk and when loop canr remember the word they want, siffrin helps with this dictionary theyve made. And they switch and do it again.

Once theyre pretty sure what the pronounciation is, odile is very eager to have them teach her it. Tirns out it's hard to even hear the forgotten language and after she tries to speak the first single word, she comes down with a horrible migraine for the whole day. That doesn't stop her though.

Isabeau loves listening to loop and siffrin speak, and he really tries to tough it out as much as possible, and it always ends at the two lovingly making fun of his miserable state and giving his tense neck a massage.

Siffin and loop tried to remember any fairytales or children's stories, but of course it caused two breakdowns and a half, so they settled for making up new ones, talking bonnie to sleep. At least bonnie was honest about when they need to stop talking.

Mirabelle, of course, curiously listens in to siffrin and loops efforts during book club reading time, and gladly takes over the conversation during sharing time if the two are too spent to talk. Lately she does more listening than talking and she's SO excited she doesn't even notice the headaches until the talk is over.

Turns out headaches cannot be helped with any amount of healing craft, so the local pharmacy sees an increase of sales on painkillers for the forseeable future.

[a-living-canvas]

Leaky Fine Print

Maybe it's the torture, or something else, really. Caretaker couldn't pinpoint what exactly happened to their poor Whumpee. But it started after his recovery. Sure, Whumpee was back to eat again, and talk, socialising with people…but Caretaker wouldn't have expected him to be—

"Whumpee, put your legs down."

Caretaker said to the ignorant Whumpee who draped his legs on the table while reading a book. It's not…so Whumpee to be doing that. He's a polite and gentle kind man. But the sigh of frustration coming from him broke Caretaker's heart a little.

"I was asking nicely."

"I know."

"Then why the—"

"Why the attitude? Caretaker, can you mind your own business? You are not my parents."

Stunned, Caretaker huffed out a sigh and stood up from the couch before they walked to the kitchen. Whumpee leaned back on the couch, grumbling.

"[curse word]"

Caretaker stopped on their track. Their fists trembled slightly as they fought back tears. This is too much, Whumpee is too much.

Caretaker turned to face Whumpee, a look of anger evidenced on their face. They took a deep breath, their voices came out sharp with a hint of vulnerability in it.

"You are being very rude right now, you know?"

Whumpee raised an eyebrow, looking at Caretaker with a slight glare. The same way Whumper would do every time Whumpee tried to act defiance. "And who are you to tell me that?"

"Whumpee, this is not—"

Whumpee slammed the book shut against the table, startling Caretaker. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenching as he could feel the frustration bubbling at the back of his throat.

"You don't know anything about me. How much I suffer, the things that Whumper made me do. His mind games, his…all the disgusting things he did to me." Whumpee stood up from the couch, closing his distance with Caretaker who immediately backed away. "I was going through horrible things and you don't even care about me."

Caretaker's eyes widened, "No, no no Whumpee I do care about you! It's just…you…you've changed…! And I…I miss you…"

Caretaker tried to grab Whumpee's arm but the other just shoved them away. "It's Whumper, okay? It's all because of Whumper that I become like this." He sighed, looking at Caretaker with a tired expression, "Is that so hard to understand?"

~

"Shh…shh…I know. It's okay, I will talk to him, hm?" Team Leader said, rubbing Caretaker's back gently. Whumpee who was just about to return to his room stopped walking as he heard a few sobs coming from the living room. 

Peering behind the wall, he saw Caretaker crying on Team Leader's shoulder. Was…was it because of him?

"I-I don't know what happened to him, he's just…gone!"

Uh oh. Maybe it was because of him. He made Caretaker cry. That's enough to make his heart clenched uncomfortably inside. Maybe he should— no, no. It's not his fault. It's Whumper's.

Whumpee entered his bedroom, plopping down on the bed with a loud sigh. He didn't want to admit it, but it kind of bothered him a little. He shouldn't feel guilty about it…right?

Whumper was the one who made him like this, like him now. And it felt so good and…powerful. He could stand up for himself because of Whumper, he didn't have to burden himself with other people's problems anymore because of Whumper. 

Whumper, whumper, whumper

"It's not me…" Whumpee closed his eyes tightly, burying his face deeper on the bed sheet as the guilt slowly gnawed at him. But deep deep down in his heart, he knew it wasn't true. 

~

Prompt idea by @karmaiscalledsunny

~

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