#I was expecting the screen protector to be like. cracked at least but NO its literally fine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whump-a-la-mode · 4 years ago

Note

I request fluffy fluffity fluff with feverish, injured villain, hero caretaker, painkillers and a kitten. Please.

This is so cute ヾ(•ω•`)o I don’t write a lot of fluff, but this is some cute cute sick fic. Hero caretaker? Check. Painkillers? Check. A kitten? You know it! Thanks so much for the ask!!

CW//Fevers, injury mention, intoxicated/feverish character, painkillers

The text had been unexpected, to say the least.

That wasn’t to say that Hero wasn’t unused to receiving messages, especially strange messages. Half of the time, a buzz on their phone indicated that they were about to have the record for ‘weirdest thing they’ve ever seen’ broken.

Yet, this text said nothing of giant lizards attacking downtown, or a mad scientist’s experiment gone wrong. So, perhaps, to a normal civilian, it would have been quite a normal message to receive.

“Hey, Hero? I have a really big favor to ask.”

From another hero, it would have been quite the daunting request. But, it was not from another hero. At least, not in the traditional sense.

Hero had known Doctor for quite some time-- hell, every powered person in the city knew Doctor. In some ways, they were more of a hero than the rest of them, put together. While most hospitals flinched and scurried away from the world of villains and vigilantes, Doctor embraced them wholeheartedly.

A particularly egregious wound, carved in the heat of battle? A power malfunction? Any one of these things could result in the doctor being awoken in the middle of the night, an exhausted, limping hero upon their doorstep.

Or, a villain. Doctor insisted upon making their policy for such things very, very clear. Adamantly, they refused to involve themself in the matters of heroes and villains. Their battles, their allegiances, to the doctor were all naught. As they explained it, no matter one’s actions, no matter their beliefs, no one deserved to have their wounds go untreated.

Thus, their home had quickly become a neutral ground. Lifelong sworn nemeses could have their injuries wrapped mere feet from one another, and not one glare would be shot. In Doctor’s presence, there were no heroes or villains. Only patients. Only those who needed aid.

But, it was the first time that Hero had been on the receiving end of such a request. Of course, they were not about to refuse the doctor. With how much help they had given them, it would only be right to return the favor.

“What is it?” Hero tapped in reply.

Given the length of the doctor’s response, the three dancing progress buttons hung on Hero’s screen for far too long.

“Do you know Villain?”

It wasn’t a name they’d ever expect to hear in a conversation so casual. Villain. Though Hero did not consider themself to truly have a nemesis, if they had to define one, it was Villain who would be on the very tippy top of their list.

That was, especially after their battle the day prior. Their wounds still screamed at them, no matter how they tried to quiet them with painkillers and icepacks.

“I know Villain.” Hero replied simply.

“Okay. Do you think you could take care of them for a few hours?”

Instantly, the conversation shot up to the top of their list of ‘strangest possible talks to have over the phone.’

Take care of them? Take care of Villain? What cold they have possibly gotten themself into that required Hero, of all people, to aid them?

Then again, they had looked quite rough after their battle...

They had no need to question, as Doctor continued on their own:

“They’re sick. I need to go to work, but they shouldn’t be left alone, right now. I know it’s a big favor, but they need this, Hero.”

They bit their lip.

As a protector of the city, they had a very, very long list of priorities, and upon that list, helping Villain in any way, shape, or form was at the very bottom. Helping Doctor, on the other hand...

“Okay.”

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It was only upon arriving to front door of Doctor’s home that Hero had a rather odd realization: Never before had they been to that place in a completely stable state of mind.

If they had made the decision to bother the doctor, it meant that, whatever injuries or illness had befallen them, they could not manage it on their own. Thus, far more often than not, when they stood in front of this home’s door, they did so with a head full of cotton and legs formed of gelatin.

Now, however, their mind was not clouded by any malease. Instead, it was clouded by the stark realization that they had, perhaps, just made a terrible decision.

By the time they had arrived at the house, however, it was already far too late. When Doctor opened their front door, Hero knew full well that there was no turning back.

The doctor looked terribly bedraggled, and they could not help but wonder if it was wise for them to even go to work in such a condition. Yet, every powered person in the city knew far better than to distrust Doctor’s judgement.

“Thank you.” The medic began, a warm smile creeping onto their cracked lips. “I know this was awfully short notice, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who would know Villain as well as you.”

Well, Hero certainly knew what Villain’s fist felt like, crashing into their face, though that was about it.

“Okay, come on, come on.” The doctor rushed. “I need to be heading out soon.”

The hero nodded, hurrying after them into the building. It wasn’t exactly a sprawling thing-- certainly not large enough to house all the equipment that it did-- but, nonetheless, it functioned, through some miracle.

Against their prediction, Doctor did not lead them to the home’s makeshift infirmary. Instead, they moved to the cramped dining room, which, truly, consisted of little more than a table with just enough chairs to seat a guest or two. The house itself was not impressive, its owner only made it so.

But, Hero had seen that dining room, barren table and all, more times than they could count. There was nothing unusual to be seen about it. No. The strangeness of the hour came in the form of who, exactly, was seated there.

Villain.

Oddly enough, either they had forgotten to take off their ostentatious garb, or they had simply not had the time. The villain’s cape draped over their shoulders as they hunched over, forehead pressed to the table’s surface. A full glass of water and a small pile of crackers sat near them, untouched.

Hero bit their lip. Seeing their nemesis was never a good thing, of course, but something about this simply made their heart stutter.

“What’s wrong with them?” They began, before their voice took on a more panicked pitch. “They’re okay, right? They’re gonna make it?”

Doctor snorted.

“Hero, they’re fine. They say they had a fight, overexerted themself a bit.”

A fight? Oh, god, was this all their fault?

“But... They look terrible.”

“They just have a fever.” Doctor reassured. “Power exertion is nothing to scoff at, but I promise, they’re not in any serious danger.”

Hero hummed. “Then, why did you bring me here?”

“Because we need to make sure they stay out of serious danger. They can hear you, by the way, so don’t be an ass, please. But, yes, I’m confident this fever will break, so long as it stays down.”

“You’re putting them in my hands?”

“Yes. I trust you. Seriously, Hero, you look like a deer in the headlights. I’m not asking you to perform open heart surgery, here.” They smiled playfully. “All you need to do is keep them cool and keep them comfortable.”

“What does that entail?” Nervously, they chewed the inside of their cheek.

“Not a lot. Keep a wet washcloth on their head, make sure they drink water.” As the doctor glanced to the nearest clock, they began to hurry their words. “There’s a thermometer on the counter. If their fever goes over 103, call an ambulance. But, as long as its below that, you’re safe.”

“And... keeping them comfortable?”

“Just... try to get them to sleep. It won’t be easy for them, in this state. But if you can manage it, it’ll be a lot better. Oh, and, there’s Advil in the drawer. Give them some if they’re uncomfortable, okay? Okay, I really need to go, so, you got all that?”

“Uh- I think so?”

“Good. Okay, bye! Remember, above 103, call an ambulance. What temperature is dangerous?”

“103.”

“Great. Thank you so, so much! I’ll get you like, some chocolates or something. Bye!”

By the end of their speech, Doctor’s words had sped to the point of blending into one long stream of syllables. They tossed a coat over their shoulders, shoving their feet into their already-tied shoes.

“Oh, and try not to kill each other, okay?”

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Hero was alone.

They supposed that wasn’t entirely true. In fact, it was quite far from the truth. The house was anything but empty-- their nervous glances to the dinner table’s current guest ensured them of that. But, that did not help the chord of nerves that wrapped itself about their stomach.

Power exertion was nothing to be scoffed at.

Though they weren’t alone, they were the only one in the situation who could be described as responsible. It was they who had to keep their nemesis alive. And, worse... comfortable.

How were they supposed to rock their sworn enemy to sleep? Maybe, a good place to start would be stopping staring at them like some kind of creep.

Yeah. They should probably do that.

The hero inhaled through their nose, letting out a long exhale from their mouth, before approaching the table. Throughout the whole conversation, the villain had not so much as raised their head-- their movements coming only in the slightest of twitches.

Standing at the stalled villain’s side, Hero could not help but feel to have walked into the den of a lion. Yet, not the slightest movement was made. In an attempt to gently draw their attention, they ghosted their hand over their nemesis’s shoulder.

“Hey, Villain?”

There was a twitch, and a groan, but nothing that could be described as words.

“Um, Doctor is gonna have me take care of you now, okay? Can you look at me? I think I’m supposed to take your temperature.”

If the villain had been listening before that point, there was little indication. Had they already been asleep? Had Hero already ruined everything? Either way, blearily, Villain lifted their head, unfocused eyes fixing on the wall before their face.

Placing their hand to their forehead, Hero nearly jerked their palm away. Their skin felt like the burner of a hot stove. But, if Doctor said they were okay...

“How are you feeling?” As they spoke, they felt the slightest bit of the doctor’s voice slip into theirs. That soft, coaxing tone that all medical providers seemed to be able to imitate. “You haven’t touched your water.”

“Mmm...” The fevered villain murmured. “Can’t...Swallow.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Mmm.” They were unsure if that was an affirmation or not.

“Okay. Um, well, the doctor says you need water. Let’s get you some water, then... What do you need, Villain?”

The villain blinked, seeming, by all accounts to be on another planet.

“I’m cold...” At last, they muttered a pair of coherent words. “And hot...” Well, maybe not so much on the coherent part.

What was it that Doctor had said? Something about keeping their head cool. That was it, right?

“Okay, um. I’ll cool you down, and warm you up, okay?”

“Hero!” It was an excited cry, even with the way the syllables all blurred into one another. “Hero...”

“Yeah, Villain?”

“Hero, I looooove you.”

Oh.

No, they were just feverish. Delusional, they probably didn’t even know where they were. They had no clue what they were saying, just making sounds.

“I’m gonna go get you a blanket.” Hero spoke hurriedly, rushing off to do just that. For a few moment, they dashed about the house, gathering supplies and, hopefully, not rummaging too much through Doctor’s things. When, at last, they returned to the kitchen, it was with a dripping-wet washcloth and a bottle of tylonel.

Villain, so it seemed, had fallen back into their half-restful state, head on the table. With a gentle hand, Hero tipped their chin up, brushing the washcloth over their forehead.

“You want something to help with the pain, bud?”

“Head hurty.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

They placed down the washcloth, and, in an exercise in tedium, coaxed a pair of white pills down the villain’s throat, alongside a wash of water. Hopefully, it would be enough, as a snowball would make it too the depths of hell before any more water went down.

“I have everything set up on the couch. Can you walk?”

“Mmm... Carry me... I love you!”

“Y- Yeah, alright.”

Despite the feverish villain’s words filling Hero’s chest with an odd sensation, they obliged, plucking them from the chair and draping the washcloth over their forehead, taking care to ensure that no water would drip its way to their eyes.

The couch, as opposed to most of the furniture in the house, had seen some serious use. With only one bed in the building, when a hero was wounded with such severity that an overnight visit was necessitated, it was upon the couch that they slept. Though, luckily, use had not worn away any of the seat’s comfort.

A large, white, puffy comforter had been draped over the seats, and, upon laying Villain down, Hero secured the blanket around their body, tucking it in in the corners and ensuring that no draft would disturb them.

It was all medically necessary, of course.

Though, they couldn’t help but giggle at just how ridiculous their nemesis appeared, dwarfed by the fluffy comforter, face half covered by a rag.

“Alright.” Hero smoothed a hand over Villain’s hair-- to make sure they weren’t sweating excessively, of course. “Are you alright? Comfortable?”

“I love you! Love you...”

“Okay. Well, do you need anything?”

“Sleep...”

“You’re tired?”

“Sleepytime.”

“Alright, bud. Sleepytime.”

They couldn’t help but smile.

With a few more strokes through their hair, the fevered person soon let their muscles go limp, sacrificing themself to the whims of the blanket they were half-submerged in. The sight alone was enough to make Hero’s own eyelids droop.

It wasn’t like they could disturb the villain while they slept-- no, they needed their rest far too much for that-- and, there wasn’t anything else threatening the city...

What would a nap hurt?

Though there was no certainly no room on the seat for another full-grown human, that was a problem easily solved. In a blink of white light, Hero’s bleary form was replaced by that of a feline, with a countenance just as exhausted.

The felidae-turned hero leapt onto the couch, settling themself near the edge, before shifting themself against Villain’s feet.

To know if they woke up.

After all, it was very medically necessary.

#villain whumpee #villain whump #sickfic #fluff #fluff fic #hero caretaker #whumpblr #whump community #ask

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chrysalizzm · 4 years ago

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regarding the first enderwalk arg doc

subtitle: a scattered compendium of a braincell hitting the corners of my brain and intermittently producing a single (1) coherent thought

i’m screaming. for a first crack at an arg (as far as we know) this was really solid. the deleted tweet (/a/) and url in the brightened screen leading to imgur.. [chef’s kiss] brill.

/smp /rp from here on out

(i think the crossed out “do you not remember do[scribbles]” is, as the wonderful @appleflavoredkitkats pointed out in our server, probably “doomsday”; the “phys[scribbles] might be the tail end of “altered physique” as an effect of enderwalk; the last scratched-out phrase could be either “harnessed” or “harmful”, with different reasoning for each.)

anyway, regarding the document itself: first off, it seems to me like a scientific document with annotations? it’s referring to a group called “the enderwalkers”, but i don’t think it’s purely historical, or if it is, it has ties to the medical history of them; you don’t really expect a purely historical document to list the “effects” and “classification” of a group of people. the doc might be about the enderwalk state itself, and just referring to under its influence as “enderwalkers”. but i digress.

the fonts: it could be argued, i think, that there are three fonts there - the curly one that has the bulk of the knowledge about enderwalkers, the bradley hand font that is probably???? ranboo’s, and the thick marker that i’m toying with the idea of it being enderwalk ranboo. the thick marker crosses out the “circ-” in the opening line (which i think is a cut-off “circa”, with the date being elsewhere on the page) as well as the “do not let this happen again”. there’s potential for the other crossed-out lines being ranboo rather than enderwalk ranboo due to the disparity in line thicknesses, as well, but it doesn’t really make sense when you consider that the crossed-out lines are potentially beneficial to ranboo or whoever’s reading the book that wants to help ranboo, so for now i’ll stick to thinking it’s all enderwalk ranboo. which now begs the question: where the hell did this document come from and who wrote it?

i’m typing this out as i think it but the first person that comes to mind is karl’s library, if only because of the “clock” hint cc!ranboo dropped; it’s a stretch for sure, but karl is the only person i can think of off the top of my head who might have access to books like these (with a lot of knowledge that might otherwise not be available; ranbob and/or ranbutler might also play into this). other than that, this book kind of falls into the same camp as the resurrection book in that they’re both pretty significant but no one (save a character or two) even knows of their existence, and since we don’t know where the resurrection book is from or who wrote it, the enderwalk book is sorta up in the air, too.

as for who wrote it: mm. if the “karl’s library” line of thinking pans out, it could be literally anyone, since the man travels through time, babey. anyone from any past, present, or future could have written this; hell, the contents of the book might even just be about ranboo himself, a recounting of events following the downfall of an ew!enderman (and is enderwalk exclusive to endermen/endermen hybrids?? i’m screaming) that everyone knew. if it’s not from karl’s library, it narrows down the possibilities way more; if we’re pulling just from the current cast that’s actively involved in lore, i can see foolish, phil, techno, or dreamxd???? potentially??? having penned the doc, with three out of the four being confirmed gods and/or immortals and smpearth being semi-canon (though i may be wrong). out of those four i think techno’s the least likely just because he’s the least canonically acquainted with the end, and phil and xd the most likely for the opposite reason (phil’s hc worlds are semi-canon, i believe, and xd is literally the protector of the end), with both having had enough time to have seen stranger things happen to the people of the end.

a smaller note but pogging at the “classification: genetic” thing because it’s pretty solid evidence that the enderwalk state is Not, In Fact, caused by c!dream (though he’s probably able to trigger it somehow) (not that the ccs haven’t said that outright multiple times cough cough)

but - yeah. ranboo arg brainrot strong. i might add on more later because i’m positive i haven’t hit everything but i have class in two minutes

#mcyt #dream smp #dream smp meta #dsmp analysis #dream smp analysis #enderwalk #ranboo #enderwalk arg #ranboo arg #chrys writes #chrys rambles #long post

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years ago

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A Yandere!Toshinori/OC piece for the very lovely @evaesis, featuring her character, Kit, and a *nasty* case of Stockholm Syndrome, even if it presents itself rather sweetly. It’s just nice to write some consensual smut for once, honestly.

Word Count: 3.0k

TW: NSFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Knotting, Delusional Mindsets, Mentions of Kidnapping and Implied Stolkholm Syndrome.

Kit liked to think it was her natural sense of curiosity.

She didn’t like Toshinori, that much should’ve been common sense. She couldn’t bring herself to hate him, not after spending so much time as his coworker, his confidant, his friend, but she refused to let herself enjoy his company, too. He’d kidnapped her, for fuck’s sake, taken her away from the life she loved, slapped quick-canceling cuffs around her wrists just strong enough to block the more problematic parts of her quirk, and locked her inside of a fortress masquerading as an idyllic, woodsy mansion, too far from the nearest neighbor to be anything but a prison, albeit a comfortable one. When pressed, his only explanation had been his fading power, the last of which was long-gone, by now. She’d pushed him for something more substantial, something logical, but the only thing Kit had to show for it was an unreasonable sense of guilt and a slew of consolation gifts, the latter only working to fuel the former.

She had to resent Toshinori. She needed to resent Toshinori.

What kind of person was she, if she couldn’t even hate her kidnapper?

That was why curiosity had to be the only reason behind her current position - laying on her stomach on the floor of Toshinor’s living room, a computer opened and poised less than an arm’s length away, her eyes never wandering from the screen. It was a modified laptop, made so she could search and browse whatever she wanted, but couldn’t put anything of her own out into it. The kind captured criminals would be given for good behavior. Still, it worked well enough for her intents, the small monitor displaying the shakey, blurry image of All Might in his prime, his brightly colored costume ripped to shreds and something she couldn’t quite make out embedded in his side. A knife, she guessed, or a piece of broken glass. Anything was possible, in the chaos of a real fight.

It was an older video, one taken only a few years after his debut, but Kit couldn’t seem to drag her attention away, not while Toshinori wasn’t home and she had so little to do. She’d seen it before, she must’ve. Everyone had. Everyone knew Toshinori was an idol, a Hero, one who took down all the big, dangerous bad guys less dedicated Pros couldn’t seem to topple. Distantly, she remembered what it’d been like to fight with him, beside Toshinori rather than against him. She’d always been one of the more nervous Heroes, seemingly the only one who could never beat that sense of terror, constant peril, dread. She did her best to be brave, but she wasn’t brave - she wasn’t supposed to be brave. She didn’t have to be. She just had to be heroic.

He was different, though.

Anyone who’d ever been in the same room as him could feel it. He was brave, and valiant and strong, strong enough to pick up the slack whenever she couldn’t dodge a piece of falling debris or reach a civilian in time. She appreciated him, she wasn’t afraid to admit that to herself. He was a good man, beneath all the paranoia and insecurity. He was a Hero.

A protector.

The title stirred something inside her, below her rational disposition and within her omega instincts, giving a voice to a part of her she’d always done her best to suppress. The desire to be protected and the engrained, hereditary guilt that came with rejecting that protection when it’s offered, especially by an alpha, an apex, at that. It wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to, but she couldn’t seem to fight it off, this time, not as the video feed in front of her refocused, All Might and his nameless foe coming into view. Her tails bristled, winding around each other and flicking aimlessly, and her ears flattening against her scalp, but she relaxed as the enemy was quickly subdued, their powers no challenge for Toshinori’s abilities. She wasn’t sure why she’d been worried, no threat was a challenge to him, not in his prime.

He’d retired, though, hadn’t he? She knew he had, she’d watched the fight live. That’d been the first time Kit hugged him, too relieved to do anything but wrap her arms around him and cry silently, if only because he’d come so close to failing, to not being there for her. How long had she’d been nice to him after that? A week, two? How quickly had she’d gone back to being awful, to trying to escape and fighting and hurting him, even if all Toshinori ever did was frown and kiss the top of her head and bandage the wound she’d manage to give herself while attempt to scale the seamless steel wall that surrounded the property. It was a miracle he hadn’t given up on her already, honestly. Leave her behind and chosen an omega who was grateful to have him, an omega who didn’t fight and run and snarl at every opportunity. Crime levels were rising outside, too, villains instilled with a new confidence now that All Might was no longer the one sent to deal with them.

Kit’d never fought in a world without All Might, before. Most Heroes hadn’t.

She didn’t want to fight with a world without All Might.

She pushed herself up, abruptly, gritting her teeth and slamming her laptop shut with so much force, she worried she’d cracked the screen. It took her more pacing than she’d like to admit before she could settle herself, calm her nerves and regain her composure. There was nothing to worry about - she knew what she had to do. If Toshinori would still have her, at least.

He was away, now, tending to one of UA’s scandals and smoothing over the concerns his absence had caused. He’d be back in three days. Four, if she was lucky.

Kit picked up her computer with a sigh, already forming a list in her mind. She had some shopping to do, if she really wanted to earn his forgiveness.

She hadn’t expected it to feel this warm.

Kit was an omega, she knew that, she wasn’t naive. This wasn’t her first heat, and she doubted it would be her last, but she’d spent so long under so much stress, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been affected by her cycle. There were vague memories of teenage hormones, talks of suppressants with doctors who were trying very hard not to blush, but she’d forgotten how hard it was to combat on her own, how sticky the air seemed to turn, how impossible it became to think.

Toshinori on his way - she knew he was. He was already home, the last press conference he was expected to attend having ended earlier that day, but despite his oncoming arrival, she couldn’t seem to sit still, to wait. Her thighs kept clenching, her legs beginning to ache where they were tucked underneath her, mussing up the bed she’d worked so hard to arrange. She’d tried keeping her hands at her sides, but they seemed to want to be anywhere else, fiddling with her hair or tugging at the fingers or crossing over her stomach, where a deep, embedded emptiness had formed, growing more unignorable with each passing second. Her skin was hot to the touch, but she wanted something even warmer to cling to, to rub against and leave her scent on. Her neck throbbed, making her aware of its blankness, how ashamed she should feel for not finding a reason to mar it. She wanted to be held, she wanted to be bitten, she wanted to be bre--

Something pulled her from her thoughts, a smell, a scent. Masculine and husky, so thick she could practically taste it in the air, the scent of an alpha who’d caught an omega in heat. The sound of the bedroom door swinging open was almost secondary, Toshinori’s entrance preceded by something much more enrapturing. Her mind went black, instinct threatening to take over, but she shook it off, focusing instead on Toshinori, or rather, the open-mouthed expression of shock slowly spreading across his features.

She knew what he saw. She hadn’t tried to be subtle, wanting her intentions to come across as blatantly as possible. A smirk pulled at the corners of her lips as she imagined how she must’ve looked, kneeling in front of him, head bowed and dressed head-to-toe in lace, the fabric sheer and thin, nearly translucent everywhere it wasn’t necessary. She’d tried to pick the most tasteful style she could, a respectful baby-doll in a shade of white bright enough to rival the tails winding around each other behind her back. Most importantly, the set was completed by a dainty, decorative collar around her neck, just big enough to draw attention to her mating mark, or lack thereof, rather.

Kit couldn’t help but laugh, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and pushing herself up. Toshinori didn’t move, didn’t speak, stuttering something unintelligible as Kit approached. He was a head taller than her, but Kit wasn’t fazed, wrapping his tie around his first and jerking him down to her height, only letting go to nuzzle against the crook of his neck, her arms soon finding their way to his shoulders. She purred, softly, the sound foreign, even to her. She’d never really tried. She’d never had a mate to purr to.

But, she had a mate, now. And like hell she was going to start resisting her instincts when she’d already come so far.

Toshinori was the first one to break the silence, coming out of his stupor and taking her by the biceps. She would’ve been surprised, if she wasn’t already so far lost in that warm, inviting haze. “This is… This is new,” He stammered, for lack of a better introduction. “Love, did something happen? This isn’t like you.”

“It isn’t,” She agreed, melting into Toshinori. “That’s the problem, right? I was so mean, and so selfish, I couldn’t think about anyone but myself. I thought you were being irrational, but I…” She trailed off, the words still awkward and stiff on her tongue. Luckily, confessions came easily when her lips were pressed against his skin. “I was wrong. I’m sorry about all those awful things I said.” She sighed, silently, moving in closer, seeking more of the warmth under his skin, only glancing towards his expression once she was settled. He made no attempt to hide his skepticism, a slight frown pulling at the corners of his lips. He didn’t quite believe her, not yet. She tried to sound more convincing, although her voice still found a way to tremble. “I’d like to make it up to you, if you’d let me.”

Toshinori opened his mouth, but he didn’t get the chance to speak. Before he could get a word out, something in Kit’s chest pounded, the reverberation running down her spine and shooting straight into her unprepared, unfilled core. She doubled over before she could stop herself, digging her nails into the jacket of his suit and letting out something between a cry and a moan, whatever discomfort she felt multiplying. Again, he moved to express his concern, but she stopped him. “Toshi-” One hand rose to the faux-collar, all-but tearing at the thin fabric. She didn’t want anything in her way, in his way. “Alpha.”

She’d barely finished when what was left of Toshinori’s resolve snapped, dissolved, disappeared. She yelped as an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her off her feet and throwing her onto the bed behind them, leaving her to squirm and writhe, each movement leaving her aware of the fresh slick staining her thighs, the white silk of her panties quickly turning translucent. Meanwhile, Toshinori pulled wildly at his suit, disregarding buttons and knots in favor of ripping at whatever wouldn’t come undone quickly enough. Kit tried to move back, to find something to steady herself with, but Toshinori was faster, standing in front of her one moment and on top of her the next, a hand around her neck, ready to squeeze at the slightest hint of resistance.

“What a daring omega, dressing up like a whore and tempting your alpha,” He muttered, his voice low, rough, almost verging on aggressive. Kit’s lips parted, but all she managed to release was a strangled whine as Toshinori’s free hand ghosted over her chest, brushing against her side before finding its target, cupping her cunt and dragging another pained sound from her throat. A finger traced the length of her covered slit teasingly, what was left of her self-control fading as the urge to be filled by something, anything replaced it. She didn’t want to think, grinding against the pitiful sensation and seeking out any friction she could get, her pride be damned. Toshinori only chuckled, pressing a thumb against her clit and reveling at how quickly her breath hitched in her throat. “How long have you been planning this? That outfit must’ve taken quite a bit of time to find… unless someone’s had this little number in mind since I brought her home.”

“N-No!” The denial was weak, only spurring Toshinori on, her panties soon around her knees, allowing Kit to kick them away. The babydoll didn’t last much longer, soon ripped down the middle and shoved away as his focus shifted, falling towards her chest. In the blink of an eye, a hickey was being sucked into the top of her breast, then its twin to match. His mouth closed around her nipple, suckling and licking until the peak was sensitive and pebbled, but Kit was impatient, her sex swollen and soaked and screaming for attention. Swiftly, she entangled her fingers in his hair, tugging just hard enough to get his attention. “It hurts,” She mumbled, voice barely loud enough for him to hear. As if on cue, something inside of her began to ache, the sensation nearly bringing tears to her eyes. “I want it, Toshi’, I want you. I can’t wait any longer.”

He paused, for a moment, going still. “Darling, I haven’t even--”

“Please.” She was whining, now, pleading with him, even if her eyes were shut as tightly as they could’ve been. “I need to be mated, alpha.

That was all it took. She heard a belt unbuckling, the rustle of fabric, and just like that, she got what she wanted, what she’d beg for. A thick cockhead dragged across her entrance, but that was all the warning she got before he was pushing inside her, Kit’s cunt providing as little resistance as it possibly could. He groaned as he sunk, proceeding slowly and letting her adjust, but his self-restraint could only last so long. By the time he was hilted, Toshinori was growling into her neck, searching for something he couldn’t quite reach. Something he wasn’t going to stop looking for until he found.

Kit hardly had time to whimper before he was pulling out, a hand latching onto the base of her tails and wrenching her over, barely giving her time to bend her knees before she was being dropped, forced to support herself as Toshinori slotted himself against her back. He’d lost his delicacy, his caring touch, opting instead to give in to his own instincts, driving his cock into the deepest parts of her and abusing any spot that made her keep and cry and bury her face in the bedsheets. Her yearning was overwhelmed, forced into submission by pleasure, fulfillment. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, something sharp and ruthless embedded itself in her neck, her scent gland, no doubt leaving a string of bruises and puncture marks in its wake.

A mating mark.

Her mating mark.

Instantly, every sensation became white-hot electricity, frying her nerves and exploiting them, turning each touch, each thurst into something euphoric. Her body wrapped around his with a religious devotion, her back arching and moans forcing themselves through her lips unabashedly. Toshinori was no better, any sounds he might’ve made muffled by how snuggly his face was pressed into her shoulder, but the way his uneven pace stuttered and sped up was unignorable, a tell-tale sign to his own reaction. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” He panted, more for himself than for her. “My beautiful omega, my perfect omega. My omega.”

“Alpha…” She mewled, her end approaching too quickly, too suddenly. Without warning, she was clenching around him, the world turning white and her mind going blank as she bucked against his hips, craving anything she could get that would prolong her state of elation. She didn’t have to worry, though. Toshinori steadied himself on the small of her back, taking in a ragged breath before shuddering, forcing something much bigger through her tight entrance. It took her a moment to comprehend what the swell testing the walls of her cunt was, but the realization wasn’t an unpleasant one, not when she figured out what exactly was filling her to the brim.

His knot.

All Might’s knot.

He called out incoherently as he came, his seed claiming her inside and out, painting her walls and seeping out around his cock, dripping over her thighs. Between attempting to catch her breath and Toshinori’s gentle, comforting ministrations, everything else seemed to fade into the background, Kit simply laying bad and letting big, careful hands position her amongst an array of pillows and blankets. She just sought his warm, her arms wrapping around his torso and refusing to let go. She felt him comb through her hair, but he was smiling when she glanced up blearily, the extent of her exhaustion suddenly dawning on her. “My mate,” He whispered, bending down to peck at her lips between words. “My wonderful, beautiful mate. Sleep, sweetheart. Don’t keep yourself awake.”

She didn’t argue, only nodding and burrowing into his chest, listening to his heartbeat as she began to fade out of consciousness.

She’d never felt more protected.

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 5 years ago

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Ostracized as usual Denise loudly tells every one she's making corn dogs and asks if they want some...

Then she asks Nathaniel in Spanish how many.

I'm in my room with my door shut and nothing but the air on... I'm not deaf and she opened my daughter's door to ask her and she rejected the offer.

But Denise is acting really cheerful like I knocked something loose other than her scalp loose.

I feel like it's fake but tree says i was going at least 60 mph and my very good quality glass screen protector cracked all the way across... And my phone screen was being weird after, showing green dots where i typed... Which isnt normal...

So like I mean i fucked her up... Like enough to do something to her brain? Or is it like dopamine and shit for pain still going in her chemical system?

I think it's fake... Idk... I don't trust her.

Tree says I fucked her up straight to her brain and knocked some tar loose.

I guess...

But it's weird... Cause she's never cheerful...

Like I'm waiting for us all to die. She could have some frontal lobe pressure that is really doing her a number though... Taking out that psycho sociopath shit She has usually.

That's probably it... If nothing else...

Oh they tell me she had tar injected up past her eye into her skull between her brain and skull... And it got knocked loose...

Well that is fucking weird.

She shouldn't be ostracizing me then! I think she's plotting...

She will be the happy one and I'll be the mean miserable one and so no one will mind if I go missing then she will go back to being psycho

Or she will be all "I kicked you out. Get out" but be all "no.not me.I'm the nice one. You have seen this"

Tar syndrome can't save us all.

Apparently she didn't even tell my Uncle Dad but i did. I wrote an email to him at that police station because i thought i was going to jail And I was not gonna have her go lie about that. Where I was or what i did. So i told him exactly in chronological order without many details exactly.

And I admitted to busting her head open.

Which tree posted and our replies.. And explanation of my adoptive father's existence.

But no way was she gonna go just tell her side. Sure to the cops fine. But not any where else. Not like I expected him to bail me out but I wanted him to know the truth and all that. Because she lies about Everything.

And i figured she would lie about where I was or what happened. Because i didn't know what was going on to be honest and i was all "man I'm fucking going to jail cause she's fucking bleeding because I couldn't control myself and did what I wanted to do for so fucking long"

It was worth one night in jail no charges. You know what i mean? Like just one. Then like "you know what? Forget about it my husband said this was bad to press charges on my kid" type shit

Like "drunk tank me" then let me go.

It was hot in the truck and I wanted to go sit in the shade on the sidewalk but i didn't trust her she got Nathaniel to give me a ride and i was all this bitch is gonna leave my ass stranded the first step I make out this truck.

Because that was what she wanted in the first place!

What the fuck. Its not the first time she's pulled over in that exact spot but before i told her i would get out and she was all "forget it" and I told her "you do that again and I'm gonna beat your ass"

She laughed in my face

And well I pounded her head in enough, apparently.

Excuse me but I get fucking mail on Monday even if it's a holiday. The fucking bitch just took me on Saturday

What does she think? The tooth fairy brought it?!?!

Just goddamed already.

A fact is a fucking fact. I loose my goddamed shit sometimes.

I don't even remember even talking to her. I just remembered like next thing I knew her hair was in my hand and I was all ... Wait what am I doing? Yes I want to do this and I used both hands to yank the shit out of it. 2x

The 2nd time because i could. Because she really tried to hit me! Ugh.

The 3rd time.. Like i knew the second she pulled out from the stop when she told me to,get the fuck out she was taking me to the police station and that is why i pulled her hair

Cause I was like bitch.

Then the 3rd time I planned that... I was gonna make it good if she turned on that street... But I didn't know what my brain knew subconsciously because I was all hey body what are you doing? Cell phone Stabbing her skull?! Not what I had planned but okay! Sure why not.

Then i was all fucking damit it i broke my nail. This is bad. I shouldn't did that plus she was bleeding allover the place and i was all this is it

I can't even pretend I didn't do it. Its too late

I couldn't lie my way out if I tried. I didn't feel bad. I didn't feel scared. I didn't fucking care any more

I was pissed at myself because my kid was gonna be stuck without a mom. Even temporary. Just for a night.

That's why I told my Uncle Dad. Like I said I wasn't looking for bail. But I knew he would want the truth and he always told me to tell it.

So even if I wasn't sorry I still had to admit what I did, for my kid. He always told me that. "Just tell the truth even if you're not sorry. Even if you're proud"

"But doesn't that prove guilt in the eyes of the law?"

"It doesn't matter"

He'd yell... 'Does this look like court? I'll get you a lawyer!' Cause I'd ramp up a huge thing But... The end of the game..

Just tell the truth.

That's what I learned from him.

Maybe my kid would be super pissed and I would deserve her hate at me for not caring about her and being stupid for 10 minutes.

Because it was. It was stupid.

And I'm lucky she didn't press charges and the only reason she didn't is because she's a horrible person and did horrible shit to me as a kid and my Uncle Dad always has taken my side Because I am honest and good and he has always told her she will find a new place to live if she ever presses charges on his kids.

Thats why I got him this shirt for father's day which I already gave him

2..

But yeah my kid would beat my ass if my Uncle didn't have that threat on Denise.

And I would deserved it.

So y'all people fucking around. I'm not a hypocrite. I know what I deserve for what I did.

I know it wasn't right

I owned up to it and I was ready to accept the punishment although I didn't want to. If she chose to, I had no other choice

She was dripping blood all over her shirt at s very rapid pace and she should have gotten stitches.

I feel kinda bad that she didn't. But she chose to lie and hide what really happened.

No one should be treated like she was.

If you are in a relationship like she is

A family like she is

A home she is

You should leave.

I don't say that because i hate her

I say that because we abuse her.

She abuses us. So, we eye for an eye and abuse her back.

So watching that video with no other information. Anyone in a relationship like that should leave.

Y'all know me and our history and so it's different

But no back story and out of context.. It was out of control and could be manifested into a different kind of tale.

And most people in the world shouldn't be treated like she was

If I was her and I was someone else that was say a boyfriend not DNA4U approved or stranger... I would thrown me out of the car, too. And I have, in the past.

So out of context what she did, driving to the police station... Was kinda the right thing to do but I beat her ass and that part is usually deserted but Jack called ahead because he knew I was hitting her and he knew in ESP connection what she was planning. Just as i did.

It is what caused her head to bleed. Like I said I planned it.

She should had went to a gas station or other public places that would been safer ... Especially how that police department is situated.

The back door is open. Not the front. But Jack sent someone out because he knew.

So... If any of you are in that situation you should press charges.

Next time they could kill you

I blacked out. Had she not been driving, i may had killed her.

Im being honest.

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grigori77 · 5 years ago

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2019 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 3)

10. HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON: THE HIDDEN WORLD – while I love Disney and Pixar as much as the next movie nut, since the Millennium my loyalty has been slowly but effectively usurped by the consistently impressive (but sometimes frustratingly underappreciated) output of Dreamworks Animation Studios, and in recent years in particular they really have come to rival the House of Mouse in both the astounding quality of their work and their increasing box office reliability. But none of their own franchises (not even Shrek or Kung Fu Panda) have come CLOSE to equalling the sheer, unbridled AWESOMENESS of How to Train Your Dragon, which started off as a fairly loose adaptation of Cressida Cowell’s popular series of children’s stories but quickly developed a very sharp mind of its own – the first two films were undisputable MASTERPIECES, and this third and definitively FINAL chapter in the trilogy matches them to perfection, as well as capping the story off with all the style, flair and raw emotional power we’ve come to expect. The time has come to say goodbye to diminutive Viking Hiccup (Jay Baruchel, as effortlessly endearing as ever) and his adorable Night Fury mount/best friend Toothless, fiancée Astrid (America Ferrera, still tough, sassy and WAY too good for him), mother Valka (Cate Blanchett, classy, wise and still sporting a pretty flawless Scottish accent) and all the other Dragon Riders of the tiny, inhospitable island kingdom of Berk – their home has become overpopulated with scaly, fire-breathing denizens, while a trapper fleet led by the fiendish Grimmel the Grisly (F. Murray Abraham delivering a wonderfully soft-spoken, subtly chilling master villain) is beginning to draw close, prompting Hiccup to take up his late father Stoick (Gerard Butler returning with a gentle turn that EASILY prompts tears and throat-lumps) the Vast’s dream of finding the fabled “Hidden World”, a mysterious safe haven for dragon-kind where they can be safe from those who seek to do them harm. But there’s a wrinkle – Grimmel has a new piece of bait, a female Night Fury (or rather, a “Light Fury”), a major distraction that gets Toothless all hot and bothered … returning writer-director Dean DeBlois has rounded things off beautifully with this closer, giving loyal fans everything they could ever want while also introducing fresh elements such as intriguing new environments, characters and species of dragons to further enrich what is already a powerful, intoxicating world for viewers young and old (I particularly love Craig Ferguson’s ever-reliable comic relief veteran Viking Gobber’s brilliant overreactions to a certain adorably grotesque little new arrival), and like its predecessors this film is just as full of wry, broad and sometimes slightly (or not so slightly) absurd humour and deep down gut-twisting FEELS as it is of stirring, pulse-quickening action sequences and sheer, jaw-dropping WONDER, so it’s as nourishing to our soul as it is to our senses. From the perfectly-pitched, cheekily irreverent opening to the truly devastating, heartbreaking close, this is EXACTLY the final chapter we’ve always dreamed of, even if it does hurt to see this most beloved of screen franchises go. It’s been a wild ride, and one that I think really does CEMENT Dreamworks’ status as one of the true giants of the genre …

9. TERMINATOR: DARK FATE – back in 1984, James Cameron burst onto the scene with a stone-cold PHENOMENON, a pitch-perfect adrenaline-fuelled science fiction survival horror that spawned a million imitators but has never truly been equalled. Less than a decade later, he revisited that universe with a much bigger and far bolder vision, creating an epic action adventure that truly changed blockbuster cinema for the better (or perhaps worse, depending on how you want to look at it), but, with its decidedly final, full-stop climax, also effectively rendered itself sequel-proof. Except that Hollywood had other ideas, the unstoppable money machine smelling potential profit and deciding to milk this particular cash cow for all it was worth – on the small screen, it was the impressive but ultimately intrinsically limited Sarah Connor Chronicles, while on the big screen they cranked out THREE MORE sequels, Sony Pictures starting with straightforward retread Rise of the Machines and following with post-apocalyptic marmite movie Salvation, while Twentieth Century Fox then tried a sort-of soft reboot follow-up to T2 in Genisys. These were all interesting in their own way (personally, I like them all, particularly Salvation), but ultimately suffered from diminishing returns and whiffed strongly of trying too hard without quite getting the point. Cameron himself had long since washed his hands of the whole affair, and it looked like that might well be it … but then Skydance Productions founder David Ellison thought up a new take to breathe much needed new life into the franchise, and enlisted Cameron’s help to usher it in properly, with Deadpool director Tim Miller the intriguing but ultimately inspired choice to helm the project. The end result wisely chooses to paint right over all the pretenders, kicking off right where Judgement Day left off, and as well as Cameron being heavily involved in the story itself, draws another ace with the long-awaited ON-SCREEN return of Linda Hamilton in the role that’s pretty much defined her career, hardboiled survivor Sarah Connor. I’ll leave the details of her return for newcomers to discover, suffice to say she gets caught up in the chase when a new, MUCH more advanced terminator is sent back in time to kill unassuming young Mexican factory worker Dani Ramos (Natalia Reyes). Of course, the future resistance has once again sent a protector back to watch her back, Grace (Blade Runner 2049’s Mackenzie Davis), a cybernetically-enhanced super-soldier specifically outfitted to combat terminators, who reluctantly agrees to team up with the highly experienced Sarah in order to keep Dani alive. Arnold Schwarzenegger once again returns to the role that truly made him a star (of course, how could he not?), and he for one has clearly not lost ANY of his old love or enthusiasm for playing the old T-800, but revealing exactly HOW he comes into the story this time would give away too much; the new terminator, meanwhile, is brilliantly portrayed by Gabriel Luna (probably best known for playing Ghost Rider in Marvel’s Agents of SHIELD), who brings predatory menace and an interesting edge of subtle, entitled arrogance to the role of Rev-9. Ultimately though, this is very much the ladies’ film, the three leads dominating the action and drama both as they kick-ass and verbally spar in equal measure, their chemistry palpably strong throughout – Hamilton is as badass as ever, making Sarah even more of a take-no-shit survivalist burnout than she ever was in T2, and she’s utterly mesmerising in what’s EASILY her best turn in YEARS, while Reyes goes through an incredible transformative character arc as she’s forced to evolve from terrified salary-girl to proto she-warrior through several pleasingly organic steps … my greatest pleasure, however, definitely comes from watching Mackenzie Davis OWN the role of Grace, investing her with an irresistible mixture of icy military precision, downright feral mother lion ferocity and a surprisingly sweet innocence buried underneath all the bravado, thus creating one of my favourite ass-kicking heroines not just for the year but this past decade entirely. Unsurprisingly, in the hands of old hand Tim Miller (working from a screenplay headlined by Blade and Batman Begins scribe David Goyer) this is a pulse-pounding thrill ride that rarely lets its foot up off the pedal, but thankfully the action is ALWAYS in service to the story, each precision-crafted set piece engineered to perfection as we power through high speed chases, explosive shootouts and a succession of bruising heavy metal smackdowns, but thankfully there’s just as much attention paid to the characters and the story – given the familiarity of the tale there’s inevitably a certain predictability to events, but Miller and co. still pull off a few deftly handled surprise twists, while character development always feels organic. Best of all, this genuinely feels like a legitimate part of the original Terminator franchise, Cameron and Hamilton’s returns having finally brought back the old magic that’s been missing for so long. I’d definitely be willing to sign up for more of this – such a shame then that, thanks to the film’s frustrating underperformance at the box office, it looks like this is gonna be it after all. Damn it …

8. DOCTOR SLEEP – first up, before I say anything else about this latest Stephen King screen adaptation, I HAVE NOT yet got round to reading the original novel yet, so I can’t speak to how it compares. That said, I HAVE read The Shining, to which the book is a direct sequel, so I DO know about at least one of the major, KEY changes, and besides, this is actually a sequel to Stanley Kubrick’s MOVIE of The Shining, which differed significantly from its own source material anyway, so there’s that … yeah, this is a complicated kettle of fish even BEFORE we get down to the details. Suffice to say, you don’t have to have read the book to get this movie, but a working knowledge of Kubrick’s horror classic may at least help you get some context before watching this … anyways, enough with the confusion, on to the meat of the matter – this is a CRACKING horror movie by any stretch, and, for me, one of the strongest King horrors to make it to the big screen in quite some time. Of course it helps no end to have a filmmaker of MAJOR calibre at the helm, and there are few working in horror at the moment with whom I am quite so impressed as Mike Flanagan, writer-director of two of this past decade’s definitive horrors (at least for me), Oculus and Hush, as well as a BLINDING TV series adaptation of The Haunting of Hill House for Netflix – the man is an absolute master of the craft, incredibly skilled with all the tricks of this particular genre’s trade, and, as it turns out, a perfect fit with King’s material. Following on from The Shining, then, we learn what happened to the kid, Danny Torrance, after he and his mother left the Overlook Hotel in the wake of his father’s psychotic break driven by monstrous apparitions “living” in the cursed halls, following him from childhood as he initially shuns the psychic gifts (or “shine”) he was taught to use by the hotel’s late caretaker, Dick Halloran. It’s only in later years, as he fights to overcome his alcoholism and self-destructive lifestyle, that he reconnects with that power, just in time to discover psychic “pen-pal” Abra Stone, an immensely powerful young psychic. Which leads us to the present day, when Abra, now a teenager, becomes the target of the True Knot, a group of psychic vampires who travel America hunting and killing young people with psychic abilities in order to consume their “smoke” (basically the stuff of their “shines”), thus expanding their already unnatural lifespans – they’re tracking Abra, and they’re getting close, and only her “Uncle Dan” can save her from them. Ewan McGregor is PERFECT as the grown-up Dan, delivering one of his career-best turns as he captures the world-weary seriousness of someone who’s seen, felt and had to do things no-one should, especially when he was so very young, the kinds of things that colour a soul for their entire life, and he’s clearly DESPERATE not to become his father; newcomer Kyleigh Curran, meanwhile, is an absolute revelation as Abra, bringing depth and weight far beyond her years to the role, but never losing sight of the fact that, under all the power, she’s ultimately still just a child; there are also excellent supporting turns from the likes of Cliff Curtis as Dan’s best friend and AA sponsor Billy Freeman, Zahn McClarnon (Longmire, Fargo season 2) and Emily Lind (Revenge, Code Black) as True Knot members Crow Daddy and Snakebite Annie, and Carl Lumbly (Cagney & Lacey, TV’s Supergirl), who beautifully replaces deceased original actor Scatman Crothers in the role of Dick. The film’s tour-de-force performance, however, comes from Rebecca Ferguson as Rose the Hat, leader of the True Knot – they’re an intriguing bunch of villains, very well written and fleshed out, and it’s clear they have genuine love for one another, like a real family, which makes it hard not to sympathise with them a little bit, and this is none more true than in Rose, whom Ferguson invests with so much light and warmth and intriguing, complex character, as well as a fantastic streak of playful mischief that makes her all the more riveting in those times when they then turn around and do some truly heinous, unforgivable things … as horror movies go this is the cream of the crop, but Flanagan has purposefully kept away from jump scares and the more flashy stuff, preferring, like Kubrick in The Shining, to let the insidious darkness bubble up underneath good and slow, drawing out the creepiness and those most unsettling, twisted little touches the author himself is always so very good at. Intent can be such a scary thing, and Flanagan gets it, so that’s just what he uses here. As a result this is a fantastic slow-burn creep-fest that constantly works its way deeper under your skin, building to a phenomenal climax that, (perversely) thanks in no small part to the differences between both novels and films, pays as much loving tribute to Kubrick’s visionary landmark as the original novel of The Shining. For me, this is Flanagan’s best film to date, and as far as Stephen King adaptations go I consider this to be right up there with the likes of The Mist and The Green Mile. Best of all, I think he’d be proud of it too …

7. SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME – summer 20019 was something of a decompression period for fans of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, with many of us recovering from the sheer emotional DEVASTATION of the grand finale of Phase 3, Avengers: Endgame, so the main Blockbuster Season’s entry really needed to be light and breezy, a blessed relief after all that angst and loss, much like Ant-Man & the Wasp was last year as it followed Infinity War. And it is, by and large – this is as light-hearted and irreverent as its predecessor, following much the same goofy teen comedy template as Homecoming, but there’s no denying that there’s a definite emotional through-line from Endgame that looms large here, a sense of loss the film fearlessly addresses right from the start, sometimes with a bittersweet sense of humour, sometimes straight. But whichever path the narrative chooses, the film stays true to this underlying truth – there have been great and painful changes in this world, and we can’t go back to how it was before, no matter how hard we try, but then perhaps we shouldn’t. This is certainly central to our young hero’s central arc – Peter Parker (Tom Holland) is in mourning, and not even the prospect of a trip around Europe with his newly returned classmates, together with the chance to finally get close to M.J. (Zendaya), maybe even start a relationship, can entirely distract him from the gaping hole in his life. Still, he’s gonna give it his best shot, but it looks like fate has other plans for our erstwhile Spider-Man as superspy extraordinaire Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) comes calling, basically hijacking his vacation with an Avengers-level threat to deal with, aided by enigmatic inter-dimensional superhero Quentin Beck, aka Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal), who has a personal stake in the mission, but as he’s drawn deeper into the fray Peter discovers that things may not be quite as they seem. Of course, giving anything more away would of course dumps HEINOUS spoilers on the precious few who haven’t yet seen the film – suffice to say that the narrative drops a MAJOR sea-change twist at the midpoint that’s EVERY BIT as fiendish as the one Shane Black gave us in Iron Man 3 (although the more knowledgeable fans of the comics will likely see it coming), and also provides Peter with JUST the push he needs to get his priorities straight and just GET OVER IT once and for all. Tom Holland again proves his character is the most endearing teenage geek in cinematic history, his spectacular super-powered abilities and winning underdog perseverance in the face of impossible odds still paradoxically tempered by the fact he’s as loveably hopeless as ever outside his suit; Mysterio himself, meanwhile, frequently steals the film out from under him, the strong bromance they develop certainly mirroring what Peter had with Tony Stark, and it’s a major credit to Gyllenhaal that he so perfectly captures the essential dualities of the character, investing Beck with a roguish but subtly self-deprecating charm that makes him EXTREMELY easy to like, but ultimately belying something much more complex hidden beneath it; it’s also nice to see so many beloved familiar faces returning, particularly the fantastically snarky and self-assured Zendaya, Jacob Batalon (once again pure comedy gold as Peter’s adorably nerdy best friend Ned), Tony Revolori (as his self-important class rival Flash Thompson) and, of course, Marisa Tomei as the ever-pivotal Aunt May, as well as Jackson and Cobie Smoulders as dynamite SHIELD duo Fury and his faithful lieutenant Maria Hill, and best of all Jon Favreau gets a MUCH bigger role this time round as Happy Hogan. Altogether this is very much business as usual for the MCU, the well-oiled machine unsurprisingly turning out another near-perfect gem of a superhero flick that ticks all the required boxes, but a big part of the film’s success should be attributed to returning director Jon Watts, effectively building on the granite-strong foundations of Homecoming with the help of fellow alumni Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers on screenplay duty, for a picture that feels both comfortingly familiar and rewardingly fresh, delivering on all the required counts with thrilling action and eye candy spectacle, endearingly quirky character-based charm and a typically winning sense of humour, and plenty of understandably powerful emotional heft. And, like always, there are plenty of fan-pleasing winks and nods and revelations, and the pre-requisite mid- and post-credit teasers too, both proving to be some proper game-changing corkers. Another winner from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, then, but was there really ever any doubt?

6. US – back in 2017, Jordan Peele made the transition from racially-charged TV and stand-up comedy to astounding cinemagoers with stunning ease through his writer-director feature debut Get Out, a sharply observed jet black comedy horror with SERIOUS themes that was INSANELY well-received by audiences and horror fans alike. Peele instantly became ONE TO WATCH in the genre, so his follow-up feature had A LOT riding on it, but this equally biting, deeply satirical existential mind-bender is EASILY the equal of its predecessor, possibly even its better … giving away too much plot detail would do great disservice to the many intriguing, shocking twists on offer as middle class parents Adelaide and Gabe Wilson (Black Panther alumni Lupita Nyong’o and Winston Duke) take their children, Zora (Shahadi Wright Joseph) and Jason (Evan Alex), to Santa Cruz on vacation, only to step into a nightmare as a night-time visitation by a family of murderous doppelgangers signals the start of a terrifying supernatural revolution with potential nationwide consequences. The idea at the heart of this film is ASTOUNDINGLY original, quite an achievement in a genre where just about everything has been tried at least once, but it’s also DEEPLY subversive, as challenging and thought-provoking as the themes visited in Get Out, but also potentially even more wide-reaching. It’s also THOROUGHLY fascinating and absolutely TERRIFYING, a peerless exercise in slow-burn tension and acid-drip discomfort, liberally soaked in an oppressive atmosphere so thick you could choke on it if you’re not careful, such a perfect horror master-class it’s amazing that this is only Peele’s second FEATURE, never mind his sophomore offering IN THE GENRE. The incredibly game cast really help, too – the four leads are all EXCEPTIONAL, each delivering fascinatingly nuanced performances in startlingly oppositional dual roles as both the besieged family AND their monstrous doubles, a feat brilliantly mimicked by Mad Men and The Handmaid’s Tale-star Elisabeth Moss, Tim Heidecker and teen twins Cali and Noelle Sheldon as the Wilsons’ friends, the Tylers, and their similarly psychotic mimics. The film is DOMINATED, however, by Oscar-troubler Nyong’o, effortlessly holding our attention throughout the film with yet another raw, intense, masterful turn that keeps up glued to the screen from start to finish, even as the twists get weirder and more full-on brain-mashy. Of course, while this really is scary as hell, it’s also often HILARIOUSLY funny, Peele again poking HUGE fun at both his intended audience AND his allegorical targets, proving that scares often work best when twinned with humour. BY FAR the best thing in horror in 2019, Us shows just what a master of the genre Jordan Peele is, and it looks like he’s here to stay …

5. KNIVES OUT – with The Last Jedi, writer-director Rian Johnson divided audiences so completely that he seemed to have come perilously close to ruining his career. Thankfully, he’s a thick-skinned auteur with an almost ridiculous amount of talent, and he’s come bouncing back as strong as ever, doing what he does best. His big break feature debut was with Brick, a cult classic murder mystery that was, surprisingly, set in and around a high school, and his latest has some of that same DNA as Johnson crafts a fantastic sleuthy whodunit cast in the classic mould of Agatha Christie, albeit shot through with his own wonderfully eclectic verve, wit and slyly subversive streak. Daniel Craig holds court magnificently as quirky and flamboyant Deep South private detective Benoit Blanc, summoned to the home of newly-deceased star crime author Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer) to investigate his possible murder and faced with a veritable web of lies, deceit and twisting knives as he meets the maybe-victim’s extensive and INCREDIBLY dysfunctional family, all of whom are potential suspects. Craig is thoroughly mesmerising throughout, clearly having the time of his life in one of his career-best roles, while the narrative focus is actually, interestingly, given largely to Ana de Armas (Blade Runner 2049 and soon to be seen with Craig again in the latest Bond-flick No Time To Die), who proves equally adept at driving the film as Harlan’s sweet but steely and impressively resourceful nurse Marta Cabrera, whose own involvement in the case it would do the film a massive disservice to reveal. The rest of the Thrombey clan are an equally intriguing bunch, all played to the hilt by an amazing selection of heavyweight talent that includes Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Toni Collette and It’s Jaeden Martell, but the film is, undeniably, DOMINATED by Chris Evans as Harlan’s black sheep grandson Ransom, the now former Captain America clearly enjoying his first major post-MCU role as he roundly steals every scene he’s in, effortlessly bringing back the kind of snarky, sarcastic underhanded arrogance we haven’t seen him play since his early career and entertaining us thoroughly. Johnson has very nearly outdone himself this time, weaving a gleefully twisty web of intrigue that viewers will take great pleasure in watching Blanc untangle, even if we’re actually already privy to (most of) the truth of the deed, and he pulls off some diabolical twists and turns as we rattle towards an inspired final reveal which genuinely surprises. He’s also generously smothered the film with oodles of his characteristically dry, acerbic wit, wonderfully tweaking many of the classic tropes of this familiar little sub-genre so this is at once a loving homage to the classics but also a sly, skilful deconstruction. Intriguing, compelling, enrapturing and often thoroughly hilarious, this is VERY NEARLY the best film he’s ever made. Only the mighty Looper remains unbeaten …

4. CAPTAIN MARVEL – before the first real main event of not only the year’s blockbusters but also, more importantly, 2019’s big screen MCU roster, Marvel Studios president Kevin Feige and co dropped a powerful opening salvo with what, it turns out, was the TRUE inception point of the Avengers Initiative and all its accompanying baggage (not Captain America: the First Avenger, as we were originally led to believe). For me, this is simply the MCU film I have MOST been looking forward to essentially since the beginning – the onscreen introduction of my favourite Avenger, former US Air Force Captain Carol Danvers, the TRUE Captain Marvel (no matter what the DC purists might say), who was hinted at in the post credits sting of Avengers: Infinity War but never actually seen. Not only is she the most powerful Avenger (sorry Thor, but it’s true), but for me she’s also the most badass – she’s an unstoppable force of (cosmically enhanced) nature, with near GODLIKE powers (she can even fly through space without needing a suit!), but the thing that REALLY makes her so full-on EPIC is her sheer, unbreakable WILL, the fact that no matter what’s thrown at her, no matter how often or how hard she gets knocked down, she KEEPS GETTING BACK UP. She is, without a doubt, the MOST AWESOME woman in the entire Marvel Universe, both on the comic page AND up on the big screen. Needless to say, such a special character needs an equally special actor to portray her, and we’re thoroughly blessed in the inspired casting choice of Brie Larson, who might as well have been purpose-engineered exclusively for this very role – she’s Carol Danvers stepped right out of the primary-coloured panels, as steely cool, unswervingly determined and strikingly statuesque as she’s always been drawn and scripted, with just the right amount of twinkle-eyed, knowing smirk and sassy humour to complete the package. Needless to say she’s the heart and soul of the film, a pure joy to watch throughout, but there’s so much more to enjoy here that this is VERY NEARLY the most enjoyable cinematic experience I had all year … writer-director double-act Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck may only be known for smart, humble indies like Half Nelson and Mississippi Grind, but they’ve taken to the big budget, all-action blockbuster game like ducks to water, co-scripting with Geneva Robertson-Dworet (writer of the Tomb Raider reboot movie and the long-gestating third Sherlock Holmes movie) to craft yet another pitch-perfect MCU origin story, playing a sneakily multilayered, misleading game of perception-versus-truth as we’re told how Carol got her powers and became the unstoppable badass supposedly destined to turn the tide in a certain Endgame … slyly rolling the clock back to the mid-90s, we’re presented with a skilfully realised mid-90s period culture clash adventure as Carol, a super-powered warrior fighting for the Kree Empire against the encroaching threat of the shape-shifting Skrulls, crash-lands in California and winds up uncovering the hidden truth behind her origins, with the help of a particular SHIELD agent, before he wound up with an eye-patch and a more cynical point-of-view – yup, it’s a younger, fresher Nick Fury (the incomparable Samuel L. Jackson, digitally de-aged with such skill it’s really just a pure, flesh-and-blood performance). There’s action, thrills, spectacle and (as always with the MCU) pure, skilfully observed, wry humour by the bucket-load, but one of the biggest strengths of the film is the perfectly natural chemistry between the two leads, Larson and Jackson playing off each other BEAUTIFULLY, no hint of romantic tension, just a playfully prickly, banter-rich odd couple vibe that belies a deep, honest respect building between both the characters and, clearly, the actors themselves. There’s also sterling support from Jude Law as Kree warrior Yon-Rogg, Carol’s commander and mentor, Ben Mendelsohn, slick, sly and surprisingly seductive (despite a whole lot of make-up) as Skrull leader Talos, returning MCU-faces Clark Gregg and Lee Pace as rookie SHIELD agent Phil Coulson (another wildly successful de-aging job) and Kree Accuser Ronan, Annette Bening as a mysterious face from Carol’s past and, in particular, Lashana Lynch (Still Star-Crossed, soon to be seen in No Time To Die) as Carol’s one-time best friend and fellow Air Force pilot Maria Rambeau, along with the impossibly adorable Akira Akbar as her precocious daughter Monica … that said, the film is frequently stolen by a quartet of ginger tabbies who perfectly capture fan-favourite Goose the “cat” (better known to comics fans as Chewie). This is about as great as the MCU standalone films get – for me it’s up there with the Russo’s Captain America films and Black Panther, perfectly pitched and SO MUCH FUN, but with a multilayered, monofilament-sharp intelligence that makes it a more cerebrally satisfying ride than most blockbusters, throwing us a slew of skilfully choreographed twists and narrative curveballs we almost never see coming, and finishing it off with a bucket-load of swaggering style and pure, raw emotional power (the film kicks right off with an incredibly touching, heartfelt tear-jerking tribute to Marvel master Stan Lee). Forget Steve Rogers – THIS is the Captain MCU fans need AND deserve, and I am SO CHUFFED they got my favourite Avenger so totally, perfectly RIGHT. I can die happy now, I guess …

3. JOHN WICK CHAPTER 3 – needless to say, those who know me should be in no doubt why THIS was at the top of my list for summer 2019 – this has EVERYTHING I love in movies and more. Keanu Reeves is back in the very best role he’s ever played, unstoppable, unbeatable, un-killable hitman John Wick, who, when we rejoin him mere moments after the end of 2017’s phenomenal Chapter 2, is in some SERIOUSLY deep shit, having been declared Incommunicado by the High Table (the all-powerful ruling elite who run this dark and deadly shadowy underworld) after circumstances forced him to gun down an enemy on the grounds of the New York Continental Hotel (the inviolable sanctuary safe-house for all denizens of the underworld), as his last remaining moments of peace tick away and he desperately tries to find somewhere safe to weather the initial storm. Needless to say the opening act of the film is ONE LONG ACTION SEQUENCE as John careers through the rain-slick streets of New York, fighting off attackers left and right with his signature brutal efficiency and unerring skill, perfectly setting up what’s to come – namely a head-spinning, exhausting parade of spectacular set pieces that each put EVERY OTHER offering in every other film this past year to shame. Returning director Chad Stahelski again proves that he’s one of the very best helmsmen around for this kind of stuff, delivering FAR beyond the call on every count as he creates a third entry to a series that continues to go from strength to strength, while Keanu once again demonstrates what a phenomenal screen action GOD he is, gliding through each scenario with poise, precision and just the right balance of brooding charm and so-very-done-with-this-shit intensity and a thoroughly enviable athletic physicality that really does put him on the same genre footing as Tom Cruise. As with the first two chapters, what plot there is is largely an afterthought, a facility to fuel the endless wave of stylish, wince-inducing, thoroughly exhilarating violent bloodshed, as John cuts another bloody swathe through the underworld searching for a way to remove the lethal bounty from his head while an Adjudicator from the High Table (Orange Is the New Black’s Asia Kate Dillon) arrives in New York to settle affairs with Winston (Ian McShane), the manager of the New York Continental, and the Bowery King (Laurence Fishburne) for helping John create this mess in the first place. McShane and Fishburne are both HUGE entertainment in their fantastically nuanced large-than-life roles, effortlessly stealing each of their scenes, while the ever-brilliant Lance Reddick also makes a welcome return as Winston’s faithful right-hand Charon, the concierge of the Continental, who finally gets to show off his own hardcore action chops when trouble arrives at their doorstep, and there are plenty of franchise newcomers who make strong impressions here – Dillon is the epitome of icy imperiousness, perfectly capturing the haughty superiority you’d expect from a direct representative of the High Table, Halle Berry gets a frustratingly rare opportunity to show just how seriously badass she can be as former assassin Sofia, the manager of the Casablanca branch of the Continental and one of John’s only remaining allies, Game of Thrones’ Jerome Flynn is smarmy and entitled as her boss Berrada, and Anjelica Houston is typically classy as the Director, the ruthless head of New York’s Ruska Roma (John’s former “alma mater”, basically). The one that REALLY sticks in the memory, though, is Mark Dacascos, finally returning to the big time after frustrating years languishing in lurid straight-to-video action dreck and lowbrow TV hosting duties thanks to a BLISTERING turn as Zero, a truly brilliant semi-comic creation who routinely runs away with the film – he’s the Japanese master ninja the Adjudicator tasks with dispensing her will, a thoroughly lethal killer who may well be as skilled as our hero, but his deadliness is amusingly tempered by the fact that he’s also a total nerd who HERO WORSHIPS John Wick, adorably geeking out whenever their paths cross. Their long-gestating showdown provides a suitably magnificent climax to the action, but there’s plenty to enjoy in the meantime, as former stuntman Stahelski and co keep things interestingly fluid as they constantly change up the dynamics and add new elements, from John using kicking horses in a stable and knives torn out of display cases in a weaponry museum to dispatch foes on the fly, through Sofia’s use of attack dogs to make the Moroccan portion particularly nasty and a SPECTACULAR high octane sequence in which John fights katana-wielding assailants on speeding motorcycles, to the film’s UNDISPUTABLE highlight, an astounding fight in which John takes on Zero’s disciples (including two of the most impressive guys from The Raid movies, Cecep Arif Rahman and Yayan Ruhian) in (and through) an expansive chamber made up entirely of glass walls and floors. Altogether then, this is business as usual for a franchise that’s consistently set the bar for the genre as a whole, an intensely bruising, blissfully blood-drenched epic that cranks its action up to eleven, shot with delicious neon-drenched flair and glossy graphic novel visual excess, a consistently inspired exercise in fascinating world-building that genuinely makes you want to live among its deadly denizens (even though you probably wouldn’t live very long). The denouement sets things up for an inevitable sequel, and I’m not at all surprised – right from the first film I knew the concept had legs, and it’s just too good to quit yet. Which is just how I like it …

2. AVENGERS: ENDGAME – the stars have aligned and everything is right with the world – the second half of the ridiculously vast, epic, nerve-shredding and gut-punching MCU saga that began with 2018’s Avengers: Infinity War has FINALLY arrived and it’s JUST AS GOOD as its predecessor … maybe even a little bit better, simply by virtue of the fact that (just about) all the soul-crushing loss and upheaval of the first film is resolved here. Opening shortly after the universally cataclysmic repercussions of “the Snap”, the world at large and the surviving Avengers in particular are VERY MUCH on the back foot as they desperately search for a means to reverse the damage wrought by brutally single-minded cosmic megalomaniac Thanos and his Infinity Stone-powered gauntlet – revealing much more dumps so many spoilers it’s criminal to continue, so I’ll simply say that their immediate plan really DOESN’T work out, leaving them worse off than ever. Fast-forward five years and the universe is a very different place, mourning what it’s lost and torn apart by grief-fuelled outbursts, while our heroes in particular are in various, sometimes better, but often much worse places – Bruce Banner/the Hulk (Mark Ruffallo) has found a kind of peace that’s always eluded him before, but Thor (Chris Hemsworth) really is a MESS, while Clint Barton/Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) has gone to a VERY dark place indeed. Then Ant-Man Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) finds a way back from his forced sojourn in the Quantum Realm, and brings with him a potential solution of a very temporal nature … star directors the Russo Brothers, along with returning screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely, have once again crafted a stunning cinematic masterpiece, taking what could have been a bloated, overloaded and simply RIDICULOUS narrative mess and weaving it into a compelling, rich and thoroughly rewarding ride that, despite its THREE HOURS PLUS RUNNING TIME, stays fresh and interesting from start to finish, building on the solid foundations of Infinity War while also forging new ground (narratively speaking, at least) incorporating a wonderfully fresh take on time-travel that pokes gleeful fun at the decidedly clichéd tropes inherent in this particular little sub-genre. In fact this is frequently a simply HILARIOUS film in its own right, largely pulling away from the darker tone of its predecessor by injecting a very strong vein of chaotic humour into proceedings, perfectly tempering the more dramatic turns and epic feels that inevitably crop up, particularly as the stakes continue to rise. Needless to say the entire cast get to shine throughout, particularly those veterans whose own tours of duty in the franchise are coming to a close, and as with Infinity War even the minor characters get at least a few choice moments in the spotlight, especially in the vast, operatic climax where pretty much the ENTIRE MCU cast return for the inevitable final showdown. It’s a masterful affair, handled with skill and deep, earnest respect but also enough irreverence to keep it fun, although in the end it really comes down to those big, fat, heart-crushing emotional FEELS, as we say goodbye to some favourites and see others reach crossroads in their own arcs that send them off in new, interesting directions. Seriously guys, keep a lot of tissues handy, you really will need them. If this were the very last MCU film ever, I’d say it’s a PERFECT piece to go out on – thankfully it’s not, and while it is the end of an era the franchise looks set to go on as strong as ever, safe in the knowledge that there’s plenty more cracking movies on the way so long as Kevin Feige and co continue to employ top-notch talent like this to make their films. Eleven years and twenty-two films down, then – here’s to eleven and twenty-two more, I say …

1. THE IRISHMAN (aka I HEARD YOU PAINT HOUSES) – beating smash-hit superhero movies and unstoppable assassin action-fests to the top spot is no mean feat, but so completely blowing me away that I had NO OTHER CHOICE than to put this at NUMBER ONE is something else entirely. Not only is this the best thing I saw at the cinema this past year, but I’d be happy to say it’s guaranteed to go down as one of my all-time greats of the entire decade. I’ve been an ardent fan of the filmmaking of Martin Scorsese ever since I first properly got into cinema in my early adolescence, when I was first shown Taxi Driver and was completely and irrevocably changed forever as a movie junkie. He’s a director who impresses me like a select few others, one of the true, undisputable masters of the craft, and I find it incredibly pleasing that I’m not alone in this assertion. Goodfellas and The Departed are both numbered among my all-time favourite crime movies, while I regard the latter as one of the greatest films of the current cinematic century. I’ve learned more about the art and craft of filmmaking and big-screen storytelling from watching Scorsese’s work than from any other director out there (with the notable exception of my OTHER filmmaking hero, Ridley Scott), and I continue to discover more about his films every time I watch them, so I never stop. Anyways … enough with the gushing, time to get on with talking about his latest offering, a Netflix Original true-life gangster thriller of truly epic proportions chronicling the career and times of Frank Sheeran, a Philadelphia truck driver who became the most trusted assassin of the Northeastern Pennsylvania crime family and, in particular, its boss (and Sheeran’s best friend) Russell Bufalino, particularly focusing on his rise to power within the Philly Mob and his significant association with controversial and ultimately ill-fated Teamster boss Jimmy Hoffa. It’s a sprawling epic in the tradition of Scorsese’s previously most expansive film, Casino, but in terms of scope this easily eclipses the 1995 classic, taking in SIX DECADES of genuinely world-changing events largely seen through Sheeran’s eyes, but as always the director is in total control throughout, never losing sight of the true focus – one man’s fall from grace as he loses his soul to the terrible events he takes part in. Then again, the screenplay is by Steve Zaillian (Schindler’s List, Moneyball, Fincher’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo), one of the true masters of the art form, with whom Scorsese previously worked with on Gangs of New York, so it’s pure gold – tight as a drum, razor sharp and impossibly rich and rewarding, the perfect vehicle for the director to just prep his cast and run with it. And WHAT A CAST we have here – this is a three-way lead master-class of titanic proportions, as Scorsese-regular Robert De Niro and his Goodfellas co-star Joe Pesci are finally reteamed as, respectively, Sheeran and Bufalino, while Al Pacino gets to work with the master for the first time as Hoffa; all three are INCREDIBLE, EXTRAORDINARY, on absolute tip-top form as they bring everything they have to their roles, De Niro and Pesci underplaying magnificently while Pacino just lets rip with his full, thunderous fury in a seemingly larger-than-life turn which simply does one of history’s biggest crooks perfect justice; the supporting cast, meanwhile, is one of the strongest seen in cinema all year, with Ray Romano, Bobby Canavale, Anna Paquin, Stephen Graham, Harvey Keitel, Stephanie Kurtzuba (The Wolf of Wall Street), Jack Huston (Boardwalk Empire) and Jesse Plemmons among MANY others all making MAJOR impressions throughout, all holding their own even when up against the combined star power of the headlining trio. This is filmmaking as high art, Scorsese bringing every trick at his considerable, monumentally experienced disposal to bear to craft a crime thriller that strongly compares not only to the director’s own best but many of the genre’s own other masterpieces such as The Godfather and Chinatown. It may clock in at a potentially insane THREE HOURS AND TWENTY-NINE MINUTES but it NEVER feels overlong, every moment crafted for maximum impact with a story that unfolds so busily and with such mesmerising power it’s impossible to get bored with it. The film may have received a limited theatrical release, obviously reaching MOST of its audience when unleashed on Netflix nearly a month later, but I was one of the lucky few who got to see it on the big screen, and BELIEVE ME, it was totally worth it. Best thing I saw in 2019, ONE OF the best things I saw this past decade, and DEFINITELY one of Scorsese’s best films EVER. See it, any way you can. You won’t be disappointed.

#how to train your dragon the hidden world #terminator dark fate #doctor sleep #spider-man far from home #us #us movie #knives out #Captain Marvel #john wick chapter 3 #avengers endgame #the irishman #2019 in movies

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acryofpain · 6 years ago

Text

Whump Rewrites: Part 1

I’ve decided to take some of my favourite whump scenes from my favourite books and rewrite them to make them more, well, whumpy.

Excerpt from Chapter 3 of John Dies at the End by David Wong.

•••

“No, officer, I had work this morning. As you know. I went straight home last night.”

I knew I should be talking about the fake Jamaican. Only my knee-jerk impulse to never volunteer anything to cops was holding me back. That was stupid. Robert Marley should be sitting here, not me. He was the one handing out the black voodoo oil that seemed to have put a crack in the universe. That’s got to be a felony, right?

I thought about that shit, moving out of the syringe like a worm. Then I thought about that substance being inside John, and shivered.

“You feelin’ okay?”

I heard myself say, “Uh-huh.”

As I spoke, a strange, jittery energy rose up inside me, radiating from the chest out.

The syringe.

In my pocket.

Biting my leg.

The spot of blood.

Moving. Inside John. Inside me.

All of a sudden everything was too bright, like somebody turned up the saturation on all the colours in the room. Everything came into focus, a high-def signal. I spotted a moth on the opposite wall and noticed that it had a small tear in one of its wings. I heard a guy talking on his cellphone, and realized he was on the sidewalk outside of the building.

What the fuck?

I looked the detective in the eye and was startled to find I could see his next question coming before he even spoke it, word for word.

Have you heard the name...

“Have you heard the name Nathan Curry? Guy your age, parents own a body shop here in town?”

My heart was hammering. I muttered, “No.”

How about Shelby Winder?

“How about Shelby Winder? Heavy girl, senior at Eastern High? Ring a bell?”

“No. Sorry.”

Clarity lit up my mind like a sunrise. Everything was obvious now, all the walls of the maze turned to glass. I immediately knew two things: this list of people had all been at the party last night, and they were all now dead or heading there.

Now how do I know that? How do I know any of this? Magic?

You know damn well why. That black shit John took made blood contact with you. Now you’re getting high, partner.

The cop read off more names. Jennifer Lopez (not the actress, just a local girl), Arkeym Gibbs, Justin White, Fred something, and a couple others. The last one on the list was Jim Sullivan.

So Amy was right to worry.

I told him I didn’t recognize any of the names except Jennifer’s.

“You’re not outta school three years. You went to high school with most these people, but you only knew the one girl?”

“I kind of kept to myself.”

“And then you got shipped off to the other school –“

“Look, I’m not saying anything else until you tell me whether Jennifer’s alive or not. It isn’t confidential information and I deserve to know.”

Don’t bother. He doesn’t know.

“We don’t know. You see, that’s the problem; at least nine people were at the One Ball at closing time, twelve hours ago. Four of them are missing, one – your friend John – is here. The rest are dead.”

I turned and looked at myself in the one-way mirror. The image was distorted, the second cop – who’d been completely silent the entire time – out of range at the back of the room. What was left was just me and Morgan, the clean-cut protector of the people, standing tall over the slumped, unshaven kid in a battered video store t-shirt that looked suspiciously like it’d been wadded up on a car floorboard for two days. Good guy and bad guy. Trash man and trash.

The detective fired off a few more questions and the white cop across the room stepped forward, putting his hands on his hips, waiting for an answer. Morgan left his gaze on me, calmly waiting for the silence to be filled in. Old interrogation trick.

I turned my eyes away, suddenly sweating heavily. There was that tableau in the mirror again, just me and Morgan. I opened my mouth to explain – again – how my night had gone but the door opened and my words trailed off. Another cop ducked in and whispered something in the detective’s ear, and his eyebrows shot up before the two of them hurriedly left the room.

There was a commotion outside, hurried shouts and feet shuffling on tile. After a few minutes, Morgan stormed back into the room, looking disheveled.

No, no, no, no no no. Don’t say it.

“Your friend is dead.”

I was out of my chair before I knew it, halfway to the door.

“Wha– how?!”

The cop stopped me cold with a stiff arm to the chest. “Calm down. He went into convulsions or something and his pulse stopped but we got ambulances that’re gonna be here in about thirty seconds.”

I knocked his hand away from my chest and the silent cop dropped his arms to approach us, looking a little less shocked than what I would’ve expected. He probably wouldn’t have to fill out the paperwork.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” Morgan said through gritted teeth. “You’re gonna wait here. I’ll be back in five minutes and you’re gonna start telling me the truth. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this and if you obstruct me you will live the rest of your days wishing you had not.”

He stepped back, made sure I wasn’t going to rush the door, then turned out of the room. I stood there, lost, listening to the confusion of shouts and controlled panic outside. There were sirens out front. Ambulance.

My cell chirped and I jumped, heart thrown into a frenzy. I glanced toward the other officer, now standing placidly in the middle of the room, and gestured toward my pocket as if to ask if he minded. He said nothing and I dug my phone out of my pocket to answer it.

“Yeah.”

“Dave? This is John.”

“What? Are you –”

Alive?

“– in an ambulance or something?”

“Yes and no. Are you still at the police station?”

“Yeah. We were both –”

“Have I died yet?”

I couldn’t answer for a long second. What in the hell was going on here?

“Uh... yeah, according to the cops.” I glanced at the one nearby, who showed no interest in my conversation.

“Then there’s no time to explain all this. Get out of there.”

“What? John, no, I’ll be a fugitive,” I hushed my voice, turning away. “They know where I –”

“Dave. Get up, walk to the door, leave the room. Leave the building. See that big white cop standing there with you? Don’t look at him in the mirror.”

“Huh?” I glanced back at said cop. Something seemed off, all of a sudden.

“Just go. Now.”

I tilted my head a few degrees to the right –

don’t look at the mirror don’t look at the mirror

– and to the reflective surface of the mirror directly opposite of the cop.

It was just you and Morgan in there, Dave. Even after the other guy stepped forward.

In the mirror it was just me. Standing there, phone held to my ear. Alone. I spun around, eyes wide.

“I don’t understand.”

“He’s n– he’s not real. Dave.”

“He’s coming towards me!”

“Go! You’re gonna start seeing things like this from time to time. It’s important that you don’t freak out.”

The not-a-guy-I-guess was one step away from me now. His moustache twitched, as if he was starting to grin underneath it.

“So he, uh, can’t hurt me?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he can.”

A hand shot out and clenched around my face and I gasped. The fingers dig into my cheeks, squeezing, rigid as iron bars. I thought my teeth would crack into pieces and my eyes watered as pain began to throb in my jaw. He pushed me back and slammed me against the wall and I clawed at his arm but it was like trying to tear the limbs off a bronze statue. I smacked him across the nose with my phone, then worked my leg up and, with all my strength, shoved a knee into his gut just below the ribs. A jolt of sharp pain shot up my thigh following a small cracking noise, like I’d just tried to knee over a pile of cinder blocks, but I felt him give, jolted back by the force of the blow.

The cop reeled back and fell to a knee on the floor. I should’ve been free of him but the hand was still clamped down on my face –

Ah, look at that. His arm came off.

The man had a six inch bloody hole on one shoulder now and the detached arm, all on its own, whipped around my throat and coiled up like a python. No hint of bone in there now, the arm making two loops around my neck. I thrashed and desperately tried to pry it off, but the thing was all muscle, tense and wiry, slowly squeezing off my windpipe. Spots flashed before my eyes, lack of oxygen shorting out the wiring in my brain. I blinked and then the ground was closer than before. I was on my knees, the pain that was radiating through the injured one beginning to dull. The arm tightened even further and the room was starting to go dark and I was on all fours and I decided that the best idea was to just lay down right there and go to sleep.

Movement flickered in the corner of my eye. The rest of the cop’s body was up and walking calmly towards me. Shit. I clumsily crawled over to the door and felt fingers snatching at my shirt but I flung myself forward, my face smacking off the doorframe. Reaching up, I clawed around for the handle, barely sucking in air, my head feeling like it would burst at any second.

The handle turned and I shoved the door open, spilling out of the room in a mess of heavy limbs, and –

– and it was over. The thick bundle of armsnake had suddenly vanished from my neck and I gasped, wheezed, anything to fill my aching lungs back up. Black patches continued to float across my vision and my head was pounding worse than any hangover but I scrambled to my feet anyway and stumbled right out the front door, my body remembering John’s instructions even if I currently did not. No one tried to stop me. I hit the sidewalk but kept going, away from the building, away from lingering cops, until finally my knee gave out and I decided to plop down in a nook where two buildings conjoined.

My cellphone rang.

Shakily, I raised it, surprised that I still had it clutched in my hand. Cracks filled the entire screen but it still seemed to be working, so I put it to my ear.

What I meant to say was “Hello?” but all that really came out was a pained wheeze.

“Dave? It’s me.” It was John. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m... um...” My voice was scratchy and it hurt to speak. I kept going anyway. “Sitting. ‘Bout a block from the, uh... police station. Where’re you? Heaven?”

“If you figure that out, let me know. Right now, just don’t freak out. Are you freaking out?”

“I dunno,” I said, then coughed.

“Listen. You gotta get over to Robert’s place. There aren’t any cops over there now, but there will be. We have sort of a narrow window here. Go to Shire Village on Lathrop Avenue. It’s a trailer park south of town past that one candy place – you should be able to get there in twenty minutes.”

I ran the directions through my still-muggy brain, narrowing my eyes to tamp down the headache raging in my temples. It was a lot easier to breathe now and I inhaled slowly before exhaling at the same pace.

“Dave?”

“Um, yeah, yeah. Okay.”

“Okay. Hurry up.”

With a beep, the phone went dead.

#whump #prompt #rewrite #jdate #john dies at the end #tbifos #this book is full of spiders #injury #strangulation #choked #whumpee #headache

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writing-anomaly · 6 years ago

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Torn

Fandom: Jojolion

Summary: Yasuho’s life is tearing at the seams. The volatile Rokakaka trade is catching up to them and when Josuke unravels, Yasuho is pushed to her limit. She’s left more vulnerable than ever as she struggles to protect two men who barely know her.

This a story in which the protected must become the protector.

Chapter 5

"Feel free to call me daddy."

"Haha, I'd rather not." Yasuho, faked her best smile.

This Kaito guy was really pushing it.

She was trying her best to be open to the situation, but it was difficult.

Yasuho had to consciously refrain from throwing scowls in her mom's direction. It had only been a few moments since the couple first dropped the news that they had eloped. Yasuho had barely been able to stop her knees from buckling under her. Autopilot was the only thing sustaining her.

Part of her felt betrayed.

Although, surprise was not a word she would use to describe her thoughts on her mother's behavior. A woman who could ditch her own child was capable of anything. The unexpected was exactly Yasuho's expectation of her mother and without any further explanation, Suzuyo pushed her and Kaito to the dining room as she rushed into the tiny kitchen in the adjacent room.

Kaito pulled out a chair from the square glass table and looked expectantly at Yasuho, a sheepish grin etched into his angular jaw. She stared at him a moment before slowly approaching him, accepting the small olive branch; Despite the situation, she didn't want to appear rude by refusing his attempt at showing goodwill.

Though she dragged her feet along the way.

After she sat down, he pushed her chair up to the table with an ease that betrayed his lithe form. It was almost as if she were the guest in her own home.

Yasuho sighed.

She imagined this was all a part of one of her mother's grand schemes to glue her makeshift "family" together. And while her mother was preparing their fantastical Italian dinner, she had been left to "bond" with her new step-father, whom she'd only known existed for the last 10 minutes.

Kaito was...friendly, to say the least.

He had taken the initiative in spurring a conversation, talking animately as he attempted to tear down the uncomfortable wall of silence that stood between.

Of course, the usual impersonal topics were checked off the list:

"How's school?"

"What's your major?"

"What are your hobbies?"

To which she replied,

"Great."

"Computer science."

"Coding."

Yada, yada.

Her lips barely parted, expression solid like a marble slab, as she mechanically responded to his questions. She hated being forced in to social situations. Yasuho trained her eyes on her view of the oak floor through the polished surface of the glass table, noting the scratch marks from where its black metal leg had been pushed to and fro.

This was not how she, wanted to spend her night.

There were so many other issues to deal with, like finding new leads on the Rokakaka, or getting more clues on Josuke's past..and her head hurt just thinking about all the homework she needed to catch up on for her discrete mathematics class! Speaking of which, she wondered what Josuke was doing at the moment..

Nodding absent-mindedly at whatever Kaito was saying, she slowly slipped her phone from the pocket of her flower covered skirt so as to avoid drawing any attention to her actions. To her delight, the message alert was present.

A smile broke through her hardened facade.

Sucking her bottom lip slightly she opened her inbox. Thankfully, her phone was already set on silent mode, curtesy of Paisely Park; She didn't have to worry about it making any unattractive sounds.

Gingerly peaking into her inbox, she nearly squealed when she saw Joshuu's name..

..and by Joshuu, she meant Josuke who had heroically liberated the communication device from his adoptive brother.

Yasuho instantly caved, opening the messages:

Josuke: Glad you're home.

Josuke: I'm gonna get you for ditching me like that Yasu-chan! Not fair :p

"As if!" Yasuho thought to herself with a grin. She still owed him for the tickle attack back at his house. There's no way she'd let him win twice in a row!

But still..

She was overwhelmingly thankful for his playful text. The weight on her chest was beginning to lift. His humor, like an eraser, wiped away the self-bashing lies and guilt that toyed with her fear of failing him.

Josuke never seemed to dwell on the bad.

No, Josuke was like a gust of wind, refreshing and strong enough to whisk her away from her self-maintained pit of quiet hopelessness. Ad she found it incredible, how adept he was to treading above water, even though his own life was flooded within a sea of misery and misfortune.

Truly, she envied his inner strength..

The glass table began to vibrate slightly, with a persistent tap that derailed her train of thought, tossing the blinding glare of the reflected chandelier light into her eyes, which she closed to stop them from stinging. Her hands, which she held beneath the table, reached for her face instinctively at a poor attempt to further shield her eyes, only to bang her phone against the underside of the glass tabletop, knocking the device from her grasp with a deafening clang. Yasuho felt an unusual draft brush against her calf as she awaited the bang of her phone hitting the ground.

But the impact never came.

"My apologies.. I'm not enough to hold your attention."

The words rang relatively close to her, reverberating within the walls of her ear canal. Yasuho's eyes shifted upward in alarm, locking with Kaito's whose face was mere inches away.

Her nostrils grazed on the earthy scent of his cologne which was sobering like the dew of morning grass, mingled with the mint of his breath. His torso leaned heavily against the glass, in a way that expressed he could sleep at any moment as he gazed up at her through half-closed eyes.

Yasuho hadn't realized when Kaito had exchanged chairs to sit beside her.

Her eyes traced along his bicep, up his forearm, to the left hand on which he rested his head. There, in his palm was a small cellular phone that seemed disturbingly familiar.

..above the glass, without a scratch on it.

Confused, Yasuho looked down through the transparent table, spreading her feet apart to check if her phone was indeed laying on the ground.

The floor was clear.

Patting her skirt didn't produce the device either.

Yasuho spared a second glance at the phone in his hand and, as if on queue, Kaito teased the power button with his thumb. It lit up, immediately displaying a lock screen of her favorite sailor boy.

How did he..?

"Yasuho-chan." Kaito looked up at her from his lounging position His eyes gleeful as he pouted, teasingly. "It's rude to play on your phone when someone's talkin' to you. I'm sure Suzuyo taught you better."

"S-sorry!" She withdrew from him immediately with a small bow.

"That's quite alright." Kaito set her phone on the table, but made no effort in returning it to her. Instead, he playfully flicked the power button again to display the lock screen of Josuke's goofy face with a mouth full of fries. A long finger trailed the outline of Josuke's form. She watched him, annoyance growing as he began to chuckle lightly. "You have interesting tastes. He's a very special looking fellow."

Yasuho's eyes narrowed slightly, not caring for the tone of his voice. "He's amazing, actually. The best man I know."

She'd had enough of Kaito's taunting.

Something about the way he gazed at Josuke, left her feeling violated, like an excavated treasure pillaged by a man with no means of proper appraisal. She possessed few things of value, but the boy on the lock screen topped them all.

Cautiously, she reached for her phone, staring down her adoptive father, challenging him. As her hand covered the hard plastic surface of her cellphone, Kaito laid his hand atop of hers. Involuntary shivers ran down her spine when his icy cool digits made contact.

Yasuho paused.

"Why don't you try asking me a few question?" Kaito did not stop her from pulling her hand out of his loose grasp, taking her cell with her. He offered a wide grin to reset the conversation.

Yasuho regarded him warily.

Sighing, she leaned against the glass table. "So, how did you two meet?"

Kaito sat up in his chair. His crisp green dress shirt wrinkled when he crossed his arms over his chest. Looking off into space with a dreamy expression, he began his tale..

"Well, I was on my way to work when I saw this gorgeous lady near the crosswalk, haggling with a food vendor about the price of her donuts. I felt drawn to her so..I slowed my stroll to indulge in your sweet mother's angelic voice as she said, "..If I have to spend 2000 yen on a dozen donuts I expect them to be lined with gold!"

Yasuho stared in disbelief.

"..and I told myself, now that's a woman I can jive with. I offered to pay, and slipped my card in the box."

He gave a boisterous laugh as he added, "I also let her know that if she wanted a little help burning those calories off she knew where to find me."

A wide grin appeared on his face as he began flexing his eyebrows suggestively.

"Kaito!" Suzuyo had returned from the kitchen, red faced.

Yasuho and Kaito both shot straight up in their chairs as she slammed a large bowl of spaghetti on the table, gritting her teeth through a smile wider than humanly possibly. It was a miracle that she hadn't cracked the glass surface.

"Honey, I think you're confused, we actually met at the bookstore, haha. Remember?" Her tone was soft as she daintily placed a hand on her cheek.

"No...I don't read books for fun.. hun." His word were slow, as if searching his memories for a forgotten file.

"Yes you do!" Suzuyo screamed.

The smack of Yasuho's palm hitting her forehead and running down her face was lost in their bickering.

Yasuho awoke the next morning tangled in a soft selection of thick aqua colored bedding. Slamming her hand down on the wailing alarm clock sitting on the night stand, she cringed as she remembered the events of the night prior. Dinner played out smoother than she anticipated after Kaito conceded to her mother's insistence that she had indeed been haggling for books on quantum physics, and not donuts.

Yasuho didn't care one way or another about what their alibi was.

She inhaled her spaghetti and chugged her water, barely sparing a good night before she escaped to her room. The activities of the day had caught up with her eternal clock by then, pushing her into a dreamless sleep nearly as soon as her body touched her western-style bed.

Groaning, Yasuho forced herself to rise. Any further attempts at sleep would be in vain. Vibrant rays of the morning sun were breaking through the blinds of her window and attacking her light sensitive eyes. So she opted to pick her outfit for the day, along with a towel and wash cloth.

Yasuho was ready to head for the bathroom shower but paused when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror of her closet's sliding glass door. Her pajama shorts were comfy but a little revealing. It wouldn't be a problem if it were just her and her mother in the home, but she wasn't comfortable with Kaito's presence yet.

She decided to change into loose fitting flannels that swallowed her curves.

It would be best to avoid any potentially awkward situations.

Luckily, she was able to reach the bathroom without running into Kaito in the hallway. After a hot steamy shower she finished the rest of her hygienic routine and dressed herself in black tights underneath a pair of gold buttoned, navy blue daisy dukes, and a gold sweater with the word 'autumn' printed in black ink. A high ponytail and pair of black-heeled boots polished her attire.

Yasuho was sure she'd be able to escape the apartment without any human interaction but was disappointed when Suzuyo called her name from end of the foyer. Every fiber in Yasuho's being wanted to ignore her, but hesitation allowed her mother enough time to run up and hug her from behind.

"Good morning to you too, mother." Yasuho turned to face her.

"So, what do you think?" Suzuyo was still dressed in her usual red night gown, a flowery silk bonnet covered her hair.

"About what?" Yasuho played dumb, wanting to avoid the conversation entirely.

Suzuyo wasn't having it.

She gave her daughter a stern look, too tired to play games; She waited.

"..He's ok. I still don't know him..but you seem crazy about him so that's what matters." Yasuho noticed the fall in her mother's expression.

"He really is a great guy..kind and loyal in all the ways your father-"

"Don't!" Yasuho cut her off. Her voice erupted like a volcano from her tiny body. She turned to head for the door, finished with the conversation, only to be yanked back by the book bag she was carrying on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry! But he abandoned us both, Yasuho." Suzuyo's voice ground into her daughter's heart like a rusted knife. Her wet tears penetrated the back of Yasuho's sweater as she held tightly around her daughter's mid section.

"Are you done? I have to finish some research at the library."

"No. I need you to do something for me."

Yasuho should've expected as much.

Handing her a spare key from her pocket, Suzuyo explained, "I need you to drop this off at Kaito's workplace. He'll be staying with us for a while until we close on our new condo, in downtown Tokyo."

"Are you kidding me? I'm not even half way through the school year! We can't move."

"I said us. That doesn't have to include you."

Once again, Yasuho could feel herself being pushed to the outer edge of her mother's heart. With much effort, she smoothed the worry lines from her brow and reinforced the dam that held her tears at bay. Her bated breath was the only indication of her high emotional state.

"Why don't you take the key to him yourself?! I didn't marry him." Yasuho's words were strained. She willed her ears to close, not wanting to hear any more as Suzuyo persisted.

"I would, but he decided to treat me to a spa day. I wanted to take you with me but you seem so busy with school." Suzuyo could feel her daughter go limp in her arms. "Kaito is a good man, and he's taking his new fatherly duties seriously. I'm sure I could talk him into paying for you to stay her while you finish your studies. He loves me, which means he'll have to love you too because you're the most precious part of my life."

Yasuho looked at the silver key resting in the palm of her hand. It was attached to a red, heart shaped, key-chain her birth father had bought as a good luck charm. She was surprised her mother hadn't thrown it away as of yet.

It was a cheap trinket from her happier days as a child and prior to the ugly divorce of her parents.

It was in good condition.

The words inscribed on it were still legible:

"My Love"

Yasuho could feel the fight leaving her.

If her mother was dead set on Kaito, then so be it.

Resigned to the situation, Yasuho uttered the only words left to say. "Where does he work?"

"The University hospital off of 53rd street."

And with that, Yasuho pried her mother's arm off and slammed the front door behind her without so much as a farewell.

To be continued...

#Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo stands #jojolion #yasuho hirose #josuke higashikata #kira yoshikage #josefumi kujo #jojo part 8 #rock humans #rokakaka

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rkseongmin · 6 years ago

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sour taste. sopa school days solo. #1 tw bullying homophobia minor violence / fighting

the halls are clearing out as the school days was over. most students headed home, others going to club meetings or after school study sessions. some even just loitering around to kill time like one particular boy was.

hyunjoon didn't have a club meeting today nor did he have anything related to orion happening so he didn't have anywhere to be anytime soon. his mom would expect him home before night fall--or at least in the area--and he has no plans to hang around school forever. but he does want to kill time to miss the mass congregation of students are going home at the same time. he's hoping that by killing this time he can get onto the bus and actually have a spot to sit as opposed to being stuck standing in a squished much of yellow and annoying. that's not to say that he hates everyone he goes to school with, hyunjoon just doesn't enjoy being in crowds of people when he can't easily avoid it. especially when he doesn't have hyojeong with him. he can deal with them, but since the accident it's been harder for him to handle the crowds on his own.

he's perched on a ledge in a stairwell with his phone out watching the latest luxe comeback stages when he hears laughters coming from the floor above him. foot steps of a couple people come tapping down he knows whoever is laughing is on the stairwell on their ways towards him. typically this would not be a reason for him to tense up--but a week ago hyunjoon had been cornered by three upperclassmen (second years, he thinks) who had been all too eager to question him.

( "found your instagram--you're quiet popular, heo hyunjoon." The ring leader had said, his phone up and showing off the younger teens account which made him blink a bit in confusion otherwise no reaction was shown.

"see you were part of the mga4, remember watching that don't remember seeing you." the guy carried on, and his tone was giving hyunjoon the impression he should be wary. his eyes flickered between the phone and the teen in the middle, wondering where he was going with this. so far, he kept quiet, just wanting to see what would happen.

surely they would pick a fight.

"found some thin' else out that was quiet interesting." a post is clicked on and before the caption is even revealed, hyunjoon knows what they're looking at. he remembers writing it, and posting it, and not caring.

he still doesn't care.

“what of it?” he finally speaks, and all three of the boys look at him with looks of almost disgust. and he knows where this is going--he’s been here before. it causes him to tense, his body ready to run should he need to. he doesn’t want a repeat of his first year in middle school. doesn’t want to run the risk of being kicked from sopa not when he is finally reunited with hyojeong. not when he’s finally on a path to where he wants to go.

if they start something... he might just let them do as they please. fighting gets him in trouble. even if its in self defense he gets in trouble. he gets kicked out.

“how did you a homo like you make it into our school?” )

the hadn’t done anything else other than push him around and call him names. but hyunjoon knows from experience that it will only start going downhill from there. he knows that he should tell someone--his mom, a teacher, hyojeong even--but part of him still is afraid of what happened in middle school. a large part of him worries he'll once again be the one at blame and be kicked from sopa. that would be so bad on his already messy record. he doesn't want to risk it. as he hears the guys coming down the stairs, hyunjoon is quick to jumped from from the ledge so he can make an escape.

only, a mistake happens.

his phone drops from his hand and slides a bit from him, as he frantically moved to grab it a foot comes down between him and the phone and he's hesitant to look up but as suspected the leader of his current problem is smiling down at him. looking very much like a kind upperclassmen and not at all like a bully. but hyunjoon supposes that's the stereotype in living form.

“well well well, look who we have here. hello hyunjoon ah~” the guy speaks, and hyunjoon sees one of his friends picking up his phone. luxe is still playing on the screen as the phone is passed to the leader and hyunjoon almost wants to just abandon his phone.

“ah, we heard a rumor that you know luxe, somethin’ about one of them being your cousin? couldn’t be true right?” the guy speaks, turning the video volume up so luxe’s song is playing for them all to hear. “why would someone like these popular girls ever end up with gay cousin? i’d just disown you the moment i could.” laughter follows.

“give me my phone.” hyunjoon speaks, his voice overly calm--blank. expression also blank. he’s holding out a hand for his phone, and the guy just looks at it before they all laugh once more. in slow motion, he watches as the guy pockets his phone before grabbing hyunjoon by the collar of his shirt.

“you picked a fun staircase, hyunjoon ah~” the guy says quietly, looking up at the walls and ceiling before shoving the younger boy against the stairwell wall. “no cameras here~~”

hyunjoons blood runs cold as he also realizes what this means.

“i suppose theres only one way to fix someone like you.”

the next moment could be described in a number of ways. many words could be used to explain what the boys did, and how hyunjoon reacted. a fight might be one way--but is it really a fight when one side isn’t responding?

as hyunjoon doesn't respond. he lets them be, like he had said before that he would. the first move is a punch to the gut that would have floored him if not for the hand still holding him by the collar of his shirt. he's winded, and tears have formed in us eyes but his expression stays just as blank and cold as always. which of course seems to irritate the guys. the leader of this trio is smart as to not hit hyunjoon where a mark would be easily seen. his grip does change to hyunjoons shoulder and that action finally draw a breath of pain from the younger boy. his still slowly healing shoulder sensitive to rough treatment would be throbbing for the next few days as no mercy was given.

and they leave him--for what felt like an decade but merely was a few passing minutes--crumpled on the floor holding his aching shoulder. his phone is tossed carelessly next to him and he's dismayed to see a crack running along the screen protector down the middle.

frustrated tears slip down his cheeks that are aggressively whipped away and after a few moments to recover, he's pushing himself to stand. his body aches, nothing more than his shoulder, but he makes his way to his locker quickly and grabs his stuff to get out of school. he doesn't want to run the risk of see hyojeong right now--not sure if she was still here or not because they hadn't planned to meet up due to her being busy. he can't let her know about this--not since he knows how she reacted back in middle school.

no, he'll deal with this on his own.

#txt; solo #rkhyojeong #bc shes mentioned ofc she is #s; sopa school days #s; sour days #fighting tw #violence tw #homophobia tw #bullying tw

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alicedoessurveys · 6 years ago

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categories

PHONE What is the last game you played on your phone? toonblast

What kind of phone do you have? iPhone 7

Do you have it in a case? yup, blue marble case with matching pop socket cause im basic

Do you have a screen protector? nope

Who is the last person you messaged? my sister, telling her to go watch black mirror bandersnatch

What’s the last app you downloaded? I think it was trainline earlier this month when I had to start getting the train because the morning commute traffic was stressing me out too much Who is the first contact in your phone? Amadeus (Addison but his nickname is Amadeus) Do you give people personalized ringtones? no I cba with that What percentage is your phone battery? 14% Does your screen have any cracks? nope LOOKS What color is your hair? brown How tall are you? 5 ft 8 ish Are you happy with the way you look right now? no I got that post Christmas chub Describe your outfit: black sweatpants and an oversize black hoodie that says ‘smile’ in huge rainbow letters (in my comfy lazy clothes) What makeup products are you wearing, if any? none, lazy day What tattoos or piercings do you have? I have a tattoo behind my ear of 3 small music notes How would you describe your skin tone? pale af Are your nails painted? sparkly dark green What color eyes do you have? green What is your favorite physical feature about yourself? my eyes OUTSIDE Why were you last outside? because we had to take one of our foster kids to contact with his parents What’s the last outdoors concert you went to? fusion festival like 4 years ago Do you own a tent? yup, a small 4 person tent What’s the weather like today? shit Do you have distinctive seasons where you live? yeah pretty much. its cold in the winter and sometimes warm in the summer

What is your favorite kind of tree? dont really have a favourite tree Are you allergic to any plants? nope Did you play any outdoor sports in school? only the ones they made us do during pe class, like football, rounders and hockey When’s the last time you got rained on? today Do you go to parks frequently? walk the dogs couple of times a week FACEBOOK Do you have your full birth name on there? not my middle name Describe your profile picture: me in the woods looking up at a tree What’s the last notification you got? an invite to a theatre event Do you ever upload videos? yeah sometimes, of funny things that happen (normally mom dancing) How many friends do you have? 341 Who is the last person you added? someone from theatre Do you use Messenger a lot? yeah if someone messages me on there or if I need to message someone I dont have number of What is the last thing you posted/shared? that black mirror is incredible According to your Facebook memories, what did you post last year? idk something to do with christmas probably What groups are you in? theatre membership group and various cast groups of shows ive been involved in FOOD What’s the last thing you ate? chocolate and vanilla cheesecake How about drank? pepsi Do you have plans for dinner tonight? we had chicken and jacket potato and cheese Do you have any food allergies? milk, but I still drink it because I cant be tamed :’) Are you on a diet? no but I need to be What’s the last fast food place you went to? does Starbucks count? What foreign cuisines do you enjoy? italian What is your least favorite fruit? all of them expect apple and banana How many meals have you had today, so far? breakfast lunch and dinner

#survey #tag #long

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spacenerrrd · 7 years ago

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Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover: Chapter 4

Sander Sides

Word count: 1519

Characters: Patton/Creativity, Virgil/Anxiety, Patton/Morality, Logan/Logic

Warnings: Negative thinking, kinda the start to a panic attack. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: Logan runs a library in a small town, allowing him to share his love of books without feeling left out. His business partner and friend Roman helps by running the bright Disney themed cafe that attracts more people to stay for longer. The two clashing but somehow perfect match of a friendship went their days peaceful in their small community until one day a new pair of brother; Patton and Virgil, moved into town and showed the owners a new way of life.

Chapter four: A nice encounter

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

~~~

Scrape.

Roman was cleaning the area of the cafe after the library had closed. Humming one of his favourite songs when he’s working in the cafe, Gaston, he dusted and broomed after pushing the tables and chairs to the side. He insisted that he would pack up after Logan’s emotional afternoon, not letting him know of his own. Lights flickering off to hide the cakes and lettering of his little part to the library, the rest of it was soon turned off as he walked out. Gloves on to keep his fingers from freezing, he made his way down the road. Like Logan, he was lucky to be able to be walking distance from the library. Starting to break into a light jog (which was awkward considering his prince outfit wasn’t fit for running), his boots trotted heavily along the apartment before turning into the cul-de-sac. Nose starting to go pink from the cold, he made quick work of the keys and rushing inside. Taking a sigh. He turned the lights on and the heater to full blast. As much as he loved to play the prince persona as if he was actually one, he went straight to his room to take off the boots, suit and makeup that started to weigh him down. Getting changed into his Disney pyjamas, he played some soft rhythms through his phone to calm his already exhausted brain from over working anymore. Only having left overs to eat, the aroma of pasta goodness filled the house as he waited for the microwave to stop. He could finally let his expression be true to itself in the safety of his own home. He didn’t smile, or look that joyful at all. Bags under his eyes and poorly taken care of skin that the makeup his so well, his posture slumped more than his usual ‘royalty’ pose.

Beep beep beep.

Pulling the container from the microwave and sitting in the corner of the couch, he started to eat in a silence as he tried to pick a movie from his completely adult section of movies….a variation of Disney, Dreamworks and other cartoon movies.. His expression almost seeming emotionless as he finally settled on Winnie The Pooh. Finally a gentle small smile was on his face as he hummed the tune. When he saw Tigger on the screen his smile grew as it reminded him of Virgil and the kids. The story telling and sketching Virgil did for them. He cringed a little as he remembered how emotional he got and his cheeks heated up from the memory of the hug. He honestly didn’t expect it from Virgil. Someone who seemed to hate him initiated the hug and stayed with him until Roman basically demanded for him to leave so he could go home. Even then Virgil seemed hesitant but left the library with a Patton happily skipping behind. A soft smile was on his face as he relished the feeling before Roman suddenly snorted. Choking on his pasta, he was in a laughing fit. Gasping for air as he couldn’t get a breath between his laughter, he remembered that he slipped a note into Virgil’s pocket during their hug. Don’t be mistaken, he didn’t fake it. They were very much true tears, but Roman was just always prepared to leave a little something for a cute guy.

Virgil had immediately went to his room, grunting to let Patton know who went to start dinner. He sat at his desk and pulled out his sketchbook. Falling on to an open page, he stared….and that’s what he did for 45 minutes until Patton called him downstairs. Groaning in annoyance, he basically stomped down the stairs to the table. Patton had a small concerned smile on his face that calmed him down almost instantly. He sat down on the table and started eating his chicken. He never really said it, but he was grateful that Patton took the time to learn how to cook proper food for them after….

“So I saw you were helping Roman today.” Patton said, looking down at his food but Virgil could hear the smile on his face. Of course he would point it out.

“One of the kids wanted me to come over and play with them.”

“Awww that’s so just the sweetest gosh-darn thing! I overheard you guys making some wild stories, was it fun?”

Surprisingly a lot. “I guess.”

“You have to give me more than that kiddo! How was it like hanging out with Ro?”

Amazing. “It was alright.”

“Juuuuussssttt alright?”

Virgil looked up to see Patton looking at him, shimmering his shoulders and wiggling his eyebrows in a way that couldn’t stop him from laughing. “Shut up.”

“Watch your language kiddo.”

;“Yea yea. Thanks for dinner Pat, I’ve got work to...do…” Virgil was reaching into his pocket to put his headphones back in when he felt a foreign piece of paper in his pocket. He pulled it out to reveal a phone number. Who’s it was was evident by the small crowns places on the top of every 0, making the hooded boy blush. Patton raising a curious eyebrow jumped on the table to look at the paper from above. He gasped excitedly when he recognised the design. “AWWWW THIS IS SO ADORABLE!!”

Virgil trying to make an annoyed face at his brother just sulked away, message he wanted not really effective by the blush on his face. “It is not!”

“IS TOO YOU BIG SOFTY!!”

“LA LA LA I AM NOT LISTENING.” Virgil called back, blocking his ears until he made it back to his own bedroom. Sighing, he laid down on his bed, school work to be forgotten about as he stared at the number. It was calling out to him to just do it but the growing anxiousness was trying to hold him back.

“What if he didn’t think anything of that hug?”

“What if he just sees you as a loser?”

“Emo?”

“Failing student?”

“He graduated last year and he already owns a cafe. What are you going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re an angsty teen who is just good for no-”

“He really likes you kiddo.”

Virgil’s attention snapped up to Patton who was in his doorway. “Don’t you remember the rules about privacy Pat?”

“I do, but your door was cracked open and I heard your breaths being really heavy as I walked past. I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just worried.” Patton’s face told it. His smile was full of concern as his eyes tried to tell Virgil a million different heart warming things.

“It’s alright, I’m just….what if he doesn’t like me in anyway? What if he sees us as a tutor-student relationship? He is just so much better than me and I’m scared that he’ll think of me as nothing and-”

“Virgil, calm down.” Patton had swiftly sat next to the laying down Virgil, taking a hand between his own. “I see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. Believe me, he doesn’t see you as just a student. Besides, he only graduated last year himself, right?”

Virgil was afraid of his voice cracking, so he just nodded slowly.

“Exactly. He won’t see you like that, you just need to believe it.”

With the calming traces of Patton’s fingers across his knuckles, Virgil’s breaths started to even out again. His mind had slowed down and wasn’t screaming at him about everything bad that could happen. Almost like routine, once Virgil clung on to Patton’s hand a bit tighter to ask him not to leave Patton shuffled on to the bed more, lifting his younger brothers head into his lap. Sighing contently as his hair was being played with, his eyes looked up to the blue shining orbs of his brothers. His protector. “I’ll stay here with you, but I’ll promise not to look unless you show me.”

Smiling gratefully up at Patton, he grabbed his phone from his patched hoodie and opened up contacts to add the new number in. After a few shaky breaths he got the courage to open messages and send a text that took him 10 minutes of rewriting and convincing from Patton that it was fine.

anxiousemo: hey disney nerd

Virgil stared at his phone for 5 minutes. Panic was starting to set in again as the seconds tick by. Patton continued to play with his hair lightly, reassuring him that he was just busy. Virgil’s thoughts were getting loud again, betraying himself and taking his breath away. He wasn’t going to be able to stay rooted for very long. He was just pathetic and-

Ding.

They both froze as they looked at the screen

👑RoRo👑: hello dark and stormy night

Patton shrieked in joy, making Virgil jump and laugh with a smile. “Calm down calm down, he….I’ve got this.”

Patton nodded but was still jumping up and down in excitement. “I’m just so happy for my little brother.”

“Alright, thanks Pat. Now stop jumping otherwise you’re going to make the bed hit the….wall.”

Scrape.

~~~

Yoooo, I’m kinda really happy with this so I hope you guys enjoy this. If you wanna know about future chapters let me know and I’ll add you to the tag list ^-^

Next chapter

Tag list below:

@deathbyvenusftw @moonlightinwater @princeanxious @roman-is-a-gay @coffeekeyboardsss @ocotopushugs @thepoolofthedead @sanders-sides-things @angered-turtle @gayrobotalien @rebaobsessions @a-ghosts @catsandrandomness @fricksonsticks @v-blue-writer @hanramz-the-fander @your-username-is-unavailable @emphoenixcat @daughterofsomnus @anaveragegayfan @louisthewarlock @saro5100 @6tick6tock6 @nienna14 @fandomsofrandom @notalwaysthevillian @thestoryoferissur @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes @virgil-crofters @thatgaydemigodnerd @ijustreallylovesanderssides @221b-quote @bubblycricket

#ayyyeee #look i've done another chapter #sander sides #logan #logic #patton #morality #virgil #anxiety #roman #creativity #logicality #prinxiety #thomas sanders #sanders #sander sides fanfic #Don't Judge a Book by its Cover #djabbic

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kennyamongus · 4 years ago

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Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) Review!

Ishiro Honda returns to direct Mothra in her sophomore outing, this time pairing her with the one and only Godzilla as they share the screen for the first time in their respective histories. When one thinks of the relationship between the two characters, it isn't prototypically adversarial. But much like when comic book super heroes meet in team-up stories, it usually begins contentious, and they soon work it out and band together to ward off the true threat. I suspect we can expect the dynamic of these titans to more resemble that as their relationship evolves through the various continuities in future films, but for this film, they clash, and man, is it awesome.

Echoing the opening of Mothra's self-titled first film, Mothra vs. Godzilla begins with a typhoon causing incredible destruction, this time to Japan's coastline. It's here where I start to see a pattern emerging from the creative exploration of the other through the lens of Japan in this time period. Typhoons are one of the perpetual threats of the country, and seeing it continually associated with these big monster movies makes a certain amount of sense. The disastrous storm washes ashore a gigantic, technicolor egg, which sets the story in motion.

With a title like Mothra vs. Godzilla, we know that the showdown between these strange beasts is what's drawing the audience, so one might expect the focal human characters to take a back seat to the main attraction to at least some degree. Compared to the previous film though, the characters here take an even more ancillary role, though not to say to its detriment, or to say less of the performances. It was a sincere joy to see the return of The Peanuts, Emi and Yumi Ito, to their roles as Mothra's miniature telepathic communicators (presently billed as the Shobijin of Mothra's human-desolated home, the now retconned Infant Island), and in a true return to form, they are just as charming as ever. When they sing Mothra's prayer song in unison, I found myself raising my arms in victory at the sheer excitement of Mothra being called to action through harmonious delight. The Ito sisters are simply fantastic, and I can't write enough about my appreciation of them.

Rounding out the cast are journalists Ichiro Sakai (Akira Takarada), and Junko Nakanishi (Yuriko Hoshi), whose brief, heartfelt speeches to the natives of Infant Island on behalf of the humans endangered by Godzilla's fury resonated convincingly. The villainous duo of Yoshifumi Tajima's Kumayama and Yu Fujiki's Jiro Nakamura successfully play toward another apparently recurring theme of these films as over-zealous, enterprising capitalists who trip over each other in their relentless efforts to appease their single-minded, boundless greed.

Godzilla's attack on Japan showed marked imrpovement in effects quality over the last movie, and the design of his suit here, for me, defines his exemplary look in the Showa era. Mothra dazzles again in bright orange hues, and displays improved maneuverability as the creative team continues to give her more varied actions to perform.

The eponymous battle of these gargantuas is ultimately the star of this show, and the entire fight is wholly enthralling. It's here we get to see Mothra armed with a new power for this movie, and apparently her deadliest one yet (at least according to the Shobijin) - her yellow powder attack. Curiously, while visually exciting, this doesn't seem to do much to Godzilla as he's up again only seconds later, and proceeds to make short work thereafter of our mighty winged protector in her weakened state. It is, however, still nice to see the incremental building of her abilities as we progress through the films.

And with our first on-screen death of Mothra, she is thus born again through her two children who crack out of the bright blue giant egg, and splash on to the scene in their caterpillar forms, ready for the fight that awaits them. After tangling in close-quarters with the bipedal nightmare, the two eventually coordinate their previously established silk attacks, claim victory over the beast in his drowned entrapment, and head back to Infant Island with the miraculously quick-footed Shobijin in toe. (Did the Shobijin really hold on to the backs of Mothra's children the entire way as they swam all the way across the Pacific!?) All's well that ends well as the sun sets on a grateful Japan. Until next time, anyway.

Mothra vs. Godzilla is a movie that lives up to the premiere marquee slobber-knocker it promises. It touches on the ideas and themes its predecessors laid the groundwork for, and grows upon them with blockbuster bravado in its grandiose execution. Seeing these two towering giants of pop culture meet for the first time is a singularly special experience not to be missed by fans of either character.

#Writing

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linzinator · 7 years ago

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When a Girl Walks Down The Street

Back in June I posted this and @notsomolly said I should write a story about it. Four months later I decided to actually do it and now, a month after that, it’s done!

It combines two things I’m passionate about: street harassment and the Harry Potter universe. That being said, please be warned that there’s a lot of discussion about street and sexual harassment in this story. Also I’m not trying to step on your toes, JKR, so please don’t sue me. And FYI it’s like 4500 words.

She’s walking down the street, late for class as usual. Headphones in, sunglasses on, as usual. Her music is loud enough to make the sounds of cars and people blend into the background (but not too loud that she couldn’t hear someone approaching!). The day appears to be off to a good start. It’s sunny and warm enough that she could leave her jacket in her bag but not so hot that she’s sweaty by the time she arrives to her lecture. There’s an essay tucked into her bag that she knows is worth an A, and she’s wearing her favorite jumpsuit.

An old man tells her good morning and she replies in kind.

Then there’s a slightly younger man who drags his eyes up and down her figure and just as she’s passing, just loud enough to be heard over her music, he goes “Mmmmm,” as if perusing the selection at a bakery counter or considering the meal set before him at a five-star restaurant. The noise sticks to her body and slides down like slime, leaving a filmy residue behind. She wants to turn around and tell him off, that she’s not a piece of meat, or maybe at least give him a mean look, or something…but who knows what he’ll do and she’s already late and at least he didn’t touch her. She chokes down the words she hasn’t said- fuck you and fuck off and leave me alone! - and continues on.

She gets to her lecture and takes her seat and rubs her hands up and down her arms, like maybe that lingering slime can be washed off.

There’s another day. She’s running late as usual but this time it’s hotter than Satan’s asshole and the humidity is making the air thick and she’s hauling the jugs of orange juice she agreed to bring for the literary magazine’s start of year brunch. There’s sweat already pooling under her boobs and she’s wondering why she bothered to put on makeup as most of her foundation has coalesced in the area where her chin turns into her neck.

Thankfully she’s turned onto a road surrounded by tall buildings, so she has a moment of shady respite. She’s moved past the store fronts so the only people around are also hustling to get somewhere and don’t have time for niceties or catcalls. She’s fine with that. All she wants is to get to the English department building so she can set down these heavy ass jugs. It’s quiet for a few moments—not as many cars or people—so it’s just her and her music until

HONK HOOOOOONK! She braces, expecting the next sound to be a loud crash of metal on metal or screeching brakes or screams, but it doesn’t come. Her heart is hammering in her chest and it feels like she’s just run a marathon. She looks behind her to inspect the damage and sees nothing but a truck driver peering out his passenger side window, waving with a grin. He turns to keep driving but she hopes he caught her scowl first. She tightens her grip around one jug and wonders if she’s strong enough to hurl it at the truck’s window. Probably not. She briefly hopes he gets into a fender bender or has a flat tire or something. She takes a few slow, shaky breaths in through the nose and out through her mouth to try to slow her heart rate, then hauls up the bottles of juice for a better grip and heads on.

She gets to the brunch and dumps the jugs on the table. As she deposits her personal effects in the designated corner she can’t help but clench her fists and flare her nostrils. In her peripheral vision she thinks she sees the old, leather-bound books quiver on the floor to ceiling shelves, but when she looks up, nothing has changed. She stares, squinting for a moment, until her friend Ashley asks, “You good?”, and she tells her all about the asshole trucker who scared the shit out of her.

“What the fuck?!” is the reply.

“I know, right?!” she says. And they grab plates and start filling them with food and move along down the line but her heart hasn’t fully slowed and that honk is still ringing in her ears. She’s deflated and exhausted, as if the truck had run her over.

Her cell phone screen has shattered, and she wonders why she spent money on this screen protector if it can’t do its one job. She can make out the time- 11:15- through the cracks spreading across the screen like a spider web. The repair shop is dark inside and when she pulls at the doors they don’t budge. “Of course,” she thinks. She needs her phone fixed and the shop that apparently opens at 10 is closed. She decides to walk into the mall across the road to pass the time. There’s a car pulled over in a loading zone and there’s a man in it yelling something at a young woman up ahead. She feels her lip curl and speeds past the area.

This cell phone repair is going to take up all of her spending money until she’s paid again, and soon she tires of looking at clothes she can’t buy. She strolls back around the block to see if the store is open and expels a frustrated sigh when she sees that the shop lights are still off. She tries the door just to check and finds it is still locked, as she expected. She tries to call the number on the door and reaches a voicemail. She doesn’t bother to leave a message- if the store can’t be bothered to open during business hours, it would be silly to expect them to check their voicemail. She turns to go home, and her path leads her by the loading zone again, where the old man is still sitting in his car, though it’s been much more than the 10 minutes one is allowed to stay. As she passes by he begins his chorus, entreating her to come closer with all manner of endearments—baby and honey and sweetie. She scoffs and waves her hand in a dismissive gesture, as if he were a fly buzzing in her face. He doesn’t appreciate it—he’s shouting, “Aw come on! Get out of here with that.” And perhaps some other things but she’s turned up her music. She feels brief twinge of satisfaction but he’s still there shouting whatever. There aren’t any traffic cops around (how is it that they were always right next to her car when she’s overstayed a meter by a minute but not when they were actually needed?). “Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and continues on.

She doesn’t know it, but as she walks off the man’s radio, which was playing smooth jazz, scrolled rapidly through stations. His lights flashed and wipers sprung to life and as quickly as it all started, it stopped.

She walks the rest of the way home and finds her steps getting slower and slower. She had plans and a to-do list but instead she collapses on her fluffiest chair for a snooze.

She’s at home, reveling in a day with no responsibilities. She’s in her unicorn onesie wrapped in her favorite blanket surrounded by snacks, enjoying a Netflix binge. She’s watching The Office for the 10th time because she doesn’t have the energy to take in something new. She’s been so tired lately, the sort of tired that doesn’t go away no matter how much sleep she gets. She usually doesn’t get sick so she just attributes it to stress.

As the employees of Dunder Mifflin scramble during Dwight’s impromptu fire drill, her roommate Kaitlyn comes in with her boyfriend Kyle. She greets them briefly before returning her attention to the show. Kaitlyn drops her things and moves quickly through the common area to her room, while Kyle sits at the kitchen table, loudly dropping his things and making himself at home. She rolls her eyes.

Kaitlyn returns from her bedroom and sets about making food before asking, “Do you want to eat with us? I’m making tacos.”

“You know I never turn down tacos,” she answers.

Soon after the food is done so she turns off the tv and extracts herself from the couch, shuffling to take a seat at the table. “Muchas gracias,” she states as she begins to assemble her meal.

They fall into easy, casual conversation between mouthfuls.

“Ugh, the rest of the TAs in my cohort for this year are such heinous dicks. They think they have to explain every concept to me because I’m the only girl in the group,” Kaitlyn says, disgusted. She’s starting her doctorate in philosophy, with a concentration on morality. A minute or two of her talking about a topic can have you questioning everything, she’s so obnoxiously brilliant.

She groans sympathetically but before she can speak Kyle chimes in, “Aw babe, come on, you can’t let them get to you so much.”

She side-eyes him before dragging her gaze back to Kaitlyn and responding as if Kyle hadn’t spoken. “Ugh. That is the worst. I can’t imagine being the only girl. The guys in my group drive me nuts and there are only a few of them. If I get told to smile one more time I’m going to punch someone, seriously.”

Kaitlyn rolls her eyes. “They’d deserve it.”

“Oh come on, for telling you to smile? It’s a compliment!” Kyle argues.

She slides her unimpressed gaze to him once more and through a mouthful of taco says, “No it’s telling me what to do with my face.”

“They think you’re pretty and want to see you smile,” Kyle contends, bearing a grin himself.

Her face remains blank, the only movement from her chewing. “Then they should tell a joke. And anyways, I don’t think it’s true that they actually want to see me smile. Because they say it when I’m in the middle of reading through a paper or lugging a stack of books or walking down a hallway. Like do you just walk around doing things with a huge smile on your face? I’m not a fucking Disney princess.”

Kyle’s not satisfied. “Now you know you wouldn’t be so pissy about it if it was coming from someone you thought was hot. It’s just because those English TAs are all pale and nerdy and weird.”

She expels a heavy sigh and closes her eyes for a moment before responding. “I generally don’t find it attractive when people tell me what to do with my face. So I think I’d be pissy either way.” She slides her chair back from the table. “I’m gonna take a nap. Thanks for the tacos, Kait. I’ll clean the dishes later if you want to leave them.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, I know you’re not feeling well,” Kaitlyn replies.

“Ok. Well I’ll see you later then.” She pauses. “Kyle.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again when she fixes him with a tired glare. He thinks he sees a black shadow, like a puff of smoke, trailing behind her, but when he blinks it’s gone. He shakes his head. No more all-nighters.

She collapses on her bed and dreams about Jim Halpert telling her to smile.

She wakes up the next morning, feeling as though she hasn’t slept at all. She extracts herself from bed and manages to trudge to the shower before putting on the first clean garments she found on the floor. She probably should just keep resting but has a really important seminar to attend in preparation for her thesis so she’s going to make her way to school.

On days like this she wishes she had a car, but alas, she has to make her usual trek through the city. She’s dragging her feet in a zombie-like shuffle. Her face bears a scowl and dark circles. Normally she does everything she can to be inconspicuous in hopes of being left alone—sunglasses and headphones and looking down—but today she’s left her headphones at home and squints in the glare of the midmorning sun. She looks at each person she passes as if daring them to say something. Her internal monologue is a chorus of “I wish a motherfucker would.” She is poised for action, a bullet in the barrel of a cocked gun.

No one talks to her on her way to school. She hopes they were scared off by the force of her glare, but really it was the air around her—charged and crackling, humming like a bug zapper, ready to shock anyone who comes too close.

After the seminar, she heads to the library to pick up some additional reference materials. She’s way behind compared to her classmates—these past few days of feeling run down led to a halt in productivity. She’s grabbed a few books from which to make notes and is making her way to a table in the study area when she spots Ashley. She makes a beeline to her corner and drops her books on the table with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ashley replies, looking up from her book briefly. She turns back to her reading and the two women sit together in silence until the repetitive jiggling of Ashley’s leg becomes too much to ignore.

“Are you alright?” she blurts.

“What? Why?” Ashley replies, brows furrowed.

“Your leg is going crazy.”

“Oh, you know, thesis stuff.”

She tilts her head slightly, her gaze not wavering from Ashley, whose eyes are downcast. “Uh huh.”

“Ok so…you know Dr. Hall?” Ashley whispers.

“Yeah,” she replies, looking around, as if the man himself might wander into their corner.

“I’m just—I’m having some trouble with him.”

“Like in class? I’ve heard he’s a hardass but—”

“No, like…personally?”

Her brow furrows and her nostrils flare. “What happened?”

Ashley takes a deep breath and looks around as if the words she’s looking for may be hanging in the air before her. “Well you know I’ve been TA-ing for one of his classes…and he’s just…weird.”

She leans forward to encourage Ashley to continue.

“Like he’s always talking about how I look and giving me those looks—you know, like the up and down ones—and talking about how we should have lunch. At first I said yes because people go to lunch with professors sometimes, and I thought maybe he did it for all his TAs but Patrick said he didn’t ask him to lunch, and the way he keeps talking about it is so strange. I keep putting it off but he’s been so persistent and now he’s saying things like ‘Oh I hope your boyfriend won’t be mad when we go to lunch’ which like, why would he be mad if it’s just a professional lunch, right? Unless it isn’t…”

“Ugh, Ashley I’m sorry that’s so inappropriate.”

“I know and he keeps sending me emails that seem to have less and less to do with work and more just trying to have conversations with me…I stopped responding so hopefully he’ll stop.”

“God, Ash. Man that is the worst. Have you told anyone?”

“No, I mean, I did talk to Nick about it but he said Hall wasn’t doing anything illegal so there isn’t anything I could do. I thought about telling Keller since he’s the department head but he’s a guy so he probably won’t get it either…and I mean, a TA versus a tenured professor? Come on.” Ashley throws her hands up, defeated.

“Right…that’s a tough spot. I mean obviously what he’s doing is wrong and Nick is an idiot—no offense. Maybe you could—I don’t know…talk to Maxwell? She’s a woman, she’s pretty young, so she probably would know what to do. You don’t have to report it, maybe just get advice?”

“Yeah, I guess. All the other professors seem to like him so much that it seems pointless. If it’s him against me he’ll always win.” Ashley places her elbows on the table and her head in her hands.

She reaches across the table and places her hand on Ashley’s arm. “I’m so sorry. Hopefully the semester will go by fast and then you can get assigned to somebody else’s classes.”

Ashley nods without lifting her head. After a moment she picks up her book and resumes reading, signaling the end to the conversation.

She picks up her book, too, but glances up at Ashley every couple of minutes. She hopes she’s okay but knows that uneasiness she’s feeling hasn’t gone away, even if her leg is still.

She stayed at the library later than she anticipated, but she’d hit her stride and didn’t want to stop working. It’s dark now and she doesn’t have cash for the bus or enough in her account for an Uber so she’s walking. It’s not a long walk so she’s just trying to move quickly and get home as soon as possible. She’s nervous and scared, like girls are supposed to be. She’s looking down, mostly, but every few seconds her eyes shift upward or to the side. Only one earbud is in and at the slightest noise she turns to look behind her. Her hands are in her pockets, her right hand with a firm grip on her keys—she wants to be able to get into her building quickly, and also be ready to stab somebody if she has to.

Getting home is at the forefront of her mind as she hustles down the dark streets, but she can’t help but think about Ashley and Hall. She’s angry for her friend and wishes she could so something to protect her, but she can’t. That feeling of powerlessness—that’s what gets at her the most.

She’s moving down the main street, full of stores and restaurants, when she sees a group of guys ahead. There are several of them—maybe 7—a bit older, perhaps, and definitely bigger than her. She averts her eyes, lest a bit of accidental eye contact make one of them think she’s interested. She lengthens her strides, hoping to propel herself forward even more quickly. Her brain is simultaneously a chorus of “Please leave me alone please leave me alone please leave me alone,” and a scrolling list of contingency plans (“If he grabs my bag I’ll just drop it and run and if he grabs my wrist roll out toward the thumb and…”).

She’s upon them now and mumbles, “Excuse me,” hoping they’ll just part and let her through.

They start to move and one says, “Hey,” drawing out the vowel as he runs his eyes up and down her body and licks his lips. “How you doin’?” Like he’s fucking Joey Tribbiani.

She holds back the scowl that threatens to form on her face and responds with a terse nod. She tries to keep going but another of the group speaks out. “Hey! My friend was talking to you.” Like her silence is offensive.

“Hi,” she responds timidly, still trying to move forward. Has she not moved, or are they following her? She’s not sure. An alarm is going off in her brain, and she wonders if she can outrun any of these guys.

She suddenly feels a twinge of pain in her left ear as the ear bud is yanked out. The same guy who was offended by her is closer now. “He asked you a question.”

Now the scowl appears in full force. She just wants to get home, to heat up her leftovers and relax after hours of research. But no. This fucking guy needs her to respond to his friend. Once she’s sure her meanest look is burned into this asshole’s retinas, she turns to go.

The asshole wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back toward him. She whips around, her hair flying up into a halo around her head. Her eyes are wide, brows pulled together, and nostrils flared, like a bull about to charge. She feels the slime sliding down her skin and hears the honking of the semi-truck and “Smile” and Ashley’s bouncing leg. And then nothing.

She’s laying down, and suddenly being jostled. She hopes that was all a bad dream and Kait is waking her because she’s late for class but it’s more likely that the pack of guys have drugged her or knocked her out and now she’s on the floor in some empty warehouse and they’re going to have their way with her. There’s a high-pitched ringing in her ears and it’s so loud. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter, not ready to face her current circumstances.

She’s jostled again. “Ma’am, can you hear me?!”

She opens her eyes abruptly and is greeted by an array of flashing lights. She has to blink a few more times to adjust. She manages to croak out a quiet “Yes.”

As her eyes adjust further, she can see that the man before her is an EMT. She’s lying on the street, but she’s not sure where. Based on the amount of lights, she estimates there are several police cars and ambulances around. She tries to sit up to take in more, but is stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“I need to stabilize your neck, ma’am.” He produces a cervical collar which he places carefully around her neck.

“Where am I?” she asks quietly.

“Athens Boulevard, ma’am.”

So she hadn’t gone far. That’s the street she was walking down when she ran into the guys, and then—“Wait, what happened?”

“There was an explosion. Please look at me so I can check your pupils.”

Once he’s satisfied that she’s fully conscious and her pupils are equal and reactive, he and his colleague helped her onto a stretcher. From her higher vantage point, she can see much more of the scene. She was thrown into the middle of the street, right on the yellow line. The sidewalks are covered in shattered glass from the storefront windows, reflecting the lights from the emergency vehicles. She sees some other people strewn about being attended to by paramedics. She can’t make out who they are and wonders if any of the guys that were bothering her were hurt. She glances over the spot on the sidewalk where she last remembers standing and sees a group of police and guys in suits talking and taking pictures. She figures it was some sort of terrorist attack.

As she’s loaded into the ambulance, she feels exhaustion wash over her like a wave and allows herself to drift off to sleep again.

She wakes up in the hospital. She’s been changed into a gown and is attached to an IV and all sorts of monitoring equipment. She sits up slightly, the miniscule movement causing her to wince in pain. She takes in her surroundings, trying to see if any of her belongings made it to the hospital with her intact. She doesn’t see any of her things, but her eyes land on the remote sitting on the bedside table. She grabs it and turns on the tv, hoping to find a news channel with information on the attack.

After a flipping through a couple of channels, she finds the local news. The blonde anchor has on her best serious face as she warns, “Please note that the following video is graphic and could be upsetting to some viewers.”

The screen cuts to black and white footage of the Athens Boulevard, shot from a high angle, presumably from a surveillance camera. She sees some random people passing by, and then there it is—her and the men. The fear and fury come rushing back to her as she watches herself be harassed. She sees the last thing she remembers—when the asshole put his hands on her—and then something happens. There’s a huge puff of thick black smoke that looks like nothing she’s ever seen from a fire. She hasn’t seen a bomb in real life but none of the action movies she’s seen have looked like this. The smoke spins like a miniature tornado, throwing the group of men off their feet. It then takes off, moving like an erratic serpent as it destroys the windows of the stores, before changing direction. It’s flying about, going every which way, almost like a deflating balloon that’s been let go. The smoke moves toward the camera and the video cuts off.

She’s not sure what she just watched. She flips through channels, hoping to find the video again, before settling on national channel that is playing to video on loop as various experts espouse their early theories.

She watches it four, maybe five more times. She finds herself leaning closer each time, watching the spot where she stood. Each time she watches it becomes clearer—the black smoke starts with her.

She falls back into the pillows, her mind a mess of questions. Did it throw her immediately? Did it come out of her? Did she turn into the big black smoke monster from Lost? She looks around the room, as if the answer may be apparent in the signs on the walls or her vital signs displayed on the screen beside her. She looks down at her hands, clenching and unclenching her fists. What the fuck?

She wonders what is wrong with her, and what happened to the group of men. She assumes they’re hurt but she refuses to consider the possibility of something worse. She’s ashamed of it, but part of her—a very small part—is happy they were hurt. The thought of what could have happened had she not gone all smoke snake on them makes her stomach turn. Her face contorts into a snarl as she clenches her jaw and wrinkles her nose. The number on the monitor that represents her heart rate begins to climb. She feels heat growing from her chest and spreading outward as she thinks, “They should have just left me alone.”

The heat reaches her extremities and her body feels charged, like the AED paddles sitting across the room, when suddenly the door swings open.

“You’re awake!” the nurse greets. She’s wearing bright pink scrubs and a warm smile. “I’m Wendy, and I’m your nurse for the next 6 hours or so. How are you feeling?”

The heat within her has dissipated and suddenly she’s overcome with exhaustion. She’s like one of those inflatable lawn decorations when the plug has been pulled. “Just tired, mostly. A little sore, I guess.”

“Okay. Dinner will be here in a little while, but in the mean time I want you to get some rest. The doctors want to keep you here overnight to monitor you, but you should be able to go home tomorrow. So far things are looking good. Nothing’s broken, and your head CT was clear. You made out pretty well, lady. You’re lucky.”

She quirks the corners of her mouth in a hollow approximation of a smile. “Oh, I know, Wendy.”

(And that’s it! I’d planned on ending it there but a friend said she’d be interested in more, so maybe to be continued...?)

#writing #mine #short story #street harassment #obscurus

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un-enfant-immature · 5 years ago

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Samsung Galaxy Fold take two

The Galaxy Fold comes in a nice box. It’s a thing I rarely, if ever, mention in product write-ups, because, if done right, shipping containers are generally the least interesting thing about a product. But Samsung, to its credit, has taken great care. That’s been one of the constants across this admittedly bungled product launch: presentation.

The first time I saw the device, it was well lit, in an elaborate display behind several layers of glass on the floor of Mobile World Congress. Samsung wasn’t letting anyone go past a literal velvet rope a few feet from the device.

When we finally got our hands on the Fold, Samsung had laid out several large boxes, which, when opened, had the effect of raising the device up, toward the viewer. It was a fun thing for a room full of journalists who had largely been engaging with the product through guarded curiosity, wondering aloud whether it would ever actually see the light of day.

That skepticism was warranted, as it turned out. The Fold came back broken from several reviewers. After placing the blame at the feet of users, Samsung eventually changed tack, pushed back the April release date indefinitely and tried to get to the bottom of what was going on with the product.

This week, the Fold returns to North American store shelves — or, rather, it finally debuts, about five months after initially planned. And once again, Samsung’s delivering the device in a nice box. The purpose of this one, however, is as much about setting expectations as it is providing a splashy debut.

youtube

Really, it’s like the analog version of the “Caring for Your Fold” video the company debuted on YouTube last week. It was as flashy and well-produced as we’d expect from Samsung, right down to the dramatic piano music while instructing the viewer to “Just use a light touch.” That note arrived with its own (somewhat redundant) footnote: “Do not apply excessive pressure to it.”

Similarly, the Fold box comes with its fair share of paperwork. The first bit is an overview of Galaxy Fold “Premier Service,” the white-glove offering the company announced a while back. That was, it explained, the reason it canceled initial AT&T pre-orders. The 24/7 service comes free with the purchase of the $2,000 phone, offering users phone support, starting with setup. The company’s got a call center in North Carolina fielding the calls during U.S. business hours, and routes them abroad after that.

Samsung Galaxy Fold review: future shock

There are other elements to it, as well, including a $149 screen warranty. All of these pieces add up to a company confident enough to bring the product back to market, but not quite ready to ensure that the Fold’s screens might not crack under pressure for some. In fact, there’s a five-point warranty adhered to the screen that warns against:

Excessive pressure (It’s the terror of knowing what the world is about / Watching some good friends screaming / “Let me out!”)

Placing objects like keys on the screen before folding

Exposing the Fold to water or dust

Adding your own screen protector to the existing screen protector

Keeping the device next to easily deactivated objects like credit cards (or, in my experience, hotel key cards) and *gulp* implanted medical devices

The product does, thankfully, ship with a case, which is a thin, two-piece snap-on covering. It won’t protect the front display from scratches, but it may help the product avoid dings if dropped. When closed, at least. I’m very much looking forward to someone purchasing the device for extensive drop testing while open.

Samsung does get some bonus points for also throwing in a pair of its very good Galaxy Buds Bluetooth earbuds for free. A nice gesture, to be sure.

As those who read the site with some regularity likely already know, we’ve actually spent a significant amount of time with the device. I was carrying the original version of the Fold around during our Robotics event back in April. Fitting, I suppose, that I’ll be sporting it next week at Disrupt. I do once again plan to hold onto the phone for a bit to get a better idea of day to day life with the foldable (though I likely won’t be doing daily dispatches this time).

Full disclosure: Samsung just gave us the revised version of the product yesterday afternoon. Hardly enough time to give you anything conclusive, so I’m not going to pretend to do so here. I will say that aesthetically, very little has changed. For better and worse. The one immediate thing that leaps out is the lack of a visible screen protector.

If you’ll recall, that was a major source of the problems last time out. The edges of the built-in screen protector were visible and, yes, it looked an awful lot like the removable screen protectors other Galaxy products ship with. Did I peel it off? No. Was I tempted? You better believe it.

This time out, the laminate has been extended to under the outer edges to avoid that temptation altogether. The other big fixes include plugging the gaps in the hinges that previously allowed debris to fall behind the screen, damaging it when pressure is applied. There’s also a new, unseen layer of metal under the display designed to reinforce the screen. This gives the device a slightly more rigid feel.

Otherwise, the hardware is largely unchanged, including the small 4.6-inch window display up front and the large 7.3-inch foldable screen inside, which still has a visible seam when the light reflects it at an angle.

There’s a tacit understanding that the Fold is an imperfect device. The product builds upon a decade of experience creating Galaxy flagship smartphones, along with all of Samsung’s prior electronics knowledge, but the foldable category is still very much a kind of uncharted territory. Companies are going to fail plenty before they succeed here, and at very least, Samsung deserves some kudos for being among the first to try the thing, tumbling a bit and getting back up and trying again.

[gallery ids="1885397,1885396,1885395,1885394,1885393,1885392,1885391,1885385,1885384,1885383,1885382,1885381,1885379,1885378"]

There remains the important question, however, of whether consumers are okay with what feels a little like an extended beta test — albeit one that costs $2,000 to join. Thankfully, Samsung got some of those unfortunate bungles out of the way before bringing the product to market. Along with a reinforced display, however, Samsung does appear to be girding itself for the possibility that consumers will find creative and new ways to mangle the display — accidentally and otherwise.

Suffice it to say, I’ve got a lot more thoughts on the matter, many of which I’ll be formulating over the coming days and weeks. So, stay tuned for those. Meantime, if you’d like to leap before you look, the Fold can be yours this Friday, starting at $1,980 U.S.

#TechCrunch

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acradaunt · 6 years ago

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EON Playthrough - Week 4

As suggested by last week, ever since getting subclasses, the rotation pool has grown ever larger. Perhaps too large, slowing down levelling to where I'm well below what it expects. This resulted in me making the rather dubious decision to fight the 9th stratum boss at a meager level 50-53, when I imagine the recommended is about 58-60, as all three regional FOEs remained as red.

Still, my stubbornness made me take four attempts to kill the guy, trying different tactics of varying offense and defensive. In the end, Laura frontline Combat Medic-ing beat out actually trying to block his nasty moves with Protector or Zodiac. I don't think Protector was by any means a bad choice, it's just that when the assface panics four of the five party members, your options are to use Healing Touch or to just wipe.

My reward for that was to be greeted by another full-on boss within about twenty minutes. So my efforts to get better gear before doubling back and taking out those FOEs was punched right in the face. Barf. Honestly, I've spent the majority of EO-time this week running around and cleaning things up and getting those awkward tiles on the map in FOE territory, so forward progress has been fairly minimal.

Iris the Protector/Imperial: The main idea with her is that she can use free turns to use a Drive attack and use that Heat Guard make her even better as a meatshield. Also, she was literally in EOIV as an Imperial, so it's only fair. However, the fact is, I didn't even HAVE a Drive Blade until like minutes ago. It's definitely a good fit for her, but things just haven't worked out that way yet, partially because I'm a cheapass. Doubly poor for her, both 9th's boss and 10th's midboss suffer from extreme quickening, getting radically more difficult as the fight goes on. Protection just cannot keep up with bosses who suddenly start taking multiple turns per turn midway into the fight. The only viable option is to carefully whittle them down to about 40%, and then just blow the everliving crap outta them in 3-4 turns. Slow and steady just can't mitigate enough or do enough damage. It's annoying because quickening isn't really a thing often in EO; apart from both Nexus' 4th stratum boss and side-region boss both having it to lesser, more reasonable degrees, the only real instance I can think of is friggin' Star Devourer. Possibly Undead King did? He didn't unlive that long to really know what he could do. It's fine when they take a second action after a set amount of turns (5th boss did this), but when they start doing it every turn, with stronger results? Not really fair.

Klein the Hero/Imperial: Regiment Rave is without a doubt absolutely nuts in terms of damage, but thinking about it, it's somewhat fair. It's a turn-end move, AND its damage comes largely from the rest of the party piling on. If anything goings wrong with anyone, it does fairly blah damage. In those regards, it's basically a stronger but more easily stuffed Link. Like Iris, the Drive Blade hasn't come into play yet, and for him, not sure if it will. Regiment Rave might be all or nothing, but when it is, it's likely stronger than a subbed Drive could hope to be. Its upside and downside is being fire-based, and I'm guessing both 10th's midboss and boss are gonna be wholly immune to that. So he's probably taking a break for a while.

Juri the Survivalist/Harbinger: Apart from her usual job of running nighttime gathering jobs (so you can immediately re-harvest those points when midnight strikes), after taking a good hard look at the 9th's enemies, Juri was a perfect fit to counter nearly every last one of them. Adept at avoiding hitting particular (frontline) targets and the toughest two enemies being easily crippled by Leg Bind and Blind made her exemplary towards the end of the stratum. Not to mention nearly every quest as of late has been simply gather crap from resource points. If you have a Survivalist and dumped them when stratums 5/7/8 were awful to them, look at bringing them back for the 9th.

Kahna the Landsknecht/Harbinger: Yeah, she squarely cracked into the main rotation. Linking is great for quickly subduing random monsters, but she's been performing questionably during bosses and FOEs. Yet I still keep using her. Hmm.

Coral the Landsknecht/Protector: Honestly, hasn't seen too much use since subclasses arrived. Dunno why, as while Kahna is definitely better for randoms, when I've taken her to bosses, she always seems stuck using her subpar Shield Breaks to keep things open for Erika and Olga, barely having time to contribute herself. Coral's at an unfortunate position where she's not as strong as Erika/Olga, and not as versatile as Laura. Landy's Force skill is decent enough, but it sure lacks the oomph of perfectly restoring everyone or killing just everything on screen or completely stealing a foe's turn. It's the same 'slow and steady isn't good enough' problem Iris has.

Laura the Medic/Landsknecht: It seems like in pinch situations, she's going to basically be a frontline debuffer, while Leon runs the healing & buff duty. While she's not as good or as durable as Coral, the potency of Healing Touch is somewhat ridiculous, having torpedoed the two brand new bosses strategies utterly.

Adam the Medic/Zodiac: Unlike Laura's reckless nonsense, Adam does so-so damage in the back, and has multi-hit options. Better for random encounters and those with massive physical resistance, but kind of a waste of TP during FOEs and bosses. They both fill niches, so I'm actively using both. Never at the same time, though. Two Landsknechts work great together, but two Medics sure don't.

Leon the Sovereign/Ronin: As mentioned on Laura, Leon tends to do more HP healing by buffing than the Medic actually does. It's not enough though, as he can't do a thing about ailments or binds, outside of the tremendously unreliable Prevent Order, and even then, it's too late to actually remove the ailment. Or take a mortally wounded character from almost dead to full health. He's more keeping things between okay and good; any critical situation and he's absolutely useless. The idea of Ronin was for him to Air Blade or Arm Bind or at least have SOME kind of offensive move, but he rarely ever has time, and I've also been too much of a cheapass to buy another quality Katana, so he's usually not even using one. He also can't revive at all, which sucks, but I guess not as bad as in IV or V, where Nectars required ultra-rare materials, which are now handed out daily on the world map. By the way, I LOVE map-gathering points. It saves time and money, and actually lets you get useful materials and rare drops without spending weeks running old points and fighting harmless enemies. It just cuts out needless tedium, and you get them only after you're done with the area, so it's not really giving you free stuff until after the prime-time has past, so gathering runs still do have a time and place. Just a lot more dangerous a time and place.

Kagura the Ninja/Ronin: Giving her Ronin suddenly made her do alright damage. Actually, genuinely great damage. Her array of ailments makes her pretty ideal for randoms and getting conditional drops. She would be really good now, if, ironically, Erika hadn't gotten over her own crippling frailness and there wasn't a fight for the back-row slots, with Laura, Leon, and Klein all being row-hoppers. Still, conditionals mean better gear, so I think she's keeping a spot in the rotation.

Erika the Ronin/Gunner: Definitely the workhorse of the entire game so far, Erika's finally getting over her frailty issues and remains a ludicrous source of damage. Gunner subclass and its Double Action is kind of hilarious, as it lets Charging Thrust and Sheath Strike hit twice and get massive Stance refills. I imagine it cuts both ways though, with Helm Splitter/Haze Slash/Horizontal Slash taking 4 Stance points away, but I frankly rarely use them, usually sticking to Arm Strike and Volt Stab and the rare risky Stone Thrust.

Olga the Gunner/Ninja: The other, far more recent, immovable pillar of the party, Ninja hasn't been quite as beneficial as Erika's Gunner, but -2 TP to all moves and better evasion have done plenty for her endurance. I initially planned on Ninja for mass backrow binding, but after learning that creating clones disables your Force meter, I dunno if it's worth it. Double Action and especially Riot Shot are amazing, with the latter being a 'free turn' button, something I'm obviously going to be needing in the extremely near future. I think more than anything though, her being the only person who can use a gun has kept her locked firmly in place, along with getting awesome guns at the exact right time.

Tate the Arcanist/Harbinger: Sorely disappointed. I expected to see pretty big numbers from her shiny new ice Scythe, but, uh, no. After demanding a leg-bind or other evasion down to hit, it still only does barely 60x3 hits. Pretty pathetic. Combined with a form of healing I don't find reliable at all, Arcanists just plain aren't my style. I think she's sitting things out from here, and'll stop getting all that free after-quest XP.

Stella the Runemaster/Protector: Seems like she might be useful for the 10th stratum. The shield helps MASSIVELY with her previously awful survivability, and her TP pool is large enough for her to have some sustain during FOEs/bosses by now, moreso with judicious use of Force. Damage is still iffy, all considered, and the Charges both take a turn and seem to absolutely suck, unlike V's Warlock.

Terra the Highlander/Protector: Like Tate, has been sucking down all the free XP but hasn't done anything since forever ago. Now that she's got ways to handle single targets, she's probably pretty good again, just hasn't found a way in. I'm probably missing out.

Yai the Pugilist/Ninja: Repeat previous statement. Pugilist needs a lot of both Skill Points and TP to be useful, and I'm getting to the point where she's probably almost there. Perhaps like Erika, she's over her ridiculous frailness by now, but I just don't see any circumstances where she'll outperform Olga. Actually, y'know, obvious answer. Olga's stupidly slow. Sure, she binds great, but after I've already been trampled that first turn. As with Terra, it's less about overall usefulness and more about not seeing a great Cestus or Spear come along that's kept them on the benches and Olga off them.

#Etrian Odyssey #Etrian Odyssey Nexus #EON #EOX #EO #EO Nexus

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