#and jojo was like you’re absolutely right. let’s have you jerk off instead

[firstkanaphans]

Translation: Actually, in the original script, it was written that Fadel was just starting to waver in the face of Style’s chaos by falling asleep with a smile, but when I talked to Joong, he said, “Isn’t that too sweet, Phi?” So I went back to the original story and found that the character was aroused by physical desire first. We decided to demonstrate that in this brutal way 555

[memory-mortis]

The Work of an Enemy Stand

WC: 2.4K TW: none that I can think of right now. hmu if I should add a tw TAGS: sex pollen, inappropriate use of Stands

!HEAVILY NSFW! I’M SERIOUS! 18+ ONLY!

Finally. You sighed to yourself as warm water ran down your body. After days of constant travelling, washing all the sand and grime off your skin in a clean, cozy hotel felt like absolute bliss. No doubt Polnareff was also ecstatic about the toilet, considering his usual bathroom predicament. You would have to tease him about it later - but definitely not tonight.

Polnareff, Avdol, Joseph and Kakyoin all stayed in the rooms 3 floors down and you didn't feel like going all the way there just for shits and giggles. Joseph made quite a fuss about booking rooms near each other, but it was to be expected that almost all the rooms would be already taken during vacation season. This meant that you and Jotaro were next to each other. Not only that, your rooms were conjoined by a single door.

Avdol said that it would be for the best, that if a Stand user were to attack, you would be quick to help each other. To you, it meant something very different, and your growing crush since day one of the trip was to blame. Jotaro was just a door away from your bed.

You bit your lip as warmth pooled at your core. God fucking dammit. Once again, you let out a sigh. Why him, of all people? He probably thought that you were annoying, a nuisance, just like all the other girls that surrounded him all the time. What made you any different? Your Stand abilities? He probably just barely tolerated your presence.

Pouting to yourself, you turned off the shower and stepped out, when a sudden loud thud made you freeze. Did that come from your room or Jotaro's? You quickly wrapped a towel around your torso and slowly opened the bathroom door, just barely peeking out. Silence. Nothing. You swung the door open and jumped out, an attempt to surprise the possible enemy.

You were relieved to find no one in your room, but the moment of peace ended quickly with another noise coming from Jotaro's, followed by countless oras. This meant only one thing, he was fighting someone. You didn't hesitate and made haste to the door separating you from your friend. Upon opening it and running in, you met something hard and warm, only after a second realizing that you crashed into Jotaro's towering body.

"S-sorry!" you apologized and immediately took a step back, looking up at the delinquent. He seemed.. alright? But his expression was somewhat strange. He was shocked to see you, cheeks flushed and eyes wide open. There was a spark of something in those aquamarine orbs that scanned your entire body. Once you followed his gaze, it dawned on you that you just rushed into his room completely naked apart from the towel hugging your curves.

You were about to apologize once more and leave when Jotaro suddenly slammed the door shut behind you and cornered you against it.

"Uhh… Jotaro? Are you okay?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry. This was extremely out of character. Jotaro's breathing turned labored, you could feel his warm breath tickling your skin.

"Y/N," he managed to say, although with some struggle, "I don't know what's- I think it's a Stand ability-" Suddenly he grabbed your chin and his lips were on yours. Blood rushed to your cheeks immediately and your knees almost gave in once his smell hit your nose. Was this really happening? Jotaro was kissing you? You whimpered against him, closing your eyes shut. You were confused, lost, and even though you had dreamt of this moment many times, something was off and you had to ask him what the hell was going on.

You pushed him away with a lot of effort and gasped for air before speaking, "Jojo! What the hell is happening?!" Instead of an answer, however, all you got was having your wrists pinned to the door by his much bigger hands. He brought his lips to your neck.

"I don't know," he growled, "you're so fucking hot…" You yelped slightly when he bit the sensitive skin. That's when you noticed the dust on his shoulder, or was it sand? No, it was too soft to be sand. That was definitely some kind of pollen. But there were no flowers around, so the only explanation was a Stand.

You wanted to ask him about it. Talk it out, make sense of the situation and why he was suddenly so affectionate with you, but you couldn't. Not with the feeling of his skin against yours and his lips tracing your neck and jaw.

Suddenly, he brought a leg between your legs, rubbing his knee against the soft spot. You let out a moan and blushed at the dirty sound you just produced. A groan left Jotaro's throat and once again his lips met yours. This, combined with the way his leg grinded against you, sent shivers down your spine, as all your thoughts except for the ones concerning Jotaro dissipated completely. Great heat emanated from his body and you rolled your hips to meet his knee until he just couldn't take it anymore and thrusted his hips against yours. The feeling of his hard cock straining against his tight jeans drove you crazy and you felt dizzy as his tongue entered your mouth. He was growing impatient, but so were you.

He let go of your wrists. He didn't need to hold you anymore, you were complacent to his efforts, that much was evident from how fast you wrapped your arms around his neck. He rolled up the hem of your towel and you gasped at the sensation of his thick fingers between your folds, teasing at your entrance and making you groan at the light scraping against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Jotaro," you moaned out his name the second your lips disconnected. The neediness could be heard in your voice and Jotaro picked up on it immediately, taking it as a sign of your consent.

Your hands hurried down to unbuckle one of his many belts and you groaned in annoyance at the realization that you'd have to undo one more, eliciting a low chuckle from him. He let go of your hips to aid you in freeing his cock. The sight of its size made you lick your lips in anticipation. God, he was big. Would he even fit? A small whimper left your lips and Jotaro aimed his attention back at you; gripping your hips so tightly you were sure it would leave bruises, he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his hips.

Unable to hold back anymore, Jotaro lowered you down onto his throbbing cock and penetrated you slowly. You were about to moan really loud, but he silenced you with his mouth, probably not wanting to disturb the other people in the hotel. The way his thickness stretched you sent you to cloud nine, so much so that you found it nearly impossible to form a coherent thought. Your hands clutched the fabric of Jotaro's tank top as if your life depended on it, and you signaled that you were ready by rocking your hips against the delinquent.

While you were somewhat vocal by moaning and gasping for air, Jotaro had yet to let out a sound other than a quiet growl or groan. He was a man of few words after all and this came as no surprise to you, but a certain speck of curiosity sparked at the back of your mind: what could you do to make him vocal? Was there something you could do to make him unravel? Your thoughts dispersed once Jotaro began slamming his hips against yours with fervor and this time it was truly hard to silence you as you clawed at anything you could hold onto. His hard cock hit spots you didn't know existed and it felt just right inside you. Tears formed in your eyes and threatened to overspill from the ultimate high Jotaro brought you to and your walls clenched around his girth as you felt a very familiar knot in your stomach. A guttural sound escaped Jotaro's throat, "Fuck, you're so fucking tight." His thrusts grew sporadic the more the both of you neared climax and finally, with a few more thrusts, he bottomed out and spilled his seed inside of you. The feeling of the warm liquid made you arch your back and slam your head back as you let out a drawn out moan, your legs twitching with the orgasm that crashed over you like a tsunami.

Jotaro slouched over and rested his head onto your shoulders, breathing heavily. So were you, out of breath, somewhat satisfied.. and yet not. It was not enough. There was something inside you begging for more. Did you inhale that pollen? It was safe to assume that it was to blame for the way Jotaro was acting. Now you were affected by it as well and it created insatiable hunger deep in your gut, not for anything material, but for the addictive feeling of Jotaro stretching you out. And the fact that he remained hard even after climax proved that he felt the same way.

You rocked your hips against him and he let out a hitched breath - bingo. Jotaro was definitely still craving more. He pulled away and looked you in the eyes, cheeks flushed. No words were needed - you nodded and he picked you up over his shoulder, walked over to the bed and proceeded to toss you onto it. Without a moment of hesitation, his lips were on yours in another passionate kiss, tongues swirling, this time much more coordinated. You snaked your hand down his abs to give his cock a few pumps and his hips thrusted against it obediently, which made you smirk against Jotaro's lips.

You noticed his focus falter as your hand jerked his cock and used it to your advantage, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. He looked up at you wide-eyed, surprised at the sudden act of dominance. From the frown he gave you, you could tell that he wasn't very ecstatic about having the reins taken from him, but that didn't stop you from anything - in fact, now you were even more tempted to force him into submission. Jotaro tried to sit up and grab your neck, but you didn't let him, using your Stand to pin him down and tie his wrists to the bed frame. He growled up at you, however his cock throbbed beneath you. That was a surprising turn of events. Was he into this? You always took him for a control freak - he most likely still was - but maybe it wouldn't be so bad to switch the roles every now and then.

You rubbed your clit against his girth teasingly, biting your lip as the cum that dripped from your hole coated him. Your movements elicited a low growl from the man underneath you, yet he didn’t put up a fight. His hips bucked upwards and you shivered at the contact with your bundle of nerves.

“Shit,” he growled, “fuck me already, Y/N.” You bit your lip hard, his words alone were enough to feed the flames within you, but you held back, set on pissing Jotaro off to see how he would behave. (Un)fortunately, you got your answer sooner than you had anticipated. Something grabbed your hair and yanked you backwards, forcing you to bend your back. You yelped in surprise and froze as soon as you saw Star Platinum on his knees behind you, his loincloth just barely covering the huge bulge underneath.

While your focus was on the purple Stand, Jotaro freed himself and dug his nails into your hips - that’s when you knew you lost all power over him. You blindly reached for anything in front of you in hopes of grabbing onto something, but before you could do so, Jotaro thrusted all of his length inside you and you moaned at how well he stretched you out once again. Star used that opportunity to shove his cock in your mouth and before you knew it you were moaning around him. The soft, shaky ora he let out was so adorable that it made butterflies dance in your stomach, however Jotaro left you no space to gush over his Stand and began thrusting into you frantically and mercilessly. As your head bobbed because of Jotaro’s movements, you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking Star’s cock just to hear him produce more of those sweet sounds, and boy were you successful. He was losing it, together with Jotaro judging by the more and more vocal groans.

As Jotaro’s thrusts picked up speed and the slapping of skin against skin filled the room, Star finally gripped your cheeks and shoved his cock deeper down your throat. You gagged and closed your eyes as tears welled up in them, but you couldn’t deny that you liked it. Star ran his fingers over your neck, feeling his own girth, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, warm liquid spilled down your throat. The knot in your abdomen came undone and your walls clenched around Jotaro’s cock in waves, yet he didn’t stop ramming into you until he came to a climax himself. Once Star slipped out of you, your body fell to the side, exhausted. Both you and Jotaro were breathing heavily, coming down from your highs. And yet… the two of you exchanged a look. You weren’t done.

You lay face down on the bed. Your eyes were pinned to the clock which stood on the nightstand. 03:00, it read. Your entire body hurt, especially your private parts and throat. How many times had you done it now? You lost count after the 4th round. As your consciousness faded out, you felt Jotaro’s arm around you and his lips on your shoulder.

“Holy crap, Y/N! You look like shit, did you not sleep well?” Polnareff’s voice felt like knives digging right into your temples. You sat in the lounge of the hotel with dark circles under your eyes and a cup of tea in your hands. Jotaro didn’t look much better, but at least he could speak. He pulled the tip of his cap down to cover his face.

“Good grief, Polnareff, keep it down,” he grumbled and sipped his black coffee. You sighed to yourself. Fingers crossed you wouldn’t have to walk too much today.

[heroprose]

the regular;

a/n. well what do u know.... turns out i WILL be writing for jojo on this blog...... @jojosmilktea, that is!! hi jojo i was ur bnha spring event anon! and i’m SOOO sorry this is late RIP!!!

ship. shoto todoroki x reader

summary. bubble tea shop au. it’s true that he knows your order by heart, but he wishes he knew a little more.

//

to be quite honest, you didn’t know this bubble tea shop even existed in this part of the city. 

it certainly didn’t look the part, all pristine with white stone walls and flower boxes hooked onto the closed glass windows. no, in fact it looked a little too bougie for this gray high rise district and you suspect that if it were not for the current downpour, wherein great big rivulets of water are endlessly streaming down the streets, hipsters would populate this cafe’s space in no time.

you cannot blame them, of course. it’s certainly a nice building and totally instagram-worthy. but what attracts you to it is not the vintage stone walls nor the massive poster plastered on the inside of the glass window, with vibrant letters that spell out NEW SEASONAL FLAVORS! but instead, it’s the generous pink awning in front that’s saving you from the insidious downpour. 

you were supposed to do a little grocery shopping before heading home, damn it. technically, though, you could brave the rain for a while and shop for bread and eggs while sopping wet, but it’s a deeply unappealing idea. it doesn’t help that your go-to grocer with the terrific deals is three train stops away either and that your phone is dead, drained from too many rounds of crossy road on your commute long before the rain even began.

restless, you squint through the window of the shop inconspicuously and gape in horror as you realize it is just as cute inside as it is outside. from what you can tell, it’s set up like a little garden party, with metal outdoor chairs and circular tables and the tiles even have flower smiley face stickers on them. oh no. 

it is something of a relief you’ve only discovered this bubble tea shop now because any earlier would have you blowing your bank account on extra boba and grass jelly. and in this economy? not ideal.

still, your eyes waver to the poster again. rose milk tea? peach iced tea? the prices aren’t listed anywhere so you presume they must be absolutely monstrous. completely insane, probably, and jacked up immensely to compensate for the expenses gone in the decor alone and--

“we’re open, you know. you can come in.”

you pull away from the window hastily, letting your back bump into the metal back of chair. biting back a cry of pain, you eye the speaker head-to-toe before letting your shoulders slack. the black apron tied at his waist screams barista. actually, everything about this dude screams barista, from the rolled up sleeves to the vaguely disheveled collar. even the watch on his wrist-- woah. is that a limited edition tag heuer watch? you blanch a little.

he grips the broom with both hands and gestures with the jerk of his chin to the door. “you can come in,” he repeats. his bangs flutter about his forehead thanks to the gusts of wind and it’s a bit mesmerizing to see the red and white flutter like that. 

“oh,” you say, desperate to recompose yourself as you pretend you weren’t wringing out droplets of water from your clothing just minutes before. “it’s okay, thank you. i’m just waiting for the rain to pass.”

the barista opens his mouth but before he can speak, a loud clap of thunder zips through you and goosebumps erupt across the expanse of your skin. with ears ringing, you wince and the tag heuer-wearing fellow only watches. you purse your lips, glancing from him. to the onslaught of rain, to finally the door. 

well. so much for staying outside. wordlessly, he pulls the door open for you and you oblige quietly, mumbling a small word of thanks as you pass him.

unsurprisingly, the shop is wholly vacant, save for him, the boy who follows you in, and another barista behind the counter, who leans against the table behind him with arms crossed. the radio is on but it’s turned down so low that it might as well be off.

it would be painful to loiter in this shop for an hour or so without buying anything, so begrudgingly, you pull out your wallet and pray to whatever higher deity up there that you won’t get hooked on their drinks and subsequently, their freakish prices. you’ve got a budget, for goodness sake. 

when you step to the counter, the barista that met you outside sets his broom aside to meet you on the other side. “what would you like?” he asks automatically, with the tilt of his head. you glance over the menu above his head despite knowing your answer deep inside your heart.

“taro milk tea, please,” you say, bringing your gaze back to him. a trickle of rainwater slides down the curve of his cheek and you have to tear your gaze away. “medium, with boba. and extra sugar too.”

“will that be it?”

“yes,” you reply with your eyes downcast, carefully deciding on whether to use cash or credit. maybe you can use some of your spare coins this time.

his gold name tag says “shoto,” and it gleams even in your peripheral vision as he nods and turns to the other barista with the spiky hair who stands a few ways’ away and glowers a bit. 

“katsuki,” says shoto. “one medium taro milk tea with--”

“yeah, yeah,” says the other barista snappishly. “i heard. i’m literally right here.” he pulls away from the table and exits to the back forcefully and you two watch him in relative silence. a guitar-heavy shawn mendes song plays in the background; played too softly for you to determine which one though.

shoto’s gaze swivels back to you, undisturbed by the attitude his coworker just presented and so you do your best to remain indifferent as well. it is similarly pure irony to have such a gentle cafe hosted by such personalities. 

“name?” he simply asks and you tell him, not bothering to question why that was still necessary if you were the only customer in the entire shop. 

and it is equally strange that after katsuki returns with your drink, about to hand it to you, shoto acts to intercepts with an extended hand to take the cup away.

“what are you doing?” says katsuki incredulously, drawing back.

shoto presents the sticker with the order printed on it in the air. “i need to put this on.”

“seriously? it’s not like you could hand it to the wrong person,” he mutters, but lets shoto tease it out of his hand before promptly returning to the kitchen again, letting the doors swing behind him. you refrain from smiling too wide as shoto carefully presses the sticker onto the cup behind the counter with an unexpectedly concentrated expression on his face.

when he utters your name to catch your attention, shoto slides your drink over to you, not letting go until your fingers accidentally brush over his. “here you go.”

“thank you,” you say brightly, shaking it for good measure. the ice clinks distract you momentarily from the noise of rain hitting concrete. the cream and purple taro swirl together brilliantly.

he nods, turning away to take a cleaning rag into his hands. shoto wipes at the counter meticulously, every once in a while swiping a smudge with his fingertips to evaluate his work. the quiet is only periodically punctured by the clap of thunder and when shawn mendes starts belting out the background adlibs via the radio.

“when do you think the rain will let up?” you muse absentmindedly, fingers drumming the raised counter as you push along your bubble tea and dig around the container for a straw of your favorite color. “not for long, i hope.”

shoto blinks, glancing up. “i heard it’ll last all through the night.”

steely dread pools at the bottom of your stomach. “no!” you gasp, confronting shoto. “really? i don’t have an umbrella or anything.” you didn’t hear anything of the sort, but then again, you haven’t checked the forecast since this morning. maybe you can wave down a cab or something. you let out a brief laugh of disbelief that rapidly devolves into a groan. “man. that stinks.”

he looks at you sympathetically, watching you deftly pierce the plastic seal top of your milk tea with more force than necessary. 

you bring the straw to your mouth, sipping quietly as you think of your next line of action. the richness is disturbingly good and you’re saddened to know that you’ll be returning in the future, rain or no rain. 

taking a seat in a metal chair, you finally give the shop a thorough glance over. with all the bright lights and pale wallpaper plastered with colorful stickers. above you, the ceiling vents buzz quietly. the whole shop is just--

“dazzling,” you murmur after several minutes, submitting to its glamour. “everything’s so pretty here.” the interior designer really went ham here and it shows. you fish your phone out of your slightly damp pocket and wipe at the screen with a sigh. you’d even take a photo if you could.

unbeknownst to you, shoto had left the counter upfront and is wiping down a table nearby as you speak. “thank you,” he says and you jolt, head snapping towards his direction. “we do our best to be presentable and comfortable.”

“full marks on both then,” you say breezily and a ghost of a smile teases at his lips before he walks away to the backroom. 

he’s amused. did he think you were funny? your ears start to warm up a little and you drain your milk tea faster. in any case, it’s best that you brave the storm sooner than later. 

there’s little doubt that the rain won’t be stopping any time soon and it would really be the icing on the cake if you not only got stuck in a thunderstorm but fell ill as well. you’ve realized, from all your years of life, that people don’t appreciate their functional nostrils until they get stuffed. 

and you don’t know how much time passes in that cafe with the absence of clocks and your phone, but after catching yourself glancing over at shoto for the fifth time, wondering if you can make him smile like that again, you finally think that enough is enough. your chewing speeds up. 

then you stand up, careful to not let the metal feet scrape the tiles. should you just book it, through the rain? or should you stand under the awning a little longer, hoping the rare cab will notice your helpless self and save you? as you mull these thoughts over, you toss the cup into the bin and wipe your hands with a spare napkin, getting rid of the condensation.

“wait.” 

shoto’s calm voice makes you whirl around yet again.

as he walks closer, you notice that he’s gripping something in his hand and you can only bring yourself to stare as he presents it to you.

“take it,” he says. “this is my umbrella.”

your heart stutters for a second. “huh? no, i couldn’t,” you say hastily, dismissing him with a wave. “that’s really kind of you though, thank you.”

“but you said you didn’t have one.”

you give him a quizzical look. “but if i take yours, then you don’t have one.”

“katsuki-- um, the other person who works here-- lives near me. we commute together sometimes. so please,” he says, gesturing the closed umbrella.  you wrap your fingers around the clear plastic gingerly to his coaxing. “take it.” 

tears nearly prick your eyes as you lean over to pat him on the arm graciously. he’s more alarmed than anything else as you do, silently wide-eyed, and is it only then that you notice his eyes are different colors. “thanks, shoto. i’ll be back tomorrow to return it then. i promise!”

he gives you a quick nod. “i don’t work tomorrow. i’ll be here all weekend though.” 

“alright, shoto. i’ll see you on the weekend.”

“stay safe.”

you’re already turning away and pushing open the door before you see the flicker of a smile pass over his visage again.

/

“you gave away your umbrella?” says katsuki after the cafe closes later that evening. his eyes narrow down at his fellow coworker sharply. “to a damn customer?”

“it’ll get returned,” assures shoto. his upper arm is warm where you had touched him, and his hand hovers over it for a second before he shrugs on his jacket.

“that’s not the point,” his coworker seethes, angrily hanging up his apron. “my car is two blocks over and i was relying on you to do your part in bringing the umbrella. idiot!”

ah.

/

you come back that sunny weekend, with shoto’s trusty transparent umbrella in hand... as well as the weekend after. and the weekend after that. sans the excuse of the umbrella, of course.

when it is katsuki that greets you at the counter, he does little to hide his disapproval of your order; grunting when you greet him with a cheerful “hi katsuki!” and grimacing each time when you smile and add, “with extra sugar!” to your order.

“you’re aware of how much sugar is already in this stuff, right?” he tells you. 

“i’m here for a good time, not a long time,” you reply. “and are you really supposed to be asking me that? as someone who works here?”

katsuki scoffs and wordlessly punches your order in anyway. his brew, however, is immaculate without fail so you don’t question his tactics.

but when it is shoto... he greets you warmly, stretching the conversation by asking about how you are and about your day.

“the regular?” he eventually asks after several weeks of you making the same order as the last. 

you smile. “the regular.”

sometimes, you loiter near the counter when it’s not busy. you learn, with some semblance of glee, that shoto is a student like yourself and he only works part-time-- the rainy afternoon you met him on had been a shift he was covering for someone else. other times all you can do is take your drink and wave him goodbye.

even on the extremely busy days where you cannot even find a vacant seat, there are brief seconds where you think of leaning against the wall and enjoying the atmosphere. it is a startling realization, how desperate you want to linger in his presence. 

your affection is making you ill. ugh, and being bloated is not a good look on you either.

drinking taro milk tea at competitor bubble tea shops don’t even sate you. it’s always too watery, too thin; the flavors rounding off as bitter, over brewed tea. but you drink them to wean yourself off. you should probably stop drinking them altogether though.

some time passes before you can find it in yourself to return. the storefront is as pretty as it always is whenever you pass it by on your commute.

“hey, how are you? have you been alright?” asks shoto right off the bat, dropping his washrag haphazardly beside the sink when you find yourself at the counter again after the weeks of hearty self-restraint.

his concern is so vivid it unnerves you. it’s a funny and ill-placed nervous look on his face, eyebrows pulled tense. “i’m fine,” you say, “how have you been?”

“i’m well,” shoto says. “and... that’s good. it’s been a while. i thought you might have started getting your milk tea fix from somewhere else.” he pauses. “have you?”

his sincerity makes you throw your head back and laugh, but your stomach gurgles at the recollection of drinking so many subpar taro milk teas. “never,” you tell him finally. “i like this place too much. and the people here too.”

“i see.” shoto’s smile is bright this time, eyes so soft even as he speaks. “the regular then?”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, your own gaze crinkling up. “you know me so well, shoto.”

/

“quit freakin’ flirting at the counter,” snaps katsuki, mopping the floor vigorously. “do that shit when you’re not at work, icy-hot. it’s disgusting that i have to stand here and listen to you two.”

shoto frowns. “it’s not flirting. we have to be kind to customers.” he calls from the kitchen.

“kindness is you giving extra napkins, not asking if they’ve been going to other bubble tea shops. as if.”

“we’re... just friends then.”

“just friends, my ass. what, you think that extra sugar ass sweet tooth loser came in every week alone just to get tea? you know what...” katsuki’s peeved grumbles trail off until they’re no longer comprehensible.

shoto just ponders on this as he drains the sink.

/

“here,” says katsuki one saturday afternoon. “take it. and go.” he pushes the purple drink into your hand and wipes his own hand on his apron. “extra sugar. don’t blame me when your teeth fall out.”

“damn,” you say, although you are hardly taken aback by his crudeness anymore. “but i will. i’ve got a lot to do today, so i can’t stay and chat. bye guys!”

“take care,” says shoto just as katsuki says, “don’t care, didn’t ask.”

(when you wave goodbye, however, you are pleased to see that they both reciprocate kindly.)

by the time you eventually take a sip, you’re already on your way to the rail to get to your favorite grocery store. today, it’s buy one get one free bags of potatoes so you know you’ll be stocking up this time.

mindlessly, you pierce the top with your straw, careful to aim for the center. you give it a stir before taking a sip, the familiar creaminess filling your mouth. 

although it’s... different, somehow. 

sweeter, you think. did katsuki actually overload it with sugar this time? seemed like a weird prank to pull. perhaps he was teaching you a lesson but considering that he hasn’t been fired yet indicates that this was an infrequent occurrence. hopefully. 

chewing the boba thoughtfully, you pull the cup away in order to squint at the dark text printed on the sticker. it’s the same as you always say it: a medium, iced, taro milk tea, with boba and 25% extra--

the word “sugar” is scrawled over with black ink, although not deliberately it seems. it’s just covered up with a slew of numbers and letters written unbelievably neat in spite of being on a cylindrical cup and you nearly hack up a black clump of sugary boba onto the concrete sidewalk. 

but nevertheless, you force it down to look at the order again, more closely this time.

they’re numbers, and your heart stutters in your chest at the realization there’s just enough to be a phone number; followed by a name that you only ever saw emblazoned on a gold name tag.

you want to commit the numbers to memory, but it’s undeniably hard to concentrate. not when shoto’s gentle smile is on the forefront of your brain and  when big, fat droplets of water are hitting your forehead with incredible force. 

you glance up at the swirling, ashen clouds above you, bloated and expecting. an uncomfortable feeling crawls up your spine at the realization that you’ve forgotten your umbrella at home today too. 

oh god. not again.

/

“i can’t believe you actually wrote your number on my cup today... very smooth, shoto.”

there’s a beat before shoto replies, his voice tinny and distant over the phone. “actually, i did that the first day you came in-- when it was raining. i figured you didn’t notice or you were rejecting me.”

“oh. so, wait-- you did it twice then? that day and today?”

“no,” says shoto. “just that day.”

“then who--” you stop yourself.

outside your window, a clap of thunder shakes the sky. and the epiphany that follows renders you both silent.

[sohin-ace]

Jonathan - The Date

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

You and Jonathan were currently out in the city together. Your older sibling asked you to bring a list of groceries back home.

You naturally asked your boyfriend to come with you, and of course, he happily accepted to tag along.

So you were both on a shopping date, goofing around mostly, and almost forgetting half of what you were supposed to bring back.

Everything became instantly more pleasant and fun when Jonathan was with you. Even the most boring or troublesome of tasks became colorful and memorable when he came.

Right now, you completed half of your list and it was still fairly early, which was quite impressive for you.

"Let's go to the market, then we'll take a well deserved break at a café, what do you think?" You proposed as you started to get a little bit tired and hungry from walking all day.

"Sure, Y/N, let's go!"

You both entered the market place that was bustling with people. Expected since it was a Saturday morning. But the more you walked, the busier it became.

It started to be hard to walk side by side and, short as you were, Jonathan was scared to lose you in the crowd.

"Y/N take my hand!" he offered his huge hand to you and you grabbed it for dear life.

His hand was warm and comforting over yours. You tried to stay as close to him as possible. When it started to get too difficult to stay entertwined with the boy, Jonathan pulled you in front of him and wrapped one arm around you from behind, locking you against his strong chest.

You blushed at the bold move, but relaxed against him and you both walked through the mass of people way more efficiently.

When you finally arrived at the merchant you were looking for, you picked up what you needed, paid and put everything in your basket with a satisfied grin on your face.

"Here, it must be heavy, let me carry it for you." Jonathan proposed, like the proper gentleman that he was.

"O-oh it's fine Jojo, don't worry!" You reassured the male, but he still took the basket from your hands regardless of your protests and the merchant couldn't help their giggle.

"What a nice gallant young man you found yourself there, miss. I wish you two the best~."

You blushed a deep red at the remark and Jonathan thanked them with a big smile as you both went on your way.

"So Y/N, what would you like to eat? I'm so hungry I could eat anything, so you can choose whatever you'd like."

"Hmmm... Do you want to see my uncle's bakery? He makes the best sandwiches in the whole city!" Jonathan couldn't help but chuckle at how cute you were when your eyes lit up.

He loved how you were such a big foodie sometimes. Small as you were, at least compared to him, you sure liked to eat a lot, especially baked goods. And so you lead him eagerly by the arm towards your uncle's awaiting bakery.

You introduced Jonathan to your uncle and the interactions between them were pretty wholesome, you thought.

"Don't you dare hurt my niece or I'll come for ya, got it big boy?!" Jonathan nodded frantically, sweating bullets. "Good! Would you like some cheese bread? They're fresh outta' the oven!" He grinned towards the male, completely changing his tone and Jonathan deadpanned as you giggled.

You stayed inside the warm bakery and talked over some tea and eventually lost track of time. You quickly went out the shop to finish off your mission after eating and thanked your uncle.

"We're almost finished, Jojo, stay with me!" you tried to encourage your boyfriend whose soul was currently leaving his body.

He should have toned down on the cheese bread, but it was so delicious. He was so full he could barely walk now, how did you do it?

"Ughhh... Y/N, please... Slow down..." He groaned holding his full belly, like a pregnant woman.

A few more hours later you were finally done and you were both strolling back to where your car was waiting. You were tired from walking so much, but you were happy and satisfied.

"I had fun today, Jojo. Thank you for accompagnying me." You said gratefully, walking beside him at a slow, relaxed pace.

"Of course, anything for you, my Y/N. I had a great day too, let's date like this more often." He spoke with a soft look in his blue eyes and love laced in his voice.

Your heart skipped a beat and your face flushed. This boy made you melt with the simplest things. Too embarrassed to say anything, you hugged his arm and hid your face.

The dark haired male instantly moved his arm from your grasp to wrap it around you so you would hug his chest instead, which you did. He chuckled and you kept walking like this until you saw your coachman waiting down the street.

"Oh, Sebastian!" You waved at him and jogged towards the vehicle, as he must have been waiting for a while now.

Both you and Jonathan climbed in and you were finally on the way back home. Good thing you lived close to one another.

The sun was already setting down, leaving only its last golden rays shine through the twilit sky. The Joestar heir stared at the beautiful scenery, mesmerized, until he felt a weight on his shoulder.

He turned his head only to find you, fallen asleep on him. You must have been more tired than what you seemed.

He snaked his arm around your waist to secure you from the car's jerks, and went back to staring at the scenery.

He subconsciously brushed his fingers up and down your arm, thinking about how lucky he was to have such a cute, caring girlfriend when everyone else left him for his brother, Dio.

His train of thoughts was stopped when he saw your house in the distance. The coachman finally parked and stopped the horses.

"Milady L/N. We have arrived." He called out as he climbed down andopened the door, waiting for you to descend.

Jonathan then leaned over close to you and carressed your peaceful face with his knuckles.

"Hey Y/N wake up, we're home." He softly purred, effectively waking you up.

You opened your eyes to see the beautiful blue ones of your lover smiling at you. What a bliss it was, to see him first thing upon waking up. You rubbed your eyes and sat up straight groggily.

"Oh.. I fell asleep, how embarassing." You muttered hoarsely to yourself, but Jonathan definitely heard you and chuckled.

"It's okay my love," he cupped your cheeks and wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb. "You can fall asleep all you want when I'm here."

You blushed and your breath hitched at his sweet words. You looked down and grabbed his hands before he ushered you to follow him. He got out and climbed down the tall carriage with no difficulty, then waited for you to help you down.

You gripped your frilly dress, careful not to stumble on it and descended one step, grabbing Jonathan's extended hand, but as soon as you did, your knees gave up on you and you lost balance.

"Aah!!" You yelped and Jonathan instantly caught you in his arms, wrapping them around your waist as you wrapped yours around his neck, holding onto him for dear life.

"Milady L/N! Are you alright?" Your coachman gasped with concern.

Jonathan gently held you there for a moment. He smiled at Sebastian, mouthing him that everything was okay and that he could go and the man sighed in relief, complying.

When you came down from your shock, you leaned away a bit to look down at Jonathan's face, who was looking right back at you and you gasped.

"J-jojo! I must be heavy! Put me down before you hurt your back!" He chuckled charmingly, fighting the urge to kiss your cute lips.

"Not at all, my darling, it's like holding a tiny cat."

You both giggled together and you leaned in to rub your nose against his in an eskimo-kiss. He blushed warmly at your gesture, which he found absolutely and insanely adorable, but was not exactly what he was hoping for.

Too shy to voice his desire, he coulf only stare at you lovingly when you leaned back, a beautiful smile gracing your face. He decided to put you back down onto the ground before your divine beauty so close to him could break him.

"Are you sure you are okay Y/N? You scared me right there." He asked as he held onto you tightly, scared you'd collapse again.

"I'm fine! Just a little dizzy haha!" You sheepishly laughed it off and scratched your cheek. "I must still be sleepy."

"Don't be so reckless when I'm not here, okay? What will I do if you get hurt?" He scolded you playfully and you showed him a surprised expression. How bold of him.

"Huh? You're one to talk! Mr. 'I-get-into-fights-with-anyone-especially-Dio'!"

He blushed and gasped loudly, offended by the truth, and you giggled at his defenseless reaction. Darn it, you were right!

You both walked slowly towards your house and his heart was beating faster and faster with each step. If he didn't do it now, he would regret it later.

He turned to face you and stopped in his tracks, taking a sudden breath. "...Please don't be upset by this."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "By what?"

He didn't waste any more seconds and cupped your cheeks in his hands, leaning in for a chaste kiss, slow and lingering.

You melted into his delicate touch, you could tell he tried his best to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to be too rough and eager on you.

Your lips were so plush against his, and your scent was so addictive, he could only crave more of you. He was no enamored with you, there wasn't a single thing about you that wasn't absolutely delicious.

He reluctantly separated from you, scared to lose control if he kept it any longer.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked first, I just couldn't help it, I love you so much, it's hard to think straight..."

You smiled at his adorable shyness. You grabbed his hand and gently pressed your lips over the sensitive skin of his wrist. He shuddered and you looked back at him with hooded eyes.

"I'm yours, Jojo. You don't have to ask for anything, you can do whatever you want with me." You said kindly, but his face exploded in a crimson shade, taking your words the wrong way.

"Nooo no no Y/N! Don't say things like that!!" He gasped and put his hands on your shoulders as your eyes widened. "I may be nice but... I am still a man! Be careful with what you say!" He yelped in panick as you didn't seem to even realize what you were saying.

"Wha- but it's okay! I never ask you for permission when I touch you! So you can too..." You said as a matter of fact and he tried to argue without saying anything too brutal for your innocent mind.

"B-but... It's not the same! And you are a girl! Don't offer yourself so recklessly!" He shook his head vigorously. "And be careful around men, alright?"

Confused at his sudden worry you patted his cheek and smiled. "You are the only man I see anyway, so don't worry."

He sighed in relief and decided to end the conversation there. "Come here."

He opened his strong arms out to you and you wrapped your smaller ones around him, both appreciating each other's warmth.

"Thank you again for the date, Jojo."

He only squeezed you tighter in response.

Jonathan  🤝🏼 Abdul

Saving your girlfriend in the crowd.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: The Rogues Gallery of the Powerpuff Girls

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

There are few rogues galleries I hold in higher esteem than that of the Powerpuff Girls. Aside from Spider-Man, Batman, and Danny Phantom, there are few heroes who can claim to have a more colorful and creative set of foes than the crimefighting superheroines of the city of Townsville. Previously I’ve talked about their archenemy, the wonderfully devilish Mojo Jojo, but they have a lot of other great villains worth talking about… so, why not just talk about all of them at once?

This one’s gonna be a little different, and will be divided into two sections: MAJOR ANTAGONISTS and MINOR ANTAGONISTS. Major antagonists will be villains that the girls fought most frequently, while minor antagonists will be notable one shot villains and lesser foes.

MAJOR ANTAGONISTS

These are the foes that the girls face most frequently in the series, and the ones that will likely come to mind when you think of the show’s rogues gallery. Aside from Mojo Jojo, and according to TVTropes, the major antagonists from the series are Him, Fuzzy Lumpkins, the Gangreen Gang, Princess Morbucks, the Amoeba Boys, Sedusa, and the Rowdyruff Boys.

Motivation/Goals: The major antagonists all tend to vary in what exactly they want to do, but they all have one thing in common: their motivations are broad enough that they can fit into a wide variety of plots. Him is the best example, because his goal tends to be a vague mix of “take over the city/world” and “be an absolute dick,” which leads to all sorts of battles such as the bad future where he rules the Earth or the episode where he sends the girls out on a series of ridiculous riddles as part of a bet with Professor Utonium to see if he has to pay his full tab at Him’s pancake restaurant. Considering Him is supposed to be a stand in for Satan himself and is the ultimate evil of the show (even if his power level doesn’t always reflect that), it makes sense he’d constantly be doing crazy, tricky schemes like this.

Of course, not all of these villains are massive threats like Him; others are simply nuisances, like the Gangreen Gang, who just love going out and committing crimes for the fun of it in between their leader Ace moonlighting as a member of the Gorillaz. While they are still dangerous, they tend to be motivated to do things just because they find it amusing, like when they snuck into the mayor’s office and crank called the girls into repeatedly harassing the other villains. Then there’s Princess, who is basically just a snotty superpowered bully who decided to turn to a life of crime because the girls wouldn’t let her become a Powerpuff Girl. She’s motivated entirely out of jealousy and spite, but she never really rises to the level of a truly world-threatening threat, though she did almost screw up Christmas one time to the point Santa decided to slap her on the permanent Naughty List. The final major antagonist who falls into this category is Sedusa, who true to her name, seduces men. That’s… about it. She also has prehensile hair.

The Rowdyruff Boys are kind of a mix of being super serious dangers and just being jerks, as they were created by Mojo to be the opposite of the girls and so have all of their powers but none of their good qualities aside from maybe their love for each other (which they rarely show, but it’s there). They’re mostly just jerks and love to cause chaos, but sicne they have all the same sort of abilities as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, they’re a lot more dangerous than the typical foe would be, and that’s not even counting the fact that their two “dads” are Him and Mojo, which means they have the cream of the crop when it comes to bad role models.

The last type of major villain is perhaps the funniest, because these are the villains who are just so bad at being evil that it’s comical. Fuzzy is a lighter example, as he’s not exactly bad at being evil; he’s just more not evil to begin with unless provoked or manipulated by other villains. He’s entirely content to just sit about at his shack, strumming his banjo, but if you piss him off he’s gonna grab his gun or a big old rock and cause some mayhem. The crown emperors of being failure villains, however, are the Amoeba Boys. These guys are the most utterly inept dumbasses you will ever see, a group so utterly bad at being bad that no one in the show is able to take them seriously. Since they are amoebas, albeit rather large ones, they don’t have the mental capacity to do much more than the most petty of crimes such as – GASP! - standing on grass when there’s a sign that says not to! Or even… LITTERING! Those fiends!

Performance: Tom Kane portrays Him, and alternately is able to make him hilarious and terrifying. It’s pretty amusing to think that the guy who played Professor Utonium and Mr. Herriman is capable of playing such a messed-up villain (ok, maybe not so much for the latter, Mr. Herriman was wack).

Fuzzy is portrayed by everyone’s favorite Trump supporting Pooh bear, Jim Cummings, and that good ol’ ragin’ Cajun accent he’d use in The Princess and the Frog and Zombie Island fits this southern hick quite well.

Ace, Big Billy, and Grubber of the Gangreen Gang are voiced by series MVP Jeff Bennet, who manages to make all three characters very distinct and unqiue in their voices, capturing the lovable oafishness of Billy and the smug leadership of Ace very well, and obviously whatever it is Grubber is doing. Lil’ Arturo and Snake are Tom Kenny, though the former was in his first appearance voiced by Carlos Alazraqui, which means twice now Tom Kenny has usurped Alazraqui in a voice role (the other time being the title character of the Spyro the Dragon franchise). Tom Kenny, being Tom Kenny, does a great job.

Princess and Sedusa are both voiced by Jennifer Hale, but I’m gonna be honest, neither of them are my favorite roles. Princess just has a really shrill and unpleasant voice - which is the point, mind you, I just don’t love it. Meanwhile, Sedusa is just forgettable.

The Amoeba Boys are Chuck McCann, and he gives all of them the exact sort of goofy, cartoonish Chicago gangster accent you could hope for, though each boy has a distinct voice. The other boy group, the Rowdyruffs, are voiced by Rob Paulsen for Brick and Boomer (the man behind the legend that is Carl Wheezer) and Butch is Roger L. Jackson (Mojo Jojo himself). As can be expected, the RRBs have very distinct voices, though I can’t say they’re quite as memorable as the characters they’re directly copying. 

Best Episode: So yeah, this time instead of individuals scenes, I’m highlighting the very best episodes of the various foes of the Girls. First, let’s get the obvious one out of the way: if we’re talking altogether for Him, Fuzzy, and Princess, their appearance alongside Mojo in “Meet the Beat Alls” is just utterly hilarious, ESPECIALLY Fuzzy’s rock, their breakup bickering, and just how they decide to come together and cause chaos. As far as villain teamups go, you can’t get better than one that is nothing but a constant string of Beatles references (though they lose some points for not drawing attention to the fact that Him is based on the Blue Meanie from Yellow Submarine).

Individually, for Him, it really depends on what you’re looking for, since he’s a very versatile villain. If you want him at his best and most serious, “Speed Demon” is the way to go, as it shows a bad future where he has completely won, which goes a long way towards establishing him as the single most dangerous enemy of the girls. But if you want funny Him, well, “Him Diddle Riddle” is an absolute riot which leads to one of the most shockingly ridiculous punchlines in the show. It’s a real treat.

For Fuzzy, I’d say his main series debut “Fuzzy Logic” is a great solo showing, firmly establishing the character and how he has changed from the initial pilot. Fuzzy is an amusing character to be sure, but I feel his best showings are in ensemble pieces, which is why I say his debut is his best work.

For the Gangreen Gang, the obvious answer is, of course, “Telephonies,” because this is them at their most hilariously petty. They just sneak into the mayor’s office and crank call the other villains, and in the end, the day is saved! ...By Mojo, Fuzzy, and Him. Even the narrator is baffled at this one, but you’ll probably be laughing too hard to care about that.

Princess gets one of the best Christmas specials ever with “’Twas the Fight Before Christmas,” where she scams Santa into giving her superpowers while every other kid in the world gets coal. Of course, the Girls don’t take this lying down, and Princess gets the most awesome comeuppance ever, courtesy of Santa: she gets her name carved into the Permanent Naughty Plaque which has such notable figures as Adolph Shicklgruber, who you may know better as fucking Hitler. That’s right, Santa came right out and said Princess Morbucks is as naughty as Hitler is.

The Amoeba Boys have their main series debut, “Geshundfight,” which does a firm job of establishing these guys as such utterly incompetent morons that you can’t help but love them. It also establishes that these guys could only ever be a threat by complete accident. It’s good to see the boys got better after the girls threw them into the sun in the “Whoopass Stew” pilot!

Sedusa has “Something’s a Ms.” While Sedusa herself tends to be a rather dull antagonist, this episode rules and is her best appearance for one reason and one reason alone: we get to see Ms. Bellum kick ass. Hell yeah!

“Custody Battle” is the best appearance of the Boys because, let’s face it, having Mojo and Him argue over who has the right to be called their dad (Mojo Created them, Him resurrected them) is absolutely hilarious, and a great use of the characters.

Final Thoughts & Score: Alright, let’s go one by one here:

Him

Him is easily the best of the bunch and, aside from Mojo, is the definitive Powerpuff villain. I think part of it is, much like Mojo, Him is capable of being a hilarious jerk or a genuinely intimidating threat in equal measure. You get showings where all he does is try and make the Professor pay a full tab on his breakfast or give everyone tooth decay or even just hang out in his house and do some aerobics, and then you have episodes where he decimates the earth in the future or torments the girls in their dreams. He kind of really fits a lot of the old folkloric tales of the devil, where he could be anything from a prankster to outright malicious, for all it’s worth, and being based on the Blue Meanie certainly doesn’t hurt either. He’s just a very fun character who fits into so many different situations, and so he easily gets a 10/10.

Fuzzy Lumpkins

Fuzzy is an odd one, because as I mentioned earlier, he’s not really a true villain in the sense that he goes out and commits crimes for the sake of it like the others. He’s more of a chaotic neutral force than anything, who goes on angry rampages or gets swayed over to the dark side whenever the mood suits him. It’s kind of interesting how he was a smarter and calmer character in the pilot, where he invented a gun that could turn things into meat… but in the show proper, he’s just a dumb, irritable hick. While he’s certainly not the best member of the rogues gallery, there’s something charming about Fuzzy, and I definitely love his design and voice; I think he gets a 7/10.

The Gangreen Gang

These guys are some of the more enjoyable antagonists in the rogues gallery despite typically not being a huge threat. I think, really, that’s what makes them so fun; they’re a lot more low-key and just in general more prone to just being dicks than doing anything on the level of Him or Mojo. They’re the fun kind of villains where you don’t ever really need to take them seriously, to the point you can fully accept their leader Ace joining the Gorillaz, which is a thing that actually happened in real life and it’s amazing. I think that alone is enough to edge these guys into a 9/10.

Princess Morbucks

So out of all the major antagonists, I think Princess is probably my least favorite, mostly because she’s just a snotty, entitled, rich little brat. That being said, I’m not overly opposed to her, nor do I hate her; I really can’t hate a character that Santa Claus deemed is the moral equivalent of Hitler. I can’t stress enough how much I love Santa came right out and said “Rich lives don’t matter” and just slapped this little girl with the most grievous punishment you could give. Overall, Princess functions as a casual reminder rich people suck, and I’m okay with that, even if she’s not particularly high on my favorites. 7/10 is a solid score for her, I feel.

The Amoeba Boys

Idiot villains wish they could be these guys. Literally, as far as idiotic harmless villains go, these lads are the absolute cream of the crop. The fact these are giant amoebas wearing fedoras and talking like stereotypical gangsters and yet are so incompetent they don’t even know how voodoo dolls work and think that littering and standing on grass is the greatest crime of all is just… amazing. These guys are perfect. And yet they are so incompetent and harmless that it’s almost unfair to call them villains, despite how desperately they want to be villains. The fact everyone in the show treats them as a mild annoyance at best really goes a long way to making these guys endearing. They’re certainly not the best foes in the rogues gallery, but I think an 8/10 is a good score for these single-celled suckers.

Sedusa

I’m frankly not sure why she’s considered a “main antagonist” on TVTropes; when I think of PPG villains, she really doesn’t come to mind. Frankly, if she is a “main” antagonist, she’s one of the most boring and forgettable ones there is. Sure, she has a couple of decent episodes, and of course the one where Ms. Bellum gets her time to shine is a classic, but overall Sedusa is just a mediocre villain who doesn’t do enough to stand out among the crowd. I’d say she’s a 4/10. I think if they had gone with the concept from her third appearance where she had all those cool Egyptian powers from the start she would have been a far more engaging and fun antagonist. But hey, she gave Ms. Bellum her time to shine, so I can’t really say she’s all too abysmal.

The Rowdyruff Boys

So… these guys. I’m not particularly sure what to really say about these guys. They’re some of the most popular antagonists the PPG have, and they have great interactions with Him and Mojo. But they’ve never quite struck me as being as amazing as others have hyped them up to be. Maybe I just don’t quite vibe with their concept. All that being said, though, they’re not bad antagonists in the slightest, I just kind of find them uninspired as a concept. It won’t keep me from giving them an 8/10, so don’t worry about that, I just don’t find the idea of evil versions of the PPG to be particularly interesting.

And now we go on to the lesser rogues, the one-shot or minor antagonists! They don’t have the major presence the villains above do, but remember, you don’t have to be a major reoccurring villain just to make an impact; sometimes you just gotta be good at what you do.

Also, this is by no means an exhaustive list; I’ve left off some minor antagonists and probably forgot some, and then there’s some that just don’t have enough info to talk about. Like, I would love to tell you all the wonders of Salami Swami, but there’s just not enough… oh well… let’s talk about these guys. And they aren’t going to have a best episode listed, because… well, they’re minor one-shot characters. By default their best appearance is their only appearance.

Motivation/Goals: Unlike with the major villains, there’s a lot more variety in the one-shot characters, with their goals ranging from simple robbery to revenge to chaos for the sake of it. And yes, sure, their major villains do that stuff too, but they tend to have a solid theme, whereas these folk tend to have one gimmick that they run with for a whole episode before vanishing, never to be seen again. For instance, Femme Fatale is a raging radical feminist; Abracadaver is a lich who seeks revenge for his violent, untimely death; the Gnome is a cult leader who commits mass genocide of other villains so that he can create a utopian society; and Mr. Mime is a mime.

What I think separates them from the major foes is that they have a singular gimmick and they need to really excel at it, because if they screw it up, they’re gonna go down in infamy. Femme Fatale is not a villain who is recalled fondly, for instance, because her gimmick was horribly botched. Meanwhile, characters like the Boogie Man or the Gnome are looked at more fondly because of their silly and cool gimmicks that make them stand out (being a disco-themed monster under the bed and being a gnome with a beautiful singing voice that sounds like a certain lead singer of Tenacious D, respectively).

Performance: Let’s go one by one on these:

The Gnome is voiced by none other than Jess Harnell, who you may know as Wakko Warner or the current (as of 2020) voice of numerous Crash Bandicoot characters, including everyone’s favorite Wumpa-loving title character. They couldn’t afford the real Jack Black, but I think that Harnell does a very impressive vocal imitation of JB, to the point where you’d be forgiven for assuming that it was JB in the first place. The fantastic singing voice is no shock if you’ve ever watched Animaniacs, but boy is it good to hear.

Jeff Bennet may be the MVP of the lesser rogues, as he voices Major Man, Dick Hardly, and Harold Smith. This is quite a variety of characters each with different personalities and goals, so it’s pretty great he was able to give them all the exact sort of vocal characterization they needed to be distinct. On the subject of the Smiths, though,

Femme Fatale is Grey DeLisle doing a very generic voice. Like, it sounds like a less cheerful Daphne or a less evil Azula. I think she may have just been talking in her normal voice for this one? It just doesn’t really have anything to it to make it stand out among her more notable roles.

Boogie Man is voice acting god Kevin Michael Richardson, who has voiced numerous characters I really should do a Psycho Analysis on such as Chairman Drek and Gantu. There’s really nothing else to say here, really; Richardson gives exactly the sort of glorious performance you’d expect for a funky blaxploitation pastiche boogeyman. Talk about black excellence!

Lenny is Tom Kenny. Tom Kenny really does a good job with weird geeks like this, and so what else can I say but he did a good job with this creepy neckbeard. Abracadaver is played by legendary voice actor Frank Welker, who is in literally everything, but who you mostly know as Fred from Scooby-Doo. Much like with Kenny, he kills it in the role.

Finally, our last speaking villain is Roach Coach, and he’s most notable because he is voiced by Roger L. Jackson, who would graduate from this starter one-shot to become none other than Mojo Jojo. I don’t find Roach Coach quite as memorable a performance, but Jackson certainly doesn’t half-ass it.

Final Thoughts & Score:

The Gnome

I think the Gnome is one of the single most fascinating one-shot villains in the series, and not just because “See Me, Feel Me, Gnomey” is a gloriously cheesy rock opera where he gets to be the villain. His philosophies are incredibly intriguing and are sort of the focus of the episode, and his effectiveness is frankly unmatched as a villain; he succeeds in killing every villain in the series for a time. And while he is a bit hypocritical in that he too wanted to rule over Townsville and transforms it into a cult, he does ultimately realize that he was in the wrong and not only graciously accepts his defeat, but allows himself to die to return the world to its natural order, stating:

“"As I descend to the earth and I view the universe above me, I realize that life evolves, revolves, and dissolves completely around the opposites. Therefore, I conclude that I cannot exist in my...utopian...mind."

That’s a low 9/10 if I ever saw one. They didn’t need to go and make this Jack Black gnome in a rock opera such a fascinating character, but there we have it.

Dick Hardly

Dick Hardly is one of the most “love to hate” characters in the show’s entire run, and it’s not hard to see why; he is the lowest of the low, the scummiest scum there ever was. Look at this excerpt from the PPG Wiki, which was a godsend when writing all this up:

“Despite appearing only once in the 1998 series and never in the various spin-offs or the 2016 series, Dick Hardly is among the franchise's most memorable villans [sic]. This is because he's the only member of the PPG Rogues Gallery who has absolutely no redeeming or comedic qualities. Most villains have lines they will never cross. However, Dick is ruthless enough to kill anyone in order to achieve his goals, even his own ex-friends. In fact, he actually manages to make HIM (who is nastier than Mojo Jojo) look like a saint in comparison.”

He’s a slimy, ruthless, unrepentant bastard, and the fact he’s one of the few villains to bite the big one just helps him stand out even more. Throw in his incredibly cool monstrous transformation, and despite his single episode it’s not hard to give this Dick a 9/10.

Femme Fatale

So not to be lazy, but I did kind of do a Psycho Analysis on Femme Fatale back when I did an Episodyssey on her sole appearance. And yeah, I stand by what I gave her there; she’s a 2/10. She’s just a really preachy, obnoxious, and poorly executed moralizing villain. I’m also gonna go out on a limb here and say that she probably hates trans people. I suppose that’s just a headcanon but… come on. Look at her. If this show was TV-14 and came out today, she’d be even less subtle in her contempt for trans people than every episode of South Park that featured Mrs. Garrison. Enough headcanons though; she doesn’t get the lowest marks possible because, quite simply, she has a pretty nice design and her voice acting is good enough since it is Jennifer Hale.

Mr. Mime

Oops, wrong picture.

There we go! Anyway, Mr. Mime is a really cool character with a frustrating resolution. Through no fault of his own, Rainbow the clown accidentally gets hit by a bleach truck and loses his color, becoming the evil Mr. Mime, gaining the ability to sap the color and sound from the world with a touch. He’s actually a seriously awesome concept, and the episode itself is good… and then comes the ending where, despite turning back to normal, Rainbow gets the crap kicked out of him and sent to jail, which is strangely cruel for the Girls to do. Apparently they later made amends, because Rainbow shows up at their birthday, but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. A 7/10 is a good score for this guy.

Boogie Man

The Boogie Man is arguably the greatest villain in anything ever. He is entirely built around one of the most groan-worthy puns imaginable and plays that pun up for all its worth, being a monster under the bed who utilizes a disco theme to the point he blocks out the sun with a gigantic disco ball. The dude has funky style and if that’s not enough, he’s voiced by Kevin Michael Richardson, who gives him the exact sort of voice he needs. The dude is just like something out of the craziest blaxploitation film ever, and he certainly brings the funk to the point where even though he only got one appearance in the series, I wouldn’t hate to bump this guy to an 8/10. What else is there to say but “Blame it on the boogie!”

The Smiths

These guys are just a very funny concept. I kind of like villains who do stuff for the pettiest, mundane reasons, and these guys take it all to the logical extreme. The patriarch of the family decides to dress up in a tacky supervillain outfit to get “revenge” on Professor Utonium because… he envies his perfect life. The rest of his family turn to villainy to avenge him, and are just as pathetic and ineffectual as he is. It’s so funny in a sad kind of way. I think a 6/10 is what they deserve, because while they aren’t particularly effective or groundbreaking, they’re at least good for a chuckle or two. Ultimately though they are a less impressive version of the Nelsons from Minions.

Major Man

Major Man is very interesting because he is very clearly an homage to Johnny Bravo; they’ve got the same hair, the same muscular body type (though Major Man is certainly beefier), the same voice actor! And yet, they couldn’t be any more different. Johnny, as much of a dense womanizer as he is, does have a hidden heart of gold beneath it all and usually means well; meanwhile, Major Man is a self-serving jerk who wants to play superhero. You know, he kind of reminds me of Homelander from The Boys in some ways. Anyway, I think a 6/10 is fair enough for him; he’d get higher if he wasn’t such an interesting concept for a major villain relegated only to a one-shot appearance. He’d have been a better entry in the rogues gallery than freaking Sedusa, for instance.

Abracadaver

So I wanna know how exactly this one got by the censors. This guy is unrelentingly dark, from his origin (he died onstage in front of a crowd which included children) to his absolutely ghastly appearance in which it is very much clear he is decaying and rotten. I honestly kind of love him, despite the fact he only ever appeared once, mostly because I can totally understand why they never used him again. This dude might actually be too scary. I’m giving him a solid 8/10, because I just love how unrelentingly dark he is. It’s definitely a low 8 since he never appeared after his initial appearance (for good reason!), but damn if he isn’t effective and memorable.

Lenny Baxter

Lenny is actually kind of impressive. On the surface, he’s just a gross, exaggerated take on Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons and loony dudebro manchild fans, which is all well and good, he’s pretty effective at being a “take that” and has stood the test of time pretty well/. But, I think what truly makes him memorable is the fact that he actually did manage to capture the Girls and would have won if not for the meddling townsfolk. Then of course there’s the Professor’s wonderfully tranquil takedown of Lenny’s ideology:

"Let me tell you something, Lenny. You may have all of the toys, all of the merchandise, all of the so-called “collector’s value.” But one thing you don’t have, Lenny, is true fandom. For a true fan wouldn't want to selfishly keep the girls to himself. A true fan would want them to be free."

I think that for a disposable one-shot villain, Lenny is surprisingly relevant even today. I think he deserves a 7/10, though obviously he’s not a very high one because ultimately he is just still a normal (albeit very greasy) guy.

Roach Coach

Look, not all villains are created equal. This guy? He’s not too impressive. Sure, he predicted the ending to Team America, and sure, he made a Papa Roach reference, but frankly I don’t think that’s enough to really elevate him into being an impressive one-shot villain. I’d say he’s a 4/10. He’s not lower because he is the starter villain, and his voice actor would go on to bring us the much better and more memorable Mojo Jojo. We all have to start somewhere, right?

The Robbing Leech

This guy is probably one of the freakiest one-shot villains in the series. Unlike Abracadaver, there’s literally nothing explained about this guy. There’s no origin, no explanation, he doesn’t even talk, and hell, the guy might not even be human at all! We the audience are never clued in, and the guy is never seen again, so we’re only left to ponder what exactly this guy is up to. I don’t think he’s quite as disturbing as Abracadaver, but he’s certainly got something going for him in terms of mystery; a 5/10 is fair enough. It would have been neat if they explained something, but I guess he’ll just have to be one of those riddles for the ages. We will never truly know how and why this man was capable of giving people the succ.

And just when you thought it would end...

Salami Swami

Ok, did you honestly think I was going to miss the opportunity to talk about this guy? His name is SALAMI SWAMI. And look at him! He controls MEAT! He only ever appeared once in the episode “Slave the Day,” where his mighty meat powers are no match for the appetites of the reformed Big Billy (formerly of the Gangreen Gang). But like… LOOK AT HIM. The idea and concept and literally everything about him is just so patently absurd and creative that I’m legitimately angry I didn’t come up with it first. He never spoke a single word, but he still managed to find a way into my heart and mind. Can I legitimately rate this guy who had a single joke appearance in the show? Damn right I can! 6/10, baby! If he appeared more or defined his personality a bit better I’d rank him higher but, come on. SALAMI SWAMI. Sometimes all you need to be great is a really incredible, stupid gimmick. And Salami Swami has that in droves; hopefully we can meat him again someday, and he can reignite his beef with the girls while remaining inextricably linked with sausage. 

Ok, I’m done. Goodnight everybody!

[dio-theshitpost-brando]

Deception.

     They say “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.” So why, if believing you after one lie gets me shamed, should I believe you now? Better yet, why should your deception be blamed on me? That said, I still blame myself for believing you. 

     But that’s not my greatest fear when it comes to this. 

Apologies.

     Empty, probably, like they always have been. Only ever to trick me into becoming comfortable around you again. Why should I believe you now? Because one of the only surviving people I care deeply about believes you? Congratulations on deceiving her, I suppose.

     How did you even manage to convince her to trust you? It’s that silver tongue, isn’t it?

Footsteps.

     Footsteps jerk you from your thoughts. They aren’t terribly close, but definitely audible, especially with the heightened hearing. They aren’t hurried, but they are making no effort to be subtle. You hear shuffling and patting of palms on the floor. It’s one of the zombies, they tend to go for any living thing that manages to get in. From the sounds of it, it’s one of the remains from your last meal, and not one of the three you revived as protection.

     The footsteps cease close to the door, the shuffling corpse draws closer. You wait for a scream, for the hurried sound of feet running down the corridor. You don’t hear it, instead you get a-

Crunch.

     It’s a sickening sound, even now. You are a little less disgusted knowing that it was a zombie that was killed as opposed to a living person. However, that doesn’t calm you. If they were okay killing one monster, they’ll happily kill another, surely. You back away from the door ready to hear a-

Knocking?

     Gentle knocking at your door is the last thing you’d expect. You don’t respond. A few more gentle raps are delivered upon the door before a voice speaks up.

     “Listen I’ll knock one more time before I kick the fucking door in.”

     You cringe. It’s a shame, you think, that such a pretty and polite girl ended up with the wrong man and has the most inappropriate language and behavior now. She knocks on the door again, just as gently as before.

     “Come in…” You manage to mumble out, to which she opens the door and makes her way in. Before she closes it behind her you get a glimpse of the hammer she used to kill your leftovers. You wonder how she manages to lift it.

     “You should probably kill them yourself, you know.” She walks over the nearest seat, plops down, and props her legs up on the coffee table. You don’t respond to her suggestion, but frown a bit about how she’s sitting. Thankfully she probably can’t see your expression in the dark.

     “So why are you here?”

     “Am I not allowed to visit?” She shakes her head. Before you get a chance to reply she continues, “last visit was cut short because someone got cold feet at the door. I wanted to actually talk and get his bag back, he’s been whining about the damn thing.”

     “Oh. It’s uh. Here.” You rummage around in one of the cupboards and pull it out, walking it over and handing it to her. “That should be it, right?”

     “That’s it. Thanks.” She takes the bag and sits it on the floor next to her. While she does this you go light a few candles so it’s not so dark in the room. “You know, leaving half devoured zombies around is all well and good if it’s in here but you really shouldn’t be leaving that shit on the streets. It’s usually only a few at most, but those things can kill others and infect them. You have to be more careful.”

     “Sorry. I don’t actually remember when I do that stuff.” She raises an eyebrow at that, so you decide to clarify. “Uh yeah I. I think I black out when I get super hungry.”

     “So just eat before you get that hungry.”

     “No.”

     She looks at you dumbfounded. “N-no? So you’re just. Going to refuse to eat?” 

     “I have to eat peo-”

     “Yeah people. Big deal. Just eat some crooks and be done with it. Eat someone deplorable that no one will miss.”

     “Like Dio…”

     “No! I’d miss him... unfortunately.”

     There’s an awkward pause. You aren’t sure if she thinks it was a joke or serious. You aren’t even sure if either of you were being serious with those statements. You tense up a little bit thinking about if she actually cares about him or not. Some petty part of you hopes she doesn’t.

     “I think we have to address the elephant in the room here.”

     “I already brought up your disordered eating.”

     “What? No not that.”

    “Then I think we’re seeing different elephants here, JoJo.”

    You hesitate. You regret even vaguely referencing it. You want to just brush it under the rug and just move on without a word but you can tell that at this point she won’t let you do that. She might already know what you’re going to say. You realize you’ve been standing this whole time and decide it’s probably better to sit down if you’re going to continue having a conversation.

    “It’s just. Dio, you know? Given what he did when we were children, I'm surprised that you’re, you know, together.”

Jealousy?

Worry?

    It’s a mix of both really. You’re jealous that he gets to be with your childhood crush. Or would childhood girlfriend be a more accurate term? You aren’t entirely sure. But you are deeply worried that, since he was the one that ruined your relationship by disrespecting her back then, that he’s not great to her now. You think the worrying is greater than the jealousy. The fact she doesn’t have a ring, but they have a child, the fact Dio’s not opposed to using people for his own gain...

    “I’m not in a relationship with him. We just live together.”

    “Oh.” You are jerked back to reality by her answer, and actually thrown off guard by it.  “But what about the baby?”

    “Didn’t I say before? He’s not mine. And it’s frankly kind of hilarious that you really think I’d fuck Dio.” You cringe at her language, and she laughs but stops suddenly and looks at you with a shocked expression. “Wait you. Don’t know?”

    “Know what?”

    “Uh- w- George was found in a cabbage.” Is she serious? Well, you know that’s not true, you are pretty sure babies aren’t found in cabbages but. Does she seriously think you’re going to believe that? Does she take you for some kind of moron? A fool?

    “Erina…” She looks a bit panicked like she said something she shouldn’t have. You really doubt she’s telling the truth about both the relationship and George. You wave it off. “Okay, if you’re going to say silly stuff about it I guess I’ll ask about something else. Like about why you’re living with him anyway. He’s done some. Pretty bad stuff.”

    “Yeah he’s a bitch and I really can’t think of that kiss without wanting to wring his neck, to be honest. But he seems to actually be trying to cut that kind of shit out. Also, about the shit he pulled on you, he told me the most important stuff… and I’m sorry that all happened.” 

    “It’s not like it’s your fault or anything, you don’t have to be sorry.”

    “It’s just that. Well. I feel a little bad for letting him ruin our relationship so long ago. And sorry about the fact that I don’t actually want to be in a relationship with you anymore.”

    You force out a chuckle. “Yeah. I mean I’m. Well. A man eating monster, it’s to be exp-”

    “Shut the fuck up.”

    You stop. You get the feeling you really messed up saying that. Maybe she took it as you trying to guilt her. But, before your brain gets to continue contemplating it you realize she’s got her hand on your shoulder, giving it a pat.

    “Sorry to shut you down like that but listen. I don’t give a rat’s ass about you being a vampire or anything. You’re the same man. And before you start the whole ‘I kill people’ shit, your brother did that and he’s never even been a vampire, so he didn’t have to kill to survive. Besides, didn’t I say earlier that eating people isn’t a big deal if you eat the right people- or maybe I should say the wrong people, huh?” She smiles, and pats your shoulder again. “Don’t be more of a baby than George. Do you really need me to hand feed you a criminal’s internal organs?”

    “What!?” You can’t help but smile slightly, and brush her hand away. “Stop! You don’t need to joke about killing someone just so I eat.”

    “You are severely mistaken if you think I’m not emotionally prepared to commit murder for you.”

    Oh. Oh she’s serious.

    “Oh! N-no! You don’t have to do that what if someone finds out and you get arre-”

    “You’ll have to eat the evidence then.” She says this with a smile and a wink. You want to say you wouldn’t. That there’s no way you would eat anyone willingly but. You couldn’t actually let her go to prison for murder. That and there’s something, almost threatening about that smile. She is definitely saying she’d do things in your favour, but the fact she’s so casual about this… 

    “Uh. Haha… when did you get so ready to kill people, anyway?”

    “Oh let’s see. Approximately the same time someone I loathed with my very being knocked on my door asking for a place to stay for a few weeks. I can tell you, all it would have taken was him disrespecting me once and you’d have absolutely no family left.”

    Well! That certainly makes you a little less worried about her well being!

    “Wow. Were you actually prepared to kill him? Or are you just exaggerating?”

    “I’m not sure. I think it would have depended on the situation. But I would have beat the everloving shit out of him without thinking twice about it. Then here I am a year later and unreasonably attached to the jackass.”

    “Oh, it’s been a year already?”

    “Yeah, just about, I think. The first month or so was the roughest part. But, once he proved to be a major dumbass by fucking up big time I stopped being concerned for myself and more for him.”

    “Wow. Worried for him instead? Just what was it, if it was that bad of a mistake?”

    “Well he got drunk and uh. Wandered off with a fairy and that’s when he made a supernatural contract to care for a cabbage baby.”

    “Erina... I genuinely can’t tell if this is just a joke to mess with me or some kind of bizarre metaphor for something. You really don’t have to hide that you slept with him, it’s okay, I’m not mad about it.” You are a little upset about it, but you won’t burden her with your jealousy.

    Funny how one sentence can have you become, in all ways but physically, a maraca. Luckily for you, your head is attached quite strongly to your body, else it’d have flown off by now, likely crashing into the nearest wall. You think you hear heavy footsteps approaching the room, but you can’t be sure since the both of you are screaming; her in rage, you in panic.

    “Boss, is everything okay?”

    She stops and looks at the zombie now poking his head through the door. Er. Poking in his head and the heads of several snakes.

    “He’s harassing me. He’s plotting to tell lies about me to the world. That’s no way to treat a lady, don’t you think?”

    “No… ma’am…?” The way he says ma’am is... off. If he didn’t have a bag on his head and you could read his face maybe you would understand better, but well. “Would you like me to handle this, boss?”

    “Uhh. No? It’s fine, really. If you’re worried about the corpse out in the hall it’s fine. She was just cleaning up something I’d have gotten anyway.”

    “Boss… You aren’t falling for that, right?” Falling for what? You give him a puzzled look. “Blond hair that’s a bit longer than yours, thinner, a bit shorter than you. Isn’t that the guy you were talking about, just in a dress?”

    “Oh my fucking god! You can tell everyone in this hellhole has a dead brain! First you think I fucked Dio, then your zombie housemate thinks I am Dio! For fuck’s sake!”

    You barely suppress your laughter. You aren’t sure what’s funnier, the fact Doobie really thought Erina was Dio or the fact she’s managed to do some kind of acrobatic dive right off the handle. Though it hits you that she is about Dio’s height, and while her complexion and hair colour is a bit lighter, it’s not like Doobie knows that. Hell, do his eyes even see colour right? He is a walking corpse after all, who knows how well those eyes work. 

    She stops a moment, still looking like she’s boiling over with rage. Doobie backs out and closes the door. The heavy footsteps slowly walk away. When he gets far enough she turns back to you, voice quiet, “I’m actually more pissed that, the more I think about it, the more him thinking that makes sense.”

    “I mean I guess you look a little similar but-”

    “More than just a little. I’ve gotten away with pretending to be him quite a few times.”

    “What!? Then why were you mad about it just now?”

    “Because I’m not actively trying to pass as him currently! I haven’t needed to do that for a few months… back when he was uh. Sick.”

    “Why not just tell people he was sick?”

    “Okay, honestly if you want the serious actual answers for that question you are going to have to ask him about it. Also if you want non-bullshit answers to some of your other questions. But I find it crazy I might know more about Dio than you do despite only living with him for a fraction of the time you did.”

    Oh? You wonder what you don’t know about Dio. “Like, uh? He mentioned something when you were here with him last. That hurts vampires? I don’t know about that other than that it apparently exists.”

    “I probably do know more about hamon than you. It burns the undead so it really is wise to be careful around it. He’s used it on some zombies that you’ve left around and all that was left was dust.” If you weren’t undead you’d probably feel your temperature drop and start sweating. “But it’s not just that that you don’t know about, though. You evidently uh. Weren’t the best at noticing things.”

    “If I was good at noticing things he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to use the mask on me.”

    “Well at least you’re honest about it. But there is a good bit of stuff you don’t know, be it things you somehow never caught on to or recent developments. I can not wait until you get The Talk.”

    “The talk?” That’s unnecessarily eerie. What talk? About what? “What’s that about?”

    “I can’t tell you. Well, I could. But I want you to listen to his crazy sounding shit yourself. I want you to be as baffled and skeptical as I was when this madman came to my door spouting this shit. I’d say it’s nonsensical but it’s all true, actually.” She yawns and stretches. Only then do you remember that yeah, humans sleep at night. You’ve been alone for long enough that you kinda forgot that.

    “God, right. It’s late for you.” Early for you, though. “Do you need me to escort you home?”

    “Considering I left while it was still day, that may take the rest of the night to get back. I could stay here for the night.”

    “Oh, no no. I’m sure there’s more half eaten zombies around and I haven’t cleaned the place up as well as I should. Chances are you’d end up sleeping somewhere covered in dust, then. I could take you home. It’d probably be nice to sleep somewhere less… spooky, I guess? Even if I’m still apprehensive about being around Dio.”

    “You haven’t cleaned up? You probably should do that, at some point, it might help you feel better. But I guess we should head out soon, then. When we get home though, we have to enter as quietly as possible and stack all the moose toys I’ve bought and hidden in the house on Dio’s unconscious body.”

    “The what!?” Oh god you almost forgot! The Moose! Oh this is stellar news. “Okay, I have to tell Doobie, Tarkus, and Blueford where I’m going and then we can head out.”  You get up, and she follows. She also grabs the candle holder. 

    “Maybe while we walk back you can grab something to eat, too.”

    “Do you really want to watch me tear people up, or something? I’m still a messy eater, you know.” You smile awkwardly and open the door to leave and Erina passes you, and grabs her hammer. She grimaces at the remnants of zombie head material and picks it up carrying it hanging low. You guess it’s so she doesn’t dirty her dress. 

    As you walk down the hall to tell your guards where you’ll be going, you wonder about how things will go with Dio. Will he prove to be as terrible as always? Or has he really gotten better? At the very least you hope that he’s still upset by moose and that whether it be due to his son or due to Erina he won’t try to fight with you while you are there. And you’re thankful that, even if her new… quirks will take getting used to, that Erina is seemingly well.

[how-bout-a-crooked-politician]

Surprise!

Elmer x Reader

Requested by anonymous

Summary: It’s your birthday, and you’ve been looking forward to spending it with your boyfriend Elmer. Which is difficult, as he seems to be avoiding you at all costs.

——

It was a beautiful day in New York on the day of your birthday, which most would take as a good sign. But that didn’t seem to be the case for you. You had made sure to get up early and sell your papes quicker then usual all so you could have extra time to spend with your boyfriend on your special day. At least that was the plan, except that you hadn’t seen Elmer all day. Elmer was almost always by your side as much as possible, so this was very out of the ordinary.

At the beginning of the day, there didn’t seem to be anything fishy going on. When you woke up early that morning, Elmer was already dressed to go out and sell. Elmer was usually the last one out of bed, but you didn’t think much of it. As soon as he saw you were up instead of waiting for the other boys, he ran out the door with a quick ‘goodbye’ and a kiss on the cheek.

You didn’t see Elmer at the distribution gates either, so you asked Weasel if he had come by. He (rather rudely) informed you that he had, but he only bought thirty papers. Way less then his normal hundred. You were of course a bit concerned about him, so you decided to ask Jack if he knew anything.

Jack was standing near one of the wagons huddled in a group talking with Davey and Crutchie. “Mornin’ Jack!” You called. Jack jumped and turned quickly to face you. “Mornin’ Y/N!” He said this rather loudly and glanced back towards Davey and Crutchie, who were giving you strange looks. “How’s it goin’? Happy Birthday!” You looked at him, then at Davey, then Crutchie, then back at Jack again. “Thanks.” You said. “You seen Elmer anywhere? I ain’t seen him hardly all morning.” Jack shook his head. “Nope, no sign of him. Right boys?”

Davey and Crutchie both nodded consecutively and agreed with Jack’s statement. “Don’t worry about it kid, he’s probably just trying to get a head start on selling today. Nothin’ wrong with that.” You nodded and crossed your arms. Maybe Jack was right, maybe you were reading too much into this. “Thanks Jack. Still, let me know if you see him alright?” Jack nodded and went back to Davey and Crutchie. “Yeah, yeah. Just get out there and sell your papes before you waste away, birthday kid.” You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Just because I’m getting older doesn’t mean I’m wasting away any time soon!” But Jack was already back to whispering to Davey and Crutchie. They looked like gossiping schoolgirls, very out of character for them. But you had papers to sell, so you brushed it off and hit the streets to start selling for the day.

At lunch you decided to go visit Elmer at his usual selling spot, only to find Racetrack on his corner instead. “Hey, Racer!” Race turned to look at you and almost dropped the cigar from his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him as you approached. “What, you that surprised to see me?” You said. Race quickly regained himself and put back on that cocky demeanor of his, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you at Elmer’s spot more then I’ve seen you at your own.” He said as he continued to hark the headline. You stepped out of his way so he had a clear view of the street. “Speaking of Elmer, you seen him anywhere? I’ve been trying to track him down all day.” Race barely glanced over at you to answer. “You check the church?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. “The only reason Elmer would step foot in the church is to get out of the rain.” You said.

Race seemed to go pale for a split second and turned to face you, as if he had said the wrong thing. “Oh, right.” He said. “Well, you check his selling spot?” You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. “Race, you’re in his selling spot.” You said. Now you were fairly certain something was up. “What the hell’s going on?” Race quickly shook his head. “Nothing! Nothing at all is going on, what makes you think something’s going on?” You huffed and turned to walk away. “You boys acting like I’ve lost my mind, that’s what!” As you stomped away you only heard Race call your name once, then went back to selling as if everything was normal.

Even after you were done selling your suspicions followed you when Albert refused to let you in the Lodging House. “Albert, I live here!” You argued. “What possible reason could be keeping me away from the place I pay to sleep at?” Albert shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m telling you, the sink flooded. No one’s allowed inside.” You put your hands on your hips and glared at the boy. “I can hear the rest of the boys inside!” You said. Albert shook his head. “Those are the plumbers!” At that moment, JoJo opened the door behind Albert and stuck his head out. “Hey Albo, where’d you leave my-“ He cut himself off when he caught sight of you. “Oh.”

At this point, you’d had enough of your friends’ nonsense. “That’s it! Let me inside right now, Albert.” You marched up to the door and tried to push your way past him, but JoJo’s words stopped you. “Elmer’s over at the theater waiting for you!” He said. You stopped. “What? Why? At Medda’s Theater?” Albert looked back at JoJo with a glare. “Good job, knucklehead.” He said. “Hey, they were going to figure it out sooner or later!” JoJo countered. You stoppped their arguing before it could go any further. “Figure what out?” You asked.

Albert sighed motioned in the direction of Medda’s theater. “Just go, you’ll see what we mean. Just don’t tell Elmer we told you!” You stepped back and quickly began walking to the theater. Finally, you were going to spend time with your boyfriend on your birthday just like you wanted! After asking him what the hell was going on, of course. You thanked Albert and JoJo again before taking off down the street.

You came into the theater through the backstage, and a show seemed to be starting soon. Still, you didn’t see any sign of Elmer. Luckily you were able to catch Medda before she went on stage. “Miss Medda!” You whispered, tapping her on the shoulder. She turned around and her face lit up when she saw you. “Y/N!” She exclaimed. “You know Elmer’s been looking forward to seeing you all day! He’s such a sweet boy, you’re lucky to have him.” You’re cheeks turned a nice shade of pink, but you quickly got back on your feet. “Where is Elmer, Miss Medda?” You asked.

Medda pointed to the balcony in her audience. “Box Number Three.” She said. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “But that’s a private box, how did he-“ “Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Have fun, alright!” Then Medda went on stage to begin her act.

You went to the balcony to the third viewing box. You weren’t sure what to expect now. You tried the door, but it was locked. You gave a soft knock so you wouldn’t interrupt the show. “I know, I’m late! I’m going to pick them up now, don’t give away my box please!” Elmer’s voice from inside sounded almost panicked. “Elmer? It’s me, can I come in?” There was a pause from inside. Then finally the door opened.

In the doorway was your boyfriend, Elmer. He had his hair combed and his face clean of dirt. He had a bandanna around his neck that he had tied into a bow tie, and the usual holes in his shirt had been sewn up. You were speechless. “Elmer-“ “I’m so sorry Y/N! I was going to pick you up but then I got nervous so I started running late, and then I ran into the Delanceys and they were giving me a hard time cause of-“

“Elmer-“

“Race told me about how upset you were earlier and I felt like such a jerk-“

“Elmer-“

“And then I realized I left all my notes in the Lodging House so I had to make sure Albert didn’t let you in to ruin the surprise-“

“Elmer-“

“I tried real hard to find an actual bow tie, but all I could find was one of Jack’s old bandannas-“

“Elmer, stop!” You said. Elmer quickly shut his mouth and his eyes widened. But he seemed more at ease when you grew a smile on your face. “You look absolutely dashing.” You said. “But what’s all this about?”

Elmer took your hand and led you inside the door. “It’s your birthday, duh!” He said. All the seats in the box were empty and you had a great view of the stage. The smile on your face grew even more. “Elmer, this is amazing!” You said, turning back to him. “How did you afford this?” He shrugged and took your hands in his. “Jack pulled some strings.” He answered. “Now come on, we’re missing the show!”

Elmer led you to the front seats of the box and the two of you watched Medda sing one of your favorite songs of hers. You wondered if this was also the work of Elmer, or just a coincidence. You looked down at you and Elmer’s intertwined hands. “You know, for a minute there I thought...” He quickly looked over at you. “You thought what?” He asked, worried. You sighed. “I don’t know, that you didn’t like me anymore or something.” Elmer’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No! No, I didn’t mean to make ya think that!” He said. “I was just trying to make everything perfect for your birthday!” You smiled and pecked him on the lips. “And it is!” You said. “To be fair though, the other boys were acting real strange.” Elmer huffed and shrugged. “Yeah, maybe I should have picked a better party planning comitee.”

After another song went by, Elmer jumped up in his seat. “Oh! I almost forgot your present!” Elmer stood up and began looking behind his seat for your gift. “Elmer, you didn’t need to get me anything.” You said. Elmer scoffed. “Of course I did! It’s your birthday isn’t it? Now close your eyes.” You giggled at how cliche this must be and put your hands over your eyes. You felt Elmer set something in your lap. “Okay, now open them.”

You opened your eyes and in your lap sat a canvas with a painting of you and Elmer holding hands on the street corner where you met. You gasped. “Elmer, did you paint this?” You asked, picking up the picture to look more closely at it. Elmer began fidgeting with his hands and looked at the ground. “Do you like it?” He asked. “Jack helped me out with it. I know I ain’t as good as him yet, but I did my best.”

He looked back up at you and saw the wide smile on your face. “Elmer, it’s absolutely beautiful!” You set the painting down and wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you so much.” Elmer hugged you back, only pulling away to plant a kiss on your lips. “I’m happy you liked it, because if you didn’t I was just going to say that Jack actually painted it.” You laughed and shook your head, pulling him in for another kiss. “You’re such a dork.” You laughed. “I love it, Elmer. You’ve made this the best birthday ever.”

And you meant it. As the two of you finished watching the show tangled in each other’s arms, you couldn’t think of a better way to spend your birthday. And when the show was over and Elmer found you fast asleep, he knew that. As he carried you back to the Lodging House in his arms and laid you back in your bed, he didn’t care about the mishaps of the day anymore. He only seemed to remember the part of the day that he spent with you.

[crystalelemental]

Can you explain to us non-FF players what was so awful about Fates?

FE.  Very different trainwrecks.

And...probably?  I had a TON of posts about the problems in the game, but I can try to do an abridged version here.  Or at least, I’ll make an attempt.

Starting with the obvious, they took one game and split it into three, then charged us for three separate games.  It was complete horseshit from second 1.

Face-rubbing minigame.  You know Pokemon Amie?  Imagine doing that with humans.  That’s the waifu simulator they put in this game.

The creators of the game went on record early on saying that, yeah, Awakening saved the entire franchise from death with its simple but impactful storyline, but it was kinda too simple so we’re gonna make it better.  They then proceeded to make the shittiest plot I’ve ever been involved with, filled with nothing but contrivances to make anything make sense.

Characters sucked.  There are like 5 good ones, and at least three are debatable depending on who you ask.  The problem with infinite supports is that no character ever changes, so whenever one character would support, say, Oboro (the worst example of this), they’d reach A rank and she’d move on from her blatant racism, only to be right back to racist central for the next character’s C-support.  As such, no one ever grew as a character, and no one was particularly compelling, especially because both sides in the war were idiots.

Speaking of idiots, the reason for the war?  Invisible soldiers from an ancient dragon god attacked people on both sides of the border.  Rather than investigate, they both immediately accused the other and went to war.  The reason no one pointed out the soldiers or dragon god?  If you talked about them, you’d be magically transported to the dragon god’s kingdom and mind controlled into working for him!  Yeah, pure contrivance, because otherwise your entire plot would be resolved in literally two seconds as someone mentioned what was going on.

THE BABY REALM.  So, in Awakening, you could get married and have kids.  They wanted to do that mechanic again.  But Awakening had time travel, so it made sense.  Here?  Instead, they had a baby, and you throw them into an inter-dimensional rift, where they will immediately be spit out at combat-ready age.  I think like two of the kids briefly mention being sad their parents weren’t around.  Otherwise, somehow no abandonment issues at all.  Leo is a fucking asshole, though.  Forrest deserved better.

Speaking of the kids, fuck the kids.  Again, there’s like 5 that were good, and at least 3 are debateable.  But I think we can all agree that Kanna is a horrible little gremlin we should’ve kept locked away in another dimension.  FUCK YOU, YOU’LL NEVER BE MORGAN

On the topic of shipping, the main ship?  Corrin and Azura?  Yeah, you’re cousins.  So after all the debate about the main families being incest, but they totally aren’t because you’re adopted and not related to either of them, the main couple of the game that I think the game itself actively pushes, is incestuous.  Fucking great job, team.

I could bitch about the difference in female costume design between this game and the rest of the series all goddamned day so let’s just say “Camilla is just there for fanservice” and call it a day.

The final boss is literally the stone mask from JoJo and yet the game is somehow still lame.

Speaking of the final boss.  That dragon god?  We never learn his motivation.  Or rather, we do, but only in the DLC.  So after paying over $80 for this shit game they sold to you three times?  You have to pay even more to get the DLC that fucking explains anything.

Weapons came with penalties now.  So strong weapons had severe drawbacks that made them less useful, and instead forging was the way to go.  How do you forge?  By buying like 50 copies of the same weapon, and farming endlessly for arbitrary resources through other players’ My Castles (I’ll bitch about that in a minute), then spending a shitload of gold in the forge to give it slightly better stats.  Hope you like farming!

Christ, the My Castle thing...  You know what Fire Emblem really needed?  Instead of steady progression through a story, it needed to grind to a fucking halt as you farmed out all your arbitrary resources that are now required, and get all your skills through this method alone.  Most of your game won’t even be the main story, it’ll be My Castle, the fucking shitshow nightmare they added into this series for no goddamned reason.

“We finally put in gay characters!” the series said, giving you version exclusive options of (1) the reincarnation of a stalker who abused her daughter mentally and physically, or (2) a gay man whose only defined personality traits are “sadistic” and “makes a lot of uncomfortable sex jokes.”  Fucking top-tier representation.  Shame you didn’t pick sensible options, like...I dunno, Soleil?  The obvious bi girl?  But no, Tharja 2.0, that’s fine.

But on top of that?  On top of all that?  Pick your poison from the following:

The english translation was so unbelievably bad, that most characters spoke in decades-old memes, and entire support conversations were outright removed for funny ninja moments like no spoken dialogue because ninjas don’t talk.  But at least they removed the incredibly creepy face-rubbing minigame that you just know someone was jerking it to.

OR you keep the Japanese version, where one support conversation is literally your main character drugging a girl who thinks other girls are cute, without her consent, to make her see men as other women and vice versa, basically so you can fuck and marry her, in what’s basically a point-for-point re-enactment of conversion therapy.  And that’s just one of the incredibly horrific things the Japanese version had in it.  There was an entire SITE listing the problems people had with how it portrayed things.

And that’s just what I remember off the top of my head.  I know for a fact there’s more.  But imagine going from “Oh man, a new entry into this, my favorite series” to getting all of this information, bit by bit, over months, and trying to convince yourself that it’ll be okay and you should still get it.  Then you get it, and it’s somehow WORSE.  That’s what the experience of Fates was like.  Constant horror and disappointment, followed by an attempt to compromise that backfired spectacularly and resulted in, bar none, the worst game I’ve ever played, with absolutely nothing gained.  I am a lesser person for having played Fates.

[ostrich-on-a-rampage-blog]

can you do 147 from the prompts ask thingy pls!? (for jackcrutchie because they the best lol)

Once again, we find ourselves with a far too long, 6,000+ word fic. I highly recommend listening to Sara Bareilles’ “Manhattan” for the final section, which you’ll recognize by the tense shift. Anyway, it’s been fun to write, and I hope it’s fun to read.

TW: blood, violence (there’s some fighting between the Delanceys and newsboys)

147: “I can take care of myself just fine.”

Rolling, booming thunder practically shook the walls of the newsboy’s Lodging House. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the newsies curled into bed in various positions. Race had fallen asleep, both his legs dangling over the edge of the top bunk. Romeo was curled up, his face pressed into Race’s hip. Specs was spread out, taking up nearly the entire bunk, with Jojo curled into a tight ball at the edge. Mush had an arm slung over Blink, as the latter boy shifted in his sleep, pulling himself closer to the other.

Jack gripped at his pencil with its rubbed-raw eraser, trying to focus on the old newspaper on his lap. He carefully added another line to his sketch, checking the shading, before starting on the next part of his drawing. Carefully round out the chin, make sure the neck isn’t too long, check the curls that bounced down the forehead. The eyes sparkled with a joke. Jack grinned wryly, pleased that the sketch was actually turning out to look like–

A forked lightning bolt split across the darkened Manhattan sky, followed immediately by shaking thunder. Jack’s hand jerked, the lead slashing across his friend’s face. In frustration, he shoved the drawing away, stuffing the pencil behind his ear. He hugged his arms around himself, glaring at the night sky. Jack hated thunderstorms. He didn’t mind the way thunder growled across the sky, or how lightning would shine, bright-white, even in the darkest alley. But, he absolutely loathed the unpredictability of it. Jack could never tell when the lightning would strike, when the thunder would roar. And, each time it managed to startle him, no matter how much he steeled himself for the flash and noise that were sure to come.

The newsboys continued to snore, shifting ever so slightly. Jack watched them with envy. He used to try to sleep through thunderstorms, but the constant noise and flashing lights kept him awake. Jack sighed, before jumping down from his top bunk. Even the slight thud of his feet on the cold, wooden ground did not awake the sleeping newsies. Not that Jack expected it to. If those boys could sleep through ear-cracking thunder, then a small thump wouldn’t interrupt their dreams. He silently padded out of the room, making his way out into the main room. If he couldn’t sleep, Jack figured that he might as well do something productive.

Jack grabbed one of the old, ratty coats that hung on small hooks beside the door, slipping his arms into the sleeves. He had grown, Jack realized with dismay. The coat’s sleeves only extended three inches above his wrist. No matter, it would have to do. There just weren’t enough funds to go around to provide new coats for all the boys, and the nuns hadn’t been able to give them clothing lately. Jack pulled the door open, shutting it quietly behind him as he stepped out onto the small porch of the Lodging House.

Rain pounded down, nearly thick enough to obscure Jack’s view from the end of the street. If he were smart, he’d just turn back into the Lodging House and curl up into his blanket and pretend to sleep until the bell rang. But, a storm such as this would be the perfect cover for Jack. No one in their right mind would be out in this weather.

Ducking his head, Jack started forward. He stuck to the edge of the street, trying to gain at least some cover from the buildings he crept beside. They offered no shelter. Within the first few minutes, he was soaked through, but Jack kept plodding forward. He was nearing the small marketplace, where he could manage to get enough food for his boys. Only a few blocks more.

Once Jack reached the group of stores, he checked his surroundings for any unwanted witnesses. None. He quickly picked the lock for the bakery, and let himself into the empty store. Jack only took a moment to grab a couple day-old loaves of bread, stuffing them into his jacket, where he could protect them from the worst of the rain. Once he was sure the bread wouldn’t be soaked through by the time he got back to the Lodging House, he set off, back home.

Jack had only managed to get about ten feet away from the bakery, when he heard what sounded like muffled crying. Curious, Jack peered into the nearest alley. Nothing immediately caught his attention, so he crept forward, peering around a small stack of boxes that seemed to help block out the worst of the storm.

A small boy was curled into a small edge of space between the wall and the boxes. He jerked backwards at the sight of Jack, wedging his way even tighter into the small gap between the wall and the boxes. “Hey, hey,” Jack soothed, squatting down to be at eye level with the young boy. “Are you okay? I ain’t gonna hurt you, or nothing.”

“I’m fine,” the boy said, his gaze jumping everywhere, but avoiding Jack’s eyes.

Jack studied the gaunt skin that stretched over jutting cheekbones, dull eyes sunken with dark circles shadowing them, thin lips that trembled as he spoke, cheeks red and wet–from rain or tears, Jack couldn’t tell. “Do you have a place to stay? This storm ain’t doing you no good,” Jack told him.

“I got a place,” the boy protested. “I just…” he trailed off, undoubtedly thinking of a suitable lie. “I just like the rain, is all.”

“You’se shivering like a drownded rat,” Jack pointed out dryly.

The boy shrugged. “It ain’t that bad. I’se been in worse.”

Jack reached out a hand, frowning when the boy flinched at the movement. “Sorry,” he apologized. “But, let me help you back to the Lodging House. You could stay there. It ain’t much, but it’s better than an alley. Plus, I’se got some food, too.”

With a frown, the boy shoved Jack’s hand away. “I can take care of myself,” he told Jack. “I ain’t no charity case.”

“No, no,” Jack said, quickly thinking of a way to get this stubborn, prideful boy to accept his help. There was something about him, something about his shaggy blonde hair, something about his brown eyes that struck Jack as important. Familiar, almost. And Jack wasn’t just going to leave him out in the storm, not when he looked only a step away from death. “No, it’s not charity. Think of it as…” Jack paused, before grinning. “An investment!”

“An investment?” the boy asked, suspicion clear in his voice.

“Yeah! How old are ya, kid?”

The boy hesitated, before answering. “Ten.”

Jack wasn’t sure if the hesitation stemmed from his obvious distrust toward Jack, or if the boy wasn’t sure of his own age. Each option dismayed Jack beyond what he would ever admit. “Great!” he said, instead. “I’m practically thirteen, but the younger you are, the better you are at selling papes.”

“Papes?”

“Uh-huh. I’m a newsboy,” Jack told him proudly. “But, I keep getting older. So, since you’re still just a kid, you’d make a good selling partner.”

“I ain’t a kid,” the boy shot back quickly.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Sure you ain’t. Anyway, let’s get you home, okay?” Jack asked, extending his hand once more.

The boy stared at Jack’s hand for a minute, before gripping it. Jack helped him to his feet. The boy stood, before bending down and scooping up a crutch that Jack hadn’t noticed earlier. He stuck it under his armpit before turning back to Jack, his eyes daring him to make a rude comment. Jack only watched the determination flush across the boy’s face, transfixed by the way even the boy’s freckles seemed to bristle with indignation. “Look, if you got something to say, then say it,” the boy challenged, his fingers tightening around the crutch.

“I just got one question.”

“Shoot,” the boy said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Just how many poor, unsuspecting bullies have you taken out before?”

The boy’s eyes widened as he processed Jack’s questions. “W-well,” he started. “I mean, they all had it coming. I’m not mean, you see.”

Jack grinned widely. “Yeah, I get it. I’ve had to take out a few of my own, y’know.” As they started back to the Lodging House, Jack slung his arm over the boy’s shoulders, careful to not throw him off balance. “I think we’se gonna be good friends, kid.”

“I ain’t a kid,” the boy protested.

“Yeah?” Jack asked. “Well, then what am I gonna call you?”

The boy thought for a moment, wiping excess rainwater from his brow. “I ain’t got a good name. And… And–”

“Choose whatever name you’d like. You’re able to completely start over, fresh,” Jack advised.

“How about Crutchie?” he offered.

“Well, Crutchie, let’s hurry and get out of the storm, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jack pulled the boy a little closer as they scurried along the side of buildings, trying to avoid the raging storm. And, he didn’t plan on ever letting go.

The Delancey brothers never quite managed to worm their way into Jack’s good graces. Sure, they had tried, back when he had first been chosen to be Manhattan’s leader, after Spoons stepped down to hop on a train and never return. The Delanceys had smiled greasy smiles, offered Jack their service as hired protection, reminding him just how many newsboy leaders had found their bloody demise at the wrong end of a knife. Jack had never truly liked the Delancey brothers, and refused to fall for their flowery praises. Especially when he knew just how often the brothers would pick on his boys.

It had only taken a firm “no” and a punch to the jaw to convince the Delanceys that Jack was not interested in their proposition. The Delanceys had glowered at Jack’s indignation, their eyebrows drawing together as the other newsboys had begun to cheer. Morris had mimed cutting Jack’s throat, but Jack had ignored them.

Only a couple days had passed since Jack had snubbed the Delancey brothers’ offer, but Oscar and Morris hadn’t dared attack Jack. He was confident that they would continue to scurry away from him, tails between their legs. Far too often, Jack had proved himself more than capable in a fight, even with both of the Delanceys railing on him. And, perhaps, it was this overconfidence that caused Jack’s downfall.

Jack blamed himself.

He should have been paying a bit more attention. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get distracted. There was no way the Delancey brothers, the oafs, should’ve gotten the drop on him. Jack didn’t see it coming and the first hard hit had him stumbling forward, catching himself against the wall of a store. Jack blinked back the pain, recognizing the harsh laughter of the Delanceys. “Guess the great Kelly ain’t that great after all,” Oscar said, chortling.

With a low growl, Jack pushed himself off the wall, whirling around to punch Oscar in his impudent face. Morris must have foreseen this coming because he grabbed Jack’s shoulders and used Jack’s own momentum against him, spinning him around and shoving him into the alley. Jack wasn’t able to counteract the force of the shove, and his back took the brunt of the impact. For a moment, Jack just lay there, winded. That brief moment gave Oscar enough time to land a rough kick against Jack’s ribs. Jack winced, but managed to grab Oscar’s leg, tripping the bully.

While Jack’s attention was focused on Oscar and his success in landing the Delancey brother to the ground, Morris took the opportunity to pick up some discarded plank of wood and swung it, hard, at Jack’s head. The force of the impact ripped the skin above Jack’s ear open. Jack cried out in pain, grabbing at the new wound, dismayed at the blood that spilled over his fingers, staining the beds of his nails. His vision swam and he couldn’t focus on Oscar enough to block the next attack. The punch had him reeling backwards, but Jack doggedly refused to give up.

He struggled to his feet, swiping at the blood that trickled down from his now-split lip, preparing to beat the Delanceys back, or go down kicking. The Delanceys watched him with undisguised amusement, no doubt recognizing that they now had the upper hand in the fight. Jack snarled at them, leaping forward.

Oscar easily batted the attack away, throwing Jack into the grimy brick of the alleyway wall. He grunted, bringing his fists up to try and block whatever attack the Delanceys would throw at him next. It didn’t go exactly as plan, Jack realized, as Morris easily dodged one of his hastily-thrown punches and jabbed him in the cheek. Jack ignored the sudden flare of pain and the growing worry that whispered that he wouldn’t be coming out of this fight on top.

Morris reached past Jack’s defense, grabbing the newsboy’s shoulders and shoving him back to the ground. This time, Jack couldn’t quite stop the fall, couldn’t roll to lessen the impact. His head slammed roughly into the cobblestone, and Jack frantically blinked back encroaching darkness. He had to get up; he had to finish the fight. The Delancey brothers were laughing and Jack wanted nothing more than to sock them both in the jaw.

Jack started to push himself up, his arms trembling with the effort. Oscar planted one boot firmly on Jack’s back, shoving him back to the ground effortlessly. “Not so strong now, Kelly?” Oscar taunted, twisting the sole of his shoe into Jack’s already-bruised back.

Before Jack could come up with a suitable retort, Oscar stumbled forward, grabbing at his stinging back. Jack glanced up, confused. Crutchie stood there, crutch held loosely so that he could swing it at the attackers. “Why don’t we make this fight a bit more fair?” he suggested. “Two on two?”

Morris’ face contorted with fury and he flung himself towards Crutchie, who easily sidestepped the barreling bully. As he moved out of the way, he pushed Morris into the ground. Before Morris could get back up, Crutchie whacked him in the head, putting him out of the fight, at least for a moment.

He turned to Oscar, who approached the younger boy, glaring. Crutchie managed to block the punch Oscar threw, stepping to the side to completely avoid the attack. This, however, put him in the path of Morris, who had recovered from his hit much quicker than Crutchie had intended. Morris’ fist collided with Crutchie’s nose, and the boy grunted as he stumbled backwards. Morris and Oscar continued to encroach on him, harsh smiles splitting their faces. Jack grabbed at Morris’ legs, trying to assist his best friend, but Morris simply kicked him in the head, stunning Jack into submission.

Before Morris or Oscar could recognize what Crutchie was doing, the younger boy shoved his crutch into Oscar’s stomach, causing the Delancey brother to stumble backwards in surprise and pain. Morris surged forward, but Crutchie tripped him and shoved him to the ground. Morris’ head connected loudly and the Delancey brother stilled, unconscious.

Oscar pushed himself to his feet and turned to the younger boy, stepping forward quickly. He grabbed Crutchie’s crutch when the boy tried to hit him with it. Oscar flung the rod of wood away, teasing, “What are you gonna do now, kid?”

Crutchie didn’t bother with a verbal reply. Oscar stumbled backwards, holding his bleeding nose gingerly. Morris stirred, pushing himself to his feet uneasily. The younger Delancey brother swayed until Oscar placed his arm around Morris’ shoulder. “Leave us alone,” Crutchie told them, glaring at the brothers until they started making their way out of the alley. His voice was nasally from his quite-possibly broken nose, but his glare held.

“You better watch your back!” Oscar threatened. “If we can get the jump on Kelly, we can certainly get the jump on some no-good–”

“Yeah, whatever, Oscar,” Crutchie muttered. He wiped some of the blood from his nose, before helping Jack to his feet. “You good?” he asked, eyes flicking to the bruise forming under Jack’s eye.

Jack grinned wryly. “Yeah, didn’t you know? I can take care of myself.” His eyes flicked to Crutchie’s still-bleeding nose, but he didn’t comment.

Crutchie rolled his eyes. “I’m so sure.” He pressed the collar of his shirt to his nose, only wincing slightly at the pressure.

“You know, I think we make a pretty good team,” Jack told Crutchie, carefully slinging his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders.

“Team?” Crutchie teased. “I did all the rescuing there.”

“And what’s a hero without a damsel in distress, eh?”

“You realize that makes you the damsel.”

“My hero,” Jack joked, laughing. He ignored the slight warmth that spread in his chest, chalking it up to the abating adrenaline. Jack pulled Crutchie closer, his grin growing even wider.

After months spent in the Refuge, Jack developed the caution of being an extremely light sleeper. The softest noise, the slightest cry, the smallest shift, each startled Jack awake. Generally, he would lay there, listening to his surroundings until he had pinpointed which newsboy had made the noise. Then, once the sound had been revealed to be something completely harmless–Mush snoring, Race muttering in his sleep, Romeo pulling himself closer to Specs–Jack would slip back into a dreamless slumber.

Jack startled awake, his fingers immediately spreading out to ascertain where he lay. Cold, hard, bits of gravel that stuck beneath his nails: the roof. Jack relaxed, letting out a low sigh as he closed his eyes once more. Countless times, he had awoken on the roof due to a myriad of sounds. Some bird in the distance, police sirens, a cat yowling in the dark of night. Each time, Jack would determine the noise to be harmless, roll over, and resume his sleep.

Tonight, the noise was soft. So soft, that when Jack awoke, he nearly convinced himself that he hadn’t heard anything. He knew he was on the roof–safe, in his penthouse–and that the noise had, undoubtedly, come from something far below him. Jack rolled over, pressing his cheek into the cool concrete of the roof. He had nearly drifted off, back to sleep, when he heard it again.

This time, Jack was aware enough to recognize the half-hidden noise. A small groan, then a sniff.

Jack rolled over, raising himself up partially so that he could catch a glimpse of his best friend, sprawled out on the opposite side of the roof. Crutchie was half-curled into the fetal position, one arm held over his head in an almost protective manner. His other arm cradled his chest tightly. The boy whimpered, pressing his right arm even tighter around his head.

“Crutch,” Jack hissed, trying to awaken the younger boy. He knew just how often Crutchie reacted violently to being awakened by even the softest touch, especially if the boy was in the throes of a nightmare. “Crutchie, wake up.”

The younger boy didn’t respond positively, only letting out a small cry.

“Crutchie,” Jack tried again, crossing the roof to his best friend. “Crutchie, it’s just a nightmare. Wake up, okay?” He watched as Crutchie shifted, his face tightening with pain or fear, Jack wasn’t sure which. Unable to just stand by and watch his friend’s pain, Jack gently gripped Crutchie’s shoulder, shaking him softly. “Crutchie, wake up. Wake up. It’s me, Jack. Crutchie,” he said, repeating the soft litany over and over again.

The only forewarning that Jack received was a sudden stiffening of Crutchie’s entire body, then the boy’s eyes flew open, wide and darting. Crutchie’s fist flew out, nailing Jack in the jaw, but Jack barely noticed the pain. “Crutchie, it’s me. It’s Jack,” he reassured, waiting for the younger boy to calm down.

Crutchie’s breath caught, but he seemed to be calming down. At least, he appeared to be less agitated. “J-Jack?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Jack responded, scooting closer to the younger boy. “Can I touch you?” he asked softly. Ever since Crutchie had been stuck in the Refuge, he had grown less hesitant to show physical affection. Especially, after nightmares. Jack had learned to fight off the long-ingrained instincts to pull the younger boy into a hug, and respect the fear and hesitance that Crutchie had developed in that hellish institution.

“Ye-yes, please,” Crutchie confirmed, nodding his head shakily.

Jack carefully pulled Crutchie closer to him, allowing the younger boy to lay his head against Jack’s chest. “You don’t need to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” Jack said, softly resting his chin on top of Crutchie’s head.

“Thank you,” Crutchie whispered, the words barely audible in the thick silence.

“I just want you to know that you’re safe. That I ever won’t let anyone hurt you ever again,” Jack promised.

“I thought I told ya, Jack. I can take care of myself,” Crutchie said, only the slightest tremble evident in his voice.

“I know, but let me help take care of you,” Jack said, gently placing a kiss against Crutchie’s forehead.

He froze.

Jack felt his heart constrict painfully. No. No, no, no. He wasn’t supposed to have ever done anything like this. Crutchie was never meant to know– If asked, Jack couldn’t pinpoint the exact time when his feelings for Crutchie started. Maybe it had been there all along. It was in the way that Crutchie’s grin would widen whenever Jack came into the room. It was in the way that Jack’s eyes sought out Crutchie first, whenever he came home. It was in the way that they balanced each other’s personalities: Crutchie grounding the dreamer, Jack lifting the realist. It was in the way that Jack could no longer imagine his life without Crutchie by his side.

And, now, Jack had gone and slipped up and revealed it all to Crutchie. His mind raced, struggling to come up with something to say that would return everything to normalcy. He could hear Crutchie’s breathing quicken and Jack immediately released the younger boy, no matter how much he ached to keep Crutchie close.

“I–I’m sorry,” Jack apologized, backing up. “I just… Heh, I guess I just wasn’t thinking,” Jack said, trying to laugh. It sounded forced. He knew that Crutchie would be able to detect the falsity in the laughter.

“You kissed me,” Crutchie said. The statement was cool, collected. Crutchie’s eyes betrayed no emotion, though Jack desperately searched them for even a slimmer of acceptance. “You just kissed me.”

Oh, god, oh, god, this wasn’t what Jack had ever wanted to happen. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve. I should never have–”

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Jack winced. “Look, Crutchie, I…” he trailed off, unsure of how to explain this, without ruining the one friendship he had learned to depend on. Which had been a foolish mistake, and Jack had known that. Never before, had he had family or friends stick around. He should never have allowed himself to become close to Crutchie, should have realized how it would end: with Crutchie leaving him, just like everybody else in his life. “I like you. Like, romantically. And, I get that you don’t feel that way about me, I get that, okay? And, I don’t want you feeling bad for me or anything, alright? It’s my problem and I can deal with it. I just want us to still be friends. I just… I can’t lose you, Crutchie. It was a mistake and I shouldn’t’ve ever done that. I’m sorry, just… Please forgive me?” Jack asked.

“You like me?” Crutchie asked. His voice was still devoid of emotion, but Jack could almost fool himself into thinking that something akin to hope shown in the younger boy’s eyes.

“Yeah, but it don’t need to mean nothing,” Jack told him. “Just forget all of this ever happened. And then we can go on with our lives and just… stay friends. Only friends.”

Crutchie finally smiled. “Jack, I thought it was obvious.” He ducked his head, picking at a loose thread at the hem of his shirt. “I kinda like you, too,” he admitted. “I just thought… You’ve been with so many girls, and then there was Katherine and you were really broken up about her, so I just never…” Crutchie trailed off, still picking at his shirt.

“You… really?” Jack asked, barely willing to believe Crutchie’s words.

“Um, yeah?” Crutchie replied, shrugging.

Slowly, giving Crutchie enough time to say no, Jack pulled Crutchie in a gentle hug. “Can I… kiss you?” he asked softly.

Crutchie nodded, and Jack tenderly kissed the other boy’s forehead, his cheek, his lips. “Jack, I think… I think I might love you.”

“Yeah?” Jack asked, his lips lightly touching Crutchie’s as he spoke. “Cuz, I think I might love you, too.” He kissed Crutchie softly, his heart soaring that this was reality, that this wasn’t some far-too-real dream that would leave Jack yearning in the morning. Jack pulled back, but kept his forehead touching Crutchie’s. “You think you’re gonna let me help take care of you now?” he gently teased.

“Only if you’re gonna let me help take care of you.”

It was a promise.

A promise that Jack never planned to break.

Jack blames himself.

Some days, he looks out the window of his small, dingy apartment where the stove won’t work and the pipes freeze every winter, and stares at the sky. He remembers a time when he would look up to the sky and just stare, in wonder, in amazement. He remembers when his fingers would itch for paints or charcoal and he would spend all afternoon sketching, smiling, laughing.

Now, the sky seems muted. It is no longer a vibrant blue. The sky is dull, dark, almost devoid of life. Every once in a while, a bird will fly past, its black plumage a dark omen against the heavens. Jack stares at the gray sky, watching leafless trees, as they tremble in the sharp November breeze. December is just around the corner, two days away. Jack watches as small, bundled families, cross the streets, packages carefully held beneath arms.

Christmas approaches, and, though Jack had never cared much for the holiday, he knows that Crutchie did. Crutchie would spend the weeks leading up to the holiday, grinning, laughing. He had always seemed the happiest around that time of year. When it would snow, Crutchie would laugh and stand outside, the fat flakes drifting down onto his upturned face.

Jack smiles softly, at the memory.

But, it will snow. Probably within the next day or two, the skies will rage and thick flurries of ice will be whipped across the streets, making it hellish to get to work. The clouds will thicken, darken, portentous of the cruel ice that will soon follow.

And, Crutchie is not around to warm the frozen scenery.

The smile slips.

Jack stands, slowly getting dressed. No matter how tempting it is to just lay in bed and remember, he knows that he does not have the luxury to miss a day at work. Not when every last cent must be saved, put towards a future where ice and murky skies will just be a faint, bitter memory. He shaves, ignoring the dull eyes in his reflection as he focuses on each slow, precise motion. It’s a mind-numbing action, one that provides a welcome relief from the thoughts and memories that barrage him from side to side.

Crutchie used to tease Jack for how methodically he would shave. He would stand behind him, his smile beaming out of the somewhat distorted reflection. Sometimes, after Jack had finished shaving, Crutchie would reach up and kiss him, their lips lingering together, until Jack would pull away, needing to go to work.

Sometimes, he can still feel Crutchie’s lips on his.

Jack shrugs on his jacket, stuffing his hands into the pockets to protect against the frigid air. A familiar, folded piece of paper catches his attention. A ticket–just one–to Santa Fe. He brushes his finger against its fold, a practiced comfort. The ticket has been in his pocket for the better part of two months. It’s a promise, now. One he can’t break. He’ll get out to Santa Fe, come December 2nd.

He ducks out the door, bracing himself against the sharp wind that seems to slice through his jacket effortlessly. The wind turns his lips blue, his cheeks red. Jack glances up at the sky, disappointed in the thick, monotonous clouds that hide the sun from sight. It’s a ten minute walk to the newspaper office he illustrates for, with roads that seem to stretch forward, unending.

Once, the walk seemed much too short. When Crutchie would stroll beside him, their fingers intertwined when safe, their wrists bumping each other when not. Crutchie would smile, his laughter filling the wide streets, bouncing from building to building. They’d stop in front of the small bookstore that Crutchie worked at, and Jack would bring his finger up to trace Crutchie’s cheek. For a moment, they’d be lost to the world, living in each other’s eyes, sustained on smiles. Then, Crutchie would wish him a good day at work, wave softly, and turn away.

Jack passes the bookstore, its brick muted and colorless in the dreary day. He pointedly refuses to look into the wide window, doesn’t scan the inhabitants of the building for a face that he could never forget. Jack fears what he may find if he stops and stares. He moves forward, moves on.

At work, he is greeted by familiar faces, all smiling. No one can ever compare to Crutchie and his ever-widening grin. Jack nods and tries to smile back. It never feels right. The motions are there, but the intent is wrong. His colleagues don’t seem to notice, as they wish him luck on his future journey. His last day of work, and it all feels so fake, so concerted. Jack smiles at the correct moments, and laughs, and jokes. Jack wishes for the end.

There was a time, when he had dreamed of leaving this job, of hopping a train and travelling to Santa Fe. That dream had hardened, stiffened in stony silence. It is less of a dream and more of a fate, now. He slides his thumb along the edge of the ticket, reminding himself what needs to happen, where he must leave, in only a few short days.

The day slugs onward. Jack edges past the well-wishers, making his way out of an office that he will never return to, and begins the trek back home. The wind has let up, allowing a short reprieve in the blustery weather. Jack starts on his way home, ignoring the passersby that don’t even notice his presence, won’t even realize he’s gone. Though, perhaps, ignoring them hadn’t been the wisest of his choices. Jack stumbles into a man only a couple inches shorter than him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly, before realizing.

“Jack.”

“Crutchie.”

There are so many things Jack wishes to say, so many words that crowd and fight and demand to be released, a deluge of I’m sorry’s and I never should have’s and please, please come back’s. Nothing comes. Jack only stares.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” Crutchie says, his eyes darting to the street behind Jack, looking for an escape. Crutchie starts to step away and Jack instinctively reacts.

“Wait,” he cries out, grabbing Crutchie’s arm. “No, sorry. Sorry,” Jack apologizes when Crutchie flinches away. “You… Are you doing okay?”

Crutchie smiles, the motion bitter. “I’m fine, Jack. Always have been, always will.”

It’s a lie. It’s a lie, and Jack wants to point it out, but fears Crutchie’s reaction. “Yeah?” he asks instead. “That’s good. You know, December is right around the corner. Just…” he pauses, breathing out a cloud of warm air, “Just a few more days.”

This time the smile is more real, natural. “It is.”

Jack doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to keep Crutchie from walking away once more. So, he blurts out the only thing that’s been on his mind for the past couple weeks. “You know, I’m heading out to Santa Fe in a few days. You could… You could come.”

Crutchie’s eyes narrow, but he plays it off. “Ah, you don’t want me out there, riding some palomino. I’ll just stay here.” It wasn’t as if he expected any other answer. Jack knew, all too well, how Crutchie felt about Santa Fe. It had come up, their last night together.

Jack still isn’t sure where it all started, how it all started. He blames himself, knows that it must have been something he did, something he didn’t. There had been a rift, a soft distancing. Crutchie had stopped turning to Jack to talk, and Jack had, bitterly, stopped asking. It wasn’t as if he didn’t care–and, on bad days, he worries that that is what Crutchie had believed–he just… got mad. And retreated.

It got worse. Dinners were spent in silence. Jack began to devote more time to his art, and Crutchie… Crutchie would stay out later and later. Jack suspected that he began to dread coming home, that he no longer trusted Jack. It hurt, but Jack, ever too prideful, refused to be the first to come down.

Then, it got to be too much. Crutchie sat down one night, hands clenched tightly together, like how he used to do when he was nervous. “Jack,” he had said, and his voice had been calm. Too calm. Too collected. “Jack, I don’t think this is working out. I… Let’s take a break, okay?”

Jack hadn’t known what to say, had wondered if it was already too late to say anything. “But, we love each other.”

“Yeah, Jack,” Crutchie agreed, almost wearily. And the weariness had terrified Jack. “Yeah, we did. Maybe we still do. But, maybe it’s best to just… separate. I think I’m gonna spend the night at Specs’ place. So… I’ll see you ‘round.”

He didn’t know what to say, he was scrabbling, trying to keep it all together. “No, wait,” Jack cried out, reaching across the table and grabbing Crutchie’s hand. Crutchie pulled his hand out of reach, but Jack barrelled forward. “Let’s go, Crutch. To Santa Fe! Like we always said we would.”

Crutchie scoffed, “When we were kids? No, Jack. Santa Fe is… not for me. You go out there, though. Planting crops and splitting rails, and all that.”

Jack hadn’t taken “no” as an answer, hadn’t even understood why Crutchie wouldn’t want to go West. He had shown up to Specs’ apartment, only a day later. “I got the tickets,” he told Crutchie breathlessly. “I got the tickets. We leave in December. It’ll give us time to quit our jobs, save some money, and beat the snow. We’re really doing this, Crutch. Just like we always wanted.”

Crutchie had frowned. “Jack, I ain’t goin’ with you. I don’t want to go to Santa Fe. Never really wanted to. It was nice, dreamin’ about it. But… all I wanted was you and then…”

“You can still have me,” Jack told him. “I’m still–”

“It’s different. You’re different. I’m different. We ain’t kids no more,” Crutchie told him. “I’ve got a job, a good one, at that. And I love Manhattan. I ain’t giving this up. So, Jack, you go on ahead without me. You go on ahead to Santa Fe.”

There hadn’t been a huge fight. No yelling, no name-calling, no objects flung across the apartment. Jack almost wishes that there had been shouts and words that could never be taken back. Because, then, it would be so much easier to push the back-breaking blame onto someone, something else. Because, then, the guilt wouldn’t crush Jack each moonless night, each darkened morning. In the end, it had just been a tired smile and a “good-bye, Jack” and nothing more. They had parted ways, Jack still struggling to understand where it had all gone wrong. Eventually, Jack stopped trying to find Crutchie in the crowd. 

(He wondered if Crutchie ever even looked for him.) 

They drifted apart, out of each other’s orbit.

And now, Crutchie stands there, staring at Jack, as Jack tries to explain himself. “Come on, Crutchie. It’ll be an adventure. Just the two of us, blazing trails, finding gold–you know, I heard there was gold out West.”

“Jack,” Crutchie says. It is all that is needed to be said, in the end.

“We-ell,” Jack says, stumbling over the word. “Well, you still got that ticket, right? If you… If you change your mind, you can get on that train, yeah? I’ll save you a seat. Right next to me,” Jack tells him, smiling weakly.

“Good-bye, Jack,” Crutchie says, his voice soft.

He walks away, leaving Jack behind to wonder if he had ever had a hope, a chance, to keep Crutchie in his life. Or, if from the very start, is was fated for failure. He rubs his thumb against the train ticket, clinging to the fact–the hope–that in a few days, he would be on the train, and maybe Crutchie would be there, too.

(And, when that train did pull out of the station, Jack would only stare out the window, ignoring the forever-empty seat beside him. He would wonder if Crutchie had even considered the offer, or if the decision had always been made. 

“That’s okay,” he would say, “I can take care of myself.” But, he wouldn’t know whether the phrase–oft-repeated–was truth or gilded lies, believable after so many years. Jack would watch the gray city fade into the distance. 

And, he would wonder if Crutchie ever needed him, or if he had only ever needed Crutchie.)

[recentanimenews]

Crunchyroll Features' Most-Anticipated Anime of Fall 2018!

Yesterday, we gathered together the Features team's editors to talk about the Summer 2018 shows that stuck with us the most. Now, looking to the far future of this coming weekend, we also wanted to share the top shows of the Fall 2018 season that we're most excited for.

  The last season was notable for having a variety of genres--comedy, action, horror, adventure--and while some shows are guaranteed hits for our editors (hi, Golden Kamuy), every one of them ended up going in their own direction. Let's get started!

  NATE MING

Summer 2018 was pretty awesome, but Fall 2018 is right around the corner--well, okay, it's already here. Here's the three shows I'm most looking forward to for Fall 2018!

     Golden Kamuy- "Beatings, bears, and Battlestar Galactica some damn delicious-looking food" is the best way I can describe Golden Kamuy. Just think of it like a cooking and wilderness survival anime, only every episode or so we get a horrific fight scene or someone gets mauled by a bear. I can't wait to rejoin Sugimoto, Asirpa, and Shiraishi as they navigate the treacherous woods of Hokkaido and the even more treacherous alliances made as all the factions start facing off.

    Radiant- We've done a whole bunch of coverage for Radiant here on CR News, and I was, to be honest, a bit skeptical. But reading up on it and seeing the love that Tony Valente's put into this world and its characters, I'm ready to jump in and watch Seth take on the Nemesis. I needed a new shonen addiction anyways. And speaking of pure shonen goodness...

  JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5: Golden Wind- Barring Steel Ball Run, I very firmly believe that JoJo's Bizarre Adventure is a lot like Star Trek movies: the best installments are even-numbered. This doesn't mean that I'm not excited for Part Five, a wild romp through a stylized Italy where our new JoJo--sorry, GioGio--Giorno Giovanna and friends fight their way up the ranks of the mob to become Gang Stars! If you thought the Stand abilities and chess-match battles were crazy the last time around, well… yeah. You ain't seen nothin' yet.

  NICOLE MEJIAS

With Summer 2018 winding down, I’ve got my eye on a few series, two of which are returning or continuing series and one new one!

    JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5: Golden Wind- I’m a huge JoJo fan, so this one was a no-brainer for me. I’ve been absolutely stoked to see the Golden Wind anime since I first heard about the announcement, and I’m really excited to see a JoJo storyline that I don’t already know much about! This one is almost totally fresh to me aside from a few characters I’ve seen in the JoJo fighting games over the years, and I can’t wait to see what crazy antics the cast will get up to, as well as the Stands that we’ll see in this new story arc! The JoJo anime have always had vibrant and catchy designs and music choices to go along with the striking and unique visuals, and seeing what’s already available for Golden Wind I think that trend is only going to continue, so I can’t wait!

    Golden Kamuy- I initially didn’t know what to expect from Golden Kamuy when I saw season 1 earlier this year, and I almost was sure I wouldn’t like it, but instead I got hooked by the amazing cast and mixture of hard, violent action and calm, funny moments of cooking and camaraderie. I have been dying to know what would happen with Sugimoto and the gang as they keep heading forward with their quest to find the Ainu gold and Nopperabo’s secrets, and I’m absolutely on board to see what interesting food Asirpa cooks up for the cast next, as well as the weird faces that are a Golden Kamuy staple! I’m even excited to see what stupid antics Shiraishi gets himself into, the stupid jerk!

    Skeleton Bookstore Employee Honda- I am also a huge gag comedy fan, so any time I see something that looks like it’ll scratch that itch I’ve got to check it out. I absolutely love zany and odd comedy shows like Pop Team Epic, Cromartie High School, Space Battleship Tiramisu, and Inferno Cop, so that made Honda an instant Fall must-watch for me based on what I’ve seen of the show so far! The idea of a skeleton bookstore employee who sells manga was enough to get me hooked, and the other bizarre coworkers he has made me even more excited. I don’t really know what to expect out of this show, but I get a feeling that will just make checking it out even more exciting! Besides, what’s not to love about a workplace comedy about a skeleton selling manga!? Don’t give up, skeleton!

  PETER FOBIAN

Fall is looking to have a fantasy overabundance with revival of Sword Art Online, Goblin Slayer, some new isekai, and Radiant, so the season is basically already a success. I feel a little bad for more narrative-focused shows that require a few episodes before you decide they're amazing, but there are plenty of upcoming titles that have the legacy and/or visuals to get me mega-hyped.

Radiant- There’s so much to be excited about with Radiant: a new shonen title is always cause for celebration, but one authored by a French comic artist is an historic first, and what it could mean for the industry is anyone’s guess. More than that, I want to watch this anime because the manga is awesome--it’s no mistake that Radiant has been translated into so many languages and earned this adaptation. Right out the gate it was hilarious, quirky, and heartfelt, and the world and action sequences are also breathtaking. Even from my small exposure, I just want to see what this thing will look like in full color and motion. Also, Romi Park.

Golden Kamuy- If you didn’t watch the first season of this anime, it’s time to catch up. Far and away one of the best anime of the spring season, Golden Kamuy almost defies explanation. Historical action/drama, treasure hunt, cooking anime, and slice-of-life each tell you a bit about what Golden Kamuy has to offer without giving you the full picture. It’s breathtakingly violent, raucously funny, and unbelievably cute in turns. Sugimoto and Asirpa’s quest for gold has introduced a huge cast of cutthroat killers as friends and competition who each possess an unbelievable amount of charisma, and I expect even more characters to show up in the second half.

SSSS.GRIDMAN- I’ll call this the inheritor of my “boy with amnesia fights aliens in a mech” pick. To be honest, I’m not sure if I would have put this up here if I hadn’t already watched the first episode. Sword Art Online and even Goblin Slayer have me really interested in seeing what, or how, they’re planning to deliver, but SSSS.GRIDMAN showed off some really unique stuff in its world premiere. The characters were fun, the world was mysterious, and the giant Gridman looked really, really cool. You can check out my review if you’re interested in seeing what I mean, but I’m really in the mood for some faux retro-kids-banding-together-to-defeat-a-big-enemy story.

What about you? What are you most looking forward to in the Fall 2018 season? Have you already checked out RErideD, the first one out the gate? Let us know what you're hyped for in the comments!

-----

Nate Ming is the Features Editor for Crunchyroll News and creator of the long-running Fanart Friday column. You can follow him on Twitter at @NateMing.

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com