#there's puns and everything what's not to love?!

[caraphernellie]

hey, some more fluff shit.. ellie adores the smiles of her lover. when the corners of your lips curl up into that delicate simper, ellie can't help herself, smiling too.

even when it's done out of pity or sympathy—and let it be known that ellie hates to receive pity. but from you? she doesn't mind it, because your face just softens the blow entirely. she really does feel a million times better, like your soft lips are the cure to any ailment.

even on darkest days, ellie feels the purest happiness transmitted to her through nothing but your simple expression. she's so besotted with you that she feels the need to capture it with pen and pencil in hand, hours endlessly erasing and redrawing areas, scribbling out old sketches and trying again. there's something she feels she can't get quite right, it just doesn't hold the same feeling she gets from seeing the real thing.

it couldn't matter any less to you, because when she finally presents to you the piece she was most satisfied with, you smile. and ellie feels shown up, because this new, beaming look on your face is the prettiest she's ever seen, the kind that takes her breath away.

ellie loves being the one to make you smile and she loves it when you have to resist it, too. she's tried everything, memorising shitty puns and jokes to make you laugh, and it tends to be the jokes so painfully bad that ellie can see you hiding your grin at. pursing your lips and straining to maintain poker-faced.

"that was bad, babe. really fucking bad."

"was it though? you're laughing."

"i am not."

when you insist she's the least funniest person you've ever met, she pouts so dramatically, huffing and puffing, arms crossed. and it's all fixed the minute you press a kiss to her lips, chapped and sulking. she's the one who can't hold back from smiling anymore. and what else could ellie love more than your sweet smile? well, kissing it. from quick pecks to tender french kisses, the works. her cheeks are practically glowing red, the contrast to her attempted stoicism so wild that she gives up on it, her desires overtaking her in rush to kiss your lips 'till you're breathless.

take a shot every time the word 'smile' is said in this (dont do that)

[wolverigrl]

Scorched Earth

Logan Howlett x mutant reader

!Disclaimer! Y/n is a mutant with the same skills as the human torch! Let me know if you'd like to read another part!

Warnings: mentioning of alcohol and death, angst

Enjoy!

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“Bobby, for real, you can’t possibly think that’s better than mine!” I laughed, leaning back on the chair in the kitchen, feet propped up on the table. Across from me, my brother grinned, folding his arms over his chest with that cocky smirk of his.

“You’re just jealous I got the better nickname.” Bobby replied, his voice light, teasing. “Iceman? It’s sleek, it’s cool - literally - and it fits me.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Oh, please. ‘Iceman’ sounds like the title of some second-rate action movie. Meanwhile, I’m lighting up the sky over here.”

Bobby raised a brow, feigning offense. “That’s a lot of talk from someone who’s still stuck with ‘Firecracker.’ ”

I punched him lightly on the arm. “I’ll take ‘Firecracker’ any day over your ‘cool’ puns.”

Our banter was easy, the kind that came naturally after years of being siblings. Bobby had always been the steady one, the one who could calm everyone down with a joke, while I was the hothead - pun intended - never one to back down from a challenge. It’s what made us a good team, even if we drove each other crazy half the time.

The way he carried himself, his calm demeanor, and his unwavering sense of control over his powers - everything I wasn't.

I was the fire to his ice, the chaos to his calm. We clashed often, but it wasn’t because we didn’t care. It was because we cared too much. And despite all the bickering, all the teasing, there was a bond between us that no one could break. I’d die for him. He was my anchor when my temper flared, my tether to reality when my powers spiraled out of control.

Just as I was about to throw another sarcastic remark his way, Logan walked into the room, his usual gruff self. He barely acknowledged us, heading straight for the fridge. Typical.

“Hey, Logan!” I called, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Did you finally get that stick outta your ass, or is it still lodged in there pretty good?”

Logan froze mid reach for a beer, then slowly turned his head, giving me the look - the one that said 'I am not in the mood for your crap right now, bub.' But that just made it more fun.

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do, hotshot?” he growled, slamming the fridge shut and twisting the cap off his beer with more force than necessary. “Or do you just live to run your mouth?”

I smirked, unfazed. “You know, it’s funny you say that, because I’ve noticed you love listening to me. Maybe it’s because no one else has the guts to call you out on your eternal grumpiness?”

Bobby snickered from beside me, enjoying the show. “She’s got a point, man. You’re not exactly known for your sunny disposition.”

Logan shot Bobby a glare before turning his attention back to me. “Maybe I’m grumpy ‘cause some people around here don’t know when to shut up.”

“Oh, come on, Logan. You’d miss me if I didn’t poke at you every now and then.” I said, leaning forward with a grin. “Admit it - you secretly love the banter.”

Logan let out a low, frustrated growl, shaking his head as he took a long swig from his beer. “The day I admit that, is the day hell freezes over. And even then, I’ll blame Bobby.”

Bobby grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t drag me into your weird dynamic. I’m just the innocent bystander.”

I shot Bobby a mock glare. “Innocent? You? Yeah, sure. Tell that to the last five people you pranked.”

Logan huffed, clearly done with the conversation, but I wasn’t quite finished yet. “You know, Logan.” I continued, leaning back again and stretching my arms behind my head, “You really oughta work on that sunny disposition. You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles with all that frowning.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, jaw clenching. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and keep that fire of yours under control?”

“Oh, I keep it very controlled, thank you very much.” I said, flashing a smile. “Besides, you seem to enjoy living dangerously. Why else would you keep hanging around us?”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath before retreating to his usual corner of the room, beer in hand, grumbling the entire way. Bobby leaned in toward me, his voice low enough so only I could hear.

“I still think you’re his favorite.”

I laughed quietly, watching Logan brood from across the room. “Nah, he just hasn’t figured out how to handle all of this yet.” I gestured to myself with a playful smirk.

“Sure, that’s what it is.” Bobby chuckled, leaning back with a relaxed sigh.

Despite Logan’s gruff attitude and my constant teasing, there was a kind of unspoken respect between us. He was the first to step in when things got dangerous, always willing to put himself on the line for the team. And even though he’d never admit it, I knew he appreciated having someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge him, to call him out when he was being extra cranky. In a way, it kept things balanced.

Bobby and I exchanged another look, both of us knowing exactly how this dynamic worked. I teased Logan, Logan growled, and the world kept spinning. It was our version of normal - a delicate balance of sarcasm, snark, and the occasional grumpy Wolverine glare.

It was one of those rare moments when everything felt light, even if just for a little while. Days like these, with Bobby teasing me, and Logan grumbling from across the room, were the best. I’d give anything to hold onto them.

But life as an X-Men had a way of reminding you that those moments could be fleeting.

And I didn’t know then just how fleeting they would be.

Todays mission was supposed to be a standard takedown. Another mutant extremist group, radicalized and bent on 'mutant supremacy'. Charles had briefed us thoroughly, and we had faced worse before. Or at least we thought we had.

It went south almost immediately. We were outnumbered, and it was clear that our enemies had intel we weren’t prepared for. They knew where we would be, how we would strike, and worse - they knew how to separate us. That was when things really started to fall apart.

The battlefield was a mess of chaos and screaming. Blasts of energy, ice, and fire lit up the sky, while the air howled with the sound of Storm’s winds tearing through enemy lines. I was a blur of fire and fury, every step a combustion of flame as I ripped through the chaos, throwing up walls of fire to keep enemies at bay. But no matter how hard we fought, there were too many. We were getting spread thin. Too thin.

I caught sight of Bobby ahead of me, just in time to see him raise an enormous ice wall to shield a group of our teammates. His back was to me, and before I could shout a warning, a blast from one of the enemy’s weapons slammed into him, sending him sprawling across the ground.

“Bobby!” I screamed, my heart lurching.

He struggled to get up, one knee bent, but the blast had been too much. His walls of ice began to crack and crumble around him. Panic rose in my throat like bile. He was surrounded, the enemies closing in.

I pushed forward, flames erupting from my palms as I blasted through the mob, trying to reach him. “Hang on, I’m coming!” I shouted, but my voice barely cut through the cacophony of combat.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

Before I could get to him, a second blast hit him. The impact was devastating. I saw his body jerk violently before he collapsed, crumpling like a rag doll on the cold, scorched ground. Time seemed to slow, my breath caught in my throat, and everything else faded away.

“No!” My scream tore from my chest, broken and raw, but there was nothing I could do.

He was still, too still.

I scrambled toward him, my flames fizzling out as I dropped to my knees beside his body. I reached out, hands trembling as I gently touched his face. His skin was cold, colder than it should have been. His chest didn’t rise. His eyes were closed. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I couldn't hear anything except the roaring silence in my own head.

He was gone.

“Bobby, please…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please don’t leave me.”

I don’t know how long I sat there, holding him, begging for him to come back. I couldn’t save him. I. Couldn’t. Save. Him.

Then, something broke inside me.

The grief, the rage, the helplessness - everything surged at once, overwhelming every rational thought. The fire inside me, the power I always tried to control, flared up in an instant. It wasn’t just fire anymore - it was fury, pure and uncontrollable.

Flames erupted from my body, hotter and fiercer than they ever had before. I screamed, the sound ripping through the air as fire exploded in all directions, a supernova of heat and light. The ground beneath me cracked, molten lava seeping from the earth as the intensity of my power burned through everything in its path.

I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.

The flames raged out, consuming everything they touched. The enemy soldiers who had killed Bobby screamed as they were incinerated, their bodies turning to ash in mere seconds. The ground smoked, trees around us igniting in a blaze, and the air became thick with heat.

Jean’s voice echoed in my mind, faint, as if she was shouting at me from the end of a long tunnel. “Y/n, stop! You have to stop!” Her voice was desperate, but I couldn’t listen. Couldn’t hear her over the roaring firestorm inside me.

Storm tried to summon her winds, pulling clouds thick with rain to douse the flames, but it wasn’t enough. Even the sky couldn’t hold back the inferno that had taken over me. I felt her power strain against mine, but my emotions fueled the fire, making it burn hotter, stronger. I was losing control completely, my body heating up like the core of a star.

“Y/n! You’re going to kill everyone!” Scott shouted through the comm, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. I could see them, all of them, struggling to get away from the heat, the fire spreading in every direction.

Charles reached out, trying to touch my mind, but I was beyond reach. His calming presence couldn’t get through the thick walls of grief and rage that had consumed me.

I was going to burn everything. Everyone.

Then, through the haze of heat and fire, I saw him.

Logan.

He was moving toward me, slow and steady, ignoring the screams of the others as they begged him to stop.

“Logan, no! You’ll die!” Jean’s voice, frantic, but he didn’t listen.

“Logan, don’t!” Storm shouted, the wind whipping around her, but he kept walking, one foot in front of the other, his eyes locked on mine.

I couldn’t stop the fire. I was too far gone, too lost in my own power. The heat radiated off me in waves, scorching everything in its path, and yet he kept coming.

His skin started to blister almost immediately. The heat was unbearable, even from where I stood. I could see his face contorting in pain, could smell the sickening scent of burning flesh as he got closer. His clothes were already charred, the leather of his jacket melting and fusing to his skin. But he didn’t stop.

I wanted to scream at him to get back, to stop, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was watch in horror as he walked into the flames, his healing factor struggling to keep up as his body was scorched by the heat I was putting off.

And then he was there, standing right in front of me, his skin bright red, his hands trembling as the fire licked at his skin. His face was a mask of pain, sweat and blood mixing with the charred burns that covered his arms and neck. But his eyes, his eyes were steady.

“Y/n.” he said, his voice low and raspy, strained from the pain. “You need to stop.”

“I can’t!” I gasped, my breath catching as the flames flared up again, fueled by the storm of emotions inside me. “I can’t control it. I-I’m going to kill you, Logan!”

“I don’t care!" he growled, taking another step closer, his boots melting into the molten ground. His body trembled, his skin bubbling and cracking under the heat, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not leaving you.”

Tears streamed down my face, evaporating the moment they hit the air.

His eyes locked onto mine, unwavering, even as the flames licked at his skin. His face contorted in pain, but he didn’t stop.

“Bub.” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the heat. “You need to let go. I know it hurts, but you gotta stop.”

I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the fire. I was too far gone. The heat, the flames, my emotions - it was all consuming me. I was a supernova, and there was no pulling back.

Logan took another step. His healing factor was working overtime, but even he couldn’t withstand this for long. Yet, he didn’t hesitate.

“Y/n!” Logan yelled, louder this time, and I felt his words cut through the haze. “I know what it’s like! To lose someone - hell, to lose everyone! You feel like you’re gonna burn up inside. You feel like it’ll never stop, like you’ll never breathe again. But this ain’t the way!”

I felt the fire flare around me, almost as if it were trying to drown out his words. I wanted to listen, but the grief, the rage - it was still so raw. Bobby was gone. How could I stop the fire when everything inside me was screaming to let it burn?

But Logan didn’t back off. He stepped into the heart of the inferno, his arms opening, and wrapped me in a hug. The flames surged as they met his body, and I could feel his skin burning under my touch. I could smell it. His face twisted in agony, but he didn’t pull away.

“Let it out, hotshot. Let it all out,” Logan whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. “But don’t burn yourself with it. You ain’t alone. I’m here.”

I could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breaths ragged from the heat, but his arms around me were steady, grounding. In that moment, the fire faltered, flickering as my mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

Logan - the one person who could barely stand to be in the same room as me without a sarcastic remark - was holding me, burning alive in my fire, all because he wouldn’t leave me alone in my pain.

And then, I felt it.

The fire started to die down, the flames retreating into my skin as I began to sob against his chest. The heat that had consumed me so completely, so violently, began to ebb, leaving behind only the suffocating weight of grief. Logan’s chest was soaked with my tears as I clung to him, my body shaking with the force of my cries.

“I couldn’t save him, Logan." I choked out between sobs. “I couldn’t- ”

“I know." Logan murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “I know, bub. It’s not your fault.”

The last of the flames flickered out, and the air around us was suddenly cooler, still. Logan’s body, still blistered and burnt in places, didn’t move. He just held me tighter, letting me cry into his chest, never once letting go. I buried my face into the fabric of his ruined shirt, his heartbeat the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

After what felt like forever, I became aware of the world around me again. The sounds of the battlefield had quieted. Jean, Storm, and the others were slowly approaching, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

“We need to get back to the mansion,” Scott said, his voice soft but firm. “Y/n, Logan… let’s go.”

Logan didn’t move to let me go, and I didn’t want him to. The thought of being alone right now, without the steady warmth of his presence, was unbearable.

“Can you walk?” Hank asked me.

Logan shook his head, giving a low grunt of pain as he stood up, still cradling me in his arms. “I got her.”

I felt Logan’s arms adjust under me as he began to walk, carrying me like I weighed nothing. I should’ve been worried about him, should’ve told him to let me go, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I pressed my face into his chest, feeling the burn marks on his skin, the roughness of his wounds. He was hurting because of me, but he didn’t care.

The journey back to the mansion felt like a blur, the sounds of the battlefield fading into silence as Logan carried me, step after step, his breathing labored but determined. I clung to him, my body exhausted, but my mind still racing with grief and guilt.

When we finally reached the mansion, Logan carried me straight to my room. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and laid me gently on my bed. His face was tense with pain, but his movements were careful and protective.

I reached out, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave. “Don’t go... please.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I-I don’t wanna be alone.”

Logan’s eyes softened, just for a moment. He gave a small nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer any more words of comfort, and for that, I was thankful. I didn’t need words. I just needed him to stay.

I curled into his side, my head resting against his chest once again. His heartbeat was slower now, more even, though his body was still warm from the burns. He didn’t flinch when I pressed closer, seeking the comfort of his presence. His arm wrapped around me, holding me close, and for the first time since Bobby died, I felt a small flicker of something like peace.

As I sobbed into Logan’s chest, my body exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, I felt his hand gently stroke my hair. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry. His presence as steady as the heartbeat beneath my cheek.

The tears slowly began to subside, my body relaxing into his as the exhaustion took over. I was grateful for the silence, grateful for the way Logan just was - strong, unyielding, and never pushing me for more than I could give.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, the grief and pain pulling me into a restless sleep. The last thing I remembered was the feel of Logan’s hand still in my hair, his quiet strength wrapping around me like a protective shield.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself drift into sleep, safe in his arms.

---------------------------------------------------

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You go through a whirlwind of emotions when drunk.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: drunk!reader, Reader annoying Sirius

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x drunk!Reader

You were slumped between James and Sirius, giggling uncontrollably, your legs swinging off the armrest of the couch as you hiccuped. The room was warm, and everything felt so funny. Especially Sirius's hair.

"You know what, Pads?" you slurred, poking Sirius in the cheek. "You look like a... a giant poodle. But a mean one. Like, the poodles at the dog shows that bite people."

Sirius's jaw dropped. “A poodle? You—no, absolutely not. I am—what did you say I was, James?”

James was trying not to laugh. "Uh, majestic, I think."

"Majestic!" Sirius pointed at you dramatically, like that would prove his point.

You snorted so hard you almost fell off the couch, but James caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and steadying you. "Sure, sure, 'Padfoot the Majestic Poodle.'"

"It's mostly because of your hair—" you giggled, reaching out to pat the top of his head, missing entirely and booping his nose instead. "It's so fluffy, like a big, angry puppy!"

Sirius frowned, swatting your hand away dramatically. "I am not a dog, and my hair is majestic, thank you very much."

"Fluffy," you repeated, poking him in the cheek now. "Sirius, fluffy like a… like a poodle!"

James tried to hold back a laugh as Sirius looked properly offended, folding his arms with a huff. "Are you serious?"

You snorted at his pun. "No, you’re Sirius!"

Remus groaned from beside Peter. "Oh no. Not this again."

Peter shook his head, barely holding back his own giggles. "Here we go…"

“Are you lot serious right now?” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. “A poodle. Really.”

“Sirius is serious,” you added, and then cracked up at your own joke. “Sirius is Sirius—wait, Remus, did you hear that? It’s his name.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we got it.”

“But I’m not a poodle,” Sirius muttered, still offended, while you continued to giggle.

James still eyed the bottle of firewhiskey in your hand like he wanted to take it away. Not that you noticed. Nope. You were too busy trying to poke Sirius in the cheek.

“You’ve got—got something there,” you slurred, leaning in far too close to Sirius’s face.

“What? Where?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned as he wiped at his cheek. “Did I get dirt on me?”

“Yeah, it’s called your face,” you giggled, falling back onto James and laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever said.

Sirius gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “How dare you! James, do you hear this? Your girlfriend is cruel.”

You waved him off, turning your attention back to James, who was trying not to smile. “He’s just mad ‘cause he’s not as pretty as you,” you said, squinting up at James like you were stating the most obvious fact in the world. You reached out and patted his face, a little too hard. “So. Pretty.”

James chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could slap him again. “Alright, love, I think you’ve had enough for one night.”

“Noooooo,” you whined, stretching out the word. “M’fine, Jamie. Look! I can sit up perfectly straight.” You immediately leaned to the side, almost toppling over onto Peter, who yelped and quickly scooted out of the way.

“Maybe… maybe a little too much,” Remus said from beside Peter, watching with raised eyebrows.

“Remus!” you called, throwing your arms out toward him. “You’re so boring, you know that?”

“Hey, I like boring,” Peter mumbled from his chair, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, Wormtail likes boring!” you repeated, pointing to Peter like he was your greatest proof.

You sat up suddenly, looking around the room, eyes wide and dramatic. “Wait. Wait. You guys can’t ever leave me, okay? Promise.”

The Marauders exchanged confused looks. “Uh—okay?” Peter said hesitantly.

“I’m serious—not like Sirius serious—" you hiccuped, "But you guys can’t leave. We have to stay friends forever or I’ll—I’ll hex all of you!” You threw your hands up, trying to look menacing, but it came off more like a flailing octopus.

James quickly wrapped his arms around you as you dramatically collapsed into his chest. “Love, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sirius muttered, though he was still looking somewhat offended by your earlier insult. “I don’t think I can handle another ‘your face is the problem’ comment.”

But you weren’t having it. You pointed a shaky finger at them, wobbling slightly. “You better not, Sirius Black! Or I’ll—” You narrowed your eyes dramatically, trying to look intimidating. “I’ll hex you into next week! I know spells, you know!”

James bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What spells?”

“Spells!” you repeated, waving your hands in the air as if that was a valid explanation. “Dangerous ones!”

Peter snorted. “I’m terrified.”

Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Merlin, you’re scary when you’re drunk.”

“Good,” you said, immediately softening. “Because I love you guys, even though Sirius is a poodle, and Remus won’t laugh at my jokes, and Peter—well, Pete, you’re just so cute, aren’t you?”

“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached out, pulling all of them into a big, awkward group hug. “I just love you guys, okay? Don’t leave me… ever.”

James chuckled, his hand warm on your back. "Alright, let's get you to bed, yeah?"

“I don’t wanna go to bed,” you pouted, leaning into James like a rag doll. “I wanna stay here and annoy Sirius more.”

“I’m not listening to this nonsense,” Sirius huffed, throwing his hands up.

“Oh, but Sirius—don’t you wanna cuddle like a big, fluffy dog?” you teased, blinking innocently.

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

James stood up, pulling you gently with him. “C’mon, love, you’re barely standing.”

“Wait, no, no, no—you're all amazing, even you, Remus, boring and all.” You paused, eyes widening as if you had just realized something horrible. “Wait—don’t ever leave me, guys.”

Your lower lip started to wobble.

“Don’t leave me! You can’t! What if you just disappeared? Poof! Gone! And I’m all alone. I’ll die. I’ll actually die.”

James squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you’re driving everyone mad, love.”

You looked up at him, beaming. “But not you, right, Jamie?” you gushed, running your fingers through his messy hair, making it even worse. “You’re perfect, James Potter. Like… a Quidditch god! And your glasses are so… shiny.”

Sirius fake gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shush, poodle!” you shot back at him, your words blending together into a cute mess of slurs. “You’re just jealous ‘cause James is my shiny glasses boy.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. Peter was full-on laughing now, while James was just gazing at you, completely smitten.

You huffed but allowed him to help you stand. “You’re the best, James,” you said, leaning heavily on him as he started to guide you toward the stairs.

“You’re pretty great yourself,” James chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist so you wouldn’t stumble.

Just before you reached the dormitory, you stopped, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “No, really, Jamie. You’re the best. Don’t ever change.”

James grinned down at you, his heart melting a little. “I won’t, love. Now let’s get you to bed before you start threatening to hex me too.”

You smiled sleepily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I’d never hex you. You’re too pretty.”

And with that, you were out, leaving James with a fond smile and the rest of the Marauders shaking their heads behind him.

Downstairs, Sirius was still sulking. “A poodle… unbelievable.”

i love drunk!reader so much!!

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Scams, Fakes, Performance, & Belief

Peaceful Property: On Sale, ep. 4

This week's episode was filled with fakes: online order scams, magicians, compromised democratic processes, and a fake ghost. What reasons do we have to believe in anything? Everything is just an attempt to pull the wool over our eyes while the rugs get pulled out from under us so others can make a quick buck and protect their own hide. Who wants to be fooled by all the shams?

Pangpang does. Jan Ployshompoo has been fantastic in this role, and she got to devour this episode. Jan specializes in a 'camp' performance style that's easy to undervalue. 'Camp' acting involves overacting the characters and emotions, and lesser actors often approach it with self-awareness and cynicism. Jan understands my favorite note on camp that Susan Sontag wrote.

“56. Camp taste is a kind of love, love for human nature. It relishes, rather than judges, the little triumphs and awkward intensities of “character.” . . . Camp taste identifies with what it is enjoying. People who share this sensibility are not laughing at the thing they label as “a camp,” they’re enjoying it. Camp is a tender feeling.”

The tender affection in Jan's 'camp' hits the themes of this episode home (no pun intended) because she infuses compassion for her over-the-top characters. They get to have range and reasons for their shallowness.

Pangpang's manic overperformance as a social-media influencer has been all about naively buying into every gimmick for herself and from others. Home, probably from his own similarities, points out to Peach how she's doing this as a form of compensation. All along she needed to believe in something because she needed to believe in her brother, to believe when no one else would in his debilitating fear and grief. She didn't need evidence to believe he saw ghosts as he said. She needed to believe she could be there for him even if she didn't know how. Pangpang chooses enchantment because staying true to her brother and her own feelings of loss over their parents are more important than being the winner of some existential argument.

The problem of deception lies at the heart of performance, and I often have a sense that performers and production crews invest a little more when they have to address it (Foei Patara who played Chobkol GAVE!). They have to prove that there is value and truth in the make-believe and assisting people in doing it. For a while, they need their audience to return to the magic of childhood so that they'll clap to show they believe in fairies when Tinkerbell's light begins to fade.

I loved how Peaceful Property symbolized this return to innocence as an egg, a kind of spiritual rebirth. If we want to believe in the magic of fantasy (Kan), the potential in ourselves (Peach), and the value of others (Home), we have to let go of our guarded cynicism. It won't eliminate the harsher truths of reality. They'll arrive one way or another. But we don't need to be the person who crushes our own dreams or who crush others' dreams just because we're scared of being vulnerable. We need to be people like Pangpang who want to believe and help others on their journey to believing good things are possible.

[olympeline]

Been thinking about why I found Arthur in the Dark so impressive and it made me realise something kinda significant. Something significant that I’m going to put under a read more because it revolves around a heavy subject. So I wouldn’t advise looking beyond the cut if you’re sensitive to that kind of thing.

Less important, but everything below is a big spoiler and, guys seriously. If you like USUK and can handle darker fiction - no pun intended - give AitD a try. Don’t spoil yourself here. Go try it first and then come back if you’re interested. Try it if you’re neutral on USUK. Or, heck, even if USUK is a ship you dislike but isn’t an outright NOTP. I’d still recommend checking out this comic. Arthur in the Dark is still worth a read in my opinion. It’s that good. But enough gushing. Read on for the meat of this post.

Ready? Here we go: Arthur in the Dark has one of the best depictions of rape I’ve ever seen in a piece of media. “Best” as in most skillfully crafted for narrative purposes. Honestly and truly. Not even kidding. Which is kind of amazing considering it’s a depiction that came from a fan comic based on a jokey, anime gag series. Why do I feel this way? A couple of reasons:

Firstly, the rape in AitD is frighteningly, tragically realistic. Something the majority of fictional rapes are not. We tend to think of rape as taking place in a dark alley in the inner city. Stereotyping up a scene of a bottom feeder, criminal man dragging a (young, attractive) woman away to violate her. They’re usually total strangers and it’s always violent. These kind of rapes do happen, but statistics tell us they’re the minority. The majority of rapes happen like the one in AitD did: between two people who know each other well. Friends, romantic couples, even family members, make up the bulk of rapists and their victims.

Most narratives prefer the less common type of rape. Usually because the creator doesn’t want to tell a story about rape. Not really. What they want is a gut-punch to add easy drama and darkness to their creation. The sliding scale of “irredeemable bad guy” roughly goes: murderer → cold blooded torturer → rapist → child rapist. Making a villain a rapist is one of the worst things he - because 99% of the time it’s a he - can be. Conversely having a character be raped gains them instant sympathy because people are moral and empathetic creatures at heart. Most creators know this and throw in a rape for the shorthand: “Look how evil our villain is!” Which often makes the rape and its aftermath feel artificial. In no small part because the rapist characters, by virtue of being written to be the worst of the worst, don’t come off as very human. They can’t be when their main purpose is to be loathed by the audience. I could go on because there’s tons more to unpack about rape in fiction, but you get the point.

The rape in AitD isn’t like that. America and England know and love each other. Their relationship is complicated (oh boy, is it ever!) but that part of it is never in doubt. They’re each other’s most treasured person and have been for centuries. They’re not a duo made up of a flat, hate bait, villain on a collision course with their victim. Who’s doomed to suffer and be pitied until the creator decides the audience has had enough of their trauma and shuts it away so the story can move on. America and England are two people living together, going through a period of immense change and stress, trying to manage as best they can, and sometimes getting it very wrong. From a narrative point of view, this makes what happens between them so much better and so much more upsetting at the same time.

Which brings me nicely to reason number two of why this particular rape works: the build up. Like everything else in AitD, America raping England is carefully planned out and set up. The chocolate bar scene, man. Brilliant, I have to say. Alarming, uncomfortable, and brilliant. The scene in the garden is not just sprung on the reader for a jarring “Oh no! Oh shit-!” moment. If your typical under written rape is a cheap jump scare, the rape in AitD is a carefully crafted slowburn dread. Early on we start to become aware we’re building to something bad. From the foreshadowing, the art, the atmosphere, etc. We just know a storm is coming. It’s done without America acting OOC too, which is very important. It’s how he can come back from what he did. Something that would be impossible if the author didn’t handle this setup well. America’s actions aren’t right, but they are understandable. That’s the crucial distinction. The psychology of the whole thing is so very well done. America was in love with England and had been for a long time. The guilt he felt tormented him because of what their relationship was in the past. Caught between his human side and his immortal one. The guilt helped keep America in check because he didn’t want England seeing the lustful way he’d begun to look at him. Then they started living together and England was suddenly vulnerable. Vulnerable in more ways than America was aware. Which is another vital detail of how the creator keeps America sympathetic, but more on that in a moment. England willingly went blind so he wouldn’t have to see when America - the man grown from the child he raised - looked at him with lust. The guilt America felt peaked, only to clash with the realisation that he could freely indulge in his fantasies. Indulge and push (again, chocolate bar scene) now the usual moral restraint - England seeing his desire - was removed.

Meanwhile, England himself felt that same guilt but his was also laced with panic and despair. He didn’t want to lose or strain his relationship with the most important person of his centuries long life. Pulled between human standards of morality and the very inhuman existence of nation-people. Incidentally the clash between their existence as humans, while also being something more than human, is brilliantly done in AitD. It’s something that’s hard to get right - especially involving such taboo topics - but Hotama nails it. USUK usually handwaves the implications around England raising America, but here it’s made part of the narrative. Part of the tragedy, part of the resolution. Good stuff. Anyway, England begged Arthur to take his sight away so he wouldn’t have to see the way America looked at him. Then banished Arthur back into the dark in an attempt to run away from his problems. But without Arthur - without his strength - England couldn’t stand up to America when he needed to. Not that America was aware of any of this because he never knew about Arthur. Which brings me to point three: nuance of blame.

“Blame” is a very loaded word in this context, so I’ll do my best to talk about this carefully. Rape in the media is almost always black and white. Absolutely evil, irredeemable rapist. Absolutely blameless, sympathetic victim. But real life isn’t always that simple. Obviously the rapist is always the perpetrator and the one most in the wrong. I need to make that very clear. But the scene in AitD illustrates that sometimes a victim could have done more to help themselves. Not always, but sometimes. This is a delicate subject so I hope you understand I’m not trying to victim blame. Just saying that rape, like all crimes, doesn’t always deal in absolutes. Unlike media, real life is often complicated and tragic. Good people can give in to temptation. Be weak, do bad things, or allow those bad things to happen. England told America to stop, but failed to follow it up when needed. When America pushed for more and used England’s own words to argue he’d already been given consent, that was when England needed to push back. Interpretation comes in here but, personally, I think if England had told America to stop when prompted, America would have. But England didn’t and he gave in instead. Something America took as a tacit “yes.” Again, not right, but understandable in how it could happen. Their power imbalance had grown extreme, stress and feelings were running high, they were struggling to connect as they used to, England’s prior cowardice and separation from Arthur prevented him from being strong when he needed to be, America was ignorant of his problem, and it all came together in a horrible, tragic mistake. All throughout, the rape continued to be brilliantly, awfully realistic. America not noticing - either genuinely or from denial - that England was not enjoying what was happening. England quickly becoming too distracted by the pain to do anything other than focus on enduring it. Then the aftermath where America didn’t realise what he’d just done due to coming down from a post-sex, post-stress euphoria. Awful, miserable, horrifying, tragic, perfectly crafted scene.

Which brings me to my final reason why this comic impressed me in its depiction of rape: where the story goes from there. Where it goes and how the narrative builds from the rape instead of trying to move on because the “shocking” part is over and now we’re in diminishing returns. Going back to my first point, too many stories see rape as something that happens in an isolated part of the narrative. It happened, it was shocking and brutal, now it’s done and we can move on because we didn’t plan to interweve the rape with the rest of the story. So we won’t give it the weight it needs. At best the victim might get a few scenes expressing their trauma later on - maybe a callback or two - but that’s it. It’s shallow. Plenty of fictional rapes could be replaced with a savage beating and nothing would change. In the worst cases you could remove the rape, not replace it with anything, then run the story with minimal problems. Not so in AitD. There, the rape isn’t just another semi-important plot point. It’s a crucial one which couldn’t be replaced with anything else. The whole first part of the story, the engine of the narrative, is built around America and England failing to deal with their changing relationship. A relationship between a pair of humans who also happen to be strange, immortal beings that ordinary humans can’t understand. Changing from platonic/familial to romantic over hundreds of years. With romance comes lust. Lust can be perfectly healthy just like any other bodily appetite. In this case it became twisted by circumstance, and the only “suitable” narrative payoff was rape. Nothing else would have had the necessary impact.

Then there’s how the rape compares to the final sex scene in some classic narrative juxtaposition. The final sex scene which happens to be the only one in the comic that’s fully consensual on both sides. The one that goes beyond sex and becomes real, honest to goodness lovemaking. It’s a perfect contrast. The rape scene had all the trappings of a classic romance. Right down to it being their first time and taking place in a rose garden. But it’s tragic, horrifying, and deeply unsexy. Then, near the end of their story, America and Arthur get lost on their road trip and have sex in their car. Their crappy, cramped car, where they’re surrounded by ordinary luggage, both of them sweaty and a little cranky with each other after a long day. It’s awkward, ordinary, imperfect and gorgeous. If we didn’t have the rape before to show us the nadir of this relationship, the healing and the dawn that came after wouldn’t be half so meaningful. A very strange thing to say without context, but it was a perfectly done rape that gave the audience the payoff of perfectly done lovemaking. It’s no small feat to get a reader to cheer for a romantic resolution after all of the above. Kind of in awe of Hotama’s skills, I tell you what.

Up to this point and I don’t know what else there is to say other than, geez. This comic, man. Blew me away. I’m so happy I rediscovered my interest in Hetalia if for no other reason than I got to read Arthur in the Dark. I’m a bit of a bookworm in my spare time and I’ve read quite a lot of classic literature over the years. Classic literature with rape scenes not crafted half so well as AitD did. Really think about that. An amateur fan comic based on a jokey gag series about national personifications being silly with each other. Did better at something than the books we hold up as the best of the best. Can’t really say anything else than that is genuinely bloody amazing

[itslikeababywithamustache]

Anyway yeah I made the lowkey side tag awhile ago to start talking about other fandom stuff but I think I might just turn that into the whole blog at this point bc I'm not really doing any big creator stuff for any fandoms I'm in rn, but I do want to rant about things but I never want to on my main for some reason?? Idk why it's just like a weird rule in my brain I didn't get a choice in making, but I also don't rant much over here because I'm like "well but like it's supposed to be lab rats..." and it felt weird to keep ranting about a bunch of other stuff when I wasn't also engaging in what the blog was supposed to be.

Not that I'm uninterested in the show anymore or anything, I'll still talk about it along with other things, just won't be my focus.

My mental health has just really kinda like. Idk I dunno if I'd classify it as "tanked" but definitely done something and I just don't have the motivation and energy to engage and create the way I used to. Which I miss, and really hope I can get back. But for now there are a few suspicions about some stuff and I'm just tired and I don't wanna be a definitive thing anymore and just want a space to ramble freely (where my brain will let me).

So yeah. This is Officially gonna stop being an Official Lab Rats Universe Blog now. I'm gonna change the description after this post but I'm not really gonna touch the rest of the blog. Might mess with the profile pic at some point but I like the URL. And I'm gonna leave the tag pages and all that so people can still find stuff. Plus I can't change or remove any of it on my phone anyway. Also also if I ever do make more stuff I've got things already set up to just add to for the archive. So. Yeah.

You're also still welcome to submit and ask stuff too, like, kinda obviously probably cause I'm gonna leave open, but idk I feel like I should throw that out there, I'm not like, hermitizing myself.

ALSO. Just bc I haven't been engaging... don't think I haven't seen y'all changing the Kaz/Chase ship name to that abomination of colors

I started them I am not afraid to end them.

[ratislatis]

I'll find you. Wait for me.

hee hee hoo hoo AUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH PAIN PAIN SUFFERING PAIN IN ALL DIRECTIONS!!!! TO HELL WITH IT (LITERALLY)!!!!!!!!!

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[divinekangaroo]

Finding the Smethwick Corporation Act 1927 being actual legislation which extends the controls and powers of the constituency of Smethwick over that of (parts of) Birmingham

[insert some reaction gif here]

[sysig]

A complete lack of catharsis (Patreon)

[grahamcarmen]

Have a lot of asks and takes so just gonna dump them all here:-

opinion on chase and dexter.

you know i really want carlotta to meet the faculty and coach brunt and gray.

carlotta is gonna get such a biased version of gray that it cackles me up.

I can just imagine carmen telling her about gray and her response is "so you inherited my taste in bad boys".

you know, i understand why people think that if el topo killed someone he'll feel really guilty nut like he's the one to remind crackle that no witnesses should be left behind he's a cinnamon roll who can kill you.

rn i'm giggling at the idea of someone catching carmen and grey making out.

Commander is adorable.

1)i like them! Chase i maintain has the best line about the trufffles in his brain in s2. vivid imagery. poetic. and he gets such a solid and clear arc so congrats dude!! i really also like in s1 where he doesn't really buy that mimebomb is important but does have a tactic to keep tabs on him . tenacious, resiliant, and really intelligent sometimes. a lot of fun to watch and occasionally hear the out of pocket things he can say, he starts out abrasive but seeing him soften up and do what he can do best is fun and rewarding

dexter we don't get much but he was literally so!!! for getting only barely caught on cameras dating carms mom (which he refused to stop doing heck yeah <3) and doing his best to long con his way OUT of VILE for all of their sakes. and as a VILE agent? he was so smooth like steal those jewels, fly away, get paid for minimal teaching...ajsdnfasdkfn cool. RIPERONIS you were pretty cool

i really hope that carmen gets told by her mom that she has her dads eyes it was such an awwww moment when she said it. :( + just ugh can you imagine the conversations if she gets even more hints of similar things between them...ughhhhh carmen would really hold that dear...

2) hmmmmmmm like i really am into maybe her mom wanting to occasionally help carmen and that could happen VIA that (faculty and brunt) as for GRAY...

3) asdkjfnaslkfdjasd ok carmen gives literally all of gray's good points in such heart eyes and happy voice that the context of how carmen knows this just like makes her go "WAIT WAT" but lmao the idea of them falling for bad boys who are actually so soft and will do whatever it takes and actually turn over a new leaf <3 [i do think she might be a little harsher in her opinion on gray at first because thats her baby >:( waddyumeanyou! but like

:(it was everything...it was literally everything he held dear for carmen to exist and ugghhhhhhhhh i can't with them.

and like a changed person who her daughter has so much love for and obviously loved her enough to do that?? plus her mom runs an orphanage like i want to see him try to wiggle his way in the middle of respectful and being called out for old habits he can't shake yet and not being used to her brand of warmth. or her just asking him to keep watch the kids so she and carmen can have a day together mijo :((((((

and him being decent at corralling all those kids...not great he almost lost a couple but decent (he is good at charming distractions but gets snippy at the troublemakers if any...he's the only troublemaker allowed there<3) + always my evidences that he was the one who split up carmen and sheenas fights, the boys looked at him when they needed help at the tunnel, lmao he actually did have a decent distraction of codenames at the ready, and he's a head patter with a chill laid back disposition he projects...he can distract them with candyland for an hour...i think he can catch their attention like lmao he has such de facto group leader energy even if its not what he primarily does/the role he always wants...can he hold it tho...

or even a seriousish conversation after with gray realizing that was her trusting him lol + just long way round is still the way around conversation

5)...is that a thing? i mean el topo initially felt really bad about carmen because they were friends and might* have felt bad for shadowsan because he was his teacher but le chevre just tells him to focus on the bad parts of his class to get over it. old man in the desert who he has no attachment to? crackle remember to kill him + next time le chevre/ el topo both get over any lingering attachments and el topo even captures carmen with a smile and an ho-la. cinnamon roll who can kill.

6)I NEED THAT SO BAD ! NEED THEM TO BE INSEPARABLE AND INSUFFERABLE AND GET CAUGHT BEING ABSOLUTELY INTO EACH OTHER AND ABSOLUTELY SO HAPPY. askjdfnaskfjna and absolutely with only half an idea of what to do when caught

7) COMMANDER ...is cute <3

[electricpurrs]

the more and more i look at wolves the more itchy i get. i want to be a wolf. i want to draw a wolf. would yall still love me if i was a catwolfboy. a wolfcatboy. an ex wolf girl cat boy. i fucking love wolves

[potatobugz]

opening untitled google doc #7592 so I can attempt to write something again but ultimately never finish it

[ladyaster]

I’ve seen some people politely ask why there’s a lot of love for PermafrostShipping going around and like I dunno about the rest of you but I just saw a meme of them while I was delirious at 4 AM and at first I laughed but then I went “BUT WHAT IF-” and now I’m in too deep. Please send help.

[holytrickster]

idk i think it's so funny I went down a survival horror game rabbit hole when a) I'm too freaking anxious for horror games I will make myself cry, b) it was all PS2 stuff which is extra funny bc I've never even played on someone else's playstation let alone had one, i was always a wii kid lol. but now my brain is like ah yes. time to consume everything I can about games I can't even play and that are stupid expensive/hard to get now

[the-punforgiven]

ngl mork borg was on my list of games to check out for a while now and my god why have I not checked it out earlier