#<- not technically but for visibility's sake ig

[catwafers]

post-98 knives rehabilitation tactics

[steakbeefee]

Another version of this post (you should read that first ig)

Cw // middle school era (no bullying angst 😟😟), post sludge-villain > middle school > start/early year UA timeline, minor stalker-ish bkg but he’s not creepy, and stalking as in watching Dk train w All Might

*this can be read a platonic or romantic, the ship tags are there for notes, (lowkey going a little too romantic on this, sorry lol)

Okay, it goes the same as the regular version, post-sludge villain, Bkg goes to yapp at Dk, storm off, decides to loiter around a corner (within earshot, but out of sight) on a whim, overhears about ofa and All Might’s offer, all that stuff.

But instead of going to him about it, he doesn’t do anything, no jumping on his ass about it, no extra bullying, he’s just there, watching him (like a creep-).

He thinks that Deku already has the quirk, and knowing that it’s All Mights, he decides to stop bugging him, he’d like to live, thank you very much.

He then stumbles apon him carrying All Might/dragging a fridge will All Might on it.

F e a r .

He doesn’t say anything about it (HE WOULD LIKE TO NOT DIE), and brushes it off.

But then his inferiority complex kicks in.

He starts thinking that Deku’s becoming better than him (with all his training and stuff), so he starts to train (harder, since Bkg was already training to begin with (hc??)

Because of his sudden urge to become “better”, he notices subtle things about Deku, about how he takes notes while training his hand under the desk, how he starts to get visible eyebags. How he starts dozing off more often during class. How it looks like he’s taking care of himself less for the sake of “training”.

It.. disturbs Bakugou.

He tried to confront him about it, but Deku seems to have gotten better at slipping away from people.

- Anyway timeskip, it’s summer now -

Bakugou sometimes visits the beach Deku trains at, conveniently around/at the time Deku starts moving junk across the beach. (Is it just him or did he gain some muscles?- wait, no, what are you thinking, Katsuki-)

Bakugou technically no longer has an excuse to confront him about his training. (he can’t bring up seeing his state in middle school, that’d not only potentially blow his cover, but deku avoided him (and some others) the entire time?) So he is forced to watch the poor dumbass nerd overtrain. For ten months. Sickening.

Anyway the entrance exam arrives, Bakugou is there to stalk watch Deku as he screams on top of the pile of junk (HOLY SHIT HE’S RIPPED—), accept the quirk from All Might (by… eating All Might’s hair..? He’s starting to have second thoughts about idolizing All Might.), and heads off to the entrance exam.

He (oh so conveniently) has to sit next to Deku (which is, infact, a lot weirder now that he knows about the training and the quirk).

Anyway the entrance exam starts, he passes (he assumes (assumption is right), and waits for the results.

He sees that Deku got.. no villain points. Shock.

Then he sees the rescue points, which was 60-70. Calming.

- Time skip again, it’s my long post, I get to decide how many skips there are, early/start of year UA -

Anyway, it goes as canon. (aka I’m not typing that)

Then, a month or so later (maybe around…. USJ? Maybe later? Before?? Idk), Bakugou’s finally able to confront Deku about the quirk.

“I know what you we’re doing the past 10 months, Deku.”

_____________________________

Aannnd… scene, I’m out of brain juice.

[succubused]

thoughts on how jotaro in part 6 fills the same role as holly in part 3?

this got out of hand i.e. long because i got worked up. did some psychic damage but it has been a solid few days since i went off the rails about jotaro so im just gonna go for it ig

before i start i want to say that i actually never even thought of that before this which in retrospect is wild because it’s such a visible parallel but like. the difference between them i think is what makes the similarity more striking for me.

with jotaro his mother was always very openly affectionate towards him and present and there in a way that he, being emotionally closed off to a dazzling extent even as far as teenage boys go, clearly didn’t really know how to approach or accept. & then that constant was removed and he immediately and without hesitation threw everything he had into bringing it back, and succeeded, but at the cost of like. everything.

it’s all especially rough when you take into account that she was likely the only consistent source of love he had in his life, regardless of how he was capable of responding to it & in the process of trying to restore that source he forfeited his own ability to stay around the people he cares about in the future. forfeited any chance at future happiness at age seventeen effectively

and then of course the tangled nature of the relationship jolyne and jotaro have is like. a direct consequence of that damage i think. because he couldn’t give her the closeness she wanted and needed or the kind of affirmation he always had in excess from his own mother since he by that point was so cemented into what i always perceived as the mindset of “protect her at all costs even the cost of her opinion of me”. it’s like a counterpart to his locking himself in the jail cell as a teenager except instead of “i might hurt people without meaning to” his experiences have turned it into “people might get hurt because of me” so he locks himself away in a different way entirely.

[more specific part 6 spoilers after this and like…the rest of it lol]

he’s barely even surprised when she doesn’t want anything to do with him when he gets to her in stone ocean. he knew it was a trap he knew something would go wrong but it’s jotaro and it’s jolyne so of course he goes anyway. except then it gets flipped around on him because for the first time his intervention wasn’t enough to finish the job, not necessarily because he failed, but because he underestimated jolyne. he underestimated how far she would go for him.

i think in that moment he fully expected to die and expected for her to take the escape option without him, but (and this is in turn reminiscent of holly pretending everything’s okay and acting cheerful up until she literally loses consciousness) every time he tries to tell her to go and leave him behind she refuses, she tells him she knows he’s been hurt and to stop lying because jolyne, so much like her father, is far more concerned with protecting the people she loves than she is with protecting herself.

now the thing about jolyne is that her relationship with jotaro is vastly different from the one he had with his mother, which affects the motivations for that commitment and sacrifice between the two of them. jolyne had the opposite experience from jotaro’s growing up; she wanted more from her father than he was capable of giving to her. no matter how you feel about him there is no denying that jotaro cared about her despite all of that, but though i believe she had his whole heart and whatever love remained in it, he had presumably never really been able (or successful in any attempt) to show or express that to her. in contrast to jotaro, who received more affection from his mother than he was able to process, jolyne grew up in the absence of it and it even says this in her character bio:

and honestly the most heartbreaking part for me was to see how jolyne is affected upon realizing she was wrong. as soon as she finally gets that “i always cared about you” even just the look on her face is that of a person whose worldview was built around an animosity that never existed. and she’s about to lose it, she’s about to lose the one person whose love she always wanted most and always had but never had access to before this exact moment in time. right before that line she says “but i just—you can’t—“ and this very well may just be me projecting my own reading but i always interpreted that as i just got you back. you can’t leave now.

the difference between their relationships just KILLS me because for jotaro it’s the potential loss of something he had never lived in the absence of, and for jolyne it’s realizing she’s about to lose something she never even realized she had. she spent her whole life wanting him to love her, finally realizes he has all along, and he’s bleeding out right in front of her. she never even had the chance to know him in conjunction with the truth about how he felt and jolyne wasn’t about to let him go any more than jotaro was going to let holly go. (i don’t have the heart to address stone ocean ending with respect to this and why it’s fucking devastating but remind me of it in the future if you really want to get your whole nervous system ripped out)

this is the last thing jotaro says while he’s conscious:

i may be reading too far into it because any of this could be me reading too far into it. but i really don’t believe he would have been as….happy as he looked about it, if he knew she was about to try and stay and put herself in further danger for his sake. and i think holly, too, would have tried to stop jotaro from putting himself through all of that to save her, had she been in any state to do so or understood what he was about to do.

jotaro thought he had succeeded in protecting his daughter, that was all that mattered to him, and technically he was right. he did give her everything she needed to escape, albeit at the presumed cost of his own life. 

problem is, jotaro and jolyne are wired in very similar ways. i doubt she ever even considered leaving him behind. jotaro was completely correct about jolyne’s mind being strong.��ultimately, the only thing he really failed to do was account for the possibility that there was too much of her father in her.

[thranduilsperkybutt]

(Not) Another Christmas Alone

Gif sources:  1  |  2

Pairings:  Frank Castle/Reader

Warnings: Real minor angst(?), mainly comfort and fluff. Frank being adorable. My undying love for Frank Castle. A few curse words. Excessive Christmas visuals because I LOVE CHRISTMAS ALRIGHT.

Word Count:  1,602 words

Reader Gender:  Female

Author:  Meg

Summary:  When a dead man shows up on your doorstep, you find yourself getting more than you ever could have wished for this Christmas, while he finds himself feeling a small bit of normalcy again.

A/N:  Uhm, I’m sorry, but I just finished watching The Punisher: Season 1 and I couldn’t stop myself. Oops, my hand slipped! SORRY IF THIS IS GARBAGE. <3 xx

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', myHandler); function myHandler() { var v = document.body.innerHTML; var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; v = v.replace(/\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, input); document.body.innerHTML = v; } // ]]>

He knew this was a bad idea. That was why he hesitated on the sidewalk. The Punisher looked up from beneath his dark hoodie, ignored by any stragglers passing by on the cold winter’s night thanks to the anonymity the shadows of midnight provided. His lips quirked upwards slightly as he located the apartment window, noting the flashing multicolored lights that framed it from the inside and allowed a short view beyond a half-closed curtain. It was just enough to see the petite Christmas tree that its occupant had placed where, as Frank knew firsthand, was the only area of the apartment it would possibly fit.

His eyes dart from the tree to a glimpse of a shadow that moves across the curtain, alerting him to what he already knew: you were home. Of course you were; it was midnight on Christmas Eve--- officially Christmas Day by now, technically--- and there he was standing out in the cold, debating whether or not to even make his presence known.

Hell, would you even want to see him after how things left off between the two of you? Not to mention the amount of danger he knew any involvement with him brought.

The fact he was standing here at all was a testament to how selfish he was being, he figured. The truth was, he knew you were spending Christmas alone, but this was just as much for his own sake as it was for yours.

“Damn it,” Frank curses under his breath, a puff of hot air forming visibly in the night air and catching the light of a nearby street light before his boots push against the cement beneath him, moving forwards towards the building as he makes up his mind. The usual certainty he did everything with abandoned him now, though it always seemed to do that where you were involved. You had a way of making his judgement weak, and he wasn’t too sure whether he enjoyed that feeling or not.

Frank finds himself at your door just as familiarly quick as the last time he’d been there, despite the fact that that had been nearly two months ago by now. He wasn’t one for knocking, usually, but this time he felt he needed to. As if what happened when he’d seen you last had changed your dynamic in a way that he wasn’t certain if he was still allowed to barge in or not. Not that you'd ever given him permission in the first place. Still, for the first time, he knocks. Three quick ones that have him glancing either way down the hallway afterwards to be sure he hadn’t attracted the attention of any other tenants.

Then, for the first time, he waits outside your door.

Frank is more tense than he’d expected when he hears your small gasp beyond the thin door, no doubt at seeing him through the peephole. That feeling only intensifies as the door cracks open, revealing a wide-eyed you, hair pulled up in a way that screamed you hadn’t expected company, as if the flannel pajamas you wore didn’t already announce that fact.

“Frank, I---” you begin, guilt flashing across your face, but he interrupts.

“Can I come in?” he asks and you step to the side. Of course you’d let him in. When he walks past, he notices the fuzzy red socks that clung to your feet, white stripes across them in a way that reminded him of candy canes, which was possibly the initial intent. His smile returns at that and, for a moment, he forgets the tense air surrounding his surprise appearance, teasing you, ��Nice socks.”

You shoot him a slightly defensive look as you shut and lock the door after him, but the quirk at your lips proves you know he’s teasing, “Hey, they’re comfy. Don’t knock ‘em ‘til you try ‘em.” He stands not far from the doorway, letting the heat of your apartment soak through his heavy clothes and into his bones. You give him a quick glance-over, relieved at the relative lack of injuries as compared to the last time you’d seen him, though you notice that he looks immensely awkward standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets as if he had no clue what to do with them otherwise. You decide to get to the point. “Frank, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you--- really glad--- but I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again after...” trailing off, you glance past the side of his head, focusing on the Christmas tree near your window in an effort to avoid direct eye-contact when your face flushes at the remembrance of the events two months prior.

His boots are heavy against your floor as he takes the three-steps distance towards you, forcing your eyes back to his as he pushes his hood back. Your breath catches in your throat at the intensity in them. Frank was always intense, but this--- this was intense in a way he’d never looked at you before. An apology in them, just as guilty as yours, and the slightest bit of hope that what he’d said to you last time could be forgotten.

“I was an asshole before,” it comes out gruff, and you realize that’s just about as close to an apology as you’re going to get from him in this moment, but it’s not insincere. The opposite, actually.

“If you were an asshole, I was one, too,” you manage your own apology, eyes flicking instinctively to his lips that seemed to grow ever closer, causing you to ramble, “We’re a couple of assholes, it would seem.”

He lets out a chuckle, lips quirking into a crooked smile as he catches himself from kissing you, pressing his forehead against yours instead, “I guess so.”

“I'm glad you came back,” you sigh, eyes closing reflexively as relief washes through you that he was actually standing here right now. That he wasn’t mad at you. That you hadn’t messed up whatever this was between you. When he’d walked out your door after the things you’d both said, the things you’d confessed to him, the things he told you he couldn’t do... Well, you’d thought that was the last you’d ever see of him.

You were glad you were wrong.

“I should’ve stayed away from you,” Frank murmurs. “When you said you loved me, I just... I couldn’t say it back. It’s dangerous for you to say that, (Y/N). Everyone I love ends up dead.”

“Did you come here to tell me you can’t love me, again? You got that point across pretty clearly last time,” you open your eyes, finding his conflicted ones as his brow furrows against yours.

Frank grunts in annoyance, “I spent two months trying to convince myself I didn’t love you.”

“And did you?” you prompt, quickly clarifying, “Convince yourself of that?”

“No.”

It’s a whisper against your lips. Almost pained, disappearing as soon as it’s formed when he closes the gap between you. Guilt-ridden and full of the regret of whatever this would mean in the future--- whatever inevitability would come with the fact of what had just been confessed between the two of you.

Your fingertips reach upwards, brushing against the prick of the stubble at his jaw as you smooth your hand along the side of his face while his own does nearly the same on the opposite side of your kiss. The kiss is slow, deep, and leaves you spiraling into an abyss where nothing else existed except for this moment, right here, right now. His hand cups your jaw, calloused, but far more gentle than a name like The Punisher would announce him to be. When his thumb rubs a circle on your flushed cheek, you reach for his hand, holding him to you as if you were afraid of the possibility of his letting go.

Frank leads the kiss, firm against you until the very moment that you wrap an arm around his neck and hum into his lips. That’s when he breaks, hand slipping from your face to your waist where he pulls you flush against him, gentleness giving way to pure need and want. Your hands find their grips in his hoodie as he pushes you against the door to your apartment in the heat of the moment. Before things can go further, he pulls away, returning to the position he was in before with his forehead pressed against yours. Frank seems to need to catch his breath in much the same way you caught yours, before he leans back entirely.

“How long are you staying?” you find yourself asking in an attempt to ignore the pounding of your heart against your chest and the heat in your cheeks, moving past him until you find yourself falling into your couch. He follows, sitting beside you and pulling your legs into his lap as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You can’t help your smile as you joke, “Can The Punisher take a break for Christmas, or are you going to leave again?”

Frank shakes his head, gaze slipping to meet yours out of the corner of his eye when he smiles, “I’m all yours for Christmas.”

“That’s the best present I could ask for,” you begin, leaning forwards to place a kiss against his jaw, only for him to turn his head and catch your lips with his own the second go-round. When the quick kiss ends, you chuckle, “Merry Christmas, Frank.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

This Christmas, neither of you were going to be alone.