#frank Will look at someone way above his pay grade and go 'yeah i can take em'

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Frank! fantasy flavor!

rambles:

i really wanted to blend that monk-class inspiration w/ Frank's personal vibe... i like to think that i Succeeded!

i turned his tie into a sort of brooch since, yk. bowties aren't all that Fantastical. they miss the style. also i think they'd be more comfortable with something smaller since he's very active and needs a wide range of maneuverability

i bet Eddie or someone wheedled them into adding the leather shoulder pauldrons - leather to keep it a bit more flexy, and also. it just looks Cool!

figuring out what would replace his vest was tough. i didn't want them to be entirely unprotected, but i couldn't give him straight armor. though i will admit! a sort of tight-fitting crop top was Considered! but i landed on a gambeson vest as the best fit - comfortable, flexible, a Vest, while providing some level of protection! also, gambesons are quilted, which fits Frank's diamond-checkered vest!

ive already mentioned that one of my favorite outfit things is Flowy Pants Tucked Into Boots, so... that choice wasn't very character driven. except the boots are a tall ankle wrap - for that extra stability and strength! their shoes are pretty flexible and are only a few steps away from being slippers.

and the half-skirt - open skirt? - thing (still don't know what its called) is purely some self indulgence. i think Frank looks great in skirts!! also imagining him Throwing Down w/ the added flair of the skirt... damn. it'd probably help confuse enemies too - what're they gonna do next? who knows! the skirt is in the way and adding extra Movement!

i like to think that his knife is either in a sheath attached to the back of the belt, or they have it on their thigh (under the skirt) like Wally's bag. he probably never uses it... punching is the way to go for Frank methinks. it's probably reserved for cutting ropes and fruit

speaking of punching.... wrist wraps! inspired by boxing gauze! pads his knuckles, keeps his wrist compressed, its the best choice for physical combat. though the wrapped knuckles probably always have blood showing through anyway... or no yeah it's mostly other people's blood...

as for scars - Frank probably has quite the collection! i imagine that they've been picking fights since a young age, and in such a dangerous world he probably got hit a Lot until they learned how to hit back. and hit back Well. still, i wanted to give him a cool face scar with a very lame backstory - a book with a crisp, sharp spine corner fell off a high shelf and bonked them in the face at juuuust the right angle <3 he probably stays very fucking quiet about it which makes everyone think there's some intense traumatic backstory behind it. there isn't. Frank's just embarrassed.

closing note: i imagine that Frank has zero magic. literally none. cannot wield it for shit cannot utilize it. he's just like Howdy fr

[carry-the-sky]

you were a kindness when i was a stranger

summary

“Sleep on it,” Karen tells him. “If you’re still not feeling it by tomorrow, just shoot me a text and let me know.” She cracks a grin. “Don’t worry, there’s a pile of headline-making material sitting on my desk if this falls through.”

Curtis takes her advice and really thinks it over. Ultimately, it comes down to fear—his. And he refuses to let it drag him down. If he can’t practice what he’s preaching, he shouldn’t be running a group at all.

He texts her first thing in the morning: Hi Karen, it’s Curtis. I’m in.

chapter one | chapter two

Curtis got a concussion once as a kid—went headfirst over his bike’s handlebars after taking a corner too fast. Got his bell rung pretty good, even with a helmet. He remembers feeling more dazed than anything, like someone had stuffed his skull with packing peanuts.

Frank Castle showing up out of the blue for the first time in six months has a similar effect.

Curtis got a concussion once as a kid—went headfirst over his bike’s handlebars after taking a corner too fast. Got his bell rung pretty good, even with a helmet. He remembers feeling more dazed than anything, like someone had stuffed his skull with packing peanuts.

Frank Castle showing up out of the blue for the first time in months has a similar effect.

Curtis knows he should probably say something, but his head is empty, nothing but static. The words just aren’t there.

Frank pushes to his feet. He looks a hell of a lot calmer than Curtis feels, but then Curtis sees his trigger finger tap-tap-tapping away at his side, and he can’t help but feel a small pinch of satisfaction. Let the bastard sweat a bit��Curtis is the furthest thing from inclined to make this any easier on him.

“How’s it goin’?” Frank says, like they’re just casually catching up over lunch, and Curtis almost laughs aloud. This whole thing is surreal; Frank, here, in one piece. His voice even sounds normal again.

That’s not the only thing that’s different. Curtis can tell that Frank’s face is a little fuller, free of those purple-blue shadows that seem to permanently lurk under his eyes. He’s gone full Pete-beard again, and he’s traded in the black hoodie for a flannel and jeans. He looks—ordinary. If Curtis didn’t know him, he wouldn’t look twice if he passed Frank on the street.

Curtis breathes deep, lets it out nice and slow. “What the hell are you doing here, Frank?”

“Wanted to say hello,” the other man answers, hiking his shoulders slightly. “Figured you wouldn’t shoot me in a church.”

Curtis does laugh at that, clipped and hollow. “Wouldn’t be so sure about that, man. You’re definitely testing my resolve.”

“I know I’m a jackass showin’ up here, Curt—”

“Got that right,” Curtis mutters.

“Hey,” Frank says, voice going a little rough. “Five minutes, yeah? Give me five minutes, and if you wanna throw my ass out after that, you be my guest.”

Curtis shakes his head. “As much as I’d enjoy that, your timing is shit, Frank. I got a reporter from the Bulletin who’s gonna be here any second—”

Frank’s eyes sharpen. “Reporter?”

“Yeah, so if you don’t want your face plastered all over the front page, I suggest you get the hell out of here.”

“Who—”

“Hey, Curtis, sorry I’m a little late. Traffic was terrible—”

Curtis’ eyes snap up. Karen stands in the doorway, frozen as a statue. She’s staring straight at Frank.

Shit. She might recognize him. The beard and flannel are a flimsy smokescreen at best; Frank’s face has graced the front page of that paper of hers more than once. Curtis can almost feel the wheels spinning as his brain kicks into high gear, already working out how to get Frank out of this, how to explain away the fuckin’ Punisher standing here talking to him in the middle of the afternoon. Karen’s a good person, decent, but she’s also good at her job. There’s no way she turns a blind eye to this. He has to think of something—

“Frank,” she breathes.

Curtis’ thoughts grind to a halt.

Because—she clearly does know him, but not in the way Curtis was expecting. The way she says his name, soft with disbelief—

For the second time today, Curtis feels like he’s walked into a fever dream.

He glances at Frank, and the man’s got a busted up expression on his face, like one of those abstract paintings that looks like something and nothing all at once.

“Karen,” he says, voice grating over the word, and shit, he sounds more torn up than he looks. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, choke-off like the words are stuck there—then his jaw locks and his gaze ricochets to the ground, the wall, the ground again. Curtis can see his hands shaking from here.

Whatever the hell this is, it’s way above his pay grade. Curtis shakes his head again and starts unstacking chairs from where they hang against the wall. “You should leave before everyone gets here,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at Karen. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.

He knows the fuckin’ feeling.

“Hey,” Curtis says, and her head snaps in his direction. “We still good?” 

Her gaze wobbles, darts to Frank and then back. “Yeah, of course. We’re good.” Slowly, she moves from the doorway, brushing past Frank like he’s not even there.

“Jesus christ,” Frank curses under his breath. He reaches for her. “Karen, this isn’t—”

But whatever he was going to say is lost as voices filter in from the hallway, growing steadily louder. Curtis swallows the bubble of hysterical laughter that’s rising in his throat. This day has already gone sideways; might as well let go and let God, as his pop always used to say.

No one notices Frank, at first. A couple people—Lydia included—greet Karen enthusiastically as they enter the room; the rest settle into the regular routine of milling about at the coffee table.

Rahul is the one who finally spots him. “Pete?” he gapes. “Shit, man, it’s good to see you! Where you been?”

That gets everyone’s attention. Within the span of a few seconds, Frank has about half a dozen people crowding around him, clapping him on the back and peppering him with questions about how he’s doing, what he’s been up to. Frank pastes on a shaky smile and gives the small talk a good effort, but his eyes keep skittering to where Karen’s arranging the chairs in a wide circle. Curtis can’t remember the last time he saw Frank look so uncomfortable; he’s wound tense as a coil, all potential energy with nowhere to go.

Curtis almost feels bad for him. Almost.

“You’re staying for group, right?” someone asks, and this time Frank locks eyes with Curtis.

Curtis shrugs as if to say your call. It’s not like he can throw him out in front of everyone. Beyond that—honestly, he’s relieved. Beneath the layers of hurt and anger is the one thing Curtis has shied away from acknowledging: his fear that maybe this time, Frank stayed dead.

Thankfully, the man seems to have nine lives. And right now, he looks like he’d like nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear.

Against his better judgment, Curtis throws him a bone.

“Pete just dropped by to say hello. You were on your way out, right?” he asks, fixing Frank with a look that he hopes conveys what he’s thinking: take the hint, man.

There’s a ripple of disappointment, but everyone seems to buy it. Frank threads his way over the Curtis, and his relief is almost palpable.

“Thanks, Curt,” he says.

“You’re running up a hell of a tab, Frank.” Curtis pinches the bridge of his nose, already regretting what he’s about to say. “You remember that bar over on 12th? After group—I’ll give you one hour. And you’re buying.”

Frank smirks. “Fair enough.” 

His eyes flick across the room; Karen’s been carefully avoiding looking over here, but it’s like she can feel the weight of his gaze. Curtis sees it, the moment their eyes meet.

Frank’s face opens up like a book, eyes wide and bright. Curtis has never seen him look this vulnerable; even as long as they’ve been friends, he’s always kept the softest parts of himself tucked away. It makes Curtis feel like he’s intruding on something intimate.

Then someone’s saying Karen’s name, and the moment splinters. Frank ducks his head, already sliding the mask back on, and slips out the door.

.

Group passes uneventfully. The conversation picks up from where they left things last week, and aside from injecting a few questions here and there, Curtis is mostly an observer. If he’s being honest, he really enjoys the weeks he can just sit back and let the group carry itself. Makes him feel like it’s bigger than any one person, like it can go on without him being in the driver’s seat.

Karen is quiet through most of the meeting, definitely more reserved than last week. When the hour is up, she tells Curtis she’ll be in touch, thanks him again for having her, and then manages to duck out before anyone notices she’s gone. 

Curtis knows it’s none of his business, but he can’t help wondering who she is to Frank. She’s more than an acquaintance, that much is for damn sure. And Frank clearly cares for her. Curtis lets his curiosity simmer, carrying him all the way from the church to Sal’s dive bar.

Frank’s already there when he arrives. True to his word, he’s ordered the first round; he raises his beer up in greeting as Curtis slides onto the bar stool next to him.

“Got you somethin’ a bit stronger,” Frank says, nodding at Curtis’ glass.

Curtis takes a swig and tastes jack and coke. He glances down at his watch. “You’re on the clock, Frank. One hour.”

Frank huffs out a laugh. “Shit, where do I start?”

“How about Karen?” Curtis says. “What was that back at the church?”

Even in the dim bar light, Frank’s eyes flint over. “Long story.”

“Give me the spark notes version.”

Frank taps his thumb against his beer, pointedly avoiding Curtis’ eyes. Then he pushes back in his seat slightly. “Alright, you win. You remember my trial? Karen was on my legal team. She was the one who started digging into what happened to Maria and the kids. All the shit that’s gone down since then—she got caught up in some of it.”

Curtis takes another drink, processing. “And let me guess, you”—he holds his fingers up as air quotes—“pushed her away to keep her safe.”

Frank tips his beer back, hiding a grin. “Guess I deserved that, huh?”

“You’re one predictable son of a bitch, Frank.” He glances sidelong at his friend. “You gonna apologize to her for whatever it is you did?”

The way Frank’s face falls is answer enough. Curtis knows that expression well; whatever happened between the two of them is eating him up inside.

“I’m tired, Curt,” he finally says, each word ragged. “I’m so goddamn tired. All the blood and bullshit—” Frank’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Woke up one morning just sick of all of it. Started thinking about the kids, about Maria—if they could see me, Curt—”

“Don’t do that to yourself, man,” Curtis cuts in. He knows how fiercely Frank loved his family; hearing him tear himself up wondering what they’d think of him now sits a little funny in his gut.

Frank meets his gaze head on. “I’m sorry, Curtis. I know that might not mean shit anymore, not coming from me, but there it is. All the shit I put you through—I never meant for it to go as far as it did. You gotta know that.”

It’s Curtis’ turn to laugh. “I don’t know that. Hell, sometimes—sometimes it seems like you like it when shit hits the fan. You like being backed into a corner, fighting your way out.”

“Yeah, you might be right about that. Still sorry I dragged you into it.”

They drink in silence for a few minutes. It’s a weeknight, so the bar is mostly quiet, just the low thrum of conversation and a thin crackle of music leaking from the radio behind the bar. Curtis can almost pretend that they’re just two friends catching up over a drink, talking about trivial shit like work and the weather and who’s going to the playoffs.

The thing is, Curtis isn’t quite ready to forgive Frank. It’s gonna take more than one night at Sal’s to mend the rift between them. But maybe Frank’s not looking for forgiveness; maybe what he needs tonight is a friend, a brother. Someone who loves him even when they’re pissed as hell at him.

Curtis thinks he can do that.

“So,” he says, eyeing Frank knowingly. “When’re you gonna call her?”

Frank flicks his eyes over, mouth pinching into a line. “Not too sure Karen wants to hear from me, especially after today.”

Curtis shakes his head. “Thought your wallowing asshole days were behind you, man. It’s time to gather your rosebuds.”

Frank snorts. “Quoting old English poetry at me now, huh?”

“You bet your ass. I live for all that carpe diem shit. You say you hung up the vest, right? You’re done with that? Then prove it. You got one life, Frank, so go live it.”

Frank dips his head to the floor. When he looks up again, his eyes are a little wet. “I’m scared, Curt.”

“Shit, Frank, that’s all anyone is. We’re all scared. The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it.” Curtis reaches over and clasps Frank’s shoulder. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Frank bobs his head, but Curtis can tell he still can’t quite see it. The man’s been punishing himself for so long; it’s all he thinks he deserves. Curtis has seen enough war and trauma to know that sometimes there’s no coming back from that ledge. Frank has to make that choice himself. He might not be ready yet, but he’s here in this bar instead of out on the streets, and that’s not nothing.

Frank blinks, then tilts his head to squint at Curt’s watch. “Hour’s almost up. Deal’s a deal, yeah?” He slaps a few bills down on the bar and starts to stand.

Curtis holds his almost-empty glass up. “I could go for one more round.”

“Yeah?” Frank asks, and the word cracks a bit.

Curtis feels something loosen up in his chest. “Yeah, man.”

Frank sits back down, and it feels like a step forward.

.

The article runs a few days later. Karen calls to give him a heads up, but the anticipation still jolts down his spine as he thumbs through the paper to find it. Curtis reads it through once, his throat going a little tight as he reads quotes from the vets about how group feels like a family, how it’s helped them find their way back to normal after coming home. Karen’s writing is the backbone of the whole thing, capturing the group’s essence without bleeding into the melodramatic.

He reads it again, then gives her a call.

“Anything interesting in the paper today?” she says when she answers.

Curtis huffs. “Funny.”

“What did you think?”

“I’m a little overwhelmed,” Curtis admits. “But mostly thrilled that it’s out there. These guys deserve it.”

“Agreed,” Karen says. “And so do you.”

Curtis doesn’t know what to say to that. Group always felt like something he needed to do, a way to reclaim his trauma instead of succumbing to it. He’s never needed or wanted any recognition for it.

“Thanks, Karen,” he finally manages. “And hey, if you ever need something to do on Thursdays, you know where to find us.”

“Even after last week?” She says it lightly enough, but even over the phone Curtis hears the slight strain in her voice. “I felt awful for leaving so quickly.”

“Hey, I get it. Bit of an exciting day.”

She laughs dryly. “You could say that.” A pause, and then— “Do you and Frank keep in touch, or—” she cuts off, and for a second Curtis wonders if the call dropped. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was completely unprofessional. Forget I said anything.”

Curtis knows he should leave it at that, but the tinge of resignation in her words is all too familiar. He remembers what he told Frank all those months ago, hoping this time it might sink in. Disappointed but unsurprised when it didn’t.

People are gonna care about you whether you want them to or not, Frank.

Karen’s one of the good ones. He knows that Frank knows it, too—and maybe that’s what pushes him to say something now, his better judgment be damned.

“Look, Karen, if I’m overstepping, you tell me to shove it, but—until last week, I hadn’t seen or heard from Frank in months. I know what it’s like to worry about the guy—hell, I wanted him to come back so I could kick his ass myself.”

That pulls a small laugh from the other end of the phone. “Get in line.”

“Yeah, so you get it,” Curtis says through a grin. “I love Frank like a brother, but the man drives me batshit more often than not.”

Karen sighs softly. “I want more for him, you know? More than—whatever the hell he thinks he’s doing out there.”

“I think, deep down, below all the bullshit—I think he wants that, too.”

Silence stretches over the line. “You’re a good friend,” Karen finally says. “It’s nice to know that Frank has one of those.”

“Hey, likewise,” Curtis replies, and he means it. He’s not sure he’ll ever forgive Frank if he lets this woman slip through his grasp.

“I’ll see you around?”

“Absolutely. I’m serious about group—don’t be a stranger.”

Curtis hangs up feeling lighter than he has in weeks. He’s still tempering his expectations for Frank—they’ve been down this road before—but maybe there’s a way out of the woods. Maybe they can both get back to the business of living.

He doesn’t put much stock in new-age bullshit like manifestation or destiny, but it does feel a little prophetic when Frank texts him later that afternoon: Nice article.

Yeah, I thought so, Curtis types back, followed up with a rose emoji just to see if Frank will take the bait.

He doesn’t have to wait long. His phone buzzes after a few seconds, and Curtis laughs when he reads Frank’s response, knowing the hit landed.

Shut up, Curt.

.

“—telling you, man, it’s a classic.”

“Yeah, maybe if you’re a middle-aged white lady.”

“Excuse me?” Lydia counters, spreading her arms. “Do I look middle-aged or white to you?” 

Rahul just shrugs and leans back in his seat. The conversation tonight had started simply enough before quickly devolving into an argument about books, of all things. Lydia had offered up a few that resonate with her, one of them being Pride and Prejudice. Rahul had looked at her like she was an alien, and now here they are.

“If it helps, I’ve read it too,” Curt cuts in. “I’ll admit it’s a little dense at first, but it’s a classic for a reason. Ultimately, it’s about acceptance. Not judging someone before you’ve gotten a chance to know them. That’s something all of us in this room can relate to, right?”

There are some begrudging nods, but Rahul shakes his head. “Nah, man. No way some English lady who lived, like, a hundred years ago knows anything about my life.”

Lydia scowls, but Curtis holds up a hand. “That’s a valid opinion. But I bet if you gave it a chance, you’d be surprised.”

“You talking about Jane Austen again, Curt?”

Heads swivel toward the source of the sound, and Curtis looks up to see Frank walking through the door. He pulls a chair off the rack and slides between Rahul and Lydia. “Sorry I’m late. And uh, for the record—her novels are the good shit.”

“Not you too, man,” Rahul groans. 

“Got me through one of my first tours,” Frank replies. He gestures at Curtis. “This guy wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about it, so I finally took the damn thing just to shut him up. Stayed up half the night reading it. Curtis knows his shit.”

Curtis feels himself smiling. “Good to have you back, Pete.”

It is. It really is.

Frank makes the rounds after group, catching up with all the vets he knew from before and even chatting with some of the newer members. Curtis catches Lydia fist-bumping him, and he almost shakes his head in disbelief. If someone had told him two weeks ago that Frank would be here, in this room, smiling and making small talk, he would’ve laughed right in their face.  

“Hey, man,” Rahul says, walking up to him. His face goes a little sheepish. “So, uh, if you have that book on you—”   

Curtis blinks. “You’re really gonna give it a shot?”

Rahul shrugs. “Yeah, I mean—you and Pete both think it’s, like, God’s gift to literature, or whatever, so how bad can it be?” He glances over his shoulder surreptitiously. “Just don’t tell Lydia, yeah?”

Curt claps him on the back. “Deal. I’ll bring it next week.” 

Rahul nods, then jerks his head in the direction of the door. “Hey, did you see who’s here?” 

Curtis frowns, peering over Rahul’s head in that direction—

Karen is standing beside Frank, her head thrown back in laughter at something that Lydia has said. She’s in her work clothes, but her hair looks a little glossier, and she’s definitely wearing lipstick. Curtis watches as Frank brings his hand to the small of her back in a gesture that’s effortless, like this isn’t the first time he’s done it.

Gather your rosebuds, Frank.

The bastard really did it. Curtis hadn’t realized how badly he wanted this for him—something to live for after the war was over. Now it’s happening right in front of him, unfolding in real time. It makes his chest ache a little. 

Karen catches Curtis’ eye and gently peels herself away. “Long time no see,” she says, coming up to him. “I would’ve been here tonight, but Ellison’s got us working overtime on this city councilman thing.”

Curtis nods. He’s heard a few things through the grapevine—embezzlement in the councilman’s office, real original—and he wondered if Karen would be following it. “Back to making headlines?” he quips. 

“Maybe just one more,” Karen laughs. 

Curtis tips his head in Frank’s direction. “So, guess he finally pulled his head out of his ass.”

Karen follows his gaze. The look on her face is in direct contrast to the one Frank was wearing last week, love and hope and so much warmth. It’s all the answer Curtis needs.

“About damn time,” he says.

Karen’s mouth curves into a soft smile. “No argument there. Hey, we were going to grab dinner at that new Thai place on 7th—you’re welcome to come with, if you’re not busy.”

Curtis considers it for a second, but the last thing he wants to be for either of them is a third wheel. They deserve some time for themselves. He has all the time in the world to give Frank shit about this; he’ll let him have one night of peace.

“Let me take a raincheck,” he says. “Next week sometime?”

“Next week is perfect,” Karen replies. “See you then.”

The other vets are trickling out now, waving and calling out goodbyes over their shoulder. Karen makes her way back over to Frank, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. She leans in to say something in his ear, and he casts a glance back at Curtis. 

Curtis bobs his head once, and Frank returns the gesture, mouth creasing into a smile; then he turns and follows Karen out the door.

Curtis watches him leave, thinking he’s never been more happy to do so.

[lacheri]

i don’t know if your event is still open since it is already past time from your deadline but the event in ypur navigation says otherwise so i am betting my luck ≡^ˇ^≡

i am INFJ-T, and i am a pisces ☉ scorpio ☽. i use she/her. i love to have mutual pinning trope with reiner braun. i’m someone who is studious and sometimes i based my worth to my grades LMFAO i like earth tones. i love cooking and singing, too! my love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service!

thank you for creating this such beautiful event 🤍

hi mono! I hope you like it angel! <3 (also this is so funny I literally started this the day you submitted and before I navigated through your (now old) theme, at least it's ON BRAND)

The Moon: everything looks prettier under the moon's glow. this is the card for the subconscious, for the dreamer, for hidden thoughts and feelings. this card has many different meanings, anxiety and fear lace the moon as well, but I like to interrupt this as a positive sign when it appears in a reading. it provides a dreamy cast on all things that fall under its light. this card just makes so much sense to me with you being an infj, someone who's filled with imagination and insightfulness.

ivy - frank ocean. "If I could see through your walls, I could see you're faking. If you could see my thoughts, you would see our faces."

If there were words to describe him, they escaped every corner of your mind. His blonde hair curled outwards in flicks against the nape of his neck, begging for your fingers to reach out and entangle themselves in the strands. You knew he’d be going to get it cut within the week, he always did when it grew out to be this long. Still, you could admire him, even if you were staring directly into the back of his head, daydreaming away of your could be love.

“Pass the quizzes back!” Professor Hange called out from the front of the room, handing out large stacks to the front rows of students.

You sat back in the fifth row, directly behind Reiner Braun, the theoretical love of your life. Had you even spoken more than two sentences to the man? Absolutely not. Did you know his favorite flavor of gum was spearmint, and he never could keep a pencil on his person? Of course, he asked you every single day.

It wasn’t like Reiner had a well known reputation or anything, in fact he floated like a social butterfly between so many different groups of people, it was hard to dislike the guy. He always had a charming smile on his face and a kind word to say. It didn’t take much to develop your small crush on the man sitting in front of you, and although he was mostly silent while in class, his eyes would swirl with concentration whenever you’d catch his line of view.

The sight of his sharp jawline came into your field of vision as he turned, resting one arm on the back of his chair as he met your eyes, palm extended with your paper, “Here ya’ go.”

“Thank you,” you managed to smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before reaching forward, passing back the rest of the stack to the student behind you.

“I’m sure you did great,” he offered a small smile when you turned back around, the genuine kind that had your heart fluttering in your chest. “You always do.”

“I’m sure you did too,” you responded shyly, diverting your gaze to the paper now in front you, smiling as your eyes scanned the contents. A perfect score, just as you had hoped.

Reiner hadn’t completely turned around yet, darting his eyes between you and his own quiz, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Record officially broken, “Sure, what’s up?”

“Do you think you could help me out with this class?” his eyes were shifting all over the room, his usual confident façade in tatters. “I don’t understand a single thing about biology.”

“Um,” your eyes widened dramatically, a cold sweat breaking out under your clothing. No way, there was literally no way this was actually happening.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” you saw the twinge of pink rise on the apples of his cheeks as his fingers lifted to scratch the back of his neck. “I can pay you too.”

“No, no,” you shook your head furiously, forcing words passed your teeth. “You don’t have to pay me. When did you, uh, want to do this?”

“I guess after class if you’re not busy,” his eyes flickered to the clock above the whiteboard on the wall. Please say yes, he chanted in his mind.

“No, not really. That works for me,” You'd be calling out of work right now if you had a job, cancelling any and all plans to take full advantage of this golden moment. One that had played in your head the entire semester, living in your daydreams while you ogled the blonde with a fluttering heart.

“Cool,” Reiner bit down on his bottom lip as he smiled, readjusting himself to face forward as Professor Hange began to lecture the class about their pitiful grades.

“Cool,” you breathed out, feeling a sense of relief now his eyes weren’t directly on you. If you only knew how Reiner’s heart thumped in his ears, how that smile never left his lips. He’d been working up the courage to ask you that all semester.

The library was nearly empty after the sunset, the perfect scene for your tutoring session with the ever handsome Reiner. It took all of your willpower to stay focused on the textbooks sprawled on the table in front of you, and not the warmth radiating from his body as he sat next to you, his knee brushing against yours.

“Okay, so what’s the difference between mitosis and meiosis again?” you whispered, feeling the gnawing tingle of sleepiness behind your eyelids.

Reiner broke the contact from the page in front of him, you could feel his breath hit your cheeks bones as he muttered, “Mitosis has four stages while meiosis has eight. The chromosome numbers are the same in each one though.”

“No, just mitosis stays the same,” you turned your head to the old book in front of you, pointer finger trailing the sentence as you corrected him. “The daughter cell is halved in chromosomes in meiosis. Both produce new cells and start with a single parent cell.”

“This makes no sense,” Reiner groaned, placing his head in his hands.

This plan seemed a lot better in his head, allowing the perfect opportunity to get close to you, to hold a conversation. He’d turn around almost every day of class and ask to borrow a pencil, just to talk to you. He felt bad when he’d begin to turn in his chair just to see you already extending one out for him. So, Reiner moved on to offering you gum every day. This also became the expected, and you began placing a foiled covered stick on his desk as you’d walk into class every day.

You were just so smart and so pretty, there was absolutely no way he stood a chance. He lacked the brains, lacked the courage, not to mention he didn’t have any outstanding features. Sure if he was incredibly handsome he could at least try to dumbly pull you, ignorantly stumbling over half assed compliments and actions. But he was too self aware, feeling small next to your figure. He was out of ideas, and found that he was using his last ditch efforts to finally make his move.

“Here, I’ll make you some flash cards,” you offered, taking a sharpie and some loose index cards from your school bag.

“Do you think we could do this more often?” Reiner mumbled out suddenly, a fierce blush threatening the tips of his ears. “The, uh, study sessions? I’m really lost.” He just wanted to spend more time with you.

“Yeah, of course,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

“Cool,” he breathed out, a weight lifted off of his chest. “I’m usually free after class most days, maybe we could like, get food tomorrow?”

Reiner was sweating awaiting your answer. He’d been building up the courage for weeks now to ask to be in your presence, and he felt as if he might’ve been pushing his luck. Of course, you didn’t feel this way at all, almost in a stupor that your crush had even asked to spend more time with you.

“Okay,” you smiled so softly, Reiner could feel the red heat reach the apples of his cheeks. “There’s this really cool diner in town, I’ve been dying to go.”

“The retro one? I’ve been there a few times, it’s pretty cool, and the food is really good,” C’mon Reiner find another reason to keep her attention, “Are you busy tonight, we can go now?”

You glanced down to your outfit, and deemed it cute enough to go out in public, “You sure? I don’t want to hold you up if you have plans.”

Reiner couldn’t pack his bookbag faster, fingers clumsily fumbling all the notes he had taken during your study session, “I’ll call an Uber right now.”

It was like you had known Reiner all of your life. If someone were to pass by the diner’s windows that night and saw the two of you, shoveling food into your mouths and sipping on milkshakes, they could’ve sworn that you were dating, deeply in love. The way you both leaned in across the table, toes centimeters away from touching under the booth, fingertips so close on the table, it was almost a sure sign. Reiner of course wouldn’t have worked up the courage to officially ask you out until your sixth study session, almost at the end of the semester. And of course you said yes, brain malfunctioning at the admittance of his feelings.

When you met Reiner’s closest friends, Bertholdt and Annie, he introduced you as “the smartest, prettiest girl in the whole world”, and had gotten a little too enthusiastic when asked how the two of you met.

“We had a class together and I drooled over her every single day, and finally got the courage to ask her out,” not exactly the truth, you’d think as he’d recite the story. He was leaving out how badly you had pined over him as well. Almost in denial, Reiner genuinely couldn’t believe he had somehow managed to capture your heart from the very beginning.

It seemed as if your feelings for Reiner only deepened and blossomed under the weight of your new relationship. You had only begun to scratch the surface, and you fell so deeply in love with the blonde as time moved forward. Maybe it was the universe calling to you when you had first met him in your biology class, or maybe you were just meant to be soulmates. You’d say exactly that too when your friends would ask you how the two of you got together.

There wasn’t a better matched couple, the friends would think. Strangers would agree too, catching the sight of your conjoined hands together and loving gazes and you’d sit in that diner, night after night, study sessions in the library. It had to be fate, you decided in the end. Reiner was everything you ever wanted and more, even better than the daydreams you had conjured while you stared at the back of his head. Reiner felt exactly the same, and he told you every single day how you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[gizkasparadise]

cdrama rec/review: le coup de foudre

KDRAMA AND CDRAMA MASTER LIST OF REVIEWS

Series: le coup de foudre / love at first sight / i don’t like this world, i only like you Episodes: 35 w/ a special Genres: then & now, slice of life, high school to adult life, romance, reunion/getting back together, working with the ex Spoilers in the Rec: for set-up/light ones for character backgrounds If You Like, You’ll Like: the reply series, sad-looking dogs that are loved very much, because this is my first life (VERY similar male lead), sibling love, my sunshine but if people were nicer and had significantly better hair, multiple couples that are all a lot of fun

Rank: 10/10

PREMISE

flashback to 6-8 years ago (because the OP here can’t remember lol): it’s desk selection day in qiao yi’s classroom! a very dramatic moment for all high schoolers, qia yi has to select who she sits next to. because she’s at the bottom of the class ranking, she gets last pick, which essentially narrows down her choices to that creepy kid who writes love poetry to every female student in the class and yan mo, the scary genius student who has placed 1st in their class since...forever.

taking a gamble, qiao yi goes with yan mo. yan mo eventually agrees to tutoring qiao yi outside of class and they become friends. then...friends? if you know what i mean. it’s very sweet and cute. only problem is that yan mo is both a genius and from a Family of Means, and so is already planning on attending cambridge (yeah, fucking cambridge) after graduation. not wanting to separate, yan mo asks qiao yi to come with him and she agrees to study hard so she can get accepted to a university in the UK, too.

but then, well, bad shit happened. 

qiao yi ended up staying in their home town, yan mo left for cambridge, and we got two v heartbroken teenagers on our hands.

4 years later, yan mo returns after studying in the uk, and by chance they end up bumping into each other. angry because qiao yi hurt him, yan mo puts up an ALOOF AND COLD AND I DONT CARE AT ALL front that she sadly buys. but after he leaves for the big city to pursue a business opportunity, qiao yi harnesses some amazing big dick energy to go after him, in a sort of inverse DONT LET HER GET ON THAT PLANE! move. very abba. 

the plot bounces between their (and their friends’) high school years, their lives as reunited adults, and their future lives as married folks. i love it very, very much.

MAIN CHARACTERS

zhao qiao yi

as a high schooler, qiao yi was a quiet girl with low self-esteem, who consistently ranked at the bottom of her class and was always attempting to retreat into her school tracksuit like a turtle. despite this, qiao yi has some solid friends and is always kind if somewhat shy or uncomfortable in certain situations. as a adult, qiao yi works as a television producer and is clearly more confident. 

she buys truly awful graphic t-shirts as thank you gifts that one feels obligated to wear. falls for scams easily. will help you fold 1000 paper stars for your boyfriend even if she hates your boyfriend because she’s ride or die like that. look at how cute she is no one is allowed to be mean to someone as cute as this.

yan mo / “frank”

if you liked se hee in because this is my first life, you’re in luck because here is a 10% angrier version. at first, yan mo seems cold, aloof, snobbish, pretentious, arrogant...

okay, but he’s ALSO got a lot of feelings and will help people out. well, at the start of the show, he’ll help two people out. but that expands to like 10. so, progress! in high school, he falls for qiao yi in the typical Cannot Spit It Out fashion, buying her sentimental cans of coke, PUTTING IN ONE EARBUD SO SHE CAN LISTEN TO THE BEATLES WITH HIM, feeling Weird about her tying his tie, and single-handedly ruining a for-profit afterschool tutoring business in about 30 seconds, because they weren’t teaching qiao yi anything, and he knew he could do it better. tbh he completely fucking destroys a lot of things and people in under a minute. #ruthless

he’s very protective of qiao yi and rather than explain it, here is a clip from the special episode where yan mo confronts another student who left a love confession meant for qiao yi in his desk by mistake (subtitles have to be selected under settings, but it’s subbed in english):

zhao guan chao

zhao qiao yi’s twin brother, who has always placed 2nd in their classes after yan mo. despite his high grades, he comes off as a laidback teen heartthrob and has a reputation for being a flake and a playboy. BUT he’s legit a chill dude and clearly popular for a reason--he gets along with (almost) everyone. he loves his sister and is extremely protective of her, especially since she’s so shy and has low self-esteem for Reasons That Will Be Explained in the Tragic Backstory. he’s such a good brother. the best brother. also looks out for qiao yi’s best friend, wu yi. understands the value of shoes.

hao wu yi

qiao yi’s best friend, and another classmate of The Crew. i say this with so, so much love, but she’s got a lot of chaotic dumbass energy. struggling along the bottom ranks with qiao yi during high school. she has the worst taste in men as a teenager, falling for the guy who literally bullied her in like. ep 2. thankfully she’s got qiao yi and guanchao.

the trio are close, and that doesn’t change as they grow up. wu yi ends up becoming a novelist who writes pop and steamy romance novels and has a significant teenage girl fanbase. it’s amazing. 

fei da chuan

my boy. another classmate, he, qiao yi, and wu yi make up the official Dumbass Trio of their high school class and have adorable adventures + solidarity in it. he’s also yan mo’s uncle. somehow. because rich people families are wild. while he’s got a place to live, he more often than not crashes at yan mo’s, who Does Not Like It. but da chuan does not notice or care. 

abrasive but 100% sincere about everything and toward everyone. people will think he’s an asshole or a gangster but then he’s secretly feeding abandoned kittens in the corner or something. as an adult, has the best business casual outfits. serves as a big brother figure to a lot of people, but qiao yi in particular. cannot, cannot fucking do math.

SUPPORTING

“alicia” / cheng youmei. an old family friend of yan mo’s who is very posh and rich and dignified. studied abroad with him at cambridge, and is cold toward qiao yi after arriving back in china. cosplays B)

teacher gao. everyone’s high school teacher who later owns a bar that seems to be there only for dispensing advice. seriously. there is no way this bar is economically sound as the only customers you ever see are gao’s students coming in one at a time for Wisdom and you never see them pay for anything. also the bar has no fucking roof and is directly above traintracks. i have hang-ups about this bar

lin shu. yan mo’s mother. very sweet and pretty and a ballernia turned program director. is almost never home but clearly loves her son. du chaun’s sister. somehow.

zhao suyin. qiao yi and guan chao’s mother. one of her kinks is roleplaying condor heroes characters? okay okay okay

tian weimin. qiao yi and guan chao’s stepfather who works as police officer. best dad award. he’s so sweet and corny and peak dad humor. he loves them kids & they love him back

grandpa. yan mo’s dog in high school. a very old basset hound with sad eyes:

dollar or d. i cant tell you anything about him, other than he used to be a stray and yan mo says he’s ugly, which, rude.

DRAWBACKS

plot...hm. there’s SOME plot, but this is about characters + romance + friendship + family. if you’re looking for scheming mothers-in-law or tragic car accidents or secret destinies this isn’t the one for you. similar in vibe to Reply 1988 (they even watch the show in the show :’D / make references to it)

OKAY SO every plot summary i’ve seen says that yan mo is in a relationship with someone else when he gets back to china. no he is not. i say this because it was a huge turn off for me/initially put me off watching the series. he is definitely a one-and-only type. there’s no cheating in this show. lmao, hell, neither of the mains are even interested in anyone else but each other

i liked du chuan and his love interest a lot, but they definitely didn’t get as much screen time as the others

while it’s clear qiao yi + yan mo are the mains, another couple gets a lot of screen time as well. this might be a skip if you don’t like multiple couples/secondary relationships in a show

i surprisingly enjoyed the high school storyline a lot more than the adult one? which is super weird for me, but idk i was sad when it was over because it was so cute.

some...weird technical decisions. every once in a while, the camera will have like a nostalgia filter and then it disappears and then the edges get a bit blurry and idk it feels very film school 101 to show that what’s on screen is a ~memory. the soundtrack/music is sometimes also too loud--to the point where it can drown out the actors (particularly janice wu in the high school arc, since qiao yi is soft-spoken)

REASONS TO WATCH

the lead actors (janice wu + zhang yujian) are legit two of my favorites and they have great/easy chemistry. all the actors are amazing. everyone’s loveable

SIBLING GOALS the zhao twins are amazing and they’re both each other’s biggest fans. gaunchao had some really heartwarming brother moments

i love love lmao. this spoke to a lot of my favorite dynamics: exes reunited/having to work together, childhood sweethearts reuniting as adults, “gangster” and princess, childhood friends turned lovers, bickering couples, cold man who actually has a lot of feelings, lots of people being overprotective, idk. everything was just great. 0 complaints on any of the ships.

i genuinely liked every character other than that one piece of shit poppa zhao. even alicia, who’s put into the stereotypical rich bitch role, was actually really fun and subverted a lot of expectations for this trope

it’s just. real cute y’all. probably my favorite cdrama and definitely in my top 10 (maybe 5?) dramas overall.

FINAL THOUGHTS

i love them ;;

[motleycrueroadie]

Along for the Ride (pt.5)

Author’s Note: Thank you to anyone that is reading this! I apologize if the pace of this is slow, now that I have my character established I’ll be moving through the scenes. This is Mick’s audition and the next one will include meeting Vince and so on!

Previous Chapters: One I Two I Three I Four

Over the course of my life, I think it’s safe to say that I have become fairly acquainted to fresh starts.

Leaving Deanna 

Moving from one end of the West Coast to the other

Changing my name to Nikki Sixx ( leaving Frank Carlton Serafina Feranna Jr. behind)

And now, leaving London for another fresh start.

 In the time that I’ve been alive, I have learned the quick and harsh lesson that you are the only person you can count on, so whether I want to have 0 or 40 fresh starts, that’s up to me. I’m not saying these are always going to work out in my favour, or that I am always going to make the right decision - quite frankly I make stupid ass decisions mostly - but I am the only person that I can truly count on. 

Do I regret leaving London? No. Do I regret the way I left them? Absolutely fucking not. However, am I feeling a little pessimistic about this band, considering that it consists of a drummer I met at a diner and some guitar player he’s dragging along? You can bet your fucking ass I am. 

Sometimes a fresh start begins with a blind shot in the dark and that is what I was doing right now. Last Friday, I met Tommy in a diner and today, the following Sunday, I’m waiting to see whether this is beginning on a good or bad note. I mean, fuck, I haven’t even heard Tommy play, he could be dog shit for all I know, but I trusted him. The kid must know his way around a set of drums, the way he was spinning those stupid fucking sticks around his fingers. 

The funny thing about quitting a band is that you have a lot more free time on your hands. Since I didn’t really have much else to do during this week, I figured I could bug Janis, and she didn’t seem to mind. Our routine remained intact. When I got off work, I waited for her to be done with her run before coming over for dinner. One of the only things that changed was how much time I spent at her place. She started letting me come over while she was in the shower, after I complained that I had nothing to do while I waited. Of course, everything Janis allowed me to do came with a price she told me. Janis explained to me the other night that because she was no “Mother Teresa” as she put it, that I would need to start earning my keep if I was going to be eating her food. We both knew she was joking, but I couldn’t let her joking go without consequence. The shades of red she blushed when I offered to do some of her chores while she showered and got dinner ready were well worth the work I put in. Janis gave me a quite modest list: water the houseplants and vacuum any dirt off the carpet that I got on the floor while I watered them. The chore itself never took me more than 20 minutes, which left enough time for me to be nosy. Somehow, Janis managed to fill every square inch of the apartment with something, all without making the place seem cluttered. She had knick-knacks and photos lining the wall and she also had this large bookcase in her living room that held all sorts of things. The radio and a cassette collection occupied the first shelf, board games on the second and on the bottom were a couple thick photo books alongside her high school yearbooks. I knew Janis was a runner from past conversations, but I had no idea she was a state champion. In fact, Janis seemed to have been the whole package in her high school days. She was a state champion runner, graduated with honors according to her diploma and had great grades but yet I didn’t see a college degree on her wall. I hadn’t brought this up yet, but I want to ask her about these books soon - she doesn’t know I’ve been through them though so I figured it could wait. 

The clock on the stove reads 3:45 when I hear a lot of noise outside my apartment. Rolling my eyes I headed towards the door, only to open it to see Tommy and his buddy Greg carrying equipment up the stairs. 

“Didn’t I tell you guys to come here at 4?” Despite the fact that it’s often polite to be early, I had told these guys to show up no earlier than 4 for our first practice because I didn’t want to disturb Janis while she slept. 

“Dude, it’s going to take me a bit to set this shit up, if we want to get started at 4 I should’ve been here earlier” Tommy grunted back intermittently, while trying to help Greg carry an amp up the stairs.Either I hadn’t made myself clear on the phone or Tommy doesn’t listen. Tommy was doing more of the heavy lifting than Greg by the looks of it, which wasn’t a good sign to me. 

“You the minivan?” I asked him, my way of offering help. He nodded to me while steering towards the door. As I went down the stairs, I glanced back up at Janis’s apartment to see if the noise had woken her up. I know it’s only 15 minutes of sleep but 15 minutes is a pretty big deal. To my surprise, she was leaning against the railing on the balcony. 

“Think you could come down here and help us out Joplin?” I call out to her, squinting up against the sun to see her in her pajamas and fuzzed out hair. 

“You boys look like you’re doing just fine!” She said, motioning with her hand for me to continue what I was doing. I hadn’t noticed Tommy walking down the stairs until he was beside me. 

“Isn’t that the waitress from the diner?” He asked me as we continued down the stairs to the minivan. 

“You tell me.” I smirked at him, knowing full well he remembered who she was. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I turned around to find her still there.

“Can we postpone dinner until after practice?” I yell up to her. 

“Only if you play Barracuda as your last song.” She replied. I furrowed my brow, confused at the request.

“Why?” Tommy was the one to reply for me. 

“I like it.” She said, and I laughed at how matter of fact she stated this. “Plus it tells me when you’re done. Food will be hot half an hour after the opening chords.” Flashing a thumbs up back at her I turned around to continue what we were doing. 

“Do we get food too?” This came from Greg. 

“No.” I quickly replied, even though I knew Janis would feed them. I just didn’t want them there. 

We started practicing around half past 4, and finished at half past 8. In the four hours that we had spent in my apartment, I had shown Tommy and Greg a couple of songs and tried to get to know them. All I had learned was that Tommy and Greg were both in a band called “Suite 19” before this and that Greg couldn’t play the way I wanted him to. At 8:25, I had told them to start playing Barracuda because I was getting hungry and my patience was wearing thin. Heading up the stairs towards Janis’s apartment, I felt relieved to know I would be in her presence for the next little bit. Before rounding the corner I could hear Janis, not the girl that lived above me, but Janis Joplin singing Me and My Bobby McGee. Pushing open the door, I reached up to catch the bell before it could ring so as to not alert Janis that I was in the apartment. She was standing at the stove, swaying back and forth while lightly singing along to the song - just faint enough that you almost couldn’t hear her if you weren’t paying attention. Leaning against the door, I tried to keep as quiet as possible just to watch her. Suddenly, she stopped swaying and I thought my cover had been blown. 

“It’s been 30 minutes, I wonder what he’s up to?” She was thinking out loud. 

“He’s waiting to see if you notice that he’s in the apartment.” She whipped around, visibly surprised. 

“Sixx!” she practically yelled, clutching a hand to her chest. I could only laugh, and the stunned look she held on her face quickly faded into a laugh. That was one of the things that I enjoyed most about Janis’s company, she was never one to dwell when she was in a bad mood. She ebbed and flowed with the mood of the conversation. “I’m surprised you could be that silent, considering all the ruckus you’ve been making for the past four hours.” Crossing her arms, she leaned against the counter top while being careful not to disturb the pan on the stove. 

“By ruckus, do you mean a bass player and a drummer that know what they’re doing while the guitar player doesn’t?” 

“I suppose so.” She turned back to the stove, turning it off and bringing the pan over to the opposite counter to pour what looked to be meat into two bowls with fixings. She caught me watching her do this and must have noticed the confused look on my face, “We’re having taco salad Nikki. You’ll like it.” Reaching into the fridge, she grabbed a bottle of dressing and drizzled it across the two bowls before handing one to me. 

“So tell me, if this guitar player -” she motioned with her hand to indicate she didn’t know his name as she reached into a drawer for utensils.

“Greg”

“If Greg isn’t what you’re looking for, then why haven’t you called that guy from the newspaper ad?”

She was referring to an ad that I had shown her from the newspaper. Someone who described themselves as a “loud, rude and aggressive guitar player” had caught my eye. They listed a phone number, but after Tommy had mentioned Greg, I hadn’t thought to give them a call. 

“Well you see, Greg is a friend of Tommy’s from his old band” I figured I would cut the story off there and she would pick up on the rest. She snickered to herself. 

“You’re telling me that the man with jet black hair and a name like ‘Nikki Sixx’ is afraid to hurt Greg and Tommy’s feelings?” She motioned a tear running down her cheek while pouting and I scoffed at her. “Does Tommy know that Greg doesn’t fit your vibe?” She questioned, returning to her food. 

“He won’t say it cause Greg is there but yeah.” I said honestly, between bites. She nodded while continuing to chew on her food. 

“I didn’t hear a whole lot of singing going on down there tonight.” She looked over  at me expectantly, though I’m not quite sure what response it is she was looking for. “So it has been a little over a week, you’ve got a drummer you like and a guitar player you’re not so sure of and zero singer….” 

“Get to your point here Janis Jade Smith.” She laughed at how I had used her full name.

“Point is, when will I be attending this show of yours?” she was smirking but trying to hide it. Flipping her off, she laughed and we continued eating with one another in a comfortable silence.

Another week had passed since Tommy and Greg had arrived at my apartment, and things were  no better. I have little patience to begin with, but I had used it all on trying to teach Greg the way I wanted him to play. Sick of listening to me complain about the man, Janis told me that if I wasn’t going to pull the trigger and call the guy from the newspaper ad then she would. Before I had the time to process what was going on, Janis had left the apartment during the middle of dinner and returned 15 minutes later only to say “Sunday. He will be here at 4:00 pm sharp. If you like him, you tell Greg to hit the road.” So today, I was standing out on the balcony with Tommy letting him know the deal with this guy coming to audition. The faint sound of a bell caught my attention, knowing it was just before 4:00 I guessed that Janis woke up early. 

“That you up there Janis?” I called out, Tommy leaned over the railing to look up at the next floor. 

“Just came out to make sure that he shows up.” Answered my question.

“Listen man, how are we going to tell Greg to leave if we like this guy?” Tommy asked me as he moved his weight between each of his legs. If there was one thing I learned about Tommy in the short time since I had met him, it was that he had enough energy for the both of us. I could only guess that he’ll be a good partner in crime once the drinks are flowing. I shrugged my shoulders while smirking at him. 

“Act like you’re serving him a shot.” I heard a snicker above me as Tommy initially looked confused but then realized what I was getting at. 

“Give it to him straight..” Tommy mumbled under his breath as we watched a red car pull up in front of the apartment building. 

“Right on time!” Janis called out from above us. “Bring whoever is still around at 6:00 up for some dinner!” Sticking out a thumb over the railing, I heard Janis go back into her apartment as Tommy went down the stairs to help out the ad man with his equipment. I liked the looks of him, he almost resembled a slightly older version of me. 

By the time 6:00 rolled around, everyone was ready for a bit of a break. The guitarist that we kept was the man I came to know as Mick Mars, and we gave Greg the news as straight as it could be. If his ability to take news is anything like his drinking skills, I would say that he prefers mixed drinks. 

“Mick, my upstairs neighbour has offered to feed us dinner. You down for a break?” I asked him, knowing that Tommy already heard the offer.

“Why is your neighbour offering to feed us? I sure hope you aren’t taking charity because I don’t”

I know this apartment looks like a dump, but I’m not a charity case. 

“Janis and I have dinner together all the time. I’m not taking charity, I’m taking a free meal from a friend who is offering.” He appeared skeptical of my explanation. Glancing between the two of them, Tommy looked impatient. 

“I’m just hungry so do you think we can go?” Tommy asked. Motioning for the door, I began to walk out and up the stairs to Janis’s apartment. The three of us were rounding the corner to the landing where Crazy Train could be heard from her slightly ajar door. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see Mick and Tommy looking almost intrigued at this. Opening the door to the apartment, the usual bell alerted Janis to our arrival and she turned around with a pan in her hand. 

“Lasagna, salad and garlic bread tonight!” She exclaimed excitedly as she placed the baking sheet on the stove top. 

“It smells good Janis!” Tommy said as he bounded towards the kitchen, as he entered Janis handed him a plate and pointed towards the oven so he could grab himself garlic bread. 

“You must be the man from the ad that I talked to on the phone the other day.” She addressed Mick, who looked to be almost confused by the whole situation. Janis walked towards him from the kitchen with her hand extended, coming in to shake Mick’s hand. He returned the gesture and shook Janis’s hand. 

“Mick Mars.” 

“Loud, rude and aggressive guitar player. It’s nice to meet you. Janis Smith.” She began walking back into the kitchen, motioning for us to follow. We were each handed a plate and utensils while being told that we could grab a slice of garlic bread. Tommy had already planted himself on the couch in the living room, making himself at home.

“Anyone want something to drink?” She asked as Mick and I made our way to the couch in the living room. I noticed that there wasn’t going to be room on the couch for Janis, so I remained standing. Coming out from her bedroom, Janis dragged out a beanbag chair and placed it in front of the coffee table. I went to sit down on the chair when I was interrupted, “Sit on the couch Sixx, that’s mine.”

“Beer?” Tommy called out.

“One for everyone?” 

A collective yes was mumbled and Janis returned with 3 beers in one hand and her plate in the other. 

“Y’all sounded much better today. It was nice to finally hear those songs played correctly after listening to that sad sap try and keep up pace for the last week.” Now that Greg was gone, I think that Janis had given up putting on a good attitude about him. 

“We will sound even better once we have a singer.” Tommy replied, which started me on my train of thought. 

“Someone along the lines of David Lee Roth and Bowie!”

“So we want a skinny blonder fucker with moves?” Mick asked and I nodded, he was on the same train of thought. Sparing a quick glance over at Janis, she was eating quietly while watching the conversation. 

“I think I know who could be our guy!” Tommy exclaimed. 

Next Chapter

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: The Strange Secret of Bruce Wayne

“Sunshine. Clean air. I hate it.”

Episode: 37 Robin: Yes Writers: Judith Reeves-Stevens (teleplay), Garfield Reeves-Stevens (Teleplay), and David Wise (Story) Director: Frank Paur Animator: Akom Airdate: October 29, 1992 Grade: B

Whoa! Wait a minute! Didn’t we just talk about the episode Eternal Youth? And wasn’t that episode #29? Now we’re going to jump all the way up to #37? Did I miss something?

That was supposed to be an imitation of you. Not in a condescending way. Because yeah, we did jump ahead! Oh, don’t worry, we will be taking a look at every episode between Eternal Youth and Strange Secret, but we’ll be doing so in a “split timeline” fashion (term ripped from StephenVlogs/Zelda). I have been really behind with the posts for a while now because of the work I had in college. And I’ll keep getting further behind unless I do something. So today, we have jumped up to where I actually am with the episodes. This way I am caught up, and then I can go back and review the episodes I have missed when I have the spare time to do so. It’s as simple as that. And if you’re someone who would prefer not to read ahead, feel free to wait for me to catch up in the past timeline.

In the present timeline, we’re looking at Dr. Hugo Strange’s debut, as well as the first time we have seen some of Batman’s major villains work together. This episode is important, because it sets up possibilities for the future (ex Almost Got ‘im and Trial), but aside from that, it ends up being pretty inconsequential, and simply a fun episode with some laughs along the way. When we see the title and the title card, though, it is hard not to expect more. Char figured that this would be a deep episode about Batman’s past, and while we do go back in time a little bit through Bruce Wayne’s mind, it’s nothing that we haven’t seen before, and it’s incredibly short. Also, I don’t exactly know who that is on the title card. It looks like it is one of Strange’s men, but it’s also entirely possible that it is Bruce. It has virtually nothing to do with the episode, honestly, and because of that, it’s not one of my favorite title cards. Maybe this episode was much different in an earlier draft, and they had to water it down for kids. That wouldn’t shock me, this episode is a lot more cartoony than most. The main plot features a mind-reading device that leads its victims through personal, repressed memories, and then displays these thoughts as video onto a screen that Strange gets to look at. It also records the thoughts onto tape. Look, I’m willing to suspend my disbelief when it comes to invisibility (See No Evil), or even when it comes to transforming people into trees. This is a little silly. And this is following a pretty tense scene at the beginning, where a Gotham judge is desperately trying to buy one of these tapes back, which shows that she was the one who caused a major fire long ago as a child, and has kept it a secret ever since. She doesn’t have enough money to pay for the tape, so Strange’s goons don’t give it to her, and they tell her that she now owes even more (they also have a duplicate tape as backup, seen later. Evil bastards). She’s so desperate to get the tape, that when Batman swoops in to settle things, the tape happens to find its way onto a dangerous-looking metal beam, suspended above the water, and she crawls out to grab it (nearly falling). It may not be animated that well, but it makes for some good set-up. From here on, though, the episode receives a big tone shift.

After Dr. Hugo Strange reads Bruce’s mind, he discovers that Bruce is Batman. This is a major thing, no one so far in the show, villainous at least, has figured out who Batman is. Shouldn’t this be a super dramatic moment? But it’s really not. I question why Bruce didn’t simply look backwards to see what was showing on the screen or why he was so trusting to begin with, but even more so, I question how Strange deduced that Bruce is Batman through the footage shown. Yeah, we see the bat-signal and Batman’s glove, but this could be a simple metaphor or a desire to be Batman. It proves nothing, to me. But in the show’s logic, we must accept that this is enough to count, and now, armed with Bruce’s secret, Strange attempts to auction the tape to Joker, Penguin, and Two-Face. We get to see all four of these goobery characters interacting, and it is truly great. It’s what makes the episode so watchable. They have such strong personalities, and not once do they ever feel out of character. Even Penguin is a blast, only making one bird pun that I remember. And this bird pun is one that anyone would be likely to make, so it didn’t feel overly gimmicky. This is how to do Penguin right! As he sips his tea in the airplane as they are about to throw Strange out of it, I immediately realized that Batman in my Basement would not taint the character for me. Penguin, we have hope. Don’t screw it up. Two-Face being there wasn’t played seriously either, and this might bother some, but I was fine with it. It is sad to see Harvey stooping at such a low, but he’s a gangster now. It’s just how it is. Not every day for him is going to be that first episode with him all over again, y’know? And with him getting roasted by the Joker the way he did, I am totally open to having such a depressing character in such a casual episode. “Get out of my face, Clown.” “Which one?” Ouch, he walked right into that one.

The one major gripe that I actually have is the ending. I know I haven’t talked about it yet, but it has the same problem that I have with The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy where it is completely unbelievable. You’re telling me that not only does Bruce happen to have a perfect costume of himself that Dick can fit into, but also that Dick can do a 100% perfect Bruce Wayne impression? Get outta town! And then we got that exposition at the end, showing how Dick was able to appear so tall in Bruce’s clothes. I probably would have questioned it otherwise, but that could have been done more elegantly. Just show Dick stepping out of the stilts. We don’t need the “stilted” dialogue explaining it. I really don’t like when the show takes this route of Batman, or someone else, being disguised as someone else, because it always follows damn-near Scooby Doo-logic. Costumes aren’t that perfect. I just don’t buy it. It seems very “kidified", and like the writers simply had no idea how Batman would weasel out of this situation. If Loren Lester can actually do an impression of Kevin Conroy that well, I will eat my coffee cup.

I want this as a poster.

I’m sorry, but her hairline looks like it should belong to some middle-aged dude trying to be hip from the 70′s.

Seeing Batman walk along the top of the bridge was cool. Stealthy Batman is just as great to watch as brutal Batman.

But sometimes he’s both!

Sorry, but that judge was a lot thicker than that. Don’t skimp out.

Gordon chatting with Batman while appearing to be deep in thought, simply peering into the water was a nice touch. 

Gordon witnesses Batman disappearing for once. It would be funny if from this point on, he thought that Batman always escaped via plane.

The large tombstones are cool, but this scene lacked the fluidity it required to be interesting. 

The big reveal that Batman is Bruce Wayne. Ummm... Okay. 

Looks kinda like Keaton Batman. 

This face was really creepy. But apparently she started the fire on accident. Doesn’t really come across with a crazed look like that.

The animation didn’t destroy the episode or anything, but some of these characters have seen better days.

Like, I mean, it’s passable, but I’m not feeling the grotesqueness associated with Two-Face.

This was a rough shot. I’ve noticed that episodes tend to have trouble with shots featuring the Joker’s closed mouth. 

Yikes. Look at. the henchman’s facial structure. What happened, dude? 

I like the Joker’s popcorn-eating as Batman’s identity is about to be revealed. 

And Hugo Strange rubbing his hands together with greed was delightfully silly. I also wonder how the rogues obtained so much money. I bet most of it is Penguin’s. Joker probably contributed the cents.

Got a nice screenshot of Penguin shooting the tape. 

Nice badge.

Compare this to a similar scene in the Batman Beyond pilot. One has a much easier time climbing on a plane, given the suit.

Oh, Penguin. Thinking he’s so damn sophisticated as they drag a screaming man into the sky and threaten to toss him out the door. See, that would be absolutely barbaric, but the tea.

What a dreadful shot. Also, Strange’s voice actor (Ray Buktenica) knocks it out of the park with his pleas. 

Once Gordon and Strange are gone, we see “Bruce” get a bit more of a smug expression that we don’t often see. This is actually Dick, and the change in expression I will praise. Still doesn’t excuse the overall scenario, though!

Char’s grade: A Next time: Heart of Steel (Part 1)

Full episode list here!

[onebatch2batch]

***WARNING: IW SPOILERS***

You can blame this on @frankcastiglione so................there’s that

Once, Karen had asked him, “why don’t you help?”

Frank remembered it clearly. He was making dinner, and she was sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the television. A glance at the screen told him that Tony Stark’s face was plastered over the news for what felt like the millionth time in the last half-decade. Something to do with aliens and hoodoo voodoo, none of which he cared to know about. 

Frank had turned back to the stove, huffing. “I’m one man, Karen,” he’d said, “aliens are above my pay grade.” 

“Yeah,” Karen had laughed, “but how cool would it be to say you took down aliens?”

He had only rolled his eyes and told her to grab a plate. 

—

Once, Curtis had asked him, “what is it going to take to make you happy?”

Frank heard the words leave his mouth before he could think about it. “Happy is a kick in the balls waiting to happen.”

Now, he looks at Karen with her blond hair spilling over her pillow. It’s still early morning, minutes before her work alarm is set to go off. In sleep, she’s reached out for him, knuckles brushing against his arm. Her chest rises and falls with her even breathing, and Frank watches with the awe that always accompanies waking before her. He knows that it’s well past the time he should be up—there’s coffee to be made, and he needs to get ready for work—but the soft flush on her cheeks and her peaceful expression keeps him rooted in place. 

Frank touches her cheek with gentle fingers and thinks, when’s the kick coming?

—

It comes when he least expects it. 

They’re in the park. It’s a warm autumn day, and Max is running around with a couple dogs excitedly.  Frank feels the warmth of Karen’s shoulder pressed against him, his arm around her. She’s laughing, teasing him about how long his hair has gotten. Frank is blissfully happy, in a way he thought he’d never feel again. Until—

The dogs suddenly stop short. 

There’s a couple yips, and then they take off like a bat out of hell. Frank frowns, whistling for Max. The dog’s ears are pressed back and he’s standing stock still. Karen’s hand comes up to touch Frank’s chest. 

He looks over, and she’s got her eyebrows furrowed, confused. 

“Frank, I don’t—...I think something’s wrong,” she says, barely a whisper. 

He turns fully towards her, cupping her shoulder. “What is it?” 

Karen turns to look at him suddenly, eyes wide. She grasps his shirt, panic taking hold of her. “Frank, I—...”

Frank feels her shoulder give under his hand, and realizes that she’s literally turning to dust in his under his palm. His eyes widen in horror and he reaches for her face, her waist, anything that’s not blowing away with the wind. “Karen, what—no, wait—!” 

She’s gone before he can get the words out. Frank stares at where she was, hears Max whining from somewhere far off. There are screams in the distance, but he can’t bring himself to look away. She can’t be gone. This is—this is unnatural, this is not real, there’s dust on his pants, on the bench and he grabs at it fruitlessly. Panic starts to take hold of him, breaths coming in shorter until he feels like he’s suffocating. He stares and stares and stares, but she doesn’t come back. 

Frank Castle remembers her eyes, terrified and shining with fear, and feels the familiar pain of losing someone. Sharp as a knife. Blunt as a bullet to the brain. A shudder rips through him, and he palms at the dust with tears gathering in his eyes. His knees hit the dirt desperately. 

Amongst the screams, he hears himself say, with the defeat of someone who has lost everything there is to lose, 

“Karen?” 

[tigerrobot]

Best days of our lives?

We were born only a day apart. Our mothers were at the same hospital at the same time. She was, apparently, a difficult labour while I was out in just over 6 hours. We first met at a playground when we were 2 and have been nearly inseparable since.

Amelia. My best friend. My sister. My backup, my bodyguard, my therapist, my confidant. Without her, I couldn't do what I do.

When I started down this path I tried to go it alone believing, like so many others, that letting someone in put them at risk. And, like those solitary heroes, I learned the hard way that we all need help.

The funny part was, I didn't need her to protect me from the monsters of the night. Those I could deal with on my own, magic did most of the work for me. Nah, sometimes the real monsters were other people.

"Hey, freak!" The boys laughed and ran down the hall, jostling with each other and acting like they just came up with the greatest insult to ever be heard. As a 17 year old decked out in tattoos, you became hardened quickly.

"Real mature, jerk-offs." Amelia scoffed at them and shook her head before turning back to me. "Seriously, they think they are clever or something? They could at least make fun of your silly hair." She playfully nudged me and smiled. She was the one who shaved my head for my side-cut.

"Right? Oh, you know, I haven't been asked what biker gang I'm part of recently. They could have used that one even." I rolled my eyes and smirked sideways at Amelia and continued to class.

3rd period came right after lunch. Amelia had chemistry and I was off to art. It was one of my favourite subjects because Mrs. Avery was one of the only teachers in the school who made me feel like I was normal. Of course, she thought my tattoos were just a form of self-expression rather than a weapon and a shield for the sake of humanity, but, hey, it was better than most people gave me. And it helped that I was good at art.

As we got to the intersection that would separate us for the next hour and a half, Amelia grabbed my hand and gave a slight squeeze. "Have fun! See you in P.E.!"

"Yep. Hey, don't go blowing anything up without me. I don't think the school could afford -another- chemistry lab." We both laughed and parted ways.

Last year, I caught a vampire squatting in the school. I'm typically non-violent unless I have to be and this vamp didn't give me that option. A story for another time but a scuffle ensued and the school suddenly had to make an insurance claim for a gas leak that led to the old chem. lab exploding. Oops.

I had been seriously drawing since I was 12. Every tattoo I had, I had drawn for the artists to ink. So I was used to making clean lines, transitioning into less functional art had been easy. In grade 9 we had learned the fundamentals and Mrs. Avery was so impressed with how quickly I picked it up, she insisted I keep taking her class. Apparently it had paid off because she had got in touch with a colleague of hers from a university in New York that wanted to meet me. While university was still another 7 months away, I guess it was important to think about this stuff ahead of time. And New York did sound exciting.

Art class was pretty uneventful. Perspective, use of colour, shading. During the ample down time a defender of the night who was also a teenager had, I would draw as my escape from everything else. And I was a notorious researcher, so most of what we learned in class, I had already been playing with on my own. A couple of the other kids, who considered themselves artfully gifted, always gave me sidelong glances, like they were trying to measure themselves against me. That was something I was never interested in. How well someone else did something had no baring on how well I did it, nor would it make what I was doing any less important to me. It wouldn't have been so bad had any of them taken the time to talk to me. I would have been more than happy to chat about technique with someone else who wasn't Mrs. Avery.

Phys. Ed. was another story though. Since I didn't look like the other girls, the change room was frightening place and I spent as little time there as possible. Amelia did her best to casually shield me and, so long as she was there, most of the other girls left me alone. Amelia was popular, traditionally pretty, and a complete bad-ass if you got on her 'bad' side. Hell, she made me look like a bunny rabbit when she got mad. High school would have been a literal Hell if it wasn't for her.

Unfortunately, she couldn't protect me all the time. Today she had to stay late in chem. class to talk to Mr. Forscyth about her paper. He was a good guy, a good teacher, but Amelia was nearly above his ability to teach. She absorbed S.T.E.M. information the way I absorbed the occult. She had been working on recreating a simple paper-based test to find your blood type and was showing him the research papers she had been following so that he could get a better understanding of what she was doing. THAT was thinking about university.

The other girls saw me walk in and waited a few moments to see if Amelia followed behind. When they didn't a sinister gleam came to their eyes and they descended.

"Hey Penelope! We never get a chance to chat without Amelia around. It's really a shame, you seem like you'd be really fun to hang out with." One of them said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"Oh, yeah, all those tattoos. It's really cool how you don't care what you look like. Those torn jeans and that old, beat-up leather jacket create such an air of mystique about you." Another remarked, barely containing her sarcasm.

"You should TOTALLY come to my party this weekend!" A third exclaimed, excitedly turning to her friends.

The fourth member of the group snickered, the first of them to break the act, as she said "Sure, but aren't we all a little old to be getting a clown for the party?" And they all started laughing. But, unlike on TV, they didn't disperse. And I knew they wouldn't. Without Amelia around, they could finally get out all of the hatred that they'd had to hold inside.

They had formed a semi-circle around me, my back basically against a wall. I'd have to physically push past them to get away. I shook my head at their attempts to anger me. It wasn't that I was zen or anything like that. People like this group had always been around, always looking to tear me down for whatever reason. And it wasn't that it didn't effect me. I could act like the stoic hero, act like nothing ever phased me and just roll with the punches, but nobody is that dead inside, not even some of the zombies I've squared off against.

"Oh, look, she's trying to be stoic! It's adorable! Come on, freakshow, just admit you don't belong here, run along home, and stop infecting our change room with your presence." Ah, the leader, standing up and being strong with her posse at her back. My hands balled into fists and I could feel the desire to channel a spell into them. How easy it would be to stop this forever, release a blast of energy into her chest and launch her across the room. Or whisper a word and turn them against each other. But magic wasn't to be used against non-magic folks. Even if some of them were worse than half the monsters I had to deal with.

"Good one. I really loved that bit about me not belonging here. I guess to belong at this school I need to have my parents pay off the teachers?" A rumor had been spread about the lead girl falling a class or two last year but her parents really wanted to take her on a trip to Sweden in the summer, and so taking classes just wouldn't do. A donation was made to the school and that little problem went away. By the way she reacted, either it wasn't just a rumor or she had gotten really sick of hearing it. She reached out and shoved me, causing me to fall back, my shoulder striking the wall behind me.

"You know what? We were wrong, you aren't a clown, you aren't even funny. You are just a waste of skin, but looking at it, it wasn't skin anyone else would have wanted anyway. You should feel blessed that I even bother to acknowledge your existence, goblin." And one of her lackey's grabbed my gym bag. I reached out to contest it but was again pushed against the wall.

"We'll do you a favour. You may be filth, but at least your clothes can be clean." The one who grabbed my bag walked into the showers and turned one on, leaving my bag sitting right under it. They all started cackling but stopped abruptly as Amelia walked in.

She saw them, cornering me, and I saw her eyes going through a quick assessment. My bag missing. I watched as her eyes hardened and he stalked forward.

"April, how convenient I got to run into you. Mrs. Ricter says that if you expect to graduate next semester, it's going to cost a lot more than last summer did at this rate. Teresa, I heard from Tommy that you have until tomorrow to return that dress you stole from the mall or they will be calling the cops, the agreement your parents worked out be damned." She looked at the 3rd girl with a look of pure digust but said nothing. Then her eyes fell on the fourth, the one who had just come out of the showers where she could now see my gym bag sitting on the floor.

I swear, she didn't even breath as she walk toward her. The girl started backing away, ending up in the showers herself. Amelia continued to stalk toward her and, while I couldn't see her face now, I imagined smoke billowing from her nostrils like a big momma dragon. The girl backed into a stall and Amelia reached out. The girl made herself smaller, shirking away from Amelia's hand. Amelia simply turned on the water and walked away.

On her way out she grabbed my bag and came back to me. While she was cornering their friend in the showers, the other 3 had left, barely able to maintain their composure and stop themselves from running from her.

"Come on. I'll tell Mrs. Frank that we have some work for yearbook that you are helping me with and we'll get out of here. You okay?" Amelia looked at me, worry in her eyes. I didn't want her to see it but a pair of tears rolled down my cheeks. More out of happiness that I had a friend like her than at anything those harpies had spat at me but I couldn't deny what they said had hurt.

She did as she said and Mrs. Frank didn't even question it. We walked out to her car, she tossed my wet bag into the trunk, not caring that it might get the carpeting back there soaked, and we headed to her place. Her parents wouldn't be home for another hour or so, and we could just veg out, watch some Steven Universe, eat way too much junk food, and completely ruin our appetites for dinner.

I love my best friend.