#brave like godzilla

[kenro199x]

As I've said a billion times, no other IP is as versatile as Godzilla. I'm happy that even though it's taken the audience 70 years, they can see that Godzilla can do it all.

(Needs some Little Godzilla, though)

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

apparently there are a few people out there who are mad about the "Brave Like Godzilla" book because Minilla uses they/them pronouns, i feel like that's a weird thing to get upset about tbh

LMAOOOOOOOO

[brokehorrorfan]

Brave Like Godzilla will be published on June 25 via Penguin Young Readers. Aimed at readers ages 4-8, it's written by Charlie Moon and illustrated by Jordan Bradley and Milo Moore.

Inspired by 1967's Son of Godzilla, the 32-page picture book features the King of the Monsters teaching Minilla to face his fears, with appearances from such monsters as Mothra, Rodan, Anguirus, and Gabara.

Face your fears with Minilla and Godzilla in this original picture book! Minilla and his friends are having a great day on Monster Island, when suddenly Gabara comes in and ruins their fun! Minilla knows it's hard to stand up to others, but with a little help from Godzilla, he and his friends will learn the importance of working together and never giving up!

Pre-order Brave Like Godzilla.

[inferno-0]

Godzilla x reader where he pretends he's not interested, but his body language says otherwise? (Like holding reader close or wrapping his tail around them?)

Pretend /Godzilla x Reader/

─In any case, there is a good heart behind the rough skin. ─

────────────────────────────

(I could have really written the moment where he wraps his tail around you, but I decided otherwise.)

How he would like to just get up now, go somewhere away from your chatter. Your pursuit was irritating and stupid at the same time. The same question follows him: "Why are you doing this?" He would have chased you away long ago and threatened you with a scream that was terrible to your little ears, but your body, sitting on the top of his head, somehow prevented you from doing so.

The Titan lay tolerantly in the Colosseum, staring away from hopelessness while your meaningless words about the present day flew through his head. How you started the day and how you continued. Where you missed and where you made a good choice. The whole thing had nothing to do with the lizard, and he wanted to see you retreat as soon as possible. But Godzilla wasn't in a hurry to do it. Raise your head or shake yourself. None of that.

Just lie down peacefully and endure until you get up and stop talking.

"And today I decided to come to you again. Considering that it's quite a long walk to my house, and the Colosseum was a few steps away from me." ─ How unfortunate... Instead of your lair, go to someone else's. To Titan himself. And to sit on the top of his head was something at all... Insolent... And brave at the same time. Godzilla snorted once more, kicking up dust around him. He slowly turned his head away from the sun's rays, continuing to listen to your hollow sounds until he felt your short steps going straight down. His pupils narrowed. Quickly realizing what was going on, the left clawed paw rose and instantly caught your body sliding downward.

─ He's got you.

Though I could have just stayed in the same position and waited for your fate.

But the Titan decided otherwise. To look at your frightened and at the same time grateful eyes. A scaly palm went down, still holding you out. You swallowed without saying a word, to which Godzilla frowned and pinned you to the spot, above your jaws. He blinked slowly and looked away, waiting for another story about his escape from the so-called "School."

────────────────────────────

[ammoniteblue]

Not a Hero, Just an Author (p.1)

kenji sato x reader

Her latest novel a flop, Y/N is starting to worry she wasn’t meant to be an author. She’s 24, lives alone and most of her college friends are either married or in more traditional jobs. she feels like she’s being left behind. That is until a charming baseball player finds his way into her life and shows Y/N that it takes more than talent to be a star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“-And we’re expecting light showers this afternoon with heights of 17 degrees celsius. So make sure to pack an umbrella. In other news, the Giants are about to welcome legendary Japanese baseb-“

The morning radio rambled quietly in your car, some light background music on your morning commute to work. Today you’d left too late, a delay caused by your alarm clock not going off on time, and now you were paying for it. The traffic jam was long. At this rate you were going to be late for work.

You sighed, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel impatiently. If you were even five minutes late your editor was going to kill you. this was a super important meeting, one Sana had been fighting for for months. It could make or break your career, taking you from a small time author to the real thing. An international bestseller. A book adapted into a screenplay. A movie. A show. World wide recognition. A dream come true.

You could feel that dream slipping away as the traffic in front of you crawled forwards.

There was a ding. Your phone. No doubt Sana asking about where the fuck you were. A cursory glance at your watch informed you had twenty minutes to get down town.

fuck.

Was your heart racing from the three cups of coffee you chugged this morning or the stress ?

Another ding. And then another. Oh my god.

It was wrong, perhaps even evil. something you’d never admit aloud. but a tiny part of your brain wished, just for a second, that a Kaiju would drop down from the sky and rid the streets of traffic.

A great scream tore through the air. It was unlike anything you’d ever heard before. Beyond animalistic. a noise only a monster could make. Horns began to blare ahead of you and as you strained your neck to look up you realised why.

“Be careful what you wish for…” You hissed to yourself, as a towering reptilian figure appeared ahead of you.

It was easily taller than the surrounding skyscrapers. The Kaiju resembled a lizard, a knock off version of Godzilla. It’s beady yellow eyes didn’t seem to blink and as the creature took a step the ground trembled. earthquake like ripples shook the earth, sending your cup of coffee teetering over in your car.

People had begun to panic. Pedestrians turned and ran in the opposite direction, not afraid of pushing each other out of the way. In your rear view mirror you watched as an office worker knocked an old lady over in his hurry. He didn’t bother to stop.

Now you’d never call yourself a hero. You weren’t particularly brave or even outgoing. Maybe that’s why you became an author. It was a great gig and one you got to do alone. So it came to a shock to you when you found yourself getting out of your car and rushing into the crowd.

People barrelled past you, mothers clinging to their children, workers evacuating buildings. even cats and dogs had taken to running for the hills. You did your best to push through them until you were there, standing over the old lady.

She was struggling to pick herself back up, her cane discarded to the side. Quickly, you grabbed it and with your free hand helped her up to her feet.

“Thank you my dear, you shouldn’t be putting yourself in danger.” She said her voice wobbling a little.

A quick glance down informed you that she’d been hurt. blood was trickling down her left leg. she needed medical attention.

“It’s okay, we need to find you hel-“ You began to say only to be interrupted by a thundering roar.

A ray of purple light shot only metres past you both. It hit a row of cars near you, each one vaporising into nothing but debris and ash. From where you were huddled you could feel the heat radiating off of it.

The old lady let out a scared scream and as you glanced up you realised why. The Kaiju’s snakelike eyes were trained exactly on you. You blinked as your body suddenly went numb. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. To be under the glare of a creature so big, so terrifying. A primal instinct in you told you to run. to leave the old lady and turn and save yourself. But you didn’t. You stayed. Whether that was out of nobility or fear you didn’t know.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not when in mere moments you would be dead. reduced to nothing but ash on the sidewalk. No big meeting, no movie deal. You’d die a small time author no one has ever heard of. Your parents. What would they think ? their only child dead. They wouldn’t even get to say goodbye.

goodbye mum. goodbye dad. I’m sorry.

There was nothing you could do but try to shield the old woman as the Kaiju opened its mouth and roared. There was a great flash of purple and heat. heat unlike anything you’d ever felt. and then nothing.

Moments passed and you realised you weren’t dead. Neither of you were. The attack hadn’t come. But how ?

A feeble glance informed you how.

Stood only mere feet away from you, shining in silver and red was Ultraman himself. The city’s hero returned after months of absence. He was here. He was back. He saved you.

“Ultraman.” You breathed, staring in wonder up at him as he used a shield to divert the attack.

It was almost beautiful. the way the purple ray clashed with the blueish shield creating a symphony of light and colour.

The attack stopped and his shield dropped. Before the Kaiju could move, he raced forwards and tackled the beast into the ground. the impact sent tremors through the earth, one’s that almost sent you and the old lady toppling over.

“Quickly, let’s find shelter.” You slung her arm over you and used this diversion to try and drag you both to safety.

Soon after the KDF arrived, and emergency services. A paramedic saw to the old lady, Mrs Tanaka, who repeated endless apologies to you. She held your hand in hers and said:

“my dear you saved my life. i can never repay you. i am forever in your debt.”

Then as you started to cry, overwhelmed by stress and sheer relief at still being alive, she brought you into a hug. it was warm and homey. it felt like you were a kid again. like everything would be alright.

When you did finally turn up at your editors, six hours late and covered in scratches and blood, some yours and some Mrs. Tanaka’s, Sana flung herself into your arms. Your boss bitch editor, the self proclaimed Ice Queen of publishing, bawled in your arms like a homesick baby. The meeting was pushed back till you felt better and she demanded you take a few days to rest and de stress.

By the time you got home you were a shaking mess of nerves, trauma and exhaustion. if not for the blood and dirt you would’ve flung yourself on your bed and promptly passed out. But a shower was sorely needed and after the shower you realised how hungry you were. Saving an old lady’s life hadn’t left a lot of time for lunch.

There was a ramen shop below your apartment. a nice cosy spot run by a sweet old man who’d gone out of his way to actually read your book, after you’d finally told him you were an author. you’d been a regular there since you moved into your apartment a year ago. A nice warm bowl of ramen might just be the thing you needed.

In sweats and glasses you padded out of your apartment and down the stairs.

It was only nine thirty and the streets of tokyo were very much alive. People shuffled up and down the streets. groups of giggling university students, no doubt on their way to a bar or club. Oh to be young. Office workers were only just now leaving work, slumping down the streets like zombies. Their briefcases hanging limply in hand.

You shuffled into Mr Ozami’s ramen shop to be greeted with the savoury smell of veggies and meat. It was fairly quiet, a lull between the dinner crowd and night walkers. The booth in the back, your favourite spot, was free. Mr. Ozami didn’t even give you a menu, he nodded from behind the counter and went to whip up your usual.

It was nice. the pair of you exchanged barely any words but had somehow forged an unlikely friendship. right now it was just what you needed. quiet company and a warm meal.

Prompt as always, Mr. Ozami slid a bowl in front of you, popping a pair of chopsticks down. He nodded again and like that returned to his spot behind the counter. He knew you’d leave the exact amount of change for the meal after. Never a tip. you’d tried the first time you came and he’d immediately handed it back.

It was perfect. down to the last minute detail. Warm broth flowed into your stomach and slowly your nerves began to fade. an ease settled over you. tonight you’d sleep well. despite the absolutely harrowing day, you’d sleep well.

Or so you thought, until a stranger walked into the shop.

at first you didn’t notice. your whole face was almost in your bowl of ramen, too fixated on slurping noodles to realise someone else was in the shop. Maybe that’s why you were so startled to notice a guy standing by the counter, examining a menu in hand. Or maybe it was because the longer you stared the more you realised he looked familiar.

Too familiar.

And that’s when it hit you.

Tall, lean and dark haired. the man in front of you was Kenji Sato. New addition to the Giants and legendary baseball player.

Holy shit.

He looked up not giving you any time to wipe the broth off of for your face. a noodle hung limply from your mouth. for the second time today you were shocked still. The moments of eye contact were unbearable. His eyes flickered over you and you could see in his mind he was weighing you up.

Of all the days to be wearing sweats and slippers.

Thankfully he must’ve registered you as disgusting because he glanced away and back at the menu. With his eyes off you, you were free to slurp the noodle up and wipe the broth from your mouth, while trying to ignore the gentle stab in your gut.

Of course a superstar like Kenji Sato wouldn’t find you attractive. He wasn’t just a stupidly talented athlete, he was also good looking enough to be a model. in fact he did model. you’d seen the giant billboards with his face on, the flying blimps with him eating food or drinking something. not to mention in one fashion magazine there’d been this pic of him half naked with fake tattoos a-

No that was enough. stop it. today had been hard enough and you came here to relax. this person, because at the end of the day Kenji Sato was a person just like you, would not ruin that for you. You needed to sleep tonight. You needed to stay calm.

“Hey I saw you staring so i thought you might want this.” And there goes staying calm.

Kenji Sato was stood in front of your booth, looking like sin itself in his varsity jacket and sunglasses, holding out a signed baseball card to you.

For the third fucking time you froze. seriously it was becoming a problem. clearly you could only take action when it came to saving little old ladies. but anything else ?? nope not happening.

“Here then, i’ll just leave it on your table.” He half chuckled, sliding the card next to your bowl.

It wasn’t till he turned away that your brain finally started to work and your stupid mouth opened.

“O-oh uh thanks. that’s very nice of you but maybe you should save it for someone else ?” oh my god. what the hell were you saying.

Kenji paused and half turned to face you. one of his eyebrows was raised.

“It’s just,” you quickly tried to save yourself, “i’m not the biggest baseball fan and there’s probably a fan out there who’s really like it.”

nope yep you made it worse. why were you telling like the best player in japan, maybe the whole world, that you didn’t like his sport ?? Did you hit your head today and just forget ? It had to be the exhaustion talking, it had to be.

Amazingly, Kenji didn’t balk at your words. Rather the corners of his mouth twisted into an amused smile. He considered you for a moment and maybe he would’ve said something in response, if Mr. Ozami hadn’t come over with a take out box.

“Here.” He said plainly, handing the box to Kenji.

Kenji took it with a thank you, maybe a little perplexed at Mr. Ozami’s blunt way of speaking. he had been in the states almost his whole life. They probably did things differently over there.

“So um yeah…here you go ?” you held the card out to him, trying not to blush in embarrassment at your awkwardness.

everything that had come out of your mouth since he walked in felt stupid. it was like you were a completely different person. Why were you acting like this ?

Kenji glanced between you and the card. His amused smile never faded.

“You know what,” he grinned, “keep it. might just make a baseball fan out of you yet.”

He gave you one last look and it took everything in you to not turn bright red under his gaze, before turning and walking out of the shop.

It wasn’t till many minutes later that you glanced away from the doorway where he’d disappeared through. The card in your hands was shiny, a small laminated rectangle.

There he was, bat in hand, dark eyes shining, a self assured smile on his face. at the bottom was his signature scribbled in dark ink.

you flipped it over, expecting to find nothing but a blank white space. what you saw sent your heart into a cacophony of thumps. the blush you’d been holding back spilled over. every part of you felt red and hot and horribly unnerved.

scrawled across it in lazy handwriting were the digits:

+81 3 1234-5678

Kenji Sato’s phone number…..

[paunchbunny]

having the girl I like over again tonight to watch godzilla movies and get high and cuddle... i'm going to be so brave and guide her hand to my belly bc I think shes under the impression its a no touch zone when it is a SO touch zone

wish me luck soldiers

[fandomnerd9602]

Cate found herself face to eye with the king of the monsters himself, Godzilla. And then came you.

You marched out from under the mighty king. Godzilla had been your protector and father like figure for years. Your cloak was made of some of his fallen scales, allowing you to camouflage. Your side weapon, a battle axe made of one of Godzilla’s smallest fin spike, glistened in the sunlight.

“Who are you?” You asked, acting as your father’s mouthpiece.

“Cate. Cate Randa.” cate found herself stating a little breathless.

Her current mentor, Lee, walks forward. “We’re with Monarch. We’re hoping your familiar with us.”

You look to Godzilla and do a series of little hand signals, your own little language with the king.

“They say they’re with Monarch, father”

He simple grunts and blinks. “Monarch. Caution.”

“What is your business, Monarch?”

“I’m just trying to find my dad” Cate states before looking to her half siblings, “we’re just trying to find him.”

You look back to the king and sign their answer to him.

“Aid them” was Godzilla’s response. You nod.

“Allow me to guide you” you gesture to the small group and guide them towards the fissure that leads towards the Hollow Earth.

You wouldn’t admit it aloud but you found yourself starting to like the one called Cate. She wasn’t scared, she seemed brave in the face of danger. You didn’t know many humans.

You could only think about how Godzilla was gonna feel about this. Would the king of the monsters feel about his only ward possibly falling in love?

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

[kingofech0park]

six ways to say you're my everything

iwaoi (wc: 6,442)

The new kid moves into the house across the street when Iwaizumi is four. Fourteen years later, he's moving to Argentina. Hajime has never been good with words, so how can he find a way to tell his best friend he loves him before it's too late?

Alternatively, a million times Iwaizumi tries to say I love you, and one time the two manage to get it right.

______

The new kid moves into the house across the street when Iwaizumi is four.

Hajime watches the big moving van pull up in front of the house with great curiosity. He likes trucks. This one comes with a big dining room table, a couch, a little-kid bed frame that’s just the same size as his– and a whiny brat with huge eyes like milk chocolate and brown hair that’s so shiny that Hajime wants to reach out and touch it, and find out if it’s real. The kid seems perpetually anxious, always hiding behind his mother when he makes accidental eye contact with Hajime through the windowpane but still peering out from behind her legs to catch another glance. 

Hajime thinks he’s weird. He tells his mother this, to which she unceremoniously kicks him outside to go make a friend.

So he’s standing outside, scuffed velcro sneakers kicking a rock through the grass when it happens– New Kid is laying down in the grass across the road, looking through the green blades, and then he screams and sprints across the road without even bothering to look both ways. He’s weird. He also runs straight towards Hajime, screaming continuously and uninterrupted, and not even a full body slam into the other boy can get him to shut up.

“HEY!” Hajime shouts at New Kid, who is now fully on top of him and screeching still to heaven and earth and anyone else who could hear him (which is most everyone in Miyagi, Hajime is sure) and the New Kid pauses to take a breath, trembling and eyes huge and glassy with tears as he stares at Hajime momentarily. 

“I saw a bee .” New Kid whispers before the tears spill over and he begins wailing. Jeez. He’s so weird, Hajime thinks, but wraps him up in a hug anyway and pats his back with one tiny hand. The kid buries his snotty crying face into Hajime’s Godzilla t-shirt and as much as he wants to shove him off, the boy’s hair is just as soft as it looks and all up under Hajime’s chin.

“Did it even sting you?” Hajime questions, half annoyed, half jokingly.

“It DIDN’T.” New Kid looks up with indignation, already wiping away the tears. “But it’s a BEE and I don’t LIKE IT.”

“Were you scared? Lotsa people are scared of bees.” Hajime reassures him, patting his back again. The other boy swipes his hand aside.

“I’m not scared. I don’t get scared because I’m super brave!” It’s not a very convincing show, considering the flush on the boy’s cheeks from all the crying and the string of snot dripping from his tiny nose, but he seems dead set on this fact, so Hajime doesn’t push it.

“Well I’m Iwaizumi Hajime.” He says. “I live in the blue house.”

“Iwai… Iway-soomy?”

“IWAIZUMI.” He corrects firmly. New Kid looks like he’s about to burst into tears again as he tries to pronounce it, tongue stumbling over the Z, and Hajime relents. “You can just call me Iwa, I guess.”

“Iwa… that sounds DUMB.” New Kid sticks out his tongue. “I’m Oikawa Tooru.” Hajime is just getting ready to light into him for calling his name dumb when Oikawa says cheerily, “I’ll just call you Iwa-chan!”

“NO!”

“Iwa-chan!!” The new kid hits Hajime with this thousand watt grin, one that feels like sunshine and butterflies and rainbows and makes his heartbeat speed up, or maybe skip a few beats. He brushes off the feeling as best as he can and hides the sudden weirdness underneath a facade of annoyance.

“You’re just mad you can’t pronounce my name, Dumbykawa.”

“HEY! That is very mean.” Oikawa says, stomping one foot. “Iwa-chan is a meanie.”

“It’s IWAIZUMI!”

And so begins the greatest adventure that never truly ends.

______

Within a few weeks of the Oikawas moving in, Hajime has become Tooru’s brave knight in shining armor, and Tooru his delicate prince.

As much as the brunette claims to be big and strong and valiant, he screams when he sees ladybugs and the Iwaizumis’ dog and cries when Hajime reminds him that he’s shorter. “I’ll grow taller than you one day.” Tooru proclaims, cheeks pink and embarrassed, and shrieks at his Iwa-chan to stop laughing after.

Hajime has never had anyone to share everything with before. They eat melonpan and milkbread together in the green grass of spring and share watermelon popsicles when the sticky heat of summer comes around. Oikawa screams when grasshoppers appear before them as they sit on the curb and leaps into his knight’s arms, screaming “SAVE ME, IWA-CHAN.” as he hides behind tiny fingers. June passes fast and July faster, a blink of an eye in 31 long afternoons spent wading in the creek and catching dragonflies. Birthdays pass by full of excitement and cake and new toys to play with, but their new five-year-old status means something new: by August, the pair have a far greater foe than large bugs and thunder to reckon with. They are going to kindergarten. 

Oikawa doesn’t want to, vocally complaining every chance he gets, and Hajime doesn’t either– but he still holds his prince’s hand and tells him important things, like that it’ll be just fine and don’t you want to get super smart and big like your mom and dad? Tooru nods, face screwed up tearfully like it always is when anything remotely bad happens, and the two prepare for the first day of school of their lives.

The last sleepover of summer hurts in all the best ways. Oikawa is up in Iwaizumi’s godzilla themed bedroom with his alien patterned pillow under one arm and the two play trucks late into the night, the last sunset of freedom streaking gold and orange across the evening sky. They watch movies until too late, eat far too many sugary snacks, and as night falls, Oikawa snuggles into bed next to Hajime despite the existence of a perfectly good futon and whispers into his neck, “Iwa-chan, I’m scared.”

“Me too.” Hajime mumbles. He knows he’s the brave knight. He knows he’s supposed to protect Tooru, his sweet prince, but he’s scared. And they’re only five. And kindergarten feels like the biggest monster he’s ever had to fight, or maybe the end of the world.

“But I’ll be with you!” Oikawa looks utterly shocked, surprise written all over his five-year-old features, rosy cheeks so endearing, eyes so big and brown and warm. “Iwa-chan will protect me and I’ll protect Iwa-chan.”

“Yep! That’s a good idea.” Hajime feels the smile spreading over his face as the brunette snuggles closer. 

“We’ll be together forever, right, Iwa-chan?” Tooru asks. His face is all pink and sweet and worried, and Hajime doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t have the words yet to say, of course. I want you with me always and forever and no matter what. Doesn’t know how to say I love you. So he just kisses his best friend on the cheek, short and swift, and hides under the covers.

“Yeah. Go to sleep, Dumbykawa.” He mutters, face flushed.

Iwaizumi is sure of the undeniable truth at that moment– as long as they are together, everything will be okay.

______

Elementary school comes and goes in a whirlwind of time after the two discover volleyball in second grade. 

At first, Iwaizumi is sure it’s another one of Oikawa’s phases that come and go– brief obsessions with constellations, with aliens, with dinosaurs, with drawing, with baking (the shortest, forcefully put to an end by his mother after he almost set fire to the kitchen) but the sport sticks in his life, a new and permanent fixture that changes their friendship in a thousand perfect ways. Time spent wandering through the creeks, Tooru complaining about bug bites, is now spent sweaty and starry-eyed as they both pull off their first decent receives, first basic serves, first sets and spikes that they cheer at, fist bumping as they raucously yell in excitement. Everything about volleyball is new to them both and yet utterly addictive, terrific, fitting into their lives flawlessly like the last piece of the puzzle. Childhoods always pass people by quickly, and theirs is a thing to behold; a thing to dream about in thirty years, a quintessential youth spent finding ways to fly.

But by the end of fifth grade, Hajime is already feeling it– the omnipresent weight of the growth to come, the transition to junior high marking an abandonment of childish freedoms. They have both changed so much since they have met, but volleyball remains, a remnant of a picturesque boyhood to carry onward. Oikawa has latched onto it like a lifeline, and Hajime has to stop him from practicing before he collapses on some worrying nights.

They still have sleepovers often. They practice volleyball constantly, but they still watch space movies at Oikawa’s behest, still share dorayaki and still buy ramune on hot days. But there are other, subtle changes now that they are older; his best friend has begun to sleep on the futon without complaint most nights, and their midnight chatter has become sprinkled with a new topic of conversation: girls.

“Do you have a crush, Iwa-chan? Don’t you think Ishida-chan from our class is cute? She looks at you all the time, you know, I bet she likes you.”

“Knock it off.” Hajime always says, pushing the topic of conversation off before Oikawa can probe too much. The problem with this whole situation is that he doesn’t have a crush. Girls don’t interest him. Boys don’t, either (and it would be sacrilege to admit it if he did). He really doesn’t know what it means to have a crush, anyway. Oikawa has explained it to him before, and he still doesn’t get it.

“It’s like, your heart gets all fluttery and you get excited and you just wanna talk to them! And get to know them. And you think they’re soooo pretty and like to look at them and stuff.”

“The only person I really get excited to talk to is you.” Iwaizumi mutters, voice gruff. “I don’t think I get this whole crush stuff.”

Oikawa looks at him, big brown eyes wide and so, so warm. “Does Iwa-chan have a crush on me?” It’s teasing, but there’s something underneath that Hajime can’t quite place.

“No, Stupidkawa. I don’t have a crush on anyone. You’re my best friend, is why,” He huffs, turning over on his bed. Oikawa sleeps on the futon again and doesn’t whine about being cold, not even once.

______

Tooru gets even more serious about volleyball somehow, once they’re in junior high.

Hajime has to personally drag him home from practice now that they go to Kitagawa Daiichi and are competing. The setter is always grinding himself to dust, trying to be better than anyone else, trying to bring out the best in every player, and trying to beat the Miyagi prefecture’s powerhouse junior high– Shiratorizawa. Oikawa is far from the little kid Hajime met– he doesn’t cry anymore, biting back every feeling instead; refusing to say if he’s hurting, refusing to admit he’s tired or hungry or has any kind of human need, like it would expose a weakness. Every time they have a sleepover now, talk of girls and crushes is a blip on the horizon of Oikawa’s infinite hunger to practice volleyball, get better at volleyball, be the greatest at volleyball, hit a perfect serve, throw a perfect set, c’mon, Iwa-chan please hit it for me just one more time, I want to make sure it’s perfect. It makes so much sense for him and yet is so puzzling to Hajime; the boy who cried in his arms because he saw a bee, not even getting stung, won’t admit when he’s overstretched the ligaments in his knees again, won’t admit when his fingers bleed as he wipes them surreptitiously on the inside of his dark blue uniform. There’s one incident, though, that really cements this new facet of Oikawa’s personality in Iwaizumi’s mind. It’s during a game.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi are second years, and Kitagawa Daiichi is playing Shiratorizawa. Tooru is spinning the ball between his fingers, preparing to serve, and his eyes are locked on the enemy– Ushijima Wakatoshi, the left handed freak spiker decked out in purple uniform, eyes narrowed as Tooru goes in for his jump serve. He’s become great at those serves. What once was a cheer-worthy hit as long as it made it over the net is now insufficient unless he scores a service ace, and he’s been practicing for hours and hours, training to perfection, training to the point of injury.

Iwaizumi can feel it from his position on the court. Tooru’s knees are just the slightest bit wobbly as he makes his approach, leaping into the air for the jump serve and his hand hits the ball with a deafening crack, its trajectory poorly aimed but its speed and power immense for a middle school team. But Oikawa’s descent from the jump is wrong. It’s like Hajime can see it in slow motion: his best friend landing on both feet, and then his right knee giving out under his body weight, collapsing to the ground.

There’s some shouting and general commotion but the setter pulls himself to his feet, face screwed up in pain, and continues to move– preparing to set the ball, to score a point, to win the game. Determined to the point of detriment like always. But the color drains from his face when he puts weight on the hurt leg, and he is mid-hobble to a setting position when the time-out is called.

“I’m not hurt, please don’t take me out of play.” He’s begging, pleading, when Hajime walks up to him and grabs him by the arm.

“What were you thinking? Getting back up to play? Stupidkawa!” He’s trying not to shout at his best friend, who’s already in so much pain, but Oikawa just launches himself into Hajime’s chest, finally letting the tears loose. It’s a whispered admission, for him and him alone, into his shoulder that Iwaizumi receives: “Iwa-chan, it really hurts.”

“I know. I can’t believe you tried to keep playing.” Hajime admonishes, pulling his best friend up by an arm around his shoulder, helping him hobble out to the nurses’. Tooru is trembling, trying not to cry some more, but holds onto Iwaizumi like a lifeline. “I want to keep playing.”

“I know.” the spiker replies as he sits him down in the nurse’s office. “But you can’t keep playing if you’re hurt, okay?”

“Shit.” Oikawa mumbles weakly into Iwaizumi’s arm, and the spiker doesn’t know how to tell him: I care about you so much. Please don’t get hurt. I love you too much to see you hurt. I want you to be happy all the time.

So he just says, “Stupidkawa. Take better care of yourself.”

“I know.” Tooru mutters, voice distant. “I know, Iwa-chan.”

______

Hajime doesn’t really get all this crush stuff until he’s a first year at Aoba Johsai.

Oikawa definitely gets it. He’s always gotten it, literally. Confessions left, front, and center, Valentine’s day candy piled up on his desk. He loves sweets, and attention, so he doesn’t seem to mind the overload of girls following him around like lost puppies everywhere he goes. But he never dates any of them, citing he’s too busy with volleyball or some other reason that’s never quite sufficient for his suitors.

There are lots of changes now that they’re in highschool. Like the myriad of girls with one eye always on Oikawa (and by proxy Iwaizumi, because they walk together so much). Like their new teammates and fellow first-years on the team, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, who are rapidly becoming their close friends. Like Oikawa growing taller than Hajime, for god's sake. But the weirdest change has definitely been this crush business.

Why does Iwaizumi get a sudden hole in the bottom of his stomach every time Oikawa is getting a confession? Is he worried that he might say yes?

He just doesn’t want to lose his best friend. That has to be it, right?

But the feeling continues. It happens when Oikawa gets excited about a heart-shaped lollipop someone gives him. It happens when Oikawa doesn’t throw away his confession letters and keeps them in a stack on his desk (“It’s not nice to throw them away, Iwa-chan! Just because you’re bad with the ladies doesn’t mean you shouldn’t respect their feelings). It happens when Oikawa goes on a cautious first date or two, never committing to a relationship but always dipping his toes in, toeing the line, something, never everything, and never nothing. And it definitely happens when Oikawa has his first real kiss and Iwaizumi feels a horrific twinge deep down in his gut that sounds exactly like, I’d feel gross kissing anyone unless it was Oikawa.

It hits him right then and there. And he doesn’t tell anyone his secret, but he’s always been a terrible liar, and the guilt feels so heavy, like an iron ball sitting in his esophagus whenever he swallows back his feelings: I have a crush on my best friend.

It isn’t a revelation in the sense that the feeling is new. It’s more of an epiphany, finally understanding something lost in translation for the last eleven years since they met, and it makes him a little sick to his stomach to finally know. Surely he had fallen for him, really, at a certain time, hour, day, minute. But the feeling seems to him to just be a natural way of being, an undeniable fact. It hurts around the edges, uncomfortable lodged in his heart now that he’s aware it’s there, but the world doesn’t end as much as Iwaizumi is sure it will, and he could never tell his best friend he loves him, so life goes on unchanged. 

Oikawa keeps saving confessions on his desk, until the pile has to be shoved into a drawer. He keeps rereading them sometimes late at night, when he’s sure he’s unlovable, and Iwaizumi keeps working to make sure his best friend knows that can’t be true. How can you be unloveable if I’ve loved you since the moment I met you? It’s what he wants to say. But he doesn’t have the words, and he doesn’t look for them. It wouldn’t change a thing. Iwaizumi would rather have him, incompletely, his best friend and everything and anything, then lose him to a stupid crush.

So he does his best to forget it.

______

It’s after the last game of an illustrious highschool career. A game against Karasuno. A game that means that Aoba Johsai’s team, and by proxy Oikawa and Iwaizumi, will never go to nationals.

They’ve all cried already. Iwaizumi has already cried into his best friend’s shoulder, wiped Tooru’s tears, compartmentalized all of this as what it is– a childhood dream gone unfulfilled, a good memory to keep nonetheless, and the last volleyball game of his highschool career with his favorite team he’s ever had the joy of playing on. And the last real game with his best friend. But they’re walking home and Hajime knows his best friend’s eyes are too hard to reflect acceptance; he grieves hard and slow and leaves a mark for himself to remember being hurt. 

“You know, you probably won’t be truly happy until you’re really old.” Iwaizumi says, trying to break the silence.

“Iwa-chan! What kind of curse is that!” His best friend’s voice is playful, but it’s off. The loss is still aching. Hajime knows him.

“No matter how many tournaments you win, you’ll still be that annoying guy who chases volleyball forever.” Iwaizumi is trying. He wants to tell him, you’ll be doing this forever. He wants to tell him, you’ll get another chance to win. And another and another and I know you won’t stop until you win everything. And I believe in you– but the words are failing him just like always.

“You always have to throw in an insult.” Tooru rolls his eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say–” Hajime’s brow furrows in frustration, the irritation getting to him. “Keep going without a second thought, anyway.”

Oikawa comes to a pause in the middle of the sidewalk. Does his best friend know how beautiful he looks in the moonlight? The flush in his face, the redness near his eyes from crying, lashes long and still wet, his soft hair swaying slightly as he walks. Hajime wants to tell him all of the most important things. He’s going to lose him soon. They will go their separate ways for the first time in fourteen years. I love you, he wants to say. You’re the love of my life. You’re going to be incredible anywhere. You always are. You’re every star in my sky. Iwaizumi Hajime has never been good with words. But he tries, just like always.

“I couldn’t be prouder to have you as a partner.” He says. “And you’re the absolute best setter.”

Iwaizumi Hajime does not know how to say it yet, how to say I love you , but he can see in his best friend’s eyes that it reaches him anyway.

______

Everything is changing all over again. Iwaizumi is moving to California for university. Oikawa is leaving, too, but even farther somehow– twelve hours of time difference away from the street with their two houses in Miyagi, to Buenos Aires, Argentina. The setter will train and train, train with José Blanco and train on the beach and grow huge wings that will fly him to the moon and stars. Hajime’s prince is becoming a king, and he won’t need a knight in shining armor by his side any longer.

It’s all happened too soon, and the unspoken confession weighs too heavy, too noticeable in his throat, bleeding all through the spiker’s lungs and skin as the date creeps closer and closer like a scheduled execution– the day his best friend, and possibly the love of his life, boards a plane and disappears to a far-off land to chase stars all by himself.

Iwaizumi has been taking care of Oikawa his whole life. Defending him from ladybugs and holding his milkbread and bandaging his scraped knees and helping him to the nurses’ office. Humming him to sleep on rough nights, spiking every set he throws at him, helping fill out a thousand forms for volleyball team applications. He’s never been good with words, but his love has been spoken through a million actions, a million moments caring, protecting his best friend from bees. Even the ones that didn’t sting. Hajime hopes, prays, pleads, that it’ll be enough. The date of departure creeps closer and closer, and the confession aches as it grows, always too close to the surface to swallow, never close enough to say.

The night before the light of his life vanishes into a memory, though, Oikawa Tooru knocks on his window and ushers him into the muggy midnight of a last Miyagi summer.

Iwaizumi gets out of bed slowly, groggily, rubbing his eyes. They come into focus to show pale, perfect setter fingers pressed up against the glass, cheeks flushed, the prettiest brown eyes on earth staring back at him. He cracks open the window. “What are you doing?”

“Iwa-chan!” His best friend smiles that thousand watt grin that got him so whipped fourteen years ago. It still fills Hajime with that big feeling, a swelling thing that makes him feel invincible, like his soul itself was buoyant, unencumbered by any evil of the world. Light. Free. But Tooru is taller now; there is a smugness in his eyes, muscles rippling along his arms, a full set of grown-up teeth between those pink lips Hajime wants to kiss so badly. His prince has grown beyond where he can reach.

That’s okay. He’s proud of him.

Iwaizumi shoves on scuffed white sneakers and swings one leg, then the other, out of the window and lands in the grass. They’ve snuck out like this hundreds of times before; at six, looking to hunt for fireflies in the stickiness of post-bedtime July; at nine, gazing up at the same constellations they always saw while Oikawa pointed out the Little Dipper, Cassiopeia, Orion’s Belt, Ursa Major. Asking if Iwaizumi thought aliens would come and kidnap them if they stayed out too late. Constantly at thirteen, Oikawa throwing set after set tirelessly or practicing his serves until his muscles ached and his knees were scraped on the pavement, Iwaizumi chastising him for his stupidity and holding his hand while they crept home; drinking at seventeen, sharing a secret sip of stolen beer under the light of a half moon, dew catching on the grass, always sharing Iwaizumi’s big green scarf that kept them both warm even if Oikawa had to lean on his best friend’s shoulder to fit. And now, at eighteen; Hajime feels his heart catch and tear on the jagged ribs that cage it. Maybe because it’ll be the last time this will ever happen, and he is not ready to let go.

“It’s my last night, Iwa-chan! Don’t you want to go out with a bang?” Tooru whispers. His voice is hushed and yet so electric; an undercurrent of excitement and passion and the slightest hint of his petulance. So, so easy to love.

“It’s the middle of your last night.” Hajime mutters dubiously. “Doesn’t your flight leave at 10am? Have you even packed?” 

The silence is loud. Iwaizumi looks at his best friend incredulously. “You really are a dumbass.”

“Shut it!” Oikawa retorts, ever so slightly whining, and God, Hajime loves him. “I wanted to go get snacks first! And you can help me pack, Iwa-chan.”

“I am not helping you pack.” Hajime snorts.

“Yes you are. You adore me.”

They walk to the convenience store with those words ringing in his head. They have far too much weight, and they’re so casual, but so true. How do you say I love you to your best friend after fourteen years of knowing it? How can you even start to explain the way you feel? Hajime could tell him lots of things. He could tell Oikawa his stupid hair is so soft and perfect even when he’s slept on it and that it doesn’t matter how much he fiddles with it, his anxiety is pointless. He could tell him that his eyes are warm like milk chocolate and fringed with lashes and that’s what makes all the girls orbit around him like he’s Jupiter, ninety-five moons always circling and never quite touching the planet’s surface. He could tell him that he hates the way he works himself so hard, hates the way he treats himself. Iwaizumi could say that he hates the way that he has to lose him, hates the way that he will let him go, every time, because Oikawa deserves to chase and pin down every dream he could possibly conjure; win everything, all of it, have the world and all the stars in the sky that Hajime dreams of hanging in those big eyes.

Tooru rushes him in the store, proclaiming various things like time waits for no man! and, it’s the last night of my childhood! as they pick out milkbread and pocky and lychee ramune and all the other things Oikawa won’t have in Argentina. They’re still poking around six minutes before closing, and the cashier gives them a withering glare that sends the setter into a fit of quiet giggles. Oikawa’s laughing is pretty, and Hajime resigns it to memory, keeping careful note of it for later– even though he’d really prefer to keep it, to have and to hold forever. They crack the cold ramune open outside and it fizzes sticky all over the setter’s slender fingers. Iwaizumi calls him an idiot like always and everything in the world is right. 

They wash their hands in the Oikawa house upstairs, quietly so as to avoid detection. The setter’s room is a mess– luggage only half packed, Aoba Johsai jersey slung across a chair, glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling from when he was scared of the dark peeling, everything unkempt. Socks aren’t in matching pairs in his suitcase, his Best Setter Award from junior high hanging tilted on the wall, blankets askew. It really only hits when he sees Oikawa’s volleyball shoes tucked neatly into the suitcase: he’s leaving. Possibly forever.

Fuck. Hajime loves him and he’s never gonna know.

Tooru decides after half an hour that packing is boring and also sad and it feels like a sear, red-hot and electric when he grabs Hajime’s hand to pull him outside. Too close. Not close enough. He hops onto his bike, Aoba-Johsai teal, and tells the spiker to get on, right behind him.

“We’ve tried this before. You always get too tired.”

“Iwa-chan, I’m big and strong now and I can totally cycle you to wherever I want to go.” Oikawa protests. He’s right, and Hajime isn’t sure he wants him to be.

“Besides,” The setter continues, “It’s a surprise.”

Despite his insistence, Hajime is the one pedaling uphill with Tooru’s arms wrapped around him within five minutes. His calves ache, burning under tan skin, a sheen of sweat along bare arms. The workout still isn’t enough to distract him from the secret buried inside his voicebox, though, and his best friend’s arms glow pale in the moonlight, fingers pressed into Hajime’s torso. They burn holes right through to his skin, cool through his shirt which is altogether too thick and far too thin. Oikawa’s chin rests on Iwaizumi’s bare shoulder, scorching and distracting, and the setter murmurs a myriad of facts Hajime won’t remember in the morning, pointing out constellations and telling him about the Mars rovers; Iwaizumi is too busy noticing the starlight that catches in Oikawa’s eyes, soft on his skin, reflecting off his hair, to care about anything in the sky. The pair emerges at the top of the hill and Hajime curses as he throws the bike aside, muscles aching, Tooru scrambling off him and the burn of his touch ebbing. Oikawa grabs his face. “Look, Iwa-chan,” he whispers, and tilts Hajime’s chin towards the sky.

He is sure the earth must be a tiny dot. The darkness stretches from end to end and the milky way is sprinkled across it like salt or snow, a trillion celestial suns dotting the cosmos. The moon hangs heavy and cold and Iwaizumi is reminded of the Chinese fairytale of Chang’e, the memory flitting by from a mythology elective. She steals a pill of immortality and is banished to the moon for all eternity. Her husband Hou Yi watches her from earth anyway. Hajime wonders if the trajectory of their lives is the same as his own, Oikawa always chasing things that cannot be held, trapped on the moon for eternity. Hajime will watch him from earth anyway. Hajime will watch him in Argentina from the TV, watch him lose and lose again until eventually he wins, watch Tooru win everything and anything forever and ever and love him all the same from his view on the ground. But just for a little longer, the moon is far, and they can look at it together.

The cicadas are chirping and the two lay in the grass, sipping the last of their ramune, passing the box of pocky back and forth as they stare at the stars. Hajime stares at the empty bottle like it has answers.

“I wanted to take you to the planetarium, before you left.” He admits, voice gruff. “They have all the shit you like, the constellations and stuff. I wanted you to see them.” He does not say, I wanted to see them together. He does not say, I wanted to capture all of those stars and hang them in your eyes. He does not say, I wanted those eyes full of stars to close for a moment so I could kiss you, find a way to say I love you, hold you, never let you go. But all the love he feels is laced into every word, hoarse with adoration, and he wonders if Oikawa catches it. He doesn’t look over in time to see the setter’s face screw up in tears, flush creeping up his cheeks.

“Fuck.” Tooru mumbles, finding his way into Hajime’s arms just like he always does. “I’m so happy I have you, Iwa-chan. I don’t know how to tell you, I just–” He wipes his eyes, cheek burning against Iwaizumi’s bare collarbones. “Thank you for being the greatest best friend in the whole wide world.”

Hajime feels his stomach twist, but his heart still beats warm and steady and certain that he is home.

“And,” Oikawa murmurs, head nestled against his best friend’s shoulder, “We have all the stars anyone could want right here.”

The silence is almost comfortable, almost perfect, with the boy he loves tucked safely up against his collarbone, brown hair tickling his jaw, the warm summer night brushing up against their skin and soaking through. But Iwaizumi’s skin is being burned everywhere Oikawa touches, where his cheekbone sears against his neck, where his chin surely scorches his bare shoulder through his tank top, where his arm wraps around his back and clings to his side, where their legs tangle oh-so-slightly in the grass. The smolder coalesces into a glassy marble, hot on Iwaizumi’s tongue: I love you. It aches. Everything aches, yearning, hungry for just a little more than he can have, insatiable by nature, stinging around the edges. I love you seems serrated now, thorny and caught in the flesh of his tongue, unable to escape and begging to be released. The silence is almost comfortable. But it hurts, too, clawing its way into his flesh with the longing for just a little more.

Iwaizumi Hajime has never been good with words. Oikawa tries, just like always.

“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa breaks the spiker from his anguished reverie. “Iwa-chan, this isn’t enough.”

Hajime turns his head to examine his face, swallowing the panic that threatens to explode. “Huh? What does that mean?” He says flatly, emotionless, bracing himself for the sting.

“Fuck. That came out wrong, fuck, it’s just, Iwa–” And for the first time, Iwaizumi really sees him. The boy he loves, shaking. Face flushed. Eyes shining. The tremble of his lower lip, moreso on the left side. The goosebumps on his pale forearm even on such a warm night. Oikawa bites his lip, hard, fingers trembling against his best friend’s skin.

“Iwa-chan, you’re the greatest best friend in the entire world, and it’s not enough.”

“I know.” Iwaizumi mumbles after a moment. “Obviously. You have dreams, and there’s Argentina, obviously–”

“No– fuck– I mean–”

Hajime stares at the ground. Hard. “It’s fine, Shittykawa, I get it–” 

He is cut off by a kiss.

Oikawa Tooru crushes his lips into Iwaizumi like he is dying. His fingers find purchase, clinging onto the black tank top, tangling in his hair, finding lines along his jaw, begging, pleading, stay . Let this be okay. His lips are soft against his best friend’s chapped ones and he squeezes his eyes tighter closed than they need to be, too afraid to see. It’s I love you in a thousand ways that neither of them are quite sure how to say. Hajime tangles his fingers in the other boy’s hair, pulling him close, holding all of him, and Tooru is the one to pull away. The one to confess a secret held and kept for as long as he can remember. “Iwa-chan. You are the greatest best friend in the whole wide world, and I don’t want you to be my best friend.” The setter is shaking. Tears threaten.

“I’m in love with you, Iwa-chan.” He whispers. 

Dead silence.

“Tell me it’s stupid.” Oikawa laughs brokenly. “I know it’s stupid, Stupidkawa being stupid, I know, I know– ”

Hajime kisses his best friend again, every cell in his body screaming to pull that boy closer, hold him tighter, cling to him until he never thinks he’s stupid ever again. It’s rough and hungry and confused and scared, and Iwaizumi Hajime has never been good with words but he’s sure he’ll die if he doesn’t say it, sure he’ll explode.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.” Hajime tells him, holding him so close, staring at those big brown eyes. “I’m so fucking in love with you, Oikawa, I love you more than anything.” 

Tooru’s face is pink and sweet and wet with tears and he whispers, “I love you more than anything, too.”

“Can I kiss you again?” Hajime’s voice is rough. He isn’t good with words. He doesn’t know how to say everything he feels and knows to be true. Doesn’t know how to tell Tooru he’s the center of the universe. But he can see in his best friend’s eyes and all the sparkle in them that he already knows.

“Yeah.” Oikawa whispers, and for a moment, everything in the world is right.

So continues the greatest adventure that never truly ends.

______

The new kid moves away from the house across the street when Iwaizumi is eighteen.

There’s no moving van this time. Tooru hugs Hajime tight in front of the blue Iwaizumi house and they hold hands the whole car ride in the backseat. They both do their best not to cry. Change is a part of life, one they’re both well aware of by now. 

Hajime gives the love of his life one last secret kiss in the airport. Their fingers untangle as Oikawa says goodbye, vanishing into a dream. But he’s never really gone. He’ll be scared of stupid things just like always, work himself to the bone just like always, get stupid confessions just like always. Hajime’s prince is becoming a king, and he couldn’t be prouder. And when Tooru has caught every shooting star he’s ever wished on, won everything and flown to the moon a million times, he’ll come running home. Gold medals will hang from his hands and clank together with the sound of victorious return, that thousand-watt smile on his face even after all this time, his hair still soft and shiny as always, milk chocolate eyes still the prettiest sight in the whole world.

Iwaizumi Hajime has never been good with words, but he says I love you at the airport anyway.

And, goodbye.

And, I can’t wait to see you again.

______

I hope u guys liked it! I got so obsessed with telling their story over time and it ended up being thirteen pages long on google docs, font size eleven in the span of about 24 hours lmao.

Also, I'm not 100% sure it's technically six of anything. six ways to say you're my everything just sounded like a cool title. roll with it pls

Thanks for reading !!!

[duckieduccss]

Sleepy heads💤

Quick doodle i made while i decided on what my next big art post should be. (I think i might know *WHO* it might be)

On another note, i thought maybe i should talk about my own headcanons for MY versions of the “Godzilla siblings”:

Minilla’s the older brother while Junior’s the youngest sister (im still keeping trans Junior as canon in my version of events). Minilla does his best to be the best older brother he can be (though not always successful at it). He’s still very scared at being confronted by bigger problems. Even more so when it’s an opportunity to prove he can be strong & look out for his younger sister. Feeling unable to do a lot of things whenever he fails. However, thanks to Junior, he is always shown to be very important to her still. Her constantly encouraging him to never give up & that she’ll always believe in him. This always has helped in boosting his confidence

Junior is very much the opposite where she’s not afraid to speak her mind & help those in need. She’d be more than happy to protect her brother, no matter how small she may be compared to him. In reality, she sees Minilla as being very brave to still keep fighting in improving for her own sake. She looks up to him & ofc loves him very much

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

When it comes to sleeping, Minilla has always struggled with proper sleep. Such as having reoccurring nightmares or simply feeling restless. However being close to Junior & going as far to hugging her in their sleep, always seemed to comfort him in feeling more peaceful & happier. In return it made her feel happy to be close to him as they were. So its pretty common to see them hug while falling asleep to reassure each other that they were safe while they slept alongside Godzilla as well

[I personally like this headcanon & id probably like to go more into the bond these two share as siblings later on ^^]

[libertine-past]

I wanted to do something for Rogue/Gambit week, but all I have is this unfinished *gambit lives* WIP. So here goes.

When the rest of the team finally gets clearance to touch down in Genosha, Rogue is still in her tattered dress, wearing Gambit’s coat, muscling through rubble. They hold her and she barely flinches, as if it’s happening to someone else.

It’s her third day without eating or sleeping—just searching. Clawing.

The last place anyone saw Gambit was at the bar.

Magneto and Madelyne succumbed to the green flash.

The Godzilla sentinel was defeated by one of the dancers in the marketplace, a humble Omega named Exodus.

Mutant art, Rogue considers.

They sift through the fledgling nation’s ashes with the other helpers.

Survivors are found, but not enough.

They freeze in their tracks when a young girl and her winged mother ask the searchers if they’ve seen “the card trick man.”

A shrill gasp. Rogue bolts to her level, holding her shoulders as gently as she can. “When did you see him, sweet thing?”

“At the Xavier. He saved me and my mom. He said ‘be brave, Cher’ and I said ‘I’m not Cher but I know her songs.’”

A blip of a smile breaks through on her lips for the first time in days. “We’re gonna find him, babygirl, I promise.”

This promise carries her until she finds a charred Queen of hearts in the wreckage of the Xavier Regency’s courtyard.

Then she goes feral in her search.

Every now and then she calls out his name. Sometimes it’s barely audible, sometimes she screeches like a tea kettle.

It still was possible he’d been vaporized to a green mist after saving the girl, but her vague awareness of this means little.

If she never accepts it, maybe this effort will never shift from rescue to recovery mode.

Storm moves her knotted hair away from her face. “Rogue, love—you have to stop and rest. Let us take over.” Storm knows this won’t be easy. She remembers Hank’s account of Rogue peeling open the Asteroid escape shuttle like a can of sardines to find Gambit at just the sheer possibility of him being hurt.

Rogue’s shakes her head in a barely visible twitch and clutches the lapels of the coat. “Rogue always comes to Gambit’s rescue,” she quotes, choking on tears. “I know he’s out here. I feel him.”

“As do I. But he needs you to come to your own rescue first.”

Rogue shakes her head with a trembling sniff. “I have to tell him the truth. I don’t care what happens to me if I can’t.”

“We do. We love you. Here.” She hands her a canteen and Rogue submits to it with dribbling gulps. “There. For Remy, right?”

“For Remy.”

The afternoon shadows get longer and Rogue relents to sleeping against Kurt’s blanketed shoulder for a little while, her face streaked with dried tears.

Jubilee accosts them at full speed, her boots kicking up dust. “The telepaths, they found someone alive!”

Rogue’s voice is like static, but audible. “Oh my lord, please.” They rush after the clusters of people standing around the site.

“It’s a low level empath,” Jean says. “Mind is very hard to breach—”

“If that ain’t Gumbo, I’ll eat dirt,” Logan says.

Rogue holds her breath. Jean raises the figure from the wreckage, his white suit battered but intact, his eyes closed as if asleep, his body glowing pink as if charged.

Rogue squeals through her tears with a hand over her mouth, feeling like this is all a fever dream. “He’s—”

”Fascinating,” Hank says. “A latent mutation triggered by duress. A biokinetic shield that protected him from the falling building–”

He doesn’t get to finish as Rogue plows through and bridal carries Remy in her trenchcoated arms, sobbing. He’s breathing, slowly but surely, like he’s suspended in time. “I knew it. Goddamn you, sugar. This is your best trick yet.”

The rest of the team indulges in their own delighted tears. Storm breaks out with a triumphant laugh.

Jubilee flips her glasses over her eyes from the brightness. “How do we wake him up out of the glowy shieldy chrysalis thing?”

Wolverine groans at Rogue, who looks like she’s going to zip herself inside the chrysalis thing. “Uhhgh. Let me guess, with the power of love?”

Morph rolls his white eyes. “We can discuss your affinity for Celine Dion later, Canuck.”

“We have to proceed carefully,” Beast says. “We don’t know the extent of his injuries before the shield kicked in.”

A shield, Rogue muses. The aura around him beckons her, like a certain electromagnetic energy once did.

Her glove drops to the ground.

She follows her sudden instinct and slowly grasps Gambit’s face, spiking up not a single vein, absorbing nothing. Everyone gasps.

“Stars and garters,” Hank says. “Gambit has held the link to nullifying your touch all along.”

“C’mon, Sleepin’ Beauty. Make a gal feel welcome,” she trembles, and kisses his lips tentatively, then with all the determination on this broken island.

And he blinks awake, still glowing.

“…gambit not even gonna question this.”

She pulls him in close by his violet scarf. “Makes two of us. I love you, you damn fool,” she shivers through her tears, kissing him desperately.

And there it is, light as a flutter of cards. Nothing close to a burden.

“Something tells me our friend is never turning that shield off,” Beast says.

[wanderersrest]

An Abbreviated History of Mecha Part 1: The Mighty Atomic Prelude (The 50's and 60's)

Welcome to An Abbreviated History of Mecha anime. Today, we're starting at, as Fraulein Maria would say, at the very beginning. We're taking a quick peak at the beginning of the canon, which means that we're starting back in 1950 (specifically 1952). I should also confess right now: there are two series on here that are demonstrably NOT mecha shows. However, due to their sheer influence on Japanese media as a whole, I feel it is important to bring them up as being honorary mecha shows due to their sheer influence pop culture.

Tetsuwan Atom/Mighty Atom/Astro Boy (1952)

Starting us off is Osamu Tezuka's seminal manga series, Mighty Atom. Known over here in the west as Astro Boy, this series would be what kickstarts a lot of the modern anime and manga industry due to its sheer popularity. Astro Boy would also be one of two series that would be emblematic of how Japanese pop culture would portray the recent use of atomic energy. It should also be worth noting that realizing that Astro technically is a mecha is what got me to start using a broader definition of mecha instead of the classic giant robot definition.

Due to its fame, Mighty Atom has receive multiple adaptations throughout the years. Of note are:

The original 1963 anime.

New Mighty Atom (1980) which updates the series to 1980's animation standards.

The 2003 anime, which does the same, but to the standards of early 2000's anime.

The 2009 CGI movie.

Gojira/Godzilla (1954, honorary mecha series 1)

1954 would also give us Ishiro Honda's Godzilla, the movie that would make tokusatsu-styled live action stories in Japan. Godzilla, alongside RKO's King Kong, would play a large part in popularizing the concept of kaiju. And boy will kaiju play a big part in the history of the mecha canon. As we'll see soon enough, the history of tokusatsu heroes, kaiju, and robots are all intertwined with one another.

Godzilla has starred in numerous movies since the original, but for stories based off of the original there are:

Godzilla Raids Again (1955), a direct sequel.

Godzilla, Mothra, King Ghidorah: All Out Monsters Attack (2001), a Heisei-era production that uses the original '54 Godzilla as a manifestation of the horrors of World War II.

Shin Godzilla (2016), a re-imagining of the original movie set in contemporary times directed by Hideakki Anno.

Godzilla Minus One (2023), the most recent outing inspired in part by GMK.

Tetsujin 28-go/Gigantor (1956)

(Oh hey, this gif again!)

Tetsujin 28-go is the creation of one Mitsuteru Yokoyama and is generally regarded as the grandfather of the giant robot style of mecha. Tetsujin is unique amongst mecha in that it is controlled not by a pilot riding inside of it, but by a little kid with a controller. Tetsujin 28, alongside Mazinger Z, would help to codify a lot of the tropes common to the classic superhero mecha anime that would be prevalent in the 70's. Like Mighty Atom, Tetsujin would receive multiple adaptations throughout the decades.

Shin Tetsujin 28-Go/The New Adventures of Gigantor (1980), which updates Tetsujin's design to look more in line with something like Mazniger Z.

Tetsujin 28-go FX (1992), sporting a radically different look that's more akin to something out of the Brave Franchise.

Tetsujin 28 (2004), a faithful adaptation of the original manga (at least I think it is) directed by Yasuhiro Imagawa.

Cyborg 009 (1964)

Created by Shotaro Ishinomori in 1964, Cyborg 009 is another classic human-sized mecha series. Cyborg 009 would be the first of many hits for Ishinomori, and he will be mentioned again later in this series.

Oh boy... I am not a Cyborg 009 nut, but in terms of adaptations, Cyborg 009 has:

The 1966 Film

The 1980 Film

009 Re:Cyborg (2012)

The Call For Justice Trilogy (2016)

The 1968 Anime

The 1979-1980 Anime

The 2001-2002 Anime (I actually remember when Toonami aired this series!)

Cyborg 009 vs Devilman (2015 OVA)

If you want to follow someone who follows a lot of Shotaro Ishinomori's works, I'd recommend checking out YouTuber Mercury Falcon for more info about Ishinomori.

Ultra Q and Ultraman (1966, honorary mecha series 2)

(The urge to use a gif of Ingraman is strong)

Ultra Q and Ultraman are the first two entries of Tsuburaya's legendary Ultra franchise, with the latter in particular being one of the most famous pop culture icons of all time. Ultraman's influence on Japanese media is so large, that I'll be mentioning it at least once in relation to other series later on.

Ultraman, like Godzilla before him, would get the Hideaki Anno treatment with Shin Ultraman in 2022.

Giant Robo/Johnny Sokko and His Flying Robot (1967)

Another one of Mitsuteru Yokoyama's classic manga series, Giant Robo deserves a mention due to its influence on tokusatsu. Giant Robo would usher in an era of tokusatsu that would rely on using giant robots as the main protagonist.

In terms of adaptations, there are two animated adaptations, but only one will be listed here:

GR: Giant Robo (2007)

If you want to learn a little bit more about the history behind Giant Robo, I'd recommend checking out blunova's video on Giant Robo for more info on this important series.

Conclusion

As the 60's would lead way into the 70's, we would see a lot more live action tokusatsu series involving giant robots. Of course, this would be untenable due to how expensive it was to do tokusatsu effects for television. However, one robot would appear in animation that would change everything.

(Read in the voice of Tessho Genda) AND ITS NAME IS...!!!!

[icemavslastbraincell]

We got Godzilla Minus One Minus Color for a week so obviously I had to go and watch it on my day off. But the Icemav brainrot has completely taken me over and I simply can't stop thinking about the Icemav potential with this kind of AU.

Like Ice coming back from war, traumatized and wartorn only to discover that his parents (or siblings or whoever) are gone due to some horrific events. Trying to rebuild his life, trying to move past everything that happened to him in the war and suddenly in barges this short, chaotic, green eyed gremlin of a man and a small child that doesn't belong to the man but is his responsibility per his promise to his two best friends. Ice doesn't want them around at first; Maverick and Bradley are two extra mouths he can't afford to feed not to mention the fact that the reason they first was because Ice was in town and Maverick quite literally slammed into him and shoved Bradley into his arms before running off, cops chasing after him. Not exactly an ideal meeting.

But Ice has never been one to turn his back on children in need, even if it means he has to keep Maverick around because he and Bradley are a package deal. So Ice lets them stay. He finds a job, a pretty well paying one, and they rebuild their lives, bit by bit. Maverick finds a job in a nearby town and there's something budding between them, though neither man is brave enough to put a name to it quite yet. Ice starts to think that maybe, just maybe, he can start to move past everything.

And then disaster strikes. Suddenly, Mav is gone and with it, part of Ice's will to live. He knows he has to take care of Bradley, it's what Mav would've wanted him to do, but how is he supposed to do this without Maverick? How is he supposed to keep living with this gaping hole in his chest, this crippling sadness that hovers over him and suffocates him at every chance?

So he throws himself into helping after the disaster. If he can't bring Maverick back, the least he can do is make sure whatever that thing was pays for taking him from Ice. He leaves early on the day that everything is scheduled to go down, leaves an envelope with money for Bradley and a letter to their neighbor, Viper, explaining what's going on and to use the money for raising Bradley.

And then he doesn't die. He miraculously survives, the monster seemingly defeated, and when he gets back to shore, he finds Viper and Bradley. Viper gives him a stern look, one that definitely means that they're gonna be having a talk later, and shoves a telegram in his hand. He's confused for a split second then reads it.

Mav is alive.

Mav is *alive*.

*Mav is alive*.

He gathers Bradley from Viper and rushes to the hospital as fast as he can, trying desperately not to cry on the way there. Bradley is confused, not quite understanding what's going on but nevertheless willing to follow Ice wherever.

They rush up the stairs to Mav's room, Ice far too impatient to wait for the elevator, and Ice bursts through the door, the handle stopping just shy of slamming into the wall.

Sure enough, there on the bed is his short, chaotic, green eyed gremlin, bandages on his head and arm in a sling. Despite how much pain he's surely in, a soft smile rests on Maverick's lips when he looks up and sees Ice and Bradley.

Ice can't help it; the tears that have been stinging his eyes for the past twenty minutes finally slip out and race down his cheeks as short, hiccuping breaths leave his lungs, shattering them each time they escape.

"Is your war finally over?" Mav asks in a soft, barely there voice.

And Ice buckles. He has enough control over his body to not drop Bradley on the floor, instead placing him on the bed next to Mav's leg, and collapses against Maverick. He nods and buries his face into the meat of Mav's thigh. Hands come up, one carding through his hair and the other one running along his back. The touches are comforting, welcome, even if they make him cry more.

He doesn't care about anything else but this right here: his family, back together again, finally whole once more.

Anyway, I'll probably turn this into a full fic at some point, I just really wanted to get this out there bc it was literally all I could think about as I watched G-1 for the fifth time

[grandeoatmilklatte]

HL Characters and their Horror Movie Subgenres

+ some horror movies that fit said subgenre!

I'm back with some Horror movie head cannons for our favorite HL characters! A great way to kick of spooky season!

This is a sequel of sorts to my HL Characters and their Horror Movie Tropes post, so feel free to check that one out too if you haven't already! Please know that I love all of these characters, so please don't be offended by any of my assessments if they seem "mean". This is all in good fun and of course just my opinion.

Ominis Gaunt - Revenge Horror:

Who doesn’t love a good Horror movie where the main character gets revenge on anyone who hurt them? A good revenge movie feels cathartic for both the character and the audience, and makes you feel for the character, even when they’re doing unsavory things. While we never see Ominis enact any kind of revenge on anyone, and although this concept could apply to Seb as well, I’m giving this to Omi because he has enough issues in his life that he’s very capable of going crazy and enacting revenge on his family. Some movies that come to mind for Ominis are Carrie, Revenge, and Midsommar - all commonly considered “good for her” movies where the female lead gets revenge on those who harm her (but is Midsommar really a “good for her” movie in the end? That’s a topic for another day.) Bonus: Speaking of his family, although this is definitely not a subgenre, fucked up family horror movies fit Ominis well also - Hereditary, The Hills Have Eyes, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre come to mind. 

Sebastian Sallow - Psychological Horror:

There’s an argument to be made that Seb is manipulative throughout the game. Begging the MC to talk to the keepers to help with Anne’s illness, calling the MC ignorant for seeking help from a goblin only to immediately take it back, justifying murder, etc. This gives him the makings of psychological horror. Psychological Horror leaves you tense, confused, and wondering until the very end if you’re being played or not. Some movies that come to mind here are Black Swan, Watcher (Not THE Watcher like the movie about the house), and The Lodge. Bonus: definitely not a real subgenre, but sibling/twin related Horror fits Seb also - such as Goodnight Mommy and The Uninvited, which are also Psychological Horror movies that involve twins/siblings. 

Garreth Weasley - Horror Comedy:

As mentioned in my previous post, Garreth is the comic relief friend, so it seems only appropriate that his subgenre is Horror Comedy. He’s the type to crack a joke during a tense moment. Horror Comedies can sometimes be a little bit scary, but also funny and lighthearted. Movies like Shaun of the Dead, Ready or Not, and Cabin in the Woods fall into this subgenre, all varying in their ratio of horror vs comedy. Bonus entry: mad scientist Horror movies like Frankenstein and Reanimator, cause let’s face it, Garreth would totally bring something back from the dead in a lab (accidentally or not).

Leander Prewitt - Found Footage:

No Found Footage movie is complete without some incredibly brave dummy doing something or going somewhere they shouldn’t, and bringing a camera along for the ride. Leander, high off that Gryffindor pride and eager to prove himself would absolutely be all in for this. Coupled with the nervous shaky hands he would absolutely have and refusal to let go of the camera no matter how impractical it gets to keep running with it, and you have your perfect Found Footage film. Movies like Gonjiam Haunted Asylum and Grave Encounters fit Leander perfectly. 

Poppy Sweeting - Creature Feature:

This feels pretty obvious, but with her love of beasts, Poppy is of course a Creature Feature. To her, the creature can do no wrong, and the humans deserve whatever they get. Movies like Godzilla, Kong Kong, and Jaws (I said what I said. Jaws is a horror movie) all fit this subgenre. 

Imelda Reyes - Slasher Horror:

Imelda is brutal and cutthroat competitive, making her a perfect Slasher film. Whether she’s the Final Girl, or the Slasher herself, she’ll make for a killer good time! The older, campy-er Slashers are definitely more her style. Movies like Slumber Party Massacre and Black Christmas (1978) fit her. 

Amit Thakkar - Space Horror:

This might not technically be a subgenre, but let’s be real, what’s scarier than being completely alone in space? Amit would definitely say nothing is scarier. The obvious movie choice here is the Alien franchise. In my last post, I almost made Amit’s character trope be the Final Girl, with Ripley as his character choice but I changed it cause there were too many Final Girls, but Amit would absolutely vibe with Ripley. 

Natty Onai - Body Horror:

Natty’s animagus ability of course falls into the subgenre of body horror, specifically any body horror involving someone turning into an animal. Although we always see animagus transformations being seamless, imagine if they weren’t. Imagine having to watch a human transform into an animal slowly and grotesquely. Movies like The Fly and American Werewolf in London are what come to mind for Natty due to their horrific depictions of transforming into an animal. 

✨And now, please enjoy some silly bonus entries!✨

MC - Possession Horror:

Why is MC so overpowered? Surely the MC is possessed and this is the work of a demon. No normal person should be this powerful with virtually no explanation, magical or not. Is it ever explained why MC had ancient magic to begin with? No, no it’s not. MC probably messed with a ouija board and got themselves possessed. Movies like The Exorcist and The Exorcism of Emily Rose fit here well cause our MC is in desperate need of an exorcism.

Richard Jackdaw - Paranormal/Ghost Horror:

Duh. Movies include Paranormal Activity and The Others. 

Duncan Hobhouse - N/A:

The guy is afraid of a puffskein, for crying out loud. There's no way he's getting a subgenre. His movie would be Hotel Transylvania.

[inferno-0]

Choleric

────────────────────────────

Just the attitude of the Titans to your temperament.

Let me remind you: Choleric is active, impatient and hot-tempered extroverts.

────────────────────────────

Godzilla

* Being a serious and calm creature, Kaiju is not used to your persona. He was amazed at your courage in front of him.

* He liked your extroversion to some extent. Unlike him as a loner, you literally communicated with every creature in your path. But the best quality he has revealed is to be a Leader.

You literally managed to chase away the skullsaurs that interfered with him, of course, it was not without escape, but still.

A Brave Man.

* Wanted to chase you away, but you were too persistent.

*You are now his Watchdog.

* To be Choleric is to be aggressive to some degree. To be honest, it sometimes amuses him. If you were a Titan, you'd definitely start fighting him to the end. But I like to watch how some little guy tries to move the tip of his tail and shouts something very bad at him.

* Thankful for keeping the raging gulls away from his dorsal plates while he swims. Will wait for the moment when you banish the Monarch from his eyes.

Mothra/Mosura

* She likes your activity and perseverance. You're eager to learn anything and everything that Mothra is amused about. But your short temper . . .

* It's not that Mothra is annoyed, she's worried about you. After all, the argument gets out of control at some point.

Your impatience may be misplaced somewhere, and the Titan tries to calm you down so that there are no unnecessary problems.

* Your irritability frightens her.

Even though it's several thousand times bigger than you.

* Sometimes he presses you to his fur, hoping that you will calm down and stop driving anger to the whole world.

* Tries not to glow too much at the sight of you. Since there was a moment where you accidentally ordered her to turn off her flashlight out of annoyance, to which Mothra choked.

I think she'll give you a lecture.

* She also appreciates your leadership skills.

Rodan

* Someone, help him.

* I have never met such a person as you in my life. No, of course he is. Partially. But this Titan is compared to you, forgive me, Bug. Your audacity amused him. Until you started throwing rocks at his beak and eyes, to which the Titan was ready to go back to the volcano and anywhere else from you.

* His ego has been suppressed since that time. You're not afraid of him.

And now he thinks: Are you stupid or are you really driven by something?

* He was surprised when he found out that you wanted to be friends with him. Okay, instilling fear throughout the city wasn't good, he needed communication. Of course, your character is not great, but at some moments he is ready to laugh at you heartily. Especially when you are the one who gets into trouble.

* And now let's forget about aggression, let's remember about Leadership qualities:

"Wake Up, Silly Bird"

"Thank you so much for this morning, kind little creature," ─ grunts Rodan as he emerges from his warm nest.

* No, he sometimes likes your mindset to boss others around. Although, he has frequent flashbacks about it.

King Ghidorah

* Very brave. Very brave.

* Three heads could have hit you to certain death right away, but something caught on them. Your aggression was wonderful, of course it's a pity to hear it from a person.

* Throwing sticks and anything else you can get your hands on when he literally saved your life for five minutes.

Only these five minutes still last for some reason.

* Okay, it them off, but it's still funny. A brave little king. Ghidorah kept you as a pet, but only because you weren't a coward.

* Ichi is proud of your anger at other creatures. He likes the way you command them.

Ni has the same relationship to you as Ichi, but is only watching for fun.

San is a little disturbed by your behavior, believing you to resemble his brother Ichi.

*Sometimes they deliberately bring you into conflict (mostly Ni) to laugh at your face.

Although, in the absence of an instinct for self-preservation, you give them a savory response, to which the Titan begins to retreat.

* Humans and other Kaiju find both of you insufferable. Godzilla is even willing to ask people to take you away from there, as Ghidorah's yells from another argument can be heard even in his nest.

King kong

* You didn't look like Jia. Jia is calm and understanding, and you are like a tomboy, irritated about everything. He still thinks about how his little human friend made friends with you.

* Jia introduced you as a good person, but with a strong character that you just have to accept. Kong had expected anything but this. Although he appreciated the ability to command others. You'd be good at managing your own tribe, if you had one. But given the Skullsaurs that are on the run all over the island from you, humans would have joined them themselves. Your aggression was out of bounds.

* Kong sometimes worries about your recklessness. You're not someone who sits still like Jia. You're always going somewhere. And he doesn't understand what you need. And Jia, who is used to all this, just says to calm down.

* Kong has never been in conflict with you. He tries to stay on the edge of patience.

The truth is trying..

He likes that enthusiasm, but please stop. Otherwise, he'll put you in this flying object that people use.

────────────────────────────

[hrodvitnon]

(I already sent this before, but I don't know if it got eaten by the void or not, so Imma send it again just in case.)

At some point, both Godzilla and Mothra hear of how Trapper's been treating the apes (as well as other titans) for checkup, more specifically, dental care. Shin has too many overgrown teeth, and he is actually growing new ones, which causes him a lot of pain and discomfort. For some reference, imagine it's a bit like on how the Deviljho grows way too many teeth to the point that they even got teeth on their chin (yes, those aren't chin spikes, those are teeth)

So Godzilla and Mothra seek Trapper out so that he can take a look at Shin too. Though of course, they only do this once Shin fully consents to it and there's no problems leaving any time if he gets too uncomfortable.

Cue Trapper checking on Shin while in a full hazmat suit, while both Godzilla and Mothra stay by Shin's side as emotional support.

Oh, it did get sent the first time! Inbox has just been popping lately, so things will get buried, sorry! Huh, been an age since I played MHS2 but that name sounds familiar, gimme a sec... *one google later* Oh yeah, that critter!

Trapper: Oh hey, big fella! You're looking much better than the last pictures I saw of you, you're really growing into a handsome lad!

Shin: *confused noise* (What is he saying?)

Mothra: (He says you're very handsome.)

Goji: (And he's damn right!)

Trapper: Oh bugger me, that's a lot of chompers... gums and flesh are swollen... I hate to say it, big man, but we might have to put you under anesthesia to get all the excess teeth out. You might feel a pinch but it won't hurt, I promise! You'll just be sleepy for a while!

Shin: *concerned groaning*

Goji: (He's going to give you something that'll make you sleep.)

Shin: (Something... pointy? Hurt?)

Mothra: (Just a pinch. No hurt.)

Shin: (...don't want to see.)

[Mothra rests on Shin's head and covers his eyes with her wings.]

Goji: (Better?)

Shin: (...a little...)

Trapper: There's a brave lad, just like mum and pop. Easy does it now... careful... there you go. You're braver than I am, you know that? Getting lab work done still gives me the willies! Now we're just gonna let it work through the system, aaaaaand... night-night, sweet prince!

[The next thing Shin knows, he blinks and suddenly the procedure is done. In actuality it took most of a whole day.]

Mothra: (See? You did so well!)

Goji: *happy grunt* (That's my boy!)

Shin: (...ah fink fereth fomefim fummy wif mah mouf...)

[zahri-melitor]

What are your hopes and fears about the upcoming DCU?

Hmmmm. This is one of those things where I'm still waiting to get a bit more direction about the next upcoming universe-wide event.

My hopes?

Well, I'd like to see DC find space in the roster for at least one (1) Aqua character to be appearing regularly in a continuing title, even if they don't spin up a new Aquaman title. It's frankly embarrassing that the only things the characters have been seen in is limited run team books, B-stories in anthologies, crossovers, and movie tie-in singles for almost two years, particularly when they just had a movie.

I want a continuation for Hawkgirl, thank you.

I want to see a main-universe Justice League book back (I don't count vs Godzilla vs Kong). It doesn't HAVE to be a JLA; it could be a JLD or a JLI (or even a JLQ though JLQ is mostly a stupid joke they haul out for Pride), I just think the current Titans run is underwhelming as the premier team book.

I want to see a teen or young-adult roster team book, to use literally any of the dozens of underused characters right now in the 14-21 bracket. I would also prefer it not to be a Lost Children book (though the likelihood of that seems to be going down, given apparently Johns is going exclusive elsewhere once the current JSA run finishes up). I also would like for the team leader on the book NOT to be a Robin.

I would really like to see Action Comics return to an A,B,C story layout that's focused on Superfam broadly, and I would like to see Detective Comics join it once Ram V's run is finished for the Batfam, if Brave and the Bold is going to continue avoiding actually using BatFAM characters. Both families support multiple titles but also at least a dozen prominent characters readers want to see each. Use that space to tell stories with them.

Blue Beetle brings Dani Garrett back and has her meet Victoria Kord and they hate each other.

Someone spins up a team that consists of Renee Montoya returning as the Question, Kate Spencer, Cameron Chase and Sasha Bordeaux. After creating the perfect Rucka-bait he comes back and writes me a maxi-series of all of these characters having adventures together, with Director Bones growling at them as Waller is currently too evil and them all largely ignoring him to thump heads together. If they really can't tempt Rucka, give it to Marc Andreyko. (I am aware this is a pipedream, but join me!)

My fears?

Harley Quinn stays on Birds of Prey

This upcoming Waller event is even more character-destroying nonsense that fails to recognise her complexity (oh I know, I'm already braced)

Tim continues to not be anchored onto at least one of the Bat books as a supporting character

Tom King stays on Wonder Woman for an extended run

Someone decides we need another Joker event

Anyone tries to push the reset button too hard in the upcoming event. Currently they've got most characters pretty stable and a lot of pre-boot revival characterisation happening. I really don't want extra multiversal shenanigans right now.