#maybe I’m just a boring mediocre person and it is what it is at the end of the day

[classical-vanity]

There’s days when I really feel like a failure/ disappointment because I think everyone had pretty high expectations of me growing up and I feel like I’ve done nothing with my life

[seungkw1]

mine — jww

♡ pairing: boyfriend!wonwoo x afab!reader ♡ theme: fluff, smut [18+ mdni], non-idol au ♡ wc: 2.6k ♡ warnings: swearing, size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, dacryphilia, petnames (m. & f. receiving - babe, baby), reader is gender neutral but referred to as girlfriend once, gr8 aftercare ofc ♡ a/n: this is a part two to so fucking pretty but you don’t have to read that one first :)

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

You wouldn’t consider yourself a very romantic person, but your boyfriend’s Valentine’s Day surprise might just change your mind about that.

You’ve never given a single shit about Valentine’s Day. It’s not so much that you hate it or anything, but rather indifference - you simply couldn’t care less. Just another capitalistic holiday for companies to profit off of, right? Plus, red and pink is simply a godawful color combination. So yeah, you’ve never given a shit. 

That is - until you met Wonwoo. 

You’ve dated here and there over the years, but nothing ever too serious - all of your partners either turned out to be lousy or the relationships were just bland. So, all of them ended, and you were never too upset about it. 

But with Wonwoo, everything is different. You’ve only been dating for three months, but your relationship is the complete opposite of lousy or bland. Wonwoo is warm and loving - squeezing you in his arms and giving you kisses every chance he gets. He is caring and kind - listening to you talk no matter whether you needed to vent or just wanted to infodump about your interests. He is sweet and gentle - leaving you cute notes and surprising you with little gifts just because.

He is also incredibly fucking hot, and an absolute god in the bedroom.

You fucked him on the first date, which is very unlike you, but your chemistry was undeniable and it just happened naturally. That was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life - and every time since then has also been the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. You’d be an absolute fool not to stick around.

And so, Wonwoo became your boyfriend. You’ve always found that term to be a bit juvenile, so historically you’ve just referred to your significant other as your partner. But every time you think about Wonwoo you feel the urge to giggle and kick your feet in the air, so the term boyfriend simply feels right. You’re practically head over heels for the man. 

“Ooooo you’re so in love with him,” your best friend teased as you were gushing about your boyfriend for the nth time. 

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes as you replied. Maybe you’re a bit jaded from your mediocre past relationships, but the phrase in love is not one you throw around lightly. 

But deep down, you know it’s true. You’re in love with Wonwoo.

But you’re not ready to admit that to anybody. So you keep it to yourself. You’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

That day arrives much sooner than you anticipate.

—

February rolls around. It’s the dead of winter, arguably the most boring time of year. Your mind is preoccupied with the job interview you have coming up, and you’ve been a bit stressed about it. Wonwoo has been nothing but supportive and helpful - giving you advice, offering to help you practice, cleaning your apartment for you of his own free will - and you are more than grateful to have him around. 

One particularly cold Saturday morning, you wake up to a text from Wonwoo. 

Good morning beautiful! Text me when you’re awake 😊

You smile sleepily as you reply. 

Good morning babe 💖 I’m awake!

The chat bubble pops up as he begins to reply immediately. 

Great! Can you be ready by 11am? I have a surprise for you 😁

A surprise?

Y/N: Oooh, what kind of surprise? WW: It’s a secret 😉 Y/N: Hmm 🤔 Okay... What should I wear though?  WW: Wear whatever you want, you look cute in everything! Y/N: Hehe okayyyy WW: Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 11! See you soon 😊

You hop out of bed and start to get ready, practically dancing around your apartment. You open your closet and stare at your clothes, trying to decide what to wear - which proves to be hard when you don’t know where you’re going. You end up grabbing the cozy light blue sweater Wonwoo complimented you on when you wore it a couple weeks ago, and a cute pair of jeans to match. You’re putting on your heeled boots when you hear the knockknockknock of somebody at the door. You open the door to see your boyfriend, looking incredibly handsome in his dark coat and black-rimmed glasses. He extends to you a bouquet of a dozen red roses.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says with a soft smile. 

As you take the bouquet Wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. As your lips part you look at him, an inquisitive look on your face.

“But it’s not Valentine’s Day yet,” you tell him.

“I know,” he replies as he gives you a little kiss on your nose. “But I couldn’t wait.”

You feel a huge smile color your face. 

“So, where are we going?” 

—

The waitress sets a massive plate of the fanciest waffles you’ve ever seen in front of you. You start to salivate at the sight of the fresh berries and cream heaping on top.

A few weeks ago you had casually mentioned the bougie brunch place you’ve always wanted to try, but it was expensive and the wait was always way too long. Turns out Wonwoo immediately called and made a reservation for you two.

You go to dig into your waffles when you notice your boyfriend holding his phone up, taking photos of you.

“Hey! Stop that,” you say as you playfully try to grab his phone.

“What?” he asks innocently. “You just look so pretty.”

He looks at you adoringly. You pout, feigning annoyance, and he snaps another picture - making you laugh. There’s no way you can be mad at him, he’s simply too sweet.

After the decadent meal Wonwoo walks you back to his car, holding your hand, and insists upon opening the car door for you - even helping you take off your coat. It’s silly, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

Wonwoo starts driving, but in the opposite direction of your home.

“Where are we going now?” you inquire.

“Remember how you said you’ve never been ice skating?”

“Oh god,” you groan. “Can’t wait to make a complete fool of myself.”

“You won’t,” he insists. “You can hold onto me.”

“But you’ve never been ice skating either,” you point out. “How do you know you’re not gonna fall too?”

Wonwoo smiles. “Then we’ll fall together.”

You scoff playfully, but a grin also appears on your face.

Ice skating ends up being a disaster. Neither one of you can stop falling (it doesn’t help that you refuse to stop holding hands, so when one of you falls both of you go down), but you also can’t stop laughing - to the point where your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You haven’t had fun like this in ages.

You look over at your boyfriend. He is extraordinarily cute right now, his cheeks rosy from the cold air. Wonwoo catches you looking at him and leans over to plant a kiss on your cheek - he then immediately runs into the wall. You let out a giggle - he looks back at you sheepishly.

“Maybe you should pay attention to where you’re going,” you tease as you nudge him with your elbow.

“Hard to do so when my beautiful girlfriend is right next to me, distracting me.” His tone mirrors your playfulness, but the way he’s looking at you - you can tell he means it.

You roll your eyes, but a huge smile lights up your face as you wrap your arm around his, squeezing him tightly. 

On the drive back Wonwoo suggests you go to his place, to which you happily agree. Before you enter, he tells you to close your eyes.

“No peeking!” he insists.

“I won’t!” you swear, placing your hands over your eyes. 

You walk through the front door and wait in the entryway, resisting peeking as promised. You hear Wonwoo fiddling with things for a minute, and then you hear the opening notes of your favorite album - the sound emanating from his record player.

“Okay, you can look now,” he tells you as he once again is standing right next to you. You remove your hands, opening your eyes to the sight of Wonwoo’s dim apartment - illuminated only by the dozen of freshly-lit candles placed around the living room. In his hands are the biggest box of chocolates you’ve ever seen, and a cute fuzzy teddy bear that’s holding a heart with Be mine embroidered on it.

“Oh my god, you really went all out,” you remark, smiling from ear to ear as your heart practically flutters in your chest.

“Only the best for you, babe.”

He sets down the chocolates and the bear, stopping to help you out of your coat before drawing you into his embrace, kissing you softly and slowly. He then takes your hands in his, pulling you toward the hallway.

“There’s one more surprise,” he tells you.

Before you can ask him what more he could possibly surprise you with, you see the trail of rose petals down the hallway, leading into his bedroom.

“You did NOT,” you exclaim as you laugh, truly bewildered at the sight of it.

You follow the trail as he pulls you into his room, where even more petals lay on the bed, perfectly forming the shape of a heart.

“It’s so beautiful I almost don’t want to ruin it,” you proclaim.

Wonwoo raises his eyebrow at you.

“Hey, I said almost.”

Without a word he smiles, pulling you in so he can grab the hem of your sweater, gently pulling it over your head to reveal the lacy bra you had chosen to wear today.

“So pretty,” he remarks as he runs his hands over your breasts, before reaching around your back to undo the clasp. “But even prettier without.”

He tosses the bra aside, taking your tits in his hands. You begin to undo his shirt buttons, revealing his incredibly toned body that still turns you on so much every time you see it. His shirt gone, you move to his belt. You unbuckle it and pull it off, throwing it to the floor as you take the bulge in his pants in your palm. He lets out a soft groan as you caress him, his erection quickly growing. You go to unfasten his pants, the taut fabric giving way as you undo the zipper, his cock now bulging through his underwear, begging to escape. 

Wonwoo suddenly grabs you by the hips, twirling you around and pushing you onto the bed. 

“Get comfy, babe.”

As you recline into the soft pillows, he removes his pants and then begins to take off yours, pulling them off of you in one go. He gently pushes your inner thighs open and situates himself right in between your legs, the only barrier between his face and your cunt being the thin lacy underwear that do nothing to hide how wet you are right now. He softly kisses your clit a few times, then licks a stripe over the sheer fabric. You run your hand through his hair as he starts kissing your clit again, this time more intensely. You begin to squirm slightly against his face - silently begging for more. Wonwoo gazes up at you, giving you a little smirk as his lips hover right above you - so close that you feel breath against your core.

“Stop teasing meeee,” you whine.

You feel his finger slide under the fabric, pulling it aside to reveal your soaked center. You feel the sharpness of the cool air hitting you, followed by the warmth of Wonwoo’s mouth against your cunt. You mewl softly as his tongue traces against your folds, lapping up your juices but only making you wetter in the process. You continue to stroke his hair as he goes down on you, enjoying the view. You love the way his nose brushes against your clit as he alternates between sucking on the bud and fucking you with his tongue. 

Eventually you feel his fingers delicately graze your entrance - he inserts only one finger at first, but it still feels so good. 

“More,” you beg. “Please.”

Wonwoo slides a second finger into your cunt. He knows how to curve them perfectly, hitting you in just the right spot to drive you insane. He fucks you as he continues licking your clit - you become a moaning mess as your orgasm draws closer and closer. Your hips begin to buck involuntarily, grinding your cunt against his face - overwhelmed with pleasure. Wonwoo wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you down against the bed as he devours you. 

“Fuck, baby - I’m cumming,” you cry out. Your legs shake as the incredible sensation takes over your entire body, the white-hot flashes of pleasure flowing through you as your pussy throbs against your boyfriend’s tongue. 

As you come down, Wonwoo gives you soft little kitten licks. You sink into the pillows, your whole body relaxed in bliss. He kisses your stomach before crawling up, his body weight laying against you cozily as he presses his nose against yours. He kisses you, his lips and chin covered in your juices. You begin to make out, his tongue moving against yours, his bulge pressing against your core. You reach down, slipping your hand through the band of his underwear, and pull his cock out. You’ve fucked your boyfriend countless times by now, but every time you’re still in awe of his size. You wrap your hand around his thickness and stroke him a few times, causing precum to leak out. You guide his tip to your entrance - you moan as it easily slips in, his size stretching you out so perfectly. He slides his entire length into you, letting out a groan as he bottoms out. 

“Your pussy’s so perfect for me, babe,” he says in a low voice. He begins to fuck you, slowly pushing his cock in and out, letting your walls adjust to his size. 

“So good baby, fuck,” he says, practically growling. “Your pussy’s all mine.”

You moan as he picks up speed, thrusting his huge cock into you further and further. His lips meet yours again - your mouths and tongues dancing against each other as he fucks you, more passionately than ever before. 

“All mine, you’re all mine.”

“Oh my god,” you cry, tears forming in your eyes from the intense pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I’m close baby - wanna cum in you,” he groans. 

“Please,” you beg. 

Wonwoo’s rhythm picks up speed - tears are fully running down your face as you let out cries of pleasure. You feel his cock pulsate against your walls as he releases, groaning as he thrusts into you, filling you up with his cum. 

As he comes down from his high, his warm body melts into yours - he’s squishing you, but you’ve never been more comfortable. His cock still inside you, he plays with your hair as he kisses you slowly. 

You lay there together for a while. Eventually, Wonwoo slowly pulls out of you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before he gets up to grab a warm towel. After he cleans you up he plops back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in, squeezing you so tightly it makes you giggle. 

You draw your head back just enough so you can look your boyfriend in the eyes. He’s so hot, so cute, gazing at you so lovingly - you truly don’t think you’ve ever been happier than you are in this moment. 

“I love you,” you tell him - for the first time. 

You didn’t plan on saying it, it just came out naturally. Because it’s true - you love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone. 

Wonwoo smiles, caressing you softly as he holds you warmly against him. 

“I love you too.”

[end] 

[unknownarmageddon]

Christ Alive

a kross oneshot. in which they go to a party cackles

based on the song skeletone by bones uk rental suits au belongs to me and @psycho-chair

The parking lot was mostly empty, save for two, maybe three, cars. It was dark, the only thing visible in the black murk past the washed out lights of the gas station’s overhang was the passing specks of car headlights. 

    Cross leaned on the elbow he held propped on the counter, tried to tune out the mediocre mainstream music playing distantly over the store’s speakers, and watched the only customer inside idle about the shelves. 

The lights buzzed. two of the fridges against the back wall flickered every so often.

      The door chimed as it was opened, and another stranger entered. They wanted 50 dollars’ worth on pump three. And a pack of cigarettes. The door chimed again, then they were gone. 

The lights buzzed. The fridges flickered. Everything was delved in a cool colored haze. 

     The last remaining person in the store bought two drinks. With the dinging of the door as they left, a father and two kids entered. They piled their spoils, a mound of snacks, onto the counter.

      There were several minutes of vacancy. Nobody in the store but him. It felt like an eternity, always did. Cross fiddled with the shelves behind him to waste time. 

Buzzing lights. Uneven churring from the slushy machine in the back. 

        The door chimed. Footsteps, sneakers scuffing on tile. 

Cross turned, and could practically feel the grin boring into him.

Him again. 

    He was leaning forward over the counter with his arms crossed in front of him. His jacket had obtained a few new stains, both red and black. The faint, electric sound of music played from the chunky maroon headphones around his neck. 

Cross felt himself grin for a moment. He couldn’t help it.

“Hey pretty boy.” He looked at Cross with deep dark sockets. 

“Killer.” 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Killer quipped. 

    He pulled himself up to sit on the back edge of the counter, still facing Cross. Cross furrowed his brows. 

“I told you to stop sitting on the counter.”

Killer hardly considered moving. His soul hummed like even it was laughing. “You’re gonna have to make me, sweetheart.” 

Cross knew that wouldn’t have worked. And he didn’t really care, not enough to force him. 

“You miss me?” Killer quipped.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Cross replied. 

Killer laughed. “I’m wounded.” 

     Cross turned back to the shelf, and Killer slid off the counter to stand next to him. 

    “Ya got any plans tonight? Other than the blast you’re clearly havin’ already.” Killer murmured, hands shoved the pockets of his jacket. The fabric of he and Cross’s clothes brushed as they just almost touched, they were that close.

When did Cross ever have plans? He shook his head. 

Killer’s grin got wider. Cross narrowed his eyes at him. What was he planning.

     Killer hopped back over the counter and headed for one of the fridges in the back. Cross leaned over the counter on his elbows to watch him. 

“Y’know, there’s gonna be a party tonight. At ten.” Killer jerked open the door and crouched, now partially obscured by the shelf behind him. His voice came to Cross echoed by the distance.

“Where?”

“Some guy’s place in town, I dunno, all I’ve got is the address. He was really talkin’ a big talk, I wanna see if he’s full of shit or not.” Cross could tell he was grinning. He had that kinda voice. 

“And you want me to go with you.” Cross responded after a pause. 

From the fridge Killer retrieved two energy drinks. He stood and the door was closed with a shove from his foot. 

“Exactly.” 

He hesitated, apparently for dramatic effect knowing him, and waited for an answer.

“…I’m not going.” 

“C’monnn, you gotta get outta this boring ass gas station sometime. Have an actual good time.” Killer pressed.  

“I don’t do parties.”

“How bad could it possibly be?” 

“I doubt I would miss out on much.” Cross responded.

“You’d never know. Unless you go.” Killer persisted.

       Cross didn’t respond after that. He stared at the tile in front of Killer’s feet, turning the notion over in his mind. He knew damn well that if Killer wanted something he’d find a way to get it, so he doubted how much good resisting would do. 

      Killer weaved through the aisles to the middle of the store, then went for the far back. He cracked one of the energy drinks. 

“When are you gonna start paying for those?” Cross called to him. 

“You think about that party, ‘kay, pretty boy? Think about it.” Killer called back instead and pulled the headphones on. He vanished among the shelves. Cross saw the top of the storage room door as it opened, then closed.

      Cross was left alone in the store again. The trickle of costumers came and went, and he worked on autopilot. His mind was occupied by the party and the loiterer in the storage room.

     His first reaction was to not go. And he trusted that reaction. All he knew about it was that it would be loud and crammed with people he likely didn’t want to be around. And that he wouldn’t know anyone but Killer. He didn’t think— no he knew it wouldn’t be worth it. 

     But who knew how well Killer would take that news. And he kind of had a point about getting out of the gas station. 

      Cross worked for three more hours. Occasionally he would watch Killer slink from the back to steal another energy drink or two, or a bag of chips. Cross pretended not to notice. Every time Killer passed the counter he would toss a smug grin at Cross. Meant only for Cross. The kind that loosely hid all the kinds of things he would say out loud if they were alone. Cross pretended not to notice those, too. 

        He would’ve stopped him, confronted him again for never paying for what he took. But Cross didn’t exactly want to be on the receiving end of that knife he flashed the night they met. And when Killer was around he had company, and the extra shitty customers never came back. It was a fair trade. So what if a few cans went missing here and there. 

        When Cross’s shift came to an end he left the counter in favor of the storage room. The smell of smoke flooded his nose the minute he pushed open the door. It wasn’t invasive, but it was noticeable enough whenever you walked in. It’d always smelled like smoke in here, after Killer showed up.

           The culprit sat on the floor in the corner beside the door. He had fully tucked himself into that corner, in the gap between boxes and freezers that lined a few of the walls. He had one leg propped on the other, and the magazine he held obscured his face. Cross could still hear Killer’s music blasting through his headphones even from where he stood. 

“My shift’s over. You gotta leave.” Cross greeted him.

Killer pulled the headphones down and looked up over the edge of the magazine. He hadn’t heard him.

“Shift’s over.” Cross repeated. 

The music cut off; the magazine was shoved under a shelf. “You got it, boss.”

He pulled himself to his feet and left his corner to push past Cross, who tailed him in return. 

     The gas station’s front door chimed for the last time as they exited out onto the pavement in front of it. It was cold, Cross zipped up his jacket. His breath clouded in front of him as he watched insects buzz around the precious glow of the station’s lights. 

     After a moment of standing he stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around at the vacant parking lot, awkwardly awaiting for whatever Killer was going to do. He didn’t trust him enough to leave first. 

His eyes landed on him. 

“What time’s it?” Killer asked.

Cross checked his phone. “Nine forty.” 

      Killer hopped off the slight incline of the pavement and moved through the darkness. To Cross he became a raccoon you’d see outside your garage. So blanketed in darkness it doesn’t look much like anything at all. Except, his soul provided a red halo around his silhouette. 

“You comin’?” Killer called over his shoulder and stopped. It was more of a request than a question. 

Hesitation. Cross glanced to his left, then back at Killer. “No?”

“You scared, sweetheart?” Killer replied. He could barely see him, but again Cross could tell he was grinning.

“No.” 

“C’mon, just this once. It’s just a party. One time’s not gonna hurt anything.” He said. More firmly, sharply. 

Killer gestured with his head, nodding, beckoning Cross to come with him.

“You always say that.”

“Am I wrong? Let’s live a little. Nothin’s gonna happen.” He spread out his arms, turning on his heel to look back at Cross. 

Cross scowled doubtfully. He’s known Killer for long enough to at least know going anywhere with him didn’t have any guarantees of anything. 

    Killer slunk back toward Cross and grabbed him firmly by the zipper of his jacket, pulling him down so their faces were level. His face was warmed by Killer’s breath. Killer looked him over, then dead on. 

Killer huffed a laugh. “You’re scared.”

     Cross paused for a long time. A car alarm started from somewhere distant in the dark. Then it was quiet again. 

“We’ll take the truck.” He decided eventually, flatly.

      Killer’s eyes widened. He released Cross and ran for said truck, which was parked back in front of the gas station. It was small, old, and white; one of those trucks that didn’t have back seats, and the front was one long singular bench with seatbelts that just went across the lap. 

      Killer was grinning, exclaiming to himself, in his triumph. He had gotten Cross to cave, andthey were taking the truck. 

      Killer rapped on the truck’s side with his palm as he stepped along it toward the door. He tried the door prematurely, eagerly. It was still locked. Then there was a click as Cross pressed a button on the interior of the driver side door and the rest of the doors unlocked. Killer jerked his open to slide into the passenger side; Cross got in after him, with less enthusiasm. 

The key met ignition and the vehicle grumbled to life like an aged animal. 

     Its beige leather seats were long worn, its paint was chipped in spots, it was overdo for a wash, and its windows were dusty and still functioned on a crank, but it served its purpose. 

     They left the parking lot. Cross heard Killer fighting with the window beside him, but he eventually got it open. Cold air streamed into the cab. Killer leaned against the door with his shoulder out the window. His feet were kicked up onto the dash. 

    In front of the windshield, dangling from the rear view mirror, hung a silver pendant on a chain and a long-expired air freshener. 

With each imperfection in the pavement they hit the cab bumped. 

“What’s the address?” Cross asked.

     A slip of paper was dug out of Killer’s pocket and examined. He put his legs down. 

“Left, up here.” He pointed, the turn signal clicked in time.

“Go for a bit,” He said now. “Here,” 

“Right, past here and down that road,”

     They drove for a while, mostly in silence save for Killer’s directions and occasional quips or broken humming.   Sometimes the headlights of a passing car or a lone streetlight would illuminate the cab; otherwise it was dark. 

Killer pointed at the windshield again. 

They were here. 

      What Cross saw was the front of an apartment building, one a few notches nicer than his own. That building immediately set the tone for the whole party in stone in Cross’s mind. It was fucking intimidating. He shouldn’t be here. 

   He glanced over at Killer, who was already slipping out of the truck. Cross inhaled and followed. 

———

       Upbeat music he’s heard everywhere a million times blasted through the apartment. Talking, laughing, shouting, all joined it. Lights everywhere, sounds everywhere. So many people were crammed in this single space.

     Cross was made hyper-aware of the presence of the other guests. The way they were dressed, the way they held themselves. They belonged here, he didn’t.

      He became Killer’s shadow. He kept his arms tight to his side, his eyes trained on his feet and Killer’s stride. He followed directly behind him as his companion sauntered through the apartment.

       They collected a few stares. What a sight they must be, two stupid boys wading through somewhere they shouldn’t be, one with stains on his clothes and one in a plain black jacket he’s had since high school. One with oil flowing from his eye sockets, one with an old rusted pickup. 

          Cross liked to imagine the things they whispered to themselves as the skeletons passed. Exclamations of surprise, of judgement. Eyes glued. 

     But, in reality, no one said anything. No one heckled them. He even doubted that many people were paying attention to them. Even still he was all too aware. 

      Finally, he and Killer breached the thick of the waves. Killer was saying something to another guest as he handed Cross a plastic cup of red liquid, which he accepted without much thought. 

“Whad’ya think?” Killer asked Cross and leaned against the table. He gestured with his free hand at everything around them like he was showing it all off. He held his own beverage in the other hand, Cross clutched his with both. 

    Cross didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to think. It was loud. There were way too many people. He’d decide eventually, he thought. 

     Killer lifted his cup to his mouth, then paused and lowered it. He deadpanned at it. 

“This tastes like shit.” 

Cross half-laughed, Killer grinned. 

      They stayed at that table for the duration of three, maybe four, songs. Killer did most of the talking. Cross only listened, offering the occasional hum in agreement or comment. Killer would point out people in the crowd he found notable for whatever reason to him. Made jokes, teased, rambled about menial things. He complained about the music, but he still tapped his finger against his cup in time. 

       Cross kept searching Killer, trying to figure him out. He wondered if he noticed how out of place they were. Or if he cared. But then he thought about it more, and he doubted he did.

     The song changed; Cross didn’t recognize this one. It was slower, but not melancholy. Carried by a steady rhythm and smooth electric guitar. Like the pounding of rain on concrete at night. 

Killer glanced up. “Fuckin’ finally, something good.”

     He set his cup down and pulled away from the table. “Alright I’m tired of standin’.” 

He stood with his back turned a moment, surveying the crowd, thumbs jammed in his shorts pockets, before he swiveled to offer his hand to Cross. “C’mon, you gonna do me the honor?” 

    Cross retracted, set his cup down and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket like he was hiding them. 

“I don’t dance.”

Maybe he would, in any other circumstance. When there weren’t so many people.

“Fuck babe, what do you do?” Killer replied. The corner of his mouth ticked up. 

    He pulled back toward Cross to nudge him with his elbow like he was trying to push him forward. 

“Dude,” Cross laughed. 

“We’re at a party, you gotta dance at least once.” He argued. “It’ll just be me, don’t worry about them.”

Cross conceded. “Just for this song, alright?”

    Cross quickly learned that Killer didn’t know how to dance either. They devolved into a mess of movements, a tangle of limbs. Killer held a hand to Cross’s hip, Cross held one to Killer’s shoulder. Occasionally their hands would intertwine. 

      They exchanged steps off-rhythm. Killer was quick, Cross took strides to catch him. 

      Cross continued to be aware of the other dancers, even here. He couldn’t shake them from his mind. He wasn’t nearly as coordinated, and he had a habit of staying too stiff and rigid. But Killer had enough confidence for both of them.

       All Cross saw was the carpet, his eyes glued to their feet. Making his best effort not to trip. Or get stepped on. He risked a glance up at Killer’s face. He was grinning with the most actual enthusiasm Cross had seen from him tonight, and it became infectious. 

“You keepin’ up, pretty boy?” Killer asked, catching Cross and keeping him from looking back down. 

“You’re horrible at this.” Cross replied.

“And you dance like you’ve taken ballet since kindergarten.” Killer scowled, but his eyes were still grinning. 

     In the last remaining minute of the song they slowed, swayed, leaning into each other. They let the wave of other dancers surge around them. Killer hooked an arm around Cross’s neck, Cross laid his over his shoulders. Cross watched him, awaiting his next move silently. 

Killer took Cross’s left hand and pressed a slow kiss to his knuckles.

Cross decided this party wasn’t that bad, at least.

          Killer’s song ended. They untangled. Cross followed Killer as he slunk over to the apartment’s kitchen, where refreshments were strewn over the counters. The nearby balcony’s door was propped open, and Cross lingered there in the opening. Cool outside air hit his back. 

       Now Killer was chatting up another guy at the table. Like he always did when they went out anywhere. As if out of habit. Cross disregarded them; all he heard was Killer say “is that a challenge?”.  He would’ve dwelled on it more, been more bothered, but he put his attention on everyone else. He scanned the crowd like he expected to be jumped. 

   Beside him Killer returned and he felt him press up against him. He knew he was grinning. His hand wandered Cross’s arm, then his back. He smelled like smoke. What was he after. 

Cross’s face grew warm. His shoulders tensed. But he averted his eyes, kept his focus on the crowd. 

     His gaze landed on one woman in particular, not far from the table. She was surrounded by her own group of people, but for some reason she was staring directly at him, both of them. With this look in her eye.

      Her lips, which were covered in a red smothering of lipstick, ticked down in a grimace. 

What a sight they must be. 

      A wildfire of anger burst up through Cross. His bones grew hot, like he was being burned by it. She made him so fucking mad. He couldn’t process why.

      She hadn’t even said anything. Not yet. But he knew she would. It was a matter of time, with the way she was  looking at them. 

     Cross searched her, trying to gauge her. He knew these kinds of people all too well. 

   He returned her look in a blank stare. In it, he silently poured out every bit of desire he had to wipe that look off on the wall behind her. He doubted he’d actually do something, though. It wasn’t worth whatever hell would come of it. 

Still, it leaked into his voice.

“Someone’s staring.” He said, quietly, and Killer retracted slightly.

      He followed Cross’s gaze. His grin fell. The soul in front of his chest flickered, becoming an unstable ever-shifting shape far from a circle. To Cross it resembled a star nearing on a supernova. 

      He wasn’t being nearly as discrete as Cross; he glared back at her with just as much anger. If not more. Like a dog with teeth bared. 

 His voice dripped venom. “I’ll deal with ‘er.”

     Cross’s companion pulled away from the table and over to the woman. Each step carried a buried intention, buried fury, with it.

Cross felt like someone’s gonna die. 

     Cross blinked and Killer was already in front of her. She said something to him, and he heard Killer shout back at her. He blinked again and Killer’s fist was flying. The woman’s head skewed to the side unnaturally, awkwardly. Then she fell to a heap on the carpet; A painted lady sprawled across the floor like a body bag. 

       She struggled to her elbows, coughed blood onto the carpet. The tease of a grimace became a full-fledged snarl. Her pretty prim lipstick was smeared. 

Cross didn’t hear anything. Hardly even saw anything but Killer and the woman. Only the pounding of blood in his ears and flashing lights in the corner of his vision. 

A needle of sudden anxiety, anticipation, stabbed Cross. Nothing good was gonna come from this.

If they hadn’t been before, everyone was certainly staring now. 

     The few nearest were on Killer like a pack of wolves to a carcass.

Someone was gonna die. 

       The surge consumed Killer. Shouting roared over the music. Cross barely saw him as he clawed, fought, screamed. Grinned. The suddenness of it all startled Cross out of his anger. 

     Two attackers were thrown back, blood streaming from their noses. Two more took their place. 

       At some point Killer’s jacket slipped,  leaving shoulders exposed. And one of his sleeves was torn now. Bits of bleach-white bone were visible like Cross was peaking through a break in the blinds. 

         For a moment, he just stood and watched. Watched Killer fight like an animal. Admired the fluidity of his movements. Stared into the flames. 

God,

He couldn’t help it. 

Maybe this is what he came to this dumb party for. 

       Killer got tackled by two guys much larger than him and Cross, simultaneously, was thrown into the mess by someone behind him he didn’t see. It was like he was in a hornet’s nest. It was confusing, loud, violent. He didn’t know what to do, how to do it.

        Somehow, he gathered himself and he and Killer managed to push back the swarm. Everything broke like oil and water, if only for a moment. 

        Killer now stood on Cross’s right, clutching his wrist tight in his hand. On the other, his left, was a smear of red lipstick. He held it curled in a fist. 

Cross’s magic pounded in his ears.

    There was a single heartbeat of still, then they were on them again, just as quick. They tore at them, stampeded over them. Except now Cross was in the middle of it. And at that moment he wanted to be anywhere else. But he didn’t really, either. This was where Killer was. 

It became war.

     Like with dancing, Cross wasn’t as confident a fighter as Killer. And he doubted his skills. But he wasn’t harmless, he hoped. 

      He tried to stay close to Killer, to not lose him to it all. That became his only goal. To not lose Killer, and to survive. 

      Cross grabbed another guy by the shirt and pulled him off of Killer, then had to spin to push someone different back with a strike from the elbow. It was overwhelming, smothering. Everyone on every side at all times. 

        Occasionally he got glances of Killer as he would stumble backward, only to run back in, laughing. He never stayed in range of who he fought, always jumping in and back out. Circling, a wolf nipping at the ankles of an elk. But he hit hard, knew what he was doing. 

          Warm blood ran into Cross’s eye, obscuring his vision. He must’ve busted an eyebrow. 

         Even before that, his vision became blurred. All he saw were movements. He focused everything on not drowning. Where was Killer? He had lost sight of him at some point. But the thought was ripped from his mind as he sustained a kick to the back and staggered. He gritted his teeth and returned the hit, pushed someone he didn’t see long enough to identify away. He rammed someone else with his shoulder. 

      Then he took another, harder, blow. This time to the side of the head. He felt like his whole skull was jarred and he staggered again, almost falling this time. 

Someone grabbed his wrist. 

It was Killer.

     He ripped Cross from it all, fingers dug into his arm. Then they were running. He knew they were being followed. Killer shouted something. At some point they were in a stairwell, descending. Pounding in his skull was all he heard. 

Suddenly, cold night air.

They were outside. There was Cross’s truck.

       They ran to it and pulled the door’s open so hard he was surprised they weren’t thrown off their hinges. They were slammed closed just as hard.

       Cross stuck the keys in the ignition and turned as fast as he could manage. 

       Six remaining pursuers flooded from the apartment. They tried to follow, yelled curses and profanities. 

“Go, go, go!” Killer shouted.

“I’m trying!”

     They pulled out and ended back on the road. 

      Finally, things started to slow back down. But Cross still felt like he wasn’t there. He felt like he was still at that party, busting his knuckles on strangers out for his blood. He didn’t even feel relief yet, that they were in the safety of Cross’s truck now. He didn’t feel much of anything.

    The first thing Cross fully registered was Killer slamming his arm on the side of the door four times. “Holy shit!” 

He put his hand to his head. “Holy shit.” 

    He was making an expression Cross couldn’t read, or place. Was it excitement? Surprise? Detest? Fear? Maybe just adrenaline. He was grinning. But he always was. His eyes were wide. Like he had just gotten off a rollercoaster. 

Cross glanced at him again after checking the road. “You’re bleeding.”

He was, from the nose. 

“So’re you.” 

     Cross put a finger to his eyebrow and felt warm liquid. The wound stung, he just now noticed. He wouldn’t notice the rest of his pain until much later, when the adrenaline was out of his system. 

“Dude that was fucking insane.” Killer breathed. He almost laughed as he said it. 

“It was worth it, though.” He added. “God, getting to wipe that look off her face,” 

“Mm,” Cross hummed absently. Was it worth it? Part of him agreed silently. 

“Showed her. Fucking showed her.” Killer continued, mostly to himself.

      “You’re alright?” Cross asked, eyes pinned to the road. He still felt jittery. He hated having to sit here this long. 

“Oh, what, me? Yeah I’m fine, I’m fine. Nothin’ I can’t handle.” Killer replied. He wiped at his nose, then cleaned the remaining lipstick from his hand on his jacket. 

He was so… unaffected. Like this was an everyday occurrence for him. Maybe it was. 

      Cross rubbed the blood from his brow again. It hadn’t stopped bleeding yet. He wondered how bad it was. But he didn’t check the rearview mirror for his reflection. 

He felt Killer’s eyes on him.

“It’s a look, y’know.” Killer quipped. 

Cross laughed quietly. “What, having dried blood on my face?”

      They drove in silence for a while. Cross’s soul was still pounding. At some point he collected himself enough to remember to put on his seatbelt. He listened to the occasional clicking of the turn signal and Killer’s mindless tapping. It grounded him, pulled him away from the party. 

“I didn’t know you could fight like that.” Killer said eventually. “Didn’t think you had it in ya.” 

“I was just trying not to get killed.” Cross responded dryly, like it was a fact. He hadn’t thought it was that impressive. 

Killer laughed. Even though it was the truth.

“Wasn’t too bad, either. I could teach ya a thing or two, though. If you wanted.” 

Killer offered with a grin.

Cross considered it just for a moment. “I think I’m fine.”

“Your loss. You think about it, ‘kay?” Killer replied. “I’d love t’see what you could do if you knew what you were doin’” 

Cross just hoped he wouldn’t find himself in a situation where he needed to know what he was doing.

      Killer leaned forward to start messing with the truck’s radio. He flicked through stations and static. 

“I didn’t expect that many people to come after us.” Cross said. 

“Yeah, god, it was like everyone at that party was pissed.”

“What’d she say? I saw her say something to you.” Cross asked.

“What d’you think? Some stupid shit about us. I dunno, I don’t remember.” Killer said, scowling at the radio. Cross knew he remembered, but he didn’t press. 

Killer eventually found a station he was satisfied with and leaned back. Now a loud, quick, shouty rock song Cross hadn’t heard quietly filled the background of the cab. 

Killer stretched out his arms. “Well, I’d consider tonight a success.” 

Cross stared at him.

Killer laughed. “Eyes on the road, sweetheart,”

———

        After what felt like an eternity they ended up at Cross’s apartment. Cross fumbled with keys to unlock the door and they stumbled inside. Everything was dark, lit only by the lights of the street and a standing lamp near the door Cross bothered to flick on as they entered. 

        The first thing Cross did was go for the fridge in the conjoined kitchen. It was mostly empty, but he found a cold canned drink and tossed it to Killer. He pressed it to limbs, to his face, soothing the bruises he had acquired. 

         He had a faint, dark ring around one of his eye sockets in the start of a black eye. Cross took his wrist and slowly, firmly, guided his hand to the socket. 

“You caused a lot of trouble.” Cross murmured, sighing, as he held his hand there. 

“You saw the way she was looking at us.” Killer replied sharply.

Cross retracted his hand, stood there to look at him. “Still,” 

“She was basically just askin’ for it, anyway. No one else was gonna do it.” Killer argued.

“I think I’m gonna have a headache for a week. Thanks to you.” Cross said, though he was just barely smiling.

“You’re welcome.” Killer grinned.

“Mm.”

          After, the can was handed back to Cross. It was just barely warmer, just barely flecked with blood. He pressed it to his own bruises, and to his eyebrow. The start of a headache stabbed at him. 

            Cross watched Killer as he fixed his jacket from where it had fallen off his shoulders. Just as closely as when he had watched him fight.

He felt both of them linger there, unsure. Awkward. Mutually asking “what now?”

“Well, it’s been a hell of a night, but I better be gettin’ outta here. I’m a busy man, y’know.” Killer said finally, flicking up his hood over his head. 

“Already?” Cross asked. 

Of course.

“Don’t worry, you’re not gettin’ rid of me that easy. I’ll be back.” Killer said, brushed up against Cross as he headed for the door, grinning up at him. He caught Cross’s hand and held it in his for just a moment. 

      ‘I’ll be back’ could’ve meant a myriad of things. Cross could see him tomorrow. Maybe in a few hours, even. Or he could see him next in however many days.

      Cross’s mouth teased a smile and he shook his head. He followed him to the doorway, where Killer lingered, holding the door open with one hand. 

It sounded like it was raining outside. 

     For some reason, in that moment Cross remembered what Killer had said at the gas station, before they left. 

His eyes widened, then narrowed at him. “You’re such a liar. You said nothing would happen.” 

“Your favorite liar.” Killer grinned.

    He leaned farther through the doorway toward him and pressed a kiss to Cross’s teeth, as if it was some kind of weird apology. It tasted like smoke. And blood. Cross let it happen, didn’t want it to end as quick as it did. 

“We should do this again sometime.” 

Then it was over, Killer was gone, and all Cross saw was the door as it clicked closed.

[iocity]

ASL ‘Merica AU where Ace is the only one who can make coffee. Sabo can cook (mediocrely, Ace is much better) and usually does due to Ace being so “free-spirited” (a whore). But Ace is usually back in the morning to make the coffee because if anyone else makes it, it tastes like hot dooky water. One time Luffy tried to make it and they all feared for their credit scores (he almost burned their rented home down). Luffy, despite being very knowledgeable in food, cannot cook for shit. Sure he knows what is healthy and what plants grow where, but applying them in the kitchen?? Danger and destruction to everyone involved. Usually Luffy just ends up backseat cooking (standing next to them, wrapped up in a blanket and telling them how he wants it cooked). Sabo doesn’t mind it much, since he is quite particular with his food too. But Ace?? Oh he is pissed. If there is one thing that will start an argument in the ASL household, it’s questioning his culinary prowess. Sure he’s no Sanji, but he’ll be damned if the only person in the house who can’t cook tells him how to. Usually when Ace is cooking, Luffy is a) keeping his peace and deciding to yap about his day or b) in the time out chair while Ace curses with every movement he makes.

Despite that, cooking and eating together is very important for all of the brothers. When Ace moves away for school, both of the brothers feel that the empty space on the couch is overwhelming. No more arguments, no more specially Ace-made meals on birthdays and holidays, and no more brotherly bonding time (till summer of course). Sure when they can they’ll call during mealtimes, but it isn’t like him being there. It wasn’t the same rushing home to eat because Ace insisted their food be hot. Luffy is affected the most by his absence. Sabo had gotten used to eating alone as a child, so it was a familiar concept that he could (unfortunately) go back to handling; Luffy on the other hand had always had someone to eat with. When it wasn’t Garp or Garp’s “old people” friends, it was Dadan and the boys. He felt childish and immature for feeling so sad when Ace left, especially since he knows Ace would never have left if he could help it.

It’s on one particularly bad day that Luffy feels the gap in their house the most. After a long exhausting day of running from the cops (for vandalism) all he wants to do is be around the people he loves most. So he calls up his friends, wanting to just hang around them, maybe play a video game or go outside and wander. He is instead met with a chorus of no’s to which he complains about GREATLY. Nami has to go out and handle “some business” (whatever that means), Sanji has to cut Zoro’s and Ussop’s hair (Sanji is very particular about noise since he isn’t professionally trained), Chopper and Franky are working on a big project (something about mechanical blah blah blah) and can’t be distracted, Brook has a gig in another state, Robin has classes to teach, and Jimbei is babysittting for a friend. Law didn’t answer which usually meant he was at the hospital, and Luffy hated that place. They wouldn’t be free till later, and Luffy was bored now. So, he came home hoping to see Sabo but was met with a note on the counter about how he had to finish a project and wouldn’t be home till later. Luffy felt exceedingly lonely, and he HATES feeling lonely more than anything else. When he is alone, his boredom makes way for thought, and thought makes way for headaches. So, he calls Ace. It rings once, then twice before…

“What’s up ya lil’ crybaby?” Ace’s voice rings out flatly despite his happiness that his little brother called.

“I’m borrreed. And hungry. I’m hungry and bored and no one is around.” Luffy whines miserably, head on the kitchen table as he kicks his feet.

“WOMP WOMP wah wah wah get over it loser.”

“Asshole.”

“Shitface.”

“Doodoohead”

“That’s basically the exact same thing I just said dumbass. Why don’t you just go hang out with one of your delinquent friends?” Ace queries with a chuckle before a crashing sound clangs out loudly and a slew of colorful curses leave his mouth.

“They are all busy…” Luffy mumbles through a pout, his hands drumming a soft beat into the table to distract him from the fact that one of his brothers is halfway across the country, one is a workaholic (he actually has a very average work schedule; Luffy is just dramatic), and none of his friends can hang. Ace is silent for a while, before a video call notification is popping up on Luffy’s phone, a wide smile replacing his pout as he picks up.

“So we meet again foul fiend,” Ace grins, his teeth and nose only visible as he shuffles with his phone, “I’m super fucking busy by the way, you should be glad I’m taking this precious and majestic time to call my dumbass brother.”

Luffy laughs gleefully, ignoring the insult in favor of grabbing his phone and tossing it on the couch, yelling out a quick, “I’ll be back!”

“Don’t throw your dearest brother!” Ace yells from the mic as Luffy cackles his way down the hallway and back, game in hand. He sets the phone up to where he won’t have to touch it but him and Ace are still visible when he returns; he laughs again with a stupid grin as he settles into the couch. Ace has adjusted the phone in his absence, now his face and torso are showing, his hands and eyes focusing on something out of frame as his hat hangs loosely on the back of his neck.

“So you’re just gonna sit here while I’m workin’ and taunt me with freedom?? Didn’t you say you were hungry?? Why aren’t you eating?? You should eat go eat. Matter fact, go learn to cook for once,” Ace blabbers worriedly, his concern thinly veiled by his teasing.

“Keep distracting me and I will. Besides, I want your cooking right now, so I don’t wanna eat anything else.”

Ace’s face contorts in horror at his threat, before softening slightly and sighing, his lips pursing into an almost motherly glare.

“Look Luffy, you know I would be home all the time, but I have to do this. We’ll have enough money to move out and pay for college. It’s somethin’ I gotta do for all of us to live freely. Even if I’m not there, ya gotta eat and take care of yourself,” Ace lectures, his hands still working on something out of frame, his eyes focusing on the task despite the frown he adorned on his face, “And-“

“Don’t lecture me, I know already. I don’t care about any of that. I miss y’all,” Luffy is obstinate about it, crossing his arms and regarding the screen of his phone with deep displeasure, “I don’t wanna miss anyone, ever.”

“We know you don’t care, that’s why we do it instead, ya crybaby,” Ace says simply, cursing again as he leans into whatever he is working on, his head leaving the frame, “Life ain’t perfect.”

Luffy is silent for a moment, his frown deepening as he puts his game to the side. Groaning in displeasure, he gets up, grabs his phone, and walks to the kitchen to eat. He snags a random frozen meal, albeit begrudgingly, and waits for it to cook while looking at the phone boredly, “Let’s all just be pirates.”

“Fix your face; pirates don’t even exist anymore. Besides, who knows who could appear within the next week.” Ace’s mischievous tone soars over Luffy’s head as he lets out a loud, “Huh?”

“Semester is over next week asshat.”

“Yeah. I got finals, so what…” Luffy pauses, racking his brain for insults but coming up short, “welder…”

“That sucked assss bro. I did not raise you like this,” Ace laughs, a thumbs down entering the frame before continuing with its work.

Luffy grins feeling happier and more energetic after some yapping, and he dances as he grabs his meal quickly before sitting down and starting to devour it, pausing only to say, “Oh yeah, that necklace you left?? I stole it, it’s mine now.”

“HE-“

“I’m gonna go steal plants from the big ass garden down the street again! Bye!”

Ace is about to yell as the line clicks, his precious necklace that he accidentally left last visit and dumbass brother only fueling his annoyance. He shakes his head, his hair falling over his face as his eyes refocus on the orange, red, and blue stones he is trying to link into a pendant with gold wire; his hands are tired from the work.

“He better run me my shit back when I give him this, fucking criminal.”

Tags >:D: @porschethemermaid

ASL AU Masterlist!

[anonzentimes]

zen am i just projecting or am i cooking when i say komahina are both soooo incredibly anxiety disorder coded

like i’ll start with nagito bc to me that one’s more obvious. this guy has ocd. holy SHIT nagito has ocd. and it’s completely reasonable for him to have developed it! his luck means that things go wrong for very little reason all the time, he knows the luck has Rules to it, of course he’d develop little “rituals” (read: compulsions) to try to minimize bad luck. plus, frontotemporal dementia often causes symptoms of ocd as well (though i’d argue he very well could have developed the disorder before his diagnosis). nagito is always so convinced that Something Bad is going to happen Because Of Him even if he has nothing to do with the situation. “xyz thing happened earlier so something awful will happen now” that is obsessive-compulsive thinking!!! i just know he counts every step and Has to close doors 8 Times “just in case.” he probably has some form of moral ocd as well considering how convinced he is that he’s a terrible person who isn’t worth anything. oh and of course he doomspirals like no fucking other

as for hajime. i might really be projecting with this one but also i’m Right. generalized anxiety disorder. his primary fear response is fight. hajime is so stressed out about everything all the time and this is why he’s kind of bitchy. he’s Anxious. you see this a lot in the prologue where even before monokuma shows up hajime Is Not Trusting Of This Situation bc what the fuck!!! where is he!! what do you MEAN just enjoy it how did he get here!!! he’s surrounded by strange people on a strange island with a fucking stuffed rabbit and you expect him to NOT freak out??? hello??? he passed out for sure bc his adrenaline response got so intense that his blood pressure got weird and oh down he goes. but it also shows in subtler ways. his thought patterns and constant questioning of things— he overthinks a LOT, from monokuma’s plans to why his classmates are Like That to I Must Be So Normal to his mystery talent to What Is Nagito’s Deal Actually. in the prologue and chapter one, nagito gets hajime to calm down by distracting him— specifically, he teases hajime and riles him up. this gives him a healthy outlet to put that fight response energy into, and thus the anxiety recedes. hajime calls himself a “coward” in nagito’s 5th (? maybe 4th) fte— before i got my gad diagnosis, i thought of myself as being overly sensitive and nervous— hajime, who isn’t very good at deciphering emotions in general (likely due to not being able to talk about them at home but that’s a different story), would probably see his anxiety and identify it as cowardice. he also just… worries. constantly. about everything. whenever a classmate goes missing, whenever nagito goes missing (he proceeds to question WHY he’s worrying with nagito a lot which ties back to the overthinking), whenever anything new happens on the island, etc. mainly though i think hajime’s gad shows in his insecurities. he is deeply afraid of mediocrity, of his best not being enough. i think a lot of his fears stem from the idea of being forgettable or unremarkable— he wants to make an impact on the world, and the thought of dying before he can, whether it be in the killing game or just the rat race of life, horrifies him. but he doesn’t know who he is, he doesn’t know how to make that impact. he’s terrified that he, hajime hinata, is not enough. that he’s boring, unremarkable, destined to be just another salaryman, part of the mob. that’s why he worries about his talent so much, that’s why it hurts so much when nagito starts treating him worse in chapter 4 (someone who was once his biggest source of comfort is now affirming his worst fears), and that’s why he was such a good target for the kamukura project. hpa saw his insecurity and fear and preyed on it. most people wouldn’t sacrifice themselves for some experimental project. but when you’ve fought to get to a place that you pray will be able to make you special, and they tell you “we can make you special, but it will change who you are,” and you Don’t Like who you are because you feel deep down that who you are will never be enough, well. why wouldn’t you take the offer? you get to Be Something. you get to make an impact. who cares if you lose yourself? that guy was boring.

ANYWAYS that got away from me a little bit. i could keep going (like abt hajime’s fight response and nagito’s fawn response) but this ask is long enough lmao. point it they both have undiagnosed anxiety disorders i know it i Know It please tell me you see what i see

Hii!!! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get around to answering this! I was waiting for a good moment to type up a response since I think such a long ask, especially from an oomf, deserves a thought out reply. To be straightforward and simple: yes, absolutely yes! I think the interpretations that Hajime has anxiety disorder and Nagito has ocd is very fitting. I don’t know as much about ocd as I do about anxiety, so I don’t really talk about it in fear that I may be rude or inaccurate, but I definitely so heavily agree every time I see it. As for the anxiety disorder I’m not sure if I really have it but my anxiety is a pain and I am taking supplements and have started taking meds for it recently (fingers crossed those actually do anything helpful), but this is to say that I relate to Hajime a lot in those sort of moments and when you phrase it like that I realize it is probably because of the anxiety he experiences alongside his character beats. For Nagito I can say, “Yeah! Everybody makes such great points about him having Ocd! I really like that interpretation even if I don’t know about it as much,” and then with Hajime it’s like “Yes! This is canon to me I know about this and I say so and relate to him and it fits incredibly well!” :D

also lowkey I’ve been having that weird feeling where I miss them,,, and reading this has made me miss them less so thank you very much hehe I love Hajime and Nagito very much and agree with your points heavily, appreciate you sending this!

[ocdeeznut]

In rewatching s8 i have some thoughts. Why it didn’t work as an ending, and what i think could have been changed.

WARNING THIS POST IS LONG AS FUCK, so strap in if you’re interested.

- The feel of the writing is distinctly off. Not bad, but it doesn’t feel like you’re watching Voltron anymore. It feels grittier and more like a high stakes adult animation than the other seasons. Which, again, isn’t necessarily bad, but the shift is too quick and it could have been executed better if they spent more time digging into the individual characters and their growth during s6/7.

- The issue of ‘there’s always a bigger enemy’ starts to make the plot feel stale. You get bored of a bigger robot, higher stakes, more to lose. They start killing people and planets for a cheap audience reaction when we weren’t all that invested in the first place. It felt like a split second decision by the writers to destroy Olkarion. Something like that needs to be pencilled in from the beginning. There were too many attacks on Olkarion, and as a consequence we got too used to seeing it’s people in peril. There should’ve been a distinct shift where we, as the audience, realised Voltron wasn’t going to be there to save them this time. Whether that’s a writing, animation or atmospheric issue i’m unsure. Maybe it’s just a me thing.

- The Atlas should never have been able to transform. That for me was the biggest investment turn off. Why do we need Voltron anymore if there’s a bigger, stronger robot on their side? If they were going to replace the castle, they should have made it clear and stuck with the intention. That’s not a support ship anymore, that’s something else entirely. I’d gladly watch a show JUST about the Atlas, with Shiro at the helm, but it’s not Voltron.

- Too many things happen at once, and it’s massively convoluted. 13 episodes is not enough time to: introduce a romance, have me actually care about that romance, kill off a main character, form a new version of voltron, redeem three main antagonists, AND cutely tie up all the glaring plot holes of the show. S8 needed to be two seasons at least. If things were spread out and more passion was pumped into the writing, it could’ve worked.

- Allura’s character was ruined. She became a nagging, reckless, martyred love interest. I love her dearly, i have from S1, but they did her SO dirty. Lance, too. They both deserved better.

- I think, personally, that Sendak should’ve been the final villain. Not Honerva. Her arc was rushed and her CORE motivation made little sense. They used the flimsy excuse of her corruption to redeem her love for Lotor, and his name was literally raked through hell and back for a very mediocre payoff. If that was the plan from the start, it needed to be hinted at more.

- There was too much, as i call it, flip-flopping. The alteans are alive, now they’re evil, now they’re not. We can’t get into Oriande, but now we can! Personally, i need explanations, and strict universal rules. If those rules are to be broken for whatever reason - it has to be a show stopping exception and a main event. Everything is excused and explained away when it doesn’t make any sense.

- Now, i actually really likes the subtle art style and animation adjustments in the season, visually it was spectacular so i have no critiques there. If only the plot could have done its outer shell some justice.

AND GET LANCE OFF THAT DAMN FARM.

[anxresi]

Chloe Bourgeois and the show’s overall treatment of her...

To me, it’s like… imagine a scenario where Leonardo Da Vinci stood near the throngs of visitors at the Louvre screaming “STOP admiring my Mona Lisa! It’s just a stupid painting that’s now overshadowed the rest of my work! If you don’t stop… I’ll… paint a silly moustache and goofy glasses on the portrait… so NO ONE will like it!”

Sadly, what creators like Thomas Astruc don’t realize is that most people tend to have long memories, and won’t forget the former glory of their creations even if they ripped the originals into a billion pieces. Their childish pettiness and jealousy also has a habit of working to the detriment of their work, as it not only affects the target of their ire but also the rest of their product as a whole.

I mean, think of what we COULD’VE gotten with Chloe after S2. I’m not just talking about any potential redemption arc hopes now (which I accept have well and truly tossed in the garbage by this point) but the immediate aftermath… the tenuous bond she could’ve forged with the rest of the Miraculous Squad as Queen Bee the Anti-Hero, the parallel between that and trying to build bridges as a former bully with those she used to pick on and are rightly suspicious of her, the impact this would’ve had the other characters as they come to terms with the ‘new’ Chloe, the newfound loving paternal relationship she might’ve had with her dad when she stops demanding things every few minutes, her mother desperately trying and failing to bring back the ‘Chlorine’ she raised to be a monster to take over her fashion empire one day…

Sounds great, don’t it? ‘Well not for you, any of that! Let’s introduce a boring Mary Sue-type who’ll never have any development to take Chloe’s place! Then we’ll slowly turn her into more and more of an intolerable brat over three seasons, culminating in a flashback episode that basically retcons half the show and leaves Chloe 100% to blame for ALL of Marinette’s problems! Not only that, let’s see how many other supporting characters like Kim we can destroy and drag down with her! Who cares about them, anyway? It’s all a means to an end in ‘sticking it’ to the audience that we, THE STUDIO, are in charge, and not a bunch of dumb fans who like complex personalities and slow character burns! If we give you zero-dimensional sociopaths and non-existent continuity that’s what you’re gonna get! And you’ll LIKE it!!’

Actually, no I don’t. And in the headlong rush to smash up everything Chloe and Queen Bee-related to replace it with that featureless dollop of nothing known as Zoe/Vesperia, I actually think they’ve damaged Miraculous as a brand irreparably. Maybe not among the ‘target audience’, but certainly amongst a lot of older fans and leaves me thinking that this lack of ambition, along with plenty of other notably bad writing decisions, will consign this show to forever be considered as ‘mediocre kiddy fodder’ in the future rather than the animated classic the great premise would suggest. Talk about self-ruination.

Oh well, life goes on. Plenty of other good stuff to watch, so can’t get too down about it all. Thanks for reading, & have a nice day. 😇

[raitobie]

So I lied, I’m hurting Light juuuust a little bit. So continuing on with Raitobie pre-relationship lore (I really restart this process every two months. I’m not a writer y’all this is a TASK), Light goes to university and dates as per normal to break up the monotony in his life as well fulfill societal expectations and obligations alongside pursuing his goal of running the NPA…

…Except that his bullshit pick-up tactics don’t fly with women in a regular adult setting in the long run, and he gets dumped repeatedly by multiple otherwise nice and attractive girlfriends for ultimately being condescending and emotionally unavailable when they want the relationship to progress further.

Light initially brushes off the first of his failed relationships as women just being too emotional as they are, but then it starts to get to him the umpteenth time and leaves him bitter and annoyed. Why is he being broken up with? He copes by ending things first after a while and insisting that everybody else is the problem and he just can’t be bothered with such trivial matters like romance. He’s got more important things to do.

Naturally, he catches up with Sayu when they both have free time and she asks about his love life, not even close to being up to date with Light’s disastrous dating history. “What happened to so-and-so, she was really nice!” Feeling comfortable and close enough with his little sister who is older and wiser, he’s honest about how silly women are and how there’s nobody on his level to date. Surely she’d get it and see how he’s right. He’s always right.

Sayu immediately bursts his bubble and asks him if he’s sure that it isn’t because he’s treating people as NPCs in his world and not even trying anymore to find things to appreciate because they’re not exactly like him 🗿 university has turned his sweet and doting little sister into a cold and brutal adversary LMAO.

But obviously not wanting to hold a grudge against the one person he does actually like in this rotten place they call Earth just yet, he picks up the pieces of his shattered ego and considers her words albeit with not much payoff as he keeps trying to find somebody he’s interested in. Maybe he is a little too harsh and judgemental. He just can’t pretend and go through the boring, tedious motions of connecting with somebody else. It sucks.

He’s also lowkey jealous that Sayu keeps talking about this Tobie person lately who seems to have all her admiration and respect. He was supposed to be the model older sibling figure she looks up to, not this elusive new westerner friend who knows Hideki Ryuga. So what? Ryuga is an airhead and a mediocre actor. His music isn’t so bad anymore, he supposes. But Sayu talks so fondly of her and wants them to meet. Why not? So he does.

And oh…her hair is woven into dark, long coily ropes that flow down her back. Her deep, rich complexion looks just as soft. In fact, everything about her is soft. There’s not a single harsh edge to the contours of her features and figure. He doesn’t see somebody like her everyday, he can’t stop examining her appearance. She’s pretty. Interesting Light, hmmMMMM.

Back on how soft she is, she’s very soft spoken and has a gentle and kind demeanour. She somehow makes being clumsy and carefree so graceful and effortless. She’s very humble for how accomplished she seems to be in the music industry. She’s done some impressive work with some very popular artists, Hideki included. That explains why he doesn’t hate his latest record. She’s also into some bands he happens to be into. She has good taste.

She’s quite the musician…maybe he should finally pick up an instrument like he’s been thinking. He played the piano as a kid, but it was too boring. Tobie would make for a good jam partner, it might be a nice challenge to try and keep up with her. She’s actually quite nice to have as company. She’s very pretty. It’s pretty cute how flustered and shy she gets when he teases and flirts with her.

He finds himself wondering what she’s doing while he’s at work and ruminates a little too much about how it feels when he brushes up against her while he’s alone in bed. Sayu is too damn perceptive and won’t get off his back about how single Tobie is. Tobie in utter disbelief when Light pushes his flirting a little further and asks her on a proper date.

She didn’t even consider him being into her in that way a possibility. He can’t quite understand why, there’s plenty things to like about her. He does think it’s a shame. She clearly needs some help with her self-esteem. He’s sure he can help her overcome it. He’s just got to earn her trust. He could definitely do it. He’s not the emotionally stunted jerk everyone’s made him out to be. Tobie is so sweet and understanding, she’ll definitely see him for who he is. He could show her what a good man is.

[sixlane]

hi baby,

yeah that’s right it’s me again, your secret admirer, finding any reason to take up space in your inbox. today i get to be here because it happens to be your birthday and so as i yearn for you to grace me with your presence in my own dms (yeah you hear that people of tumblr? (if you get to see this) she’s in MY dms) i wrote you a little birthday present. taking your hands in my own, gently spreading your fingers out, placing a tiny box wrapped in yellow paper tied up with a blue bow in the center of your palm, and guiding your other hand over to cover it. don’t open it until i’m gone. okay. here goes:

---

Regulus is bored.

Not a new feeling, but well, a predictable one. 

Which is boring. Hence the whole being bored thing.

He’s never felt any sort of draw to sit and nurse a mediocre drink while watching people sing poorly and make fools of themselves on a dance floor. He doesn’t even typically want to be around people let alone in his opinion the worst kind: people who are in love.

He’s, by name, one of those people. But the reality of that love does not match up with the messy, dramatic reality tv special he’s being forced to witness against his will. 

Sirius is in love. He sees it in his eyes. In the way he and Remus hold each other even with an entire room between them. They love each other.

Regulus was there. Thought he was. Still there technically speaking. 

As he watches James scream and clap and spin his brother around in ridiculous circles, his brain knows he’s watching his partner, one of the people in love on the dance floor. His heart just doesn’t–

He’s bored. Regulus is bored.

He wants it to be an awful, horrible, gut wrenching thing. To know you held love for someone for so long and know they still hold that love for you. But really, Regulus just finds it particularly inconvenient.

Especially when he pulls his eyes away from the trainwreck on the dance floor to eye the stranger who just plopped himself rather loudly at the other end of his booth.

Regulus is immediately struck by his hair. It’s dark, wild. And there happens to be long, lanky fingers running through it. He’s staring at a glint of silver glide along soft locks when a throat clears and his eyes snap down to meet deep blue indigo pools.

“Is this seat taken?”

Regulus just looks back at him in response, quirking an eyebrow and letting his eyes shift around them to indicate the booth is very clearly empty.

“Right, okay then,” the stranger huffs a breath, then downs a glass of something Regulus is pretty sure has been sitting on the table resting between them for the past hour. “I’m assuming you’re family?”

He considers ignoring the question, he does, because why should this stranger get to goad him into a conversation at a wedding. The horror. But something about him–probably the fact Regulus finds him stupidly attractive and at least at the moment, doesn’t look like a person in love–makes him want to let it happen.

“Yes,” Regulus drawls.

He watches the man shift his eyes to look out across the dance floor. Then he gets a bit caught up in the sharp lines cutting his jaw, and the piercings littering his chin, lips, nose, eyebrow–

“You’re the brother, then?”

He feels caught again. Trapped, as he stares back into piercing blue storms, a swirling angry ocean captured in each of his irises. 

“Yes.”

“Can’t really see the resemblance,” he says. And then he smiles. It’s a wicked, warped thing. Or maybe the warping is just what’s happening to every inch of Regulus’s skin.

“Who are you?” Regulus blurts, needing an anchor in reality and also unexpectedly incredibly curious about it. 

He watches the way the man’s jaw clenches, but that stupid fucking grin still somehow widens across his face.

“A friend,” he says slowly. Regulus’ eyes flicker down to his lips before returning to his eyes. Calculating.

He doesn’t recognize him, but why would he? He doesn’t know anyone here. Aside from all the people who know him.

“A friend,” he repeats, scoffing a bit and pretending he has anything to stand on. “Whose?”

The man’s eyes widen slightly before returning to normal.

“Of the…family.”

“Oh of the family, sure,” Regulus can’t help the small uptick of his lips at the man’s attempt at composure. “As we’ve just established, I’m the family. I don’t know you.”

The man smirks and leans in to let his elbows rest on the table. His head falls slightly to the side as he gazes across at Regulus with a glint in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, holding out a hand between them. “I’m Barty.”

Regulus eyes his hand and intentionally pushes himself into the back of the booth.

“You’re crashing.”

Barty lets his hand fall, Regulus watches it sit flat on the table. 

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re flailing,” he says, eyeing him up and down. “I could kick you out right now.”

Barty narrows his eyes at him and Regulus feels his gaze start to sear his skin. 

“You won’t.”

Regulus takes a shaky breath. “You don’t know that.”

Barty smirks. It’s bordering on feral. Regulus is decidedly being normal about that.

“That’s my line.”

They stare at each other through the charged haze of their own creation and Regulus feels. He feels sparks prick at his burning skin. He feels the newness of this proximity fill his brain with possibility. He feels the anticipation of more.

They sit in the loud silence for a minute, ten, he doesn’t know. But Barty breaks it.

“What’s your name?”

Regulus considers lying. Or withholding. He doesn’t.

“Regulus.”

“That,” Barty says, eyes lighting up. “Is a weird fucking name.”

“Thank you,” Regulus smirks without missing a beat. “You know how the family is. Insane.”

Barty’s smirk grows. It’s toothy. “Of course I do.”

Regulus' eyes make their way back to the dance floor. He watches Sirius and James disappear into the photo booth and something in him, something just beneath the surface, gets him up and out of his seat.

His eyes catch on a small hallway off to the side of the dance floor, hidden, unless you’re an observant little shit unwillingly at a wedding who currently finds himself at what feels like the brink of escaping an impasse.

“Barty,” he nods his goodbye.

“Regulus,” the man purrs back, looking up at his standing form like a dog waiting to be given a treat.

Regulus walks away.

And Barty follows.

Regulus stands with his back up against the wall, deep enough so he can’t be seen from the dance floor. Barty lands just a few feet away from him, leaning his right shoulder into the wall with his back to the room, creating even more of a barrier with his tall lanky form.

He towers over him. And Regulus is pretending that fact isn’t making him feel heady–as if the man following him into a secluded hallway and blocking out an entire wedding full of people with his body isn’t also making him feel seconds away from dropping to his knees.

Barty lets another grin stretch across his face, freckles finding new homes, skin around his jaw tightening, oceans in his eyes shrinking ever so slightly. 

Then, he opens his mouth and Regulus intrinsically knows that can’t be good.

“I’m engaged,” he breathes, interrupting Barty before a sound even leaves his mouth. “Or will be. Soon.”

He rips his eyes away from indigo blue and tries to shut off the part of his brain that keeps showing him the memory of finding the little black velvet box wrapped up in James’ sock drawer. He feels bile rise up up up his throat, and then he feels a hand wrap around his wrist.

Regulus snaps his head to the left to watch the man in front of him look down at the small meeting of skin on skin.

“My boyfriend,” he breathes. “Is two rooms over.”

At Regulus’ confused frown, he keeps going.

“You caught me, I’m crashing this wedding,” he scoffs through a small smirk sitting in the corner of his mouth. “But I am technically also a wedding guest. Just not to this one. I can pull out my invite if you don’t believe me.”

Regulus can’t help but roll his eyes and smirk back. “Literally what information would I have to give me reason to believe you?”

“What reasons do you have not to?” “Oh so you’re an asshole and you’re stupid. I’m building up a profile in my head.”

“Mm,” Barty drawls, leaning into him and rubbing circles into his wrist. The motion makes Regulus squirm but Barty just tightens his grip and pulls him closer. “What else do you want to know? To prove I’m trustworthy or whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Regulus chokes on his audacity. 

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

Barty doesn’t even blink. Regulus tries not to pout at his inability to make this man react. “Oh?” 

“I’m not a cheater.”

“Neither am I,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Then what are you doing following me into a secluded hallway and giving my wrist a handjob?”

He laughs. It rings around Regulus’ head. He nearly checks over his shoulder to see if the entire room has stopped celebrating to listen to it too. But he can’t seem to peel his eyes away. Stuck.

“What are you doing leading me away from the rest of your family’s wedding, hm?”

Then Barty drops his wrist. Regulus, thankfully, catches his whine. 

“No touching then.”

“Friends…” Regulus licks his lips, desperation seeping out of his pores. God he’s embarrassing himself. “Touch.”

“Friends?” Barty repeats. “I thought you didn’t know me.”

“We could change that. Get to know me a bit.”

“Ah,” Barty shakes his head, a small frown pinching his eyebrows together. “I think that’d make things worse.”

Regulus watches his face, watches the way some sort of pain floats up to the surface before being coated in olive freckle-ridden skin, drowned out with the tide in his bright eyes.

“Friends then,” he smiles and it's fake fake fake but Regulus thinks he’d rather like to lick it off all the same.

“Friends,” he breathes. 

Several things lead to them finding themselves pressed up against each other in the shotty rented photo booth.

Barty’s fingers find their way back down Regulus’ wrist. They slide into his palm, warming his cold skin. The pads of his fingers trace every line, every curve. His grip is soft at first, and then it’s crushing. The firmness connects them together and Regulus can’t tell where he begins and ends. Two hands meeting each other for a first embrace in the shared in between and within moments becoming just one.

A handshake.

Regulus removes himself off the wall to stand toe to toe with the wild-haired man. He’s tall, so moving his arms forward means Regulus’ hands traverse the space just above his hip bones. They wind around to skirt at the bottom of Barty’s white dress shirt. He tugs at the fabric as he lets his hands travel up to rest on the planes of his back. He pushes himself forward the last few inches and they’re chest to chest. Regulus breathes and then Barty does. In and out. Together. Barty’s hands find their way around Regulus’s shoulders, holding him close and breathing him in. Regulus’ cheek rests against Barty’s chest and they breathe. And breathe, and melt. And breathe.

A hug.

Barty lets his hands wander, running up and down his back at first, pushing over his own dress shirt into his skin. Soothing. His fingers make their way up his spine and they don’t stop, moving to hold the back of his neck then finding their way up into his hair. Regulus doesn’t stop the punched breath that escapes him as he gives in to the feeling of Barty running his fingers through his hair. His nails scratch at his scalp lightly, moving back and forth across the back of his head. He pulls, so it burns in that delectable way that makes you know it’s on the verge of being wrong, being painful. But it hurts just enough that it feels good. That he craves more. Barty gives. And gives and gives and gives.

A massage.

Regulus gets his hands up under Barty’s shirt, fingers skating across the sliver of exposed skin at first before diving under and finding himself immediately addicted to the feel of skin on skin. He needs more. So he takes it. He pushes away from Barty slightly, looking up into hooded eyes, oceans hidden just beneath the cloak of fog. Eerie. And also beautiful. His fingers find the knot of Barty’s tie and they pull, removing the barrier to get to the top of Barty’s shirt. He holds eye contact as he unbuttons the top button. And the next. And the next, exposing the top of Barty’s chest. Before he can think about it, he’s placing his nose to the heavily tattooed skin and breathing. He takes in warm tones of amber through his nostrils and it’s not enough. It won’t ever be, but he opens his lips to take in more and it’s everywhere. Barty is everywhere. He breathes him in as he presses his lips into his skin, pretending it means nothing when it means everything.

An inhale.

Together, they slink along the walls of the venue, attempting to be inconspicuous but Barty’s hand has other plans and keeps playing with Regulus’ fingers. He bats him away several times, watching the dance floor, and they eventually shove their way into the small booth unnoticed. 

It’s a small space. So it merits a level of closeness that neither of them speak to. They start side to side but Barty quickly adjusts them, pulling Regulus into his lap so his thighs rest on Barty’s right leg and his legs fall between Barty’s. Regulus wraps an arm around his shoulders and the man has the gaul to smirk at him. He’s still bright, even in the fluorescent light. 

“For stability,” Regulus breathes. 

Barty smirks and he can’t pull his eyes away. 

“Oh baby,” he drawls. “I’m far from stable.”

Regulus laughs at that, ignoring the pit in his stomach at the term of endearment. It’s genuine. 

“This isn’t cheating.”

“We’re not cheaters,” Barty scoffs and grabs a set of huge hot pink glasses, placing them precariously on the end of his nose. ”What do you think? Am I pulling these off? Be honest.”

“Not at all,” Regulus breathes, ripping his eyes away from the red mouth in front of him to grab a yellow feather boa and wrapping it around his neck. He leans back into Barty’s space, not that he ever left, and lets his fingers grip his chin to hold him still as he pushes the glasses up his nose. “Press the button.”

Barty breathes and swats his hand around, refusing to pull his eyes away from Regulus. They hear a bright ding indicating the photos are about to be taken but it changes nothing. They stay staring at each other as the first click of the camera goes off. 

Barty shifts his legs and Regulus’ eyes grow slightly as he feels a hardness brush up against his thigh. Barty pushes in closer, bringing his forehead up against Regulus’. 

The second click of the camera goes off. 

Regulus leans into him, torn between watching his eyes devour him and looking at the way he slowly licks his lips. Regulus’ mouth drops open and he breathes on a small whine. Barty’s lips part and they both breathe. The air from Barty’s exhales landing straight in Regulus’ mouth and coming back out again with his own exhale. 

The third click of the camera.

Regulus breathes and breathes and breathes, panting slightly into his mouth as fingers move back into his hair and pull. He gasps, his head falls back, and teeth graze his chin before moving down to mouth at his neck. Not kissing. Breathing. Open lips running along his skin. It’s intoxicating. It’s consuming. It’s exhilarating. 

The fourth click of the camera.

A photo.

Barty leaves after that, taking his half of the photos with him back to his own wedding and his own people in love. There are no promises of more, no expectations of contact, no attempts to explain.

Regulus pockets the glossy paper in a pocket against his chest. He finds his booth, sits himself down, and goes back to watching people dance and make fools out of themselves and be in love. 

He still isn’t one of them. Doesn’t think he ever will be.

But at least he’s not bored.

GOD i love a cheating fic (or a not cheating fic) this is so hot. the tension???? james just outside the booth??? the not kissing???? holy shit… and the talent here….. this is gorgeous. the way you so easily capture regulus’ apathy with the scene in front of him. like he knows he should be happy but he’s just not and he needs to feel something. and barty is something.

“Barty gives. And gives and gives and gives.” <- yeah. insane.

thank you for this absolute gift… whoever you are… <3

[secondeve]

hi hello happy opening, nice to meet everyone! i’m blue & this is shin jieum, sadpathetic girl looking to exchange a plot of land for just a bit ( a lot ) of the love or power she thinks she deserves ! i've got her profile, background pages up & more info / plots under the cut, pls like to plot or ask for my d/scord and i’ll be there! 💗

info

unknown / nth was on loop while writing her bio, though i think that's more indulgent for her than the sharp objects jieum's actually made out of rip but that's on context & for listening!

starting from the bottom: the shins are a family that somehow manages to weasel their way to capitalise on whoever's in power at the time ( usually the parks ). have an unfortunate tendency to angle for their daughters marrying into the founding families—though they can't be said to be unsuccessful on that front!

so that's how jieum is raised! mother is sour from losing out on the yang heir of her time & is now puppeteering her children into where she almost was. she lied to jieum that she's a yang-affair baby & insists that she's lost out, so she's got a big chip on her shoulder about not having what she's due

( would fuck her up to find out that she's actually just the daughter of a mediocre man but she doesn't know that. yet! )

but anyway jieum is not the alluring type :( she fades into the background, v much unperks of being a wallflower. not rlly charismatic or sweet enough to win any hearts & doesn't have the backbone to stand taller than kim i or yang on her own either so she's kind of fucked she's always 2nd yknow bridesmaid but never the bride until!!!!

she Does become the bride. hot damn!

she thinks she's finally getting her flowers, but this marriage is loveless & faithless so eventually ( quite quickly ) falls apart. her ego is her undoing and she turns cold & dry to park i, which only makes things worse, rip—she's defo keeping up the facade of a perfect home but it's not that at all

tries to soothe her ego by reminding herself of all the people she's better than now that she's married into the parks! has defo stepped on a few toes for her ego's sake but she has old habits of deferring to people & also needs her father in law's help re the land so she can't be Too uppity?

let's go horoscope girlies she's got a pisces sun aries moon taurus rising, she longs for love & loves herself too much but it's not enough for her... she might think she's playing the game well but it's usually clouded by her ego / insecurities. makes missteps all the time bc she's not used to being on the upper hand or needing to be careful since being 2nd means no one rlly notices u. feels sorry for herself all the time & can be kind but only when it makes her feel better about herself. also she's so bored & discontent with life she's just a housewife but who knows if she'll still be when she starts shilling for tk group!

plots

fellow stiffed by life sufferers. people who are willing to commiserate about how bad their lives are even tho objectively none of them are having it that bad

the first / only person she's ever come first to & like sure they aren't important or powerful but they make her feel powerful so maybe she's attached but sneakily. maybe she doesn't want to be associated w them too publicly?

a friend her friend they're hers & she might have smth codependent with them

someone who thinks she's so pathetic but she's like trainwreck entertainment for them they keep leading her down the wrong paths

or maybe someone who feels bad for her. they keep trying to help her & she keeps getting mad at them for meddling even tho they mean well & she Knows they mean well but her ego is small & easily bruised

people who don't like park i & the wife of my enemy is my enemy—but if she doesn't like him too then is she ur friend?

someone who smells a rat when she's around & repeating jung / iida's talking points about selling the land...

also someone who might believe her & legit thinks the shins have the good of the town at heart she's working an angle on them now

the usu yknow childhood friends rivals exes fwbs ( yes she's married but if he's cheating so is she... )

[possumsarenice]

I was originally upset with today’s ep, but after watching it? I’m am SO glad he’s back.

I will explain why under the cut but I am very mean to Bloodmoon there so if you’re in the BM cult you should probably just scroll

I’ve said before when Eclipse died last time that I would rather have an entire arc with a mediocre villain the another Eclipse arc, and Ruin was a good palette cleanser! I had some time away from Eclipse and I can handle more of him now. I’m glad Eclipse is back because the few seconds where he disabled the weapons were 800x more entertaining then all the screen the other villains got. Bloodmoon was fun for a little bit, but his entire character is just hyper murder and maybe some personal issues the writers don’t care enough to to even keep consistent (seriously, it start as family issues then turned into being seen as a tool). He’s not smart enough to be the main villain so the only way he could be a top priority is by working under someone, and every time it’s the same dynamic. He’s a pretty shallow character that works for a minor antagonist and just doesn’t fit as a main villain. But they tried, and that just made me stop caring about his character. I have more burnout from Bloodmoon then I do Eclipse. Bloodmoon has become a boring, static character for me. Every episode centering him was an unwatchable slog. I am, so fucking tired of him.

Eclipse has an actual character instead of one singular trait. He has changed over time (and not fit the better). And him going from an almost depressed state to becoming a showman about his plan is interesting! I’ve never been a major Eclipse fan, but I’ve liked his character for awhile. And while I do still think the writers are at risk of running him into the ground, what they’re doing with Bloodmoon is SO much worse that I can’t complain. Please just ANYONE but Bloodmoon or “mysterious murder mastermind” PLEASE JUST ANYTHING BUT THAT

[theythemmaehem]

Alright I’m not sure if I’ve said this before but I consider myself to be a poet of sorts (I mean I write mediocre poetry and sometimes people enjoy it so thats pretty swell)

Anyways I was thinking (as poets do /j) about that one trope in poetry where people compare how Person A is pretty like Thing B such as “her eyes were like gazing into a sky full of stars” or “his smile was like a warm ray of sunshine” and stuff like that

And don’t get me wrong- I adore tropes like that. I think they’re so full of love and super fun to write. BUT sometimes they get repetitive, a lot of people repeat them over and over again and it’s cool but I personally get bored.

What I’m thinking is I want a trope where someone is loved like a old teddy bear. Maybe they’ve had it for years and used to take it everywhere, do everything together, holding it close and protectively at night. Maybe it was their only source of comfort while they were going through a hard time, they could always return to it when they needed it. Maybe it was flawed, over time it was worn through but they always patched it back up again. Maybe one day something horrible happened to it and they regret it so deeply for the rest of their lives. Maybe someday they grow out of it, they don’t need it anymore but they still will cherish it always. Or maybe its here to stay, forever and always, maybe they are bound together through thick and thin.

Im sure im not the first one to think of this but it was just something I realized lol

anyways tag your oc or person thats loved like a old teddy bear /nf

[allegg]

Okay huge spoilers for beetlejuice beetlejuice

When it finished I was like “yeah pretty mediocre I probably wouldn’t watch it again” but when I kept thinking it was just….. what was the point????

I see on here people really liking it and of course that is okay maybe I’m thinking about it too hard but I just couldn’t enjoy it unfortunately.

Dolores was just a waste and anything tied to her was as well, even though I liked Willem Dafoe and Danny Davitos characters, in the end neither served a purpose. Like yeah her intro was cool but she made no impact on me or the plot. Honestly take her and everything she affected out of it and you would lose nothing. Even beetlejuice didn’t feel affected when she turned up. And she just… dies…. that’s it… no fight no real confrontation nothing she appears at a wedding, which also didn’t have a purpose other then setting up a DIFFERENT wedding, to just kill Dolores just immediately. She was a nothing character.

Plus genuinely who asked for a beetlejuice backstory???? Like vague hints and jokes are fine but I thought part of his charm was he was an off putting guy who did what he did because he thought it was fun and because he was selfish and no one knew fucking why??? Adding Dolores removes that when the movie would have worked better if it just kept that motivation from the 1st movie, him just wanting to become mortal so he has to marry Lydia. Also he felt weaker??? Like he turned himself into a carnival and a snake hybrid (which actually appeared in a nightmare I had recently which really scared me so it to me was actually really scary even if it was never planned to be) and turned everyone into basically a game shows contenders. He controlled the situation but I didn’t feel that over powering presence that he once had. Plus the singing??? Like what??? That’s the Maitlands thing, not his, that was THEIR scare. A scare made by people from a suburban and privileged life not a man who’s been dead for hundreds of years who’s murdered people and (originally hinted) as someone who lived through the plague??? And that scene just draggggggeeeddd like I get it it’s a callback to the original. I was hoping he would do a full musical number, it would still be a callback to the original but expands on it and just shows how much more powerfu he actually isl. He was obviously the best part and I was really worried they’d turn him into a hero but they didn’t and I’m very happy with that, he still did what he did for his own selfish desires.

Lydia also felt wrong, she wasn’t the strange and unusual goth girl, she felt like Joyce Byers, paranoid and scared. And Delia was dramatic but not this dramatic like come on. Astrid I felt nothing for, I felt like they should’ve done what the did in the musical and have it so she never finds her dad but appreciates who she has in her life and accepts that he’s gone. Rory I felt they pulled a twist out of him for whatever reason, he did seem like a well meaning guy who just could never read the room.

Also I thought the point of the afterlife was that that’s all anyone gets??? Why does every other afterlife exist too??? They just ruins what made the original interesting cause all they had was this boring realm that no one wanted to be in but couldn’t leave so they tried to make the best out of it. And also when we did see the original it felt lifeless but not in the fun way it just felt like there was no creativity just EXPAND ON WHAT YOU HAD

(This next paragraph talks about suicide so just skip to the next one if that is upsetting which is completely understandable, the point of this one is the musical looked at the original film and delved into details to add more to different characters and the world)

Like the musical had that pageant queen (who didn’t show up in this?? Like that wasn’t the same person???) and it genuinely seemed like they said “She was a pageant queen but she killed herself and now works a crap job for forever, that must suck and she and most other dead souls regret what they did, wether it was personal or accidental, which caused them to die” and made a whole song out of it and gave her so much character.

So just why didn’t they do it here??? Why didn’t they look at what they were given and made more out of it. The soul train just contradicted what was in the original.

Plus I just didn’t think it was very funny, buts that just my personal opinion.

I thought the designs for the dead were great and the “memorial to bob” was pretty funny but overall I just didn’t like it. 3/10.

[embossross]

2023 in anime

i give ratings out of 10 stars based on a rubric that considers the following:

2 points / ambition of what the anime is trying to achieve 3 points / effectiveness of the anime in achieving its aims 4 points / my personal, subjective enjoyment 1 point / pacing +1/-1 miscellaneous

so with that said… ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (2 anime)

revolutionary girl utena – heavy breathing panting crying what a fucking roller coaster nanami the child you are anty the child you were utena the child you choose to be – just one of the true masterpieces of all anime. took a few episodes to realize that this show understood tone and comedy perfectly and wasn’t just a wonky children’s show and by golly! the nanami in season 3 gutted me unlike anything else

attack on titan: final season (for real this time) – decent conclusion to maybe my favorite anime of all time

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (10 anime)

school rumble – so goddamn funny and i cared about every goddamn character. it’s witchcraft!

trigun – good ole saturday morning cartoons

golden kamuy s3 – how does it keep getting better???!?!

fruits basket – i was a certified hater after s1, but slowly but surely i gave into the melodrama. akito and shigure were EVERYTHING

nana – the most disappointing ending of all time! for one of the greatest anime of all time. manga pls save me!!!

rascal does not dream of bunny girl senpai – i’m embarrassed. i cried.

princess tutu – expressionistic, dedicated to storytelling, tremendously kind-hearted. you have to let it move you

blue lock – i’m officially a sports anime girlie

cyberpunk: edgerunners – this was just so slick!

chainsaw man – nothing needs to be said here

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (8 anime)

yamada-kun to lv999 no koi wo suru – adult romance that hasn’t been stripped of all conflict and maintains momentum nearly to the end

oshi no ko – my expectations were non-existent after ep 1 but then it crept up on me. i can’t even fully put my finger on what works so well? but it does! it knows when to take itself seriously and when to be nonsense.

demon slayer s3 – best season of demon slayer to date, i actually cared

durarara!!x2 shou – this is a confession. my inner edgy teen loves durarara. i appreciate huge casts of characters acting in opposition in atmospheric tokyo.

gintama – i finally finished gintama one of my favorites of all time. the end pulls all the threads together but it does so at the expense of the laughs so loses some points

chihayafuru – amazing background anime. just consistently fun and engaging.

perfect blue – i feel stupid and uncultured to not give this a 10

vinland saga – askeladd is so hot wow

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (7 anime)

buddy daddies – funny and sincere in degrees but a truly annoying little girl character

serial experiments lain – god you’ve gotta appreciate the wild swings creatives were taking in the 90s

durarara!!x2 ten

great teacher onizuka – ugh he’s a creep but also heh he’s funny

trigun stampede – they yassified them!

mob psycho 100 s3 - meandered a bit but the characters are forever favorites

to your eternity – the first 3 arcs are extraordinary. march is one of the great child characters of all time. the end drags.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (8 anime)

zom 100 – crazy good first episode that earns its premise and then a slow descent into mediocrity; cool colors though!

terror in resonance – utterly forgettable

dororo – way too long with way too many hit or miss episode arcs

bungou stray dogs s4 – the cracks are showing but the rampo backstory is dope

lycoris recoil – those cute girls shoulda been lesbians

classroom of the elite – is it edgy? yes. are the quotes frustratingly misused? oh yes. is it fun? ugh yeah actually

romantic killer – pretty cute and the edge of danger at the end really sells it

free – solid watch but it left my brain like sand in a sieve

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4 anime)

wolf’s rain – what passes as deep when children are your primary audience

hell’s paradise – boring and i liked the manga so.

durarara!!x2 ketsu – the conclusion falls short

land of the lustrous – bold but was too slow for me

⭐⭐⭐⭐ (3 anime)

tomo-chan is a girl! – sometimes funny but the conceit does not justify 13 episodes and it loses steam fast

mushishi – some of the vignettes were beautiful but felt repetitive

bleach: thousand-year blood war – sleek, hype, plagued by all the old bleach problems

no game no life season 1 - confused that this was such a phenomenon when it came out. it’s fine i guess.

⭐⭐⭐ (5 anime)

kamisama kiss – trite imo

given – god save us from anime about perfect people being perfect with each other – but this time set to music!

tokyo revengers s2 – 🤷

natsume’s book of friends – i don’t need vibes this cozy

sasaki to miyano – and i really don’t need vibes this cozy

⭐⭐ (0 anime)

⭐ (0 anime)

& then ongoing shows that i’m not going to rank until i finish them (but actually all are pretty good so far) – skip to loafer, heavenly delusion, spy x family s2, apothecary diaries, jujutsu kaisen s2, frieren: beyond journey’s end, vinland saga s2

[talesfromthebacklog]

Tales From The Front Log: Endless Ocean Luminous

5/10

This was a $30-$40 game labelled as a $60 one. It’s fun but after a day or two you’ll find yourself quickly bored. Yikes. I don’t have a lot of nice things to say about this one. I’m not angry at it, but I’m just going to lay it all out as it is.

Endless Ocean suffers from what I consider to be the worst thing that can happen to a game. It’s just… not much to talk about. It’s largely nothing. Good games will be remembered. Bad games will also be remembered. Maybe not made again, but we still talk about trite like Superman 64.

Nothing games? No one talks about. Which is sad because I love games like this, but I don’t see this as a franchise Nintendo will continue to make because no one from the casual sphere will be asking for it after this. (And despite what many folks believe, you need casuals to buy games like this from companies like Nintendo to convince the corpos that they are still worth making).

Let’s talk about this ocean diving game and where it went wrong.

Firstly the story-mode. Hate it. The story itself is very… okay. Nothing special but serviceable. My big problem is the progression. It’s locked behind doing TONS of exploring instead of just letting players enjoy the story at the pace they want to enjoy it! (Probably because players would finish it in a matter of hours and put it down forever because it would have little left to offer. The replay value is nonexistent and there is no incentive to play longer.)

Additionally the only person who ever speaks is your AI computer companion and I could not care less about anything that thing says. It’s dull and lazy. All the divers just flail around. You’re telling me we can have special magic fish which I can suck the light out of to save magic coral, but no communicators so the divers can actually speak to each other? Okay💨.

I’m being harsh here. But when I see a $60 price tag with Nintendo’s name attached I expect more than this. And while I am going to get into the stuff I like it’s hard to ignore to mediocre nature of the game.

For example this game is just… empty. It feels weirdly lifeless despite being heavily populated by fish. Probably because they don’t feel like they’re really there sometimes. You can swim right through nearly all the models. The maps are huge but I actually think this is a disservice because they largely don’t do anything interesting with them. There aren’t many different biomes to visit randomly, you can’t interact with anything other than treasures that just give you nearly meaningless currency. It’s just diet New Pokemon Snap. And Pokemon Snap arguably does the job much better despite being on rails.

And the more I think about it… the more I realize that it really does have a LARGE amount of similarities with New Pokemon Snap in terms of story and function. Even down to the luminescent giant creatures! I would almost say if you want the Endless Ocean: Luminous experience of wandering around looking at stuff you should just go play that. The environments are prettier, Pokemon react to your presence, Pokemon react to each other, you interact with environment, you get items, and you get tons of unique biomes. Or just play the original Endless Ocean games because they’re way better.

In Endless Ocean: Luminous you’re just kinda dropped off in a big blue pool. The water even looks kinda hazy when you’re in it. There’s no weather, no sunsets, no beautiful ocean moonlit nights. Just… big blue planes of nothing. And there are fun places to explore sometimes. Like ruins, old ships, some caves, and the depths. This is in the minority though.

In majority there’s big flat sand planes of fucking blue nothing. With rocks. And you’ll spend more time there than you will anywhere else. Especially in multiplayer.

That’s all you really do in Endless Ocean: Luminous. You wander around and look at shit. Which I like games like this in theory. Outer Wilds and Paradise Killer are also “look around” games. But they also have compelling narratives and gimmicks to keep players hooked. And I’m not arguing it’s not fun to poke around in Endless Ocean: Luminous. I did have a fun time swimming around. I’m just also saying you’ll get bored quick.

This extends to the multiplayer. Which boils down to who can wander around and look at everything the fastest. That’s it. You’re given emotes but players rarely interact with each other and are given basically no incentive to. I guess you can join the mode to feel less lonely. It’ll get you through the story mode quicker than working on your own.

I just… additionally one of the big selling points was you could be with up to 30 people in a room but this isn’t quite true. It’s up to 10 random people. The other TWENTY you need to have friends or join a stream. And practically NO ONE was streaming this on Twitch ON LAUNCH. The amount was painfully low for a Nintendo IP. I wasn’t expecting Mario numbers but it was kinda pathetic. 🤷‍♀️ I was genuinely disappointed. The large amount of players in one room sounded fun.

But at the same time 10 players on one map can actually be too much at times and leave little for players to do as you witch hunt for the one fish that hasn’t been scanned. A weird conundrum.

So… what did I like about this game??? I did mention I would talk about stuff I liked.

The variety of fish was good. I like that all the fish got factoid excerpts that could be read aloud. Though I’m irked I can’t play the verbal explanation and look around at the same time. While the game is very basic it’s still fun to poke around and look at stuff! There is interesting stuff to look at. I appreciate the fantasy elements.

I like the idea of the fish bosses you have to lure out. Though I wish luring them out required learning about the fish and using something special for that fish to get them to reveal themselves. They want it to be a big grand event but it’s really not.

The fish models actually look really good and detailed. If you know your ocean life you can properly identify the fish for what they are. As someone who loves ocean life this actually matters to me quite a bit. Weirdly enough I’m disappointed the plant/coral life was lacking. It would’ve been a good way to add to the catalogue. Might just be a me thing but ocean plants are as equally interesting as the fish.

I appreciate that there’s no combat. As I don’t have a strong spine for ocean horror. (I have to play Subnautica with creature aggression turned completely off.).

Fish companions. Great choice. Being able to unlock bigger fish friends over time and respecting their dive capacity was also a great choice. My favorite ended up being the starfish since they could just attach to your tank. Too cute. (Though… we needed urchins in the game too. Just saying…)

Actually. This leads me to another real niche nitpick. We can have fantasy fish but the all the plants outside of the World Coral are BLAND normal ass plants??!?

*Flips table*

MORE PLANTS and CORAL GOD DAMMIT. I WANT TO LOOK AT PRETTY PLANTS WITH MY PRETTY FISH. It’s not a lot to ask! I want Subnautica level plant decoration even if it’s on a budget. Barbie Ocean Discovery has more COLOR in the background for Christ’s sake.

*Ahem*. Sorry. Ocean stuff is a hyper fixation, but I promise I’m not actually mad. Ha ha. Can you imagine?

The customizable avatar and emotes is… cute. Really. I swear. But you likely won’t last long enough to unlock anything truly complex before moving on.

The idea of events is cute, but don’t mean much. It’s largely just increased rates for rare creatures to appear. Eh.

In short Endless Ocean: Luminous is a fairly empty game with a LOT of padding for $60. You can tell they wanted a cozy game that players would play for longer than a few days, but you likely won’t. I’m not going to argue it’s valueless to pick up. I’m just going to say that you deserve to not buy it at the price Nintendo wanted us to buy it at.

Buy it on sale and just accept it for what it is.

[thevindicativevordan]

Comics this week?

World’s Finest #21 - Another good issue, did not see the Gog reveal coming. I have not read his JSA appearance so having everyone bow down before him on Earth 22 was a shock. How long has he been running the show there? There’s a big risk here because Waid has said while Supes and Bats can’t change what is to come, they are going to have an impact. My fear is that Waid is going to retcon all of KC to have been Gog’s influence which I am not a fan of. My hope is that the impact is Clark and Bruce will either manage to get through somewhat to Magog, which is why he surrenders so easily after Kansas gets nuked in KC or we will see Clark and Bruce be the reason that some of the heroes survived the nuke at the end of KC. Amused me that Waid got to kill Ma and Pa on one Earth at least, I’d like to know if they died before or after Clark became Superman.

JLvGvK #2 - A step up from the first issue in that there was more monster fighting this time. Shazam is a total dumbass here, no Wisdom of Solomon for this guy. That ending page of course is all over the Internet and it helped clarify something for me. People bitch about Superman being “OP” but they don’t actually care about that. When he wins a fight they call him boring, but when he loses a fight? They laugh and say he sucks, and that X could have won that (X being Goku or Batman or whoever). What people are actually obsessing over is the idea that Supes is stronger than their faves and could beat them in a fight. Hence why they always bitch when Supes wins and always crow when Supes loses. It’s something DC has never realized, pandering to these people by nerfing Supes or having him lose never works because they just hate him period and will never switch to supporting him.

Superman #8 - Nice that Conner gets some good moments here. With how Lex heavy the run has been it’s past time he got to interact with the Luthor family more. Still hoping for a Conner/Lena scene what with them both being Lex’s “creations”. Not sure about the Chained, there’s some potential here but honestly he feels like a better foe for Conner than Clark.

Nightwing #108 - I’m bored and dropping the book. Without Redondo around the mediocrity of the writing is not something I can overlook anymore.

GL: WJ #3 - Adored that scene with John and his mother. Stewart is usually stoic so it’s nice to see him be emotionally vulnerable about his mom’s condition and how he has to leave her. Another nice detail: everyone hyping Stewart up. Reminiscent of Frodo and Galadriel in LOTR, if Stewart doesn’t find a way to save the day no one will. John has always struggled to step out of another person’s shadow, usually Hal, but it’s an interesting twist on the formula to make the person he has to live up to be himself. Another John Stewart became his universe’s greatest hero - can our John match his feats? Because he has to in order to win.

Wonder Woman #3 - A fakeout or the reveal of Lizzie’s biological mother? Leaning towards fakeout or at least it being more complicated than Diana simply adopting Emelie’s kid. Jon and Damian are biological kids, and Lizzie is supposed to “complete” that Trinity. Face facts: bio kids get valued more by both DC and the world at large, it’s why Jon has persisted despite being a disaster while Chris was erased, why Damian has risen in prominence while Tim has withered. A theory: Emelie’s daughter dies/is stillborn, but Diana sculpts clay and reincarnates the baby’s soul into Lizzie, just like her own mother did. Maybe she adds her blood to the process too for magical reasons, meaning Lizzie is of Diana’s blood. Or it’s all a giant fake out, we’re only three issues in after all.

Incredible Hulk #6 - My favorite transformation sequence outside of Immortal Hulk is here. PKJ said he viewed his Hulk as the Green Scar/Worldbreaker Hulk, but I feel like the Guilt Hulk is a better fit. He hates Bruce and wants him dead, torments Bruce mercilessly, and is out to punish Bruce for his sins. Like how Ewing revamped the nature of Devil Hulk while still maintaining how protective Devil was of Bruce and how he wanted to destroy the world, Guilt Hulk feels like a better fit here for what PKJ is doing.