#onathan Majors

[losangelesnewsfeed]

"Rising Star Jonathan Majors Takes Hollywood by Storm"

"Jonathan Majors: rising star, talented actor, committed to social justice."

How Jonathan Majors Became One of Hollywood’s Most Promising Actors Jonathan Majors has been making waves in Hollywood with his captivating performances and undeniable talent. From his breakout role in “The Last Black Man in San Francisco” to his recent starring role in the highly anticipated Marvel film “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania,” Majors has proven time and time again that he is a…

[sleptwithinthesun]

hi this is just c/hicago au with j/onathan talking about Stuff™ soon after they move to chicago? no actual sneezing but a few mentions. 0.7K words i hope you enjoy!! (i hate these setup fics so bear with me until the end of this one because it's SHIT lol)

Jonathan's the last one home on Friday evening, three weeks after they moved into their new apartment in Chicago, which is still unbelievable to him. They'd been talking about it for months, practically since they started living together, mentioning that they wanted to live in a city instead of hopping from town to town, and have finally, finally managed to settle down in an apartment with a lease longer than six months.

The floor of said apartment still boasts a handful of broken-down moving boxes that haven't been shoved into the closet yet, just because they've all been so preoccupied with finding jobs. Thankfully, Nancy and Jonathan managed to land jobs as a journalist and photographer, respectively, at one of the major newspapers for Chicago, and Steve's got something going as a floor manager over at the local department store, the position aided by his solid amount of previous experience in retail.

"Hey, Jon," Steve greets, smiling at his boyfriend as he crouches to unlace his boots. Jonathan returns it, the corners of his lips quirking in that way that he does, the one that's more telling of his happiness than an actual smile is. "Work alright?"

"It was fine," Jonathan says, "for the most part."

Nancy looks up from her book, eyebrows furrowed with concern. "What happened?" She and Jonathan work in wildly different areas of their office building, and rarely see each other unless they're both on break or get to work on the same story.

He shrugs. "Other photographer was in the darkroom while I was, and kept moving in and out to get his stuff because he was completely disorganized, which is really just not conducive to developing photographs." Jonathan sits down on the couch next to Steve, sniffling quietly before adding, "Not to mention the light."

"I keep forgetting about the light thing," Steve says offhandedly, feeling his abdomen tighten with unnecessary excitement. Christ, Jonathan's not even ready to deal with that, not after the first talk they all tried to have. He's pretty sure Jonathan forgot about it entirely, considering that the conversation was more than a year ago, and isn't looking forward to bringing all of that up again.

Jonathan sighs. "It'd be alright if people thought it was normal whenever I tell them that the light makes me sneeze, but instead, they just look at me like I'm crazy."

"I mean, it is kind of a weird thing to have to explain," Nancy says, and clears her throat. Steve can tell that Jonathan's getting to her as well, involuntary as it may be.

Jonathan only shrugs. "I guess."

They lapse into a quiet silence after that, and when Jonathan leaves the room to get a book of his own, Steve moves over to Nancy's side.

"We have to tell him," he says quietly. "If these kinds of conversations become a regular thing, we have to tell him."

Nancy frowns. "We did tell him, back in Indianapolis," she whispers.

"I'm not sure if he remembers that."

"Oh, shit. Yeah, you might be right about that."

"Do we want to tell him?"

"...Not really."

"Nance."

"We can wait!" she hisses, glancing toward the bedroom, where Jonathan currently is. "We can wait. It's fine, Steve, we'll bring it up when the time is right."

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. "Whenever you're ready."

Nancy shoots him a tight-lipped smile, and closes her book and stands just as she and Steve stand up. "I think we have the stuff we need for pork chops," she says, letting their conversation flow seamlessly into a discussion about dinner right when Jonathan walks back into the room. "Would that work?"

"Sounds good," Steve says, then looks up at their boyfriend. "Jon?"

"That's fine," he says, and puts his book down on the couch. "Nancy, do you want help in the kitchen?"

"As long as Steve isn't allowed in, then yes. I don't trust him not to set anything on fire."

"Hey! That was one time."

"One time too many, Harrington," Nancy says with a playful grin, and Steve rolls his eyes before grinning back.

[okaybutlikeimagine]

What if when Hopper first adopted Billy he was mentally preparing himself for a mess of clothes tossed about, dishes left everywhere, general teenage chaos? Instead, it's the complete opposite. Billy's had responsibility literally beaten into him, so he takes over all the chores thinking if he doesn't Hopper will toss him out. He cleans, cooks, drives El (and Max still) everywhere, etc while going to school and working part-time. How would Hopper react when he realizes why Billy does it all?

Oh I so agree with this, 100% feel like he was!! Like… I don’t think anyone expects Billy to be as super considerate and clean as he is. Bc he really is! He lived his whole life w/ a man who very obviously carried his military service through his life into his adulthood in a very dangerous away and so I believe Billy was scared as all hell to ever let himself slip. He keeps everything he can immaculate bc if anything isn’t Just Right, he’s the one getting punished every time.

When he was younger, Neil would put him through random, weekly checks of his room to make sure everything was clean and orderly. (when he got “old enough to be called a man”, Neil stopped with those, but still yelled at Billy for anything disorderly in his room.) When Max was really young and would accidentally break things, Billy would absolutely always take the fall. Even if Max admitted to it being her fault, Billy would be hit for not watching her close enough/for letting her reach for that glass herself/for giving her those permanent markers/etc.

So I think Billy feels responsible not only for his things but for everything. This is his house now too, after all; his space, and he’s gotta make sure it’s perfect.

And Billy moves in with very few things. Billy just doesn’t have a lot of stuff in general. I dunno if we’ve all seen the pictures, but some people on here have analyzed the little makeshift nightstand + mirror thing that Billy has. Like, he piled a bunch of things on top of each other to make his little vanity. I’ve talked before about how I don’t believe Billy was ever the type of kid to share things bc he just doesn’t HAVE a lot. He doesn’t own a lot of things and he KNOWS the cabin is small so he doesn’t bring a lot of the things he does have with him either. He gives his stereo to Max. He leaves all the furniture and his mirror. He only brings his clothes in a duffel, a couple of trinkets he holds dear to his heart, and his hair stuff.

And it’s definitely not what Hop was expecting at ALL. he was expecting absolute chaos. Like you said, clothes strewn around the place, etc, so before Billy moves in, Hop goes out and picks up a dresser he finds at a yard sale. It’s not much, but it’s something for Billy to keep his things in and on. And he’s fully prepared to have to give him a real hard lecture about keeping his shit where it belongs, which is inside the dresser or hamper and nowhere else, but he doesn’t even need to. Hop gestures to the dresser and Billy thanks him quietly before immediately folding up all of his things neatly and placing them where they belong. He doesn’t have enough clothes to even fill the dresser. Hop has to tear himself away from watching bc Billy can feel Hop’s presence and looks over his shoulder every now and then as Hop stares.

It’s just that… this isn’t what he was expecting. This isn’t the same kid he agreed to take in.

He also 100% takes over literally every single chore! Some he does out of feeling of necessity, like cooking. He didn’t cook all the time at home bc Neil felt that was a “woman’s job” but the thing is, Neil and Susan would leave Billy and Max at home all night or even all weekend sometimes and they’d leave so few leftovers that Billy had to learn how to cook to feed the both of them. (I also like to think about little Billy cooking dinner with his mom or grandma ♥ anyway)

So the boy has been cooking for years and when he sees that Hop feeds himself and El frozen dinners or freezer waffles or take out, he realizes he needs to be the one to cook. His biggest fear about it is Hop having the same mentality as his father, AKA “this is a woman’s job and you shouldn’t even know how to do it”.

But he doesn’t! Hop is honestly amazed at Billy’s knowledge of a kitchen, esp because he 100% does not share that same knowledge. And yeah, Billy tends to make very simple, very easy dinners, but they still taste a whole lot better and do a whole lot more than the frozen dinners that they’re eating every night. So Hop lets him cook and supports it very much. There’s no underhanded comment there. He tries to tell Billy how much he appreciates it, but he’s not sure if the boy hears him.

And Billy does more than just cook. Bc some chores he takes on bc they just seem necessary, and others he takes on bc he’s always had them. Bc he feels obligated. Bc he feels fear bubbling in his chest over it. Bc the more he did around his old house, the less anger would be directed at him. Doing chores kept him busy, kept Neil from getting angry, and kept everything calm. For the most part. It was like a saving grace.

He carries that feeling with him.

So he does the laundry. Everyone’s laundry. He’s always taking out the trash as soon as it gets full, and he’ll check it religiously, even if he doesn’t need to throw anything away. He picks up everyone’s dishes and washes and dries them. It takes him a few days to remember where they all go, but he gets it down quickly and Hop finds himself never washing dishes again. And it takes a few weeks to realize but suddenly, on his designated Chore Day (which is the second of every month, bc I’m sorry but Hop really can’t be fucked to do any kind of chore unless he’s designated a day, not even with El here now. He tried for about a month and it didn’t work.) Hop finds himself with nothing to do. Like absolutely nothing. The shelves are dusted, the floor is swept, the trash is empty, the cabinets are full bc the dishes were washed this morning and when Hop goes to question Billy with a:

“Seriously kid? Is there anything you didn’t do?”

Billy’s eyes flash with fear. It’s a bit longer than a flash, actually. He’s scared. Hop doesn’t like how often he sees that look when he addresses the boy.

Billy starts to pull at a curl on the nape of his head, elbow against his chest, closing himself off even if it’s a little bit. Hop has been working hard to pick up on all of the little nervous habits Billy has. This is one of them.

“I dunno… is there?” Billy asks like he’s serious. Like either of them are serious about Billy needing to do more.

But Billy is serious.

Bc Billy is fucking terrified. Every day he feels it in his chest: Today is the day Hop realizes what a mess he’s gotten himself into. Today is the day Hop recognizes the tornado that is Billy Hargrove and he’s gonna realize how fucking far from worth it he is to keep here.

So he worries. And he does absolutely everything he can think of to prove to Hop that he isn’t going to be a nuisance in the “living under the same roof now” department. That he isn’t going to be the “typical messy teenager”. It’s before he lashes out at the niceness because right now, nice isn’t what scares him most. Everything just feels… tenuous. Uncertain and downright frightening. Even a speck of dirt or food or whatever on the floor strikes something in Billy and Hop sees how tense the boy is about it but doesn’t comment.

Until now, bc now Hop is catching on. Now Hop’s getting a peek at what’s happening. And it’s kind of completely breaking his heart.

“No. I was just joking around.”

Billy blinks hard, looking away and moving his tongue around in his mouth in deep thought.

“Yeah… course.”

Hop eyes him carefully as Billy heads out of the house with the lame excuse of “seeing a friend.”

And Hop realizes pretty quickly that Billy isn’t in the house too often in those first few months. If he’s not at school, he’s at practice, if he’s not at practice, he’s with “friends”, if he’s not with “friends”, he’s driving the kids to the ends of the Earth or something bc he’s literally just never home.

It’s not until he’s on call somewhere that he sees Billy, across the street, lugging boxes around the local warehouse and sweating like a pig.

And he watches him work and struggle and sweat and groan. He watches this boy, very visibly tired, and it really starts clicking. Bc Billy is always stressed out, tired, dragging himself around. He’s always falling asleep on the couch or just sitting at the dinner table. (he also always freaks out when he gets woken up)

It’s just that… yeah of fucking course this kid has a part time job. Of fucking course this kid is working himself to the bone. Now that Hop thinks about it, he reminds him of Jonathan, who always looks like he got hit by a freight train right out of bed. It’s as he’s really thinking about that when a red flag pops up, because Jonathan has about 3 jobs and is stressed far too often for a young teen to be stressed and Hop never really understood the amount of concern Joyce had for him until now bc fuck watching this boy work like a dog is not fun.

So he brings it up when they’re both home. When they’re eating dinner and El is at Max’s and there’s a lull in the conversation bc Hop just can’t stop thinking about how tired Billy always is. How stressed he always seems. It worries him so much it gives him headaches.

“So… you’re working down at the warehouse?”

Billy nods absentmindedly. “Yup.”

“And going to school?”

Billy takes a big bite. “Yup. Pretty sure that’s why I still go every day.”

“Right. And you do everything around the house?”

“Do you have a point?” Billy asks over a mouthful of chicken.

“I- Look kid, you afraid of getting kicked out or something?” Hop asks, putting his fork down and staring at Billy with the question hanging between them.

Billy tenses. Sets his own fork down. Sets his eyebrows low too, showing off that hard disdain he’s always sporting.

“Why? What are you thinking about?” Billy asks, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed tight. Hop has seen the boy do this countless times before: he’s trying to look tough. But the thing is, it never works. It didn’t even work the first time he did this. He’s trying to look big but in reality he looks like a little kid who got told he can’t have dessert tonight. He glares but it’s always paired with a pout like a toddler.

Hop shakes his head. He feels like he can never win with the boy. He also feels like he says all of the wrong things in the wrong ways at the wrong times. He relies on Joyce for a lot of stuff. Probably too much stuff, but he’s been trying, alright?

“Cool it, I just… you do too much.”

“I what?” Billy asks like it’s some kind of insult. Hop can’t help the sigh he releases.

“You do too much. You don’t need to bleed yourself dry every day, alright? You’re doing too much.”

Billy’s mouth moves but no words come out. He looks semi-desperate to say anything, but he doesn’t. Can’t? Just furrows his brows and squints his eyes and shakes his head minutely and pouts. And Hop doesn’t know how to continue this, he just feels bad. Feels it heavy in his heart bc this boy has the deepest circles under his eyes and he feels kind of responsible for it. Really, seriously feels responsible bc he watches this boy work himself down every day and doesn’t say anything about it. It’s just that he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do about any of it. He let it happen bc there wasn’t a lot of alternative when he was always at a loss for words as to why a boy would even want to work so fucking hard all the time.

But he can’t let it slide anymore.

“You can keep your job, I’m not saying you have to quit or anything, I just… stop cleaning everything. And doing all the laundry. It’s…. Nice, sure, but it’s too much.”

“I just… what are you talking about?” Billy asks, irritation laced with confusion in the blue of his eyes.

“I’m saying I need you to stop doing all the chores around here.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re tired! I can see you’re tired.” Hop pauses for a second. “And it weirds me out! I mean, you’re a kid, don’t you ever just act like a kid?”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You’re still 17, you’re a kid.”

“Why are you mad at me for doing what I’m supposed to do?”

“I’m not mad!” Hop nearly yells, hands going to his hair to pull at it. It’s a lie. He is mad. He’s mad at himself for not being able to find the words this boy needs to convince him to just calm down with the “responsibility” shit. “I just don’t want you running around-”

“I’m being responsible-”

“It’s not your responsibility!” Hop’s eyes are hooded by thick eyebrows bc he’s far too confused by these words to have any other kind of expression. At first glance, this kid looks like a brat. A boy who complains about having to do more than he needs to. About having to move off the couch to take the trash out.

But that’s what knocks Hop into it. Into the realization that he’s completely wrong. Bc Billy’s hands have always been calloused, he works on his car himself, he knows how to do all of this stuff in a timely manner. He doesn’t walk around like he’s confused, he walks around like a machine as he dusts the shelves and wipes down the tables.

It’s never a sarcastic, smarmy little  show of “I’m being a good house guest, can’t you see?”

No. it’s an act of: “i’m doing what I’m supposed to, don’t look at me.”

He always moves fast; always quick about it. His shoulders are always hunched over. Like he’s trying to stay hidden and now Hop knows. It starts clicking more and more and he’s livid at so many things right now he can’t even pinpoint them all and-

“No. It’s not your responsibility to take up every chore in the house. We can do it together and I know I kind of drop the ball on a lot of it but I’m gonna get better about cleaning but I can’t do that when you do everything and-”

Hop’s not even looking at Billy anymore. He’s looking at his mostly empty plate, rubbing at his forehead and his hair and trying to see through his squinted eyes bc this isn’t the conversation he ever thought he’d have to have but here he is and he looks up at Billy who-

Who is so confused. Whose eyebrows are closed in and whose lips are parted trying to form a question that isn’t coming out and Hopper sighs.

“Your place in this house is safe. I mean it.” Hop says seriously. Looks Billy in the eyes and doesn’t leave even a sliver of doubt. Doesn’t let Billy think for a second this is a joke or that it’s an empty promise. That he isn’t anything but absolutely serious.

Billy’s face falls from his confusion. His eyes are shifting everywhere, on the table, the floor, the wall next to them.

“Billy.” Hop starts, leaning forward a bit on his elbows on the table. “I’m serious. If you’re afraid of getting… I dunno, kicked out or something, you won’t.”

Billy blinks.

“Just…” Hop continues on a sigh. “Please stop doing everything. It makes me nervous.”

Billy nods slowly, eyes still confused. But he smiles a bit at the small smile Hop offers and it’s fine. Everything feels fine. Far better than fine.

And so Billy lets them help. El sweeps the floors and dusts the shelves. Hop wipes off the counters and learns to cook some more, as well as load the dishwasher correctly. Billy teaches him the “secrets” of doing laundry. (“They’re not secrets, old man, you’re just a caveman who doesn’t know how to keep towels soft.”)

And it’s a little alien for both of them (and everything is a new and exciting experience for El) but it’s far better than fine.

[the-suicidal-lizard]

Emotionally Stunted | Jonathan Crane x Edward Nygma |

Summary: onathan Crane doesn't feel love, even when he teams up with Edward Nygma.

Warnings: Major Character Death, Angst, Sad, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, References To Past Child Abuse, Graphic Depictions Of Violence.

POV Jonathan Crane, a slight POV change for Edward Nygma.

I also quoted Sherlock (BBC).

Basically, @goliath-birdeater​ posted this post, and I responded, as you can see, and I got really bored, and wrote all this... if I have messed up, I am sorry! I’m not the best at writing for these characters. (This is also on AO3.)

Jonathan doesn't feel love, let's get that straight. Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side. The chemistry in love is incredibly simple and very destructive, all coming from your "heart". How disgusting... your heart, you should never let it rule your head, and it's something people continuously do. Jonathan always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage, and while he's never had proof, he knew he never had to feel "love" again.

See, the first time he felt anything akin to love was the first time he used his Fear Toxin on a victim. It was pathetic, as he contorted and screamed, shaking with sweat dripping down is forehead, the screams of pure terror echoed and bounced off the walls, he nearly clawed out of his eyes, as he clung to himself rocking back and forth in the corner.

It was beautiful. His heart fluttered, suddenly out of rhythm, speeding up, and skipping a couple beats at a time, the palpitation was something he remembers vividly. It pounded, quivered and throbbed, and his hands, while shaky, were also sweating in nerves. His pupils were dilated in delight, and he licked his quickly drying lips, his mouth drying out too. His stomach was swarmed with butterflies, and his stomach twisted and turned. He was practically dithering. Now this, this is love. That was the closest he'll feel to love. And, it's all he needs.

............

When Jonathan Crane met Edward Nygma, his heart didn't flutter like one would think. It skips a beat, then continues. He doesn’t even notice it, he just continued staring at Riddler, as he threw his arms around talking about how he was going to create a huge robot, honestly; it was rather annoying, and the man was merely existing. He might be psychoanalysing the man, but he clearly has a Narcissistic Personality Disorder, it's obvious ("me, me, me, me! I, I, I, I!"). You know, he’ll probably never notice his heart missing a thud, or two, or the fact it just sped up lightly, then calmed instantly when Edward threw his open green shirt out, showing off his... not abs, but there was a certain tone to his stomach. Suddenly, he felt hungry, which is strange in itself, since he doesn't feel hungry often, he'll have to go to his shack and eat a few stale crackers to stop it, or maybe he's sick... which is also weird, given he doesn't get sick very much. Again, might be the lack of food.

His mind drifted to his first victim, ignoring the man in front of him. He sighed wistfully. He’ll always have those butterflies in his stomach, with his fluttering heart from his first victim. It's so... heavenly.

"Am I that beautiful, Mr. Scarecrow?" Asked Edward, with a wide smile, his smile was honestly too big for his face, and his eyes were dancing in joy.

Jonathan scowled, having realised he had lost his cold gaze, his eyes having softened with the thought of his first victim. "You think too highly of yourself, Mr. Nygma." He said, voice cold, matching the weather that his his skin.

"Because, I am clearly the best! So?" Asked Edward, squatting, his elbows on his knees, "what are you doing here, Mr. Crane?"

Jonathan already hated the fact he had come here. This was Penguin's idea "Edward's a good partner, he's smart", he's a narcissistic, not smart.

"How can I help?" Asked Edward, eyes squinted, looking over Jonathan, who suddenly felt psychoanalysed back. "You clearly need it."

His left eye was twitching in anger, but he took a deep breath, calming down. "I do," Jonathan said, trying to keep calm, playing into the mans narcissism. "Mr. Nygma, you are the smartest man in Gotham," the ginger preened, chest out, and Jonathan smirked behind his mask. "I need your help to take down Batman, and I will, obviously lend you a helping hand."

Edward smiled widely, and jumped down from the ledge. He is rather agile. "And, I will happily help, my burlap sacked friend."

............

A set up in the form of a heist, some Fear Toxin, a "claw machine" to grab hold of the hero, and a gun. That should be enough, if done correctly.

Well, Batman came, just as Edward said he would, and Edward was putting on a show. He was dressed in sparkly green blazer, and his arms were out, a necklace, a crown, jewels on each finger, bracelets up his arms, and money stuffed in his pockets.

"Oh! Batman! So good to see you!" Edward called from the railing, which he was balanced on, bowing dramatically to Batman.

"Nygma," Batman greeted, looking up to Edward.

Jonathan was in the shadows, peaking out from another room, rolling his eyes. Honestly, Edward was much to... flashy for his taste. He wore the jewellery as if he owned the look, and was sparkly to the point of blinding a man. Why Penguin suggested Edward to team up, he'll have no idea, and why Jonathan agreed to do so, well... call it desperation, something Jonathan will deny, and take to his grave.

Any second now, the gas will seep from the ventilation system, and affect Batman. Jonathan was equipped with a gas mask of his own design, and Edward had one behind his back.

He looked back out again, and his eyes narrowed, seeing Batman now physically fighting Edward, punched and kicks thrown about; (Edward had mocked him for Robin's death, at the hands of Joke, "at least he came back, huh? Though, seems to me he's a bit more villainous. Will you be slow this time too?")

Jonathan counted down the minutes; any minute now.

"F-Freeze!" Came a terrified squeak, making Jonathan turn - this night was going terribly. It was an officer. "G-G.C.P.D-D.!" The officer stuttered, gun out, arms shaking. Jonathan merely raised his fear gas, and sprayed; the officer screamed, and fell, then began rubbing eyes, frantically trying to rid whatever terrifying thing appeared.

Jonathan had no time to relish the screams. The echo of his first victim encased his dark heart, the figments of his fluttering heart came back for a second, before he saw a fist, dressed in black leather, come at his face, and he ducked as it hit the wall; Batman.

Batman turned, and threw another punch, and Jonathan moved back, swinging his hand, and managing to cut into Batman's leather and skin. He didn't pause to listen to man yell - however short it might be, and ran. Edward was already wearing the mask, and Jonathan saw the gas seeping out of the vents.

The plan had gone south, but there was still hope — no, actually. The controller for the machine is broken. Jonathan went to run, but Edward called out, "the G.C.P.D. are out there, we're surrounded. We'll have to go up!"

Jonathan hated to admit it, but it made sense. He rushed up the steps, "let's go!"

The two rushed up the stairs, skipping steps and going up two at a time. They bashed the exit door open, and rushed onto the roof, and Edward took off his mask.

There was a click from behind them. Jonathan turned to see the Batrope flying at him, but much to his shock, Edward got between the rope and Jonathan, and lifted his arm. The rope was wrapped around Edward's thin arm, that held small muscles, and suddenly, Batman pulled Edward forward, and Edward went like a piece of paper. But, when he was close enough, he raised his leg, and slammed his foot against Batman's head, knocking the man down with a grunt. Edward collected the rope, and ran again, "let's go!"

Jonathan didn't need to be told twice.

............

"Why did you get in between me and the rope?" Asked Jonathan, who had been silently watching Edward, who tended to his bruises, and had thrown the rope on the floor in a fit of rage.

"Well... when I team up with a partner," Edward said, slowly, looking down. "I make sure the other is safe, and nothing happens to them... especially, when something doesn't go right..."

Jonathan frowned, and squinted his eyes. He has been actively psychoanalysing Edward since the man agreed to a team up, and found the man had a slight Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for riddles and puzzles, and clicked his index finger with his thumb when he knew he was in the wrong, yet wouldn't admit it verbally. But this time, it was different. This was Edward's way of saying that the reason for their failure was his fault, and the reason he got between the rope and him was a way of apologising, but that's when he understood what Penguin meant.

You could always count on Edward keeping you safe when you was in a partnership with him.

Jonathan didn't say thank you, but he nodded and hummed; it was Edward's fault after all.

"What would you see, Mr. Nygma?" Asked Jonathan, leaning on the table, watching Edward spread out his blueprints for his next plan, not that Jonathan was listening. He kept the annoyance he felt down, and to himself, after all, Edward had not only helped him from Batman, but also made sure he actually ate. It was canned tomato soup, which might not be the best, but it helped his stomach that was usually empty; anything with too much flavour made him sick. And, why was he annoyed with Edward? Because, of the stupid, black oil smudge on the mans forehead.

"What would I see, "what"?" Asked Edward, rolling his shoulders; no doubt they ached from hunching over.

"With me Fear Toxin," Jonathan clarified. He leaned forward, and wiggled his needle fingers, "well?"

Edward leaned back, eyes flashing uncertainly. He stared at the needles, and lifted his goggles up, revealing blackened eyes from soot. "I'm not sure," he said in a tone that suggested he knew what he'd see.

"Hmm," hummed Jonathan, tone not impressed. "Tell me," he moved closer. Edward moved away. Jonathan moved away. He watched from the corner of his eyes, as Edward relaxed, shoulders dropping. He waited for a second, as Edward picked up a pencil, when suddenly, he jabbed his needles into Edward's side, releasing the toxins.

He watched, leaning back in the chair. He grinned, his lips curling up in delight, as he watched Edward's eyes dilate into small dots, not bigger than a needle, and Edward's breathing became ragged, his chest heaving, and face dropping, eyes wide. It was delicious, it was gorgeous and delightful. He watched as Edward stood up quickly, knocking his chair back in terror.

"I-I'm sorry! D-Daddy!" Whimpered Edward, backing up, and falling onto his back, scrawling backwards. "P-please! I'm sorry! I won't cheat again!"

It really was pretty, and... and that's when he felt something familiar, from years ago. A flutter in his heart, skipping beats rapidly, and his stomach twirling, and swirling with fluttering butterflies. Jonathan wet his chapped, and scarred lips, and lifted his mask up to sip the stale, old water, wetting his dry mouth. He put the mask back on, and watched in delight. He was beautiful... it was beautiful.

"I-I'm sorry! D-don't hit me! P-please!" Cried Edward, hands up, as if ready to block an attack.

Jonathan, knowing that he needed Edward in his right mind to come up with a plan, walked forward, and bright out the antidote. Well, Edward was beautiful while it lasted.

............

Jonathan had the idea this time. It was his plan, thought Edward wasn't too happy about it, apparently, in Edward's egotistical mind his plan was "better, and you should have let me handle it Mr. Crane. Clearly, I am smarter.", Jonathan doubts it, but fed the mans ego, "of course Mr. Nygma, I'm only easing your load.", Edward fell for it.

The plan was to use the "claw machine", as the controller was fixed, and back Batman up into the machine, which will trap him, then would inject him with Fear Toxin with a press of a button, as Edward was "kind" enough to improve his machine. This will be done while Edward is defacing an art museum. And, so far, it was all going well. While green paint and question marks surrounded the area, Edward dodged each attack, managing to not say a word, and lead Batman into the machine. He was dodging with the grace and elegance of a ballerina, but that's where it all went wrong... again.

Jonathan had been planning on letting Edward deal with the taxing part, while he dealt with the death part. He waited just around the corner to end Batman's life once he was in the confounded machine, but he heard a shocked yell, the a pained yelp. One that was slighter higher than Batman's deep voice. Jonathan looked out, and paused seeing Edward, trapped in his own damn machine, and Batman holding the little controller.

Really, if it was anyone else, he'd let his partner in crime deal with it, but Edward went by a code so it seemed. Help the one he's working with, no matter how much the other might not like him, the very least Jonathan could do is adhere to the code? Not to mention, Edward, when not being a villain, was nice. He cared, probably a little too much, but if you asked him, he'd deny it. Not to mention, if it was anyone else, he'd let Batman press the other button, wanting to watch the other contort and scream in fear. But, he's seen Edward do that already. He truly was beautiful, or... it was beautiful anyway.

Making a split second decision, Jonathan stepped out from the wall, and sprayed Batman with a bit of extra Fear Gas. Batman coughed, and dropped the button, raising his arm, and covering his face with his cape. Jonathan opened the machine for Edward, and dragged him off, escaping through the back.

............

"I could have gotten out, had I wanted to!" Assured Edward, strutting back and forth in front of Jonathan, who watched unimpressed. "And, I would have done it better!" He declared, waving a dismissive hand, but paused suddenly, looking to the floor. "But, you did pretty okay getting me out."

Jonathan realised this translated into "thank you for saving me". He hummed, and nodded, "thank you."

............

"Maybe we shouldn't do anything big or extravagant this time, Edward," Jonathan said, watching as Edward sipped his now cold tea.

Edward spluttered out a shocked, and horrified, "what?!"

Jonathan had found the man's chokes, while few and far between, were done when he was caught of guard. He lived to hear it at this point, it was rather amusing. "Well," the good doctor was getting desperate and impatient, but he would not admit that to Edward. (He feels the need to clarify, that this time it was not aimed at Edward; though it was a common feeling to have directed to Edward, there was also this warm fuzz that was there too.) "If we just end this as quickly as possible, then we can all get on with our lives, and we can go out separate ways." He's been with Edward for a few months now, and if he's honest (to himself), he's unsure if he could go back to silence. He'll miss the clicks of a Rubik's Cube, and the tapping of nails, quiet murmuring of plans, and "riddle me this, my dear Mr. Crane!", he'll also miss the late night conversations of "my favourite colour is actually purple, not green", as Edward has just as bad a sleep schedule as him.

Edward hummed, "yes..." He tapped his finger against the old desk. "Do you... feel love, Mr. Crane?"

Jonathan fell silent. Love... love is a dangerous disadvantage, sentiment, which is a chemical defect found in the losing side. "I did once, years ago, with my first victim in which I used my Fear Toxin. Edward, it was a work of art..." He looked to Edward, and swallowed, seeing the soft eyes the man in green wore.

"Right..." Edward replied, staring at Jonathan, just looking and gazing, eyes soft in ways.

Jonathan tried to no psychoanalyse, but couldn't help but to... surly not. Surely, the Riddler doesn't harbour... feelings for the older man? Even if he does, Jonathan won't say a thing, he doesn't feel love. He doesn't even feel how his heart suddenly stutters and that warm feeling resurfaces, or the tingle of want tickles his heart. He feels none of it.

"Jonathan..."

It seems like Edward is going to say something, and Jonathan couldn't stop it.

"I think... I think I might..." Edward was messing with his index finger, cracking it with his thumb. "Me and... you know?... you..."

Jonathan knew what Edward was trying to say, and Edward knew Jonathan knew what he was trying to say. The older man looked down to the table, ignoring Edward again, "let's get back to work." He said instead, glancing to Edward from the corner of his eyes. Edward's eyes fell, he knew what Jonathan meant, even if Jonathan hadn't said it out loud.

I don't do love.

............

This was much like a date, Jonathan noted. The two stood on the top of a roof, leaning over the edge of said roof, and Edward had binoculars out, pressed to his eyes, looking at the cars passing; Edward's plan was to attack Bruce Wayne, make a big show of if, then when Batman came to save the billionaire, Jonathan was attack from behind.

Jonathan looked up to the dark sky, and looked at the twinkling lights, flickering in and out of his vision.

"You know, if you squint you can see Sirius from here," Edward said suddenly, and Jonathan looked to him. Edward was staring at him, with soft eyes and gentle smile, his ginger hair whipping about in the wind.

Jonathan blinked, and looked back up, "hmm."

"It's apart of the Canis Majoris constellation..." Edward said, "the brightest star in the night sky..." Jonathan glanced to him behind his mask, and blinked, seeing Edward watching him with a smile, cheek resting in his hand. "In Egypt it was Sothis, and is depicted with Jupiter in the Dendera Zodiac, as Jupiter was conjunct Sirius during the solar eclipse of 51 BC, the day that Cleopatra’s father died." His eyes were bright, in joy and excitement.

Jonathan frowned, and stared at Edward, his eyes are bright...

Edward looked back down, and shrugged, "just thought it was an interesting fact..."

"Hmm."

It began raining, the droplets of cold water hit Jonathan's outfit - it's not waterproof. The flooring quickly became wet, and slick with water, and the walls were cold and damp.

Jonathan frowned, feeling something looming from behind him. As if something towered over him, a figure covered in a blanket of darkness. Automatically, Jonathan's shoulders tensed up to his ears. This isn't how the plan was supposed to go. He grabbed his gas, and turned, arm out stretched, but Batman grabbed his hand, squeezing, making Jonathan drop the bottle.

Edward turned, and grabbed his cane, and spun it elegantly. He slammed the top of his cane into Batman's head quickly, and Batman grunted, letting go of Jonathan, as he recoiled from the pain.

Jonathan groaned, holding his wrist, that had been strained under the mans grasp. Edward took his hand gently, making Jonathan looking up in surprise.

"Is your hand okay?" Asked Edward, frowning.

Jonathan opened his mouth behind his mask, but suddenly, Batman's leg slammed on their connected hands, and kicked the two in the chest, knocking them back.

Edward fell on his back, and grunted, and Jonathan fell on his side, groaning in pain. Edward gripped his cane, and swung at Batman, who ducked, and gripped the cane, throwing him over his body. Edward landed on his feet, and was between Jonathan and Batman, cane out, and Jonathan looked up in shock, eyes wide.

Batman threw his fist, and Edward blocked, spinning his cane. Batman went to his knees, and swung his leg, swiping Edward's legs out from under him, and Jonathan caught him, kicking his leg up, slamming his foot into Batman's face.

That's when it hit Jonathan; this is it. The one where it all ends. One way, or another.

The two were now next to each other, prepared to block any attack that might befall the other. Whether Jonathan did this because he considered Edward a friend, he'll never know.

Batman suddenly threw a Batarang at Edward, who spun his cane, and Jonathan got between the two, pushing Edward back slightly. Jonathan didn't have his scythe, but he knew he had to protect Edward; it was a two way thing.

Jonathan blocked one of Batman's fists with his hand, but suddenly, a dull pain spread over his stomach, and was kicked back by Batman's boot. He fell on top of Edward, knocking them both back, near the edge of the building. The two got up, but was met with a booted foot swung at their faces.

Jonathan saw stars for a second, surrounded by black abyss. But, not the starry night sky, not Edward's bright blue eyes that shined in the dark, but painful stars that pounded in and out of view, his head spinning and pulsing. He groaned, hearing a loud yell in shock. He opened his eyes, and noticed the lack of, "Edward?"

Batman was looking over the edge, and Jonathan kicked his legs out from under him. Batman fell onto his side, and Jonathan got on top of him, when he heard a grunt. Jonathan looked over the edge, hearing the noise, seeing Edward, clinging to the side of a fire escape.

Edward looked up, "Jonathan?" He was holding on with one hand, his other arm handing limp at his side, bleeding heavily, and one leg bleeding, his ankle bruised.

Jonathan leaned down, reaching his hand out, "take my hand!"

"I can't!" Yelled Edward in panic, "if I let go, I'll fall!"

Jonathan leaned down further down, "use your other —" Suddenly, he was yanked back by his collar, and he kicked at Batman, and fell on his back, scrambling back to the ledge, and Batman jumped onto Jonathan. Quickly, he raised his legs, and threw Batman of the ledge.

Batman fell onto the fire escape with a grunt, and the shake knocked Edward about, his gloved fingers slipping from the wet railing. Jonathan looked to Edward with wide eyes, and Edward gave a horrified gasp, falling.

Everything was in slow motion.

Edward's ginger hair was flying around his head, his clothes smacking his skin.

Jonathan jumped down and grabbed the Batrope from Batman, and fell after Edward. He shot one at the fire escape, and the other at Edward. Jonathan yelled, "Edward!"

Though, Edward couldn't quiet hear, it was all a bit of a blur, a haze. There were tears running down Edward's cheeks, wetting his blue eyes. He didn't scream. He was in too much shock, his heart in his stomach, being eaten from his stomach acid. His mouth was open slightly, as if wanting to scream, but his voice had given in the beginning, gone.

The rope was getting closer, Jonathan's eyes were determined behind his mask. He was outstretched, grasping, reaching, desperate, and that's when Edward realised three fundamental truths at the exact same time.

If Jonathan does catch Edward with that rope, he'll get whiplash, and most likely die from that, the jerk snapping his neck, and/or spleen, the next thing Edward realised, is the sudden drop from falling from the ledge would also likely kill him, or at the very least psychologically "freeze" him and become unaware of his environment to the point he'll feel like he's have died, the change was so sudden after all, but the final one was plain and simple. The final was clear, and easy... so simple, that Edward was surprised it didn't come to him first. Jonathan is not going to make it in time. Edward's body will slam into the ground with a loud crack.

Edward is going to die. And, he's strangely okay with that. He's accepted it.

Eyelashes wet, Edward close your eyes one last time.

Either way, he knew when he's finished falling, whether he's alive or not, when he open his eyes (wherever that may be), the first thing he'll see is something akin to heaven. He'll see Jonathan Crane.

He gasped. He is ready to die.

The roped wrapped around his waist, snatching at it, catching him.

Too late.

A loud bang and crack echoes the suddenly quiet area, Edward's head smashing against the concrete ground, and body bouncing up due to the rope now stuck to his waist, and the other rope wrapped around the fire escape, and Jonathan jerked, as it stopped him from falling, his fingertips wet in sweat and rain. Jonathan swallowed, seeing him still, bent backwards, and limp, swaying from the rope that held him in the air. He connected the rope to the other rope, and fell.

He fell down.

He landed with a quiet thud, and lifted Edward's body up softly, "Edward?" He whispered, swallowing, and pulled the rope off, kneeling down. His arms were around his body softly, feeling and looking for life.

"Hey, Edward?" He took a shaky breath, holding Edward close, and swallowed. Edward's head was limp, falling back over his arm, his red hair frayed out, and his arms limp at his sides. Jonathan gently caressed his paling and peaceful face, "Edward!" But, he got no response.

He ripped his mask off suddenly, throwing it to the side. Rain drops landed on his grey, chapped and scarred skin, dripping into his gaunt cheekbones, and tired eyes. He lifted a long, bony, index finger, and wiped his cheekbone, and blinked, seeing it didn't have the consistency of rain water. He rubbed his thumb against the finger, and licked it with a dried tongue, salty. Oh... it was a tear...

Blood.

Blood was falling.

Blood was trickling from Edward's nose, down the side of his face, standing out against his oddly pale face, that was usually a pale colour anyway, but this was more like a ghost white. It was like cherries, or the colour of rubies that the man would steal, and it made him... feel something... it was trickling to his equally red hair. He placed a hand on the back of Edward's head, and paused, it was warm and sticky, and he felt the suddenly matted red hair.

More blood.

So much blood.

Edward wasn't okay... he was far from okay...

That's when Jonathan realised what he was feeling; fear. He hasn't felt fear for years, not after he got over his fear of crows. No... no he can't feel fear, for what reason? People die everyday! Edward's death is nothing new. But... he should have died of old age, not from falling, not from Batman, or... at the very least, it should have been a big affair, not quiet and small...

So... Edward isn't dead!

"Edward?!" Jonathan gave a choked sobbed, eyes red with tears. What's happened to him? He doesn't cry, why he's crying?! Well, usually people cry when some they know is dead, because they care... but, he doesn't care about Edward... he doesn't. Sure, Edward might have had feelings for him, but Jonathan does not have feelings for Edward... right...?

Tears fell down his cheeks, and his shoulders shook, "please!" Come on, we could have gone to see the stars, gone on another heist... take on Batman together... together, together, together! That was, that was... them together... and suddenly, Jonathan realised something. His heart had stopped beating, metaphorically at least, his heart... was... was actually beating normally, is the better description. It didn't stop, it didn't stutter, or skip, he felt his stomach, which had been unusually hungry, or filled with a butterfly like feeling, was suddenly empty.

Has he...? Has he been feeling love...?

"No... Edward! Stay with me, please..." Jonathan said, frantically, finding himself begging. "Y-you're okay...! Come on!" He yelled, gently shaking him, but Edward was still limp. "I like you too!" He tried, "s-see? So, come on, please!" He begged, brushing ginger strands from his face, "Edward, please!" He sobbed, and brought him closer, "I-I'm... sorry..."

Jonathan felt a figure behind him again, and he scowled, looking to Batman, who was watching. There was a frown on his face; not sad, but it was of remorse. Jonathan glared, and held Edward closer.

"Come on, Dr. Crane," Batman cuffed Jonathan's wrists, and Jonathan didn't argue, or put up a fight, just waited and let Batman do what he wanted.

Jonathan didn't feel love. Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side. The chemistry in love is incredibly simple and very destructive, all coming from your heart. How disgusting... your heart, you should never let it rule your head, and it's something people continuously do. Jonathan had always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage, and while he never had proof, he knew he never had to feel love again.

But, he did. He felt love again. While the chemistry is simple, the emotions is difficult and complicated. And, Jonathan proved himself right, love is a dangerous disadvantage. He was willing to throw everything away if it meant bringing Edward back. But, that will never happen. Edward is dead, and Jonathan was too late to realise how he felt, too late to catch him.

No wonder he's on the losing side.

[abbacchiosbelt]

🌟 Abbacchiosbelt Masterlist 2020 - Part I 🌟

An updated masterlist of all my works on this blog. Hopefully, I didn’t miss anything! I had to repost this because apparently, Tumblr has a limit on links... Anyways, please enjoy! ♥

Part II!

All Writing 📝

AO3 Archive [A majority of my works on AO3 have been archived on this blog, though not all of them are. If you’d like to check out my AO3, here’s the link!]

BY CHARACTER [Fics, Headcanons, Ask Prompt Responses]

Part 1 - Phantom Blood ☀️

Jonathan Joestar

Speedwagon

George Joestar 1st

Part 2 - Battle Tendency 🧣

Joseph Joestar

Caesar Zeppeli

Kars

Lisa Lisa

Wamuu

Esidisi

Santana

Part 3 - Stardust Crusaders 🔪

Polnareff

Avdol

Dio Brando

Noriaki Kakyoin

Part 4 - Diamond Is Unbreakable 💎

Rohan Kishibe

Jotaro Kujo

Yoshikage Kira

Mikitaka

Tomoko Higashikata

Josuke Higashikata

Okuyasu Nijumura

Yukako Yamagishi

Part 5 - Vento Aureo 🐞

Bruno’s Gang

Bruno Buccellati

Leone Abbacchio

Giorno Giovanna

Guido Mista

Narancia Ghirga

Pannacotta Fugo

Trish Una

La Squadra

Risotto Nero

Prosciutto

Melone

Ghiaccio

Pesci

Illuso

Formaggio

Sorbet

Gelato

Unita Special

Squalo

Tiziano

Cioccolata

Secco

Diavolo

Doppio

Part 6 - Stone Ocean 🕸️

Jolyne Kujo

Hermes Costello

Weather Report

Narciso Anasui

Part 7 - Steel Ball Run 🏇

Johhny Joestar

Diego Brando

Gyro Zeppeli

Hot Pants

Funny Valentine

Part 8 - Jojolion ⚓

Josuke Higashikata 8 (Gappy)

Yasuho Hirose

Confession Session ❤️

Phantom Blood ☀️

Jonathan Joestar

Speedwagon

Erina Pendleton

William Zeppeli

Battle Tendency 🧣

Joseph Joestar

Caesar Zeppeli

Lisa Lisa

Kars

Esidisi

Wamuu

Santana

The Pillarmen

Stardust Crusaders 🔪

Polnareff

DIO

Avdol

Daniel D’arby

Terence / Telence D’arby

Mariah Confession

Vanilla Ice

N’Doul

Hol Horse

The World

Star Platinum

Silver Chariot

Hierophant Green

Magician’s Red

Diamond Is Unbreakable 💎

Rohan

Jotaro

Josuke

Okuyasu

Tomoko

Mikitaka

Yoshikage Kira

Killer Queen

Vento Aureo 🐞

Bruno

Sticky Fingers

Abbacchio

Moody Blues

Narancia

Giorno

Gold Experience

Mista

Sex Pistols

Fugo

Purple Haze

Trish

Bucci Gang / Bruno’s Gang

La Squadra

Melone

Prosciutto

Risotto

Illuso

Pesci

Doppio

Diavolo

King Crimson

Cioccolata

Secco

Squalo & Tiziano

Part 6 - Stone Ocean 🕸️

Jolyne Kujo

Hermes Costello

Foo Fighters

Weather Report

Narciso Anasui

Steel Ball Run 🏇

Diego Brando

Johnny Joestar

Gyro Zeppeli

Hot Pants

Funny Valentine

Jojolion ⚓

Gappy (Josuke Higashikata 8)

Yasuho Hirose

Jobin Higashikata

WRITING PROMPTS & OTHER🖋️

Fluff Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Ask Prompt

Yandere Prompt

JJBA Headcanons

Mini Fic Headcanons

Fluff

Not SFW

Valentine’s Day 2020

Monster AU

General AUs

COMMISSIONED WORKS 🌻

Unwrap Me, Baby | Joseph x F!Reader [NSFW]

Portraits of Home | Family AU - Jonathan, OC Elisa Joestar, and Dio [SFW]

Still Breathing | Cioccolata x F!Reader ! Please read the tags ! [NSFW]

Your Hand In Mine | Kira x F!Reader [NSFW]

See You Again | Prosciutto x F!Reader (Shae ☻) [NSFW]

Stay And Love Me | Bruno x F!Reader x Abbacchio [NSFW]

Easy To Please | Joseph (Part 3) x F!Reader [NSFW]

Sweet Spot | OC x Risotto [NSFW]

Happy To Say | Abbacchio x F!Reader [NSFW]

Lights Out | Mista x Reader [NSFW[

In Care Of | Proscitutto x F!Reader x Risotto [NSFW]

JJBA FIC MASTERLIST 💌

Give In | Dio Brando x M!Reader [NSFW]

Paradise Isn’t Far | Guido Mista x F!Reader [NSFW]

Stolen | Diavolo!Bruno x F!Reader [NSFW]

Always Forever | Bruno x F!Reader x Abbacchio [NSFW]

Hold My Love | Diavolo x Doppio [NSFW]

Disregard | Prosciutto x F!Reader [NSFW]

Anything For You | Prosciutto x F!Reader [NSFW]

Just Like That | Prosciutto x F!Reader x Melone  [NSFW]

Full | Risotto x F!Reader [NSFW]

Need | Risotto Nero (Solo, F!Reader S/O) [NSFW]

Drift to Me | Jotaro Kujo x F!Reader [NSFW]

Reckless | Tiziano x F!Reader x Squalo [NSFW]

Purple Breeze | Merman AU w/Jotaro & Star Platinum [SFW]

Violent Intimacy | Cioccolata x F!Reader x Secco [NSFW]

Unfinished Business | La Squadra and Cioccolata [NSFW]

Human Nature | Mikitaka x Reader [SFW]

Amore Carino | Doppio x F!Reader [NSFW]

When I’m With You | Jotaro x Reader [SFW]

Moonlight | Abbacchio x F!Reader [NSFW]

Show Off | Prosciutto x F!Reader [SUGGESTIVE]

Control Yourself | Sorbet x F!Reader x Gelato [NSFW]

Lovely Beings | Kars x Reader [NSFW]

I Want It All | Doppio x F!Reader [NSFW]

Feels Right | Abbacchio x Reader [SFW]

Bomb Pop | Polpo x Reader [NSFW]

Process | Melone & GN!Reader [SFW]

Lucky You | Bruno x GN!Reader [SUGGESTIVE]

Midnight Snack | Gyro x GN!Reader x Johnny [SFW]

Ride With Us | Gyro x F!Reader x Johnny [NSFW]

Hold That Pose | Jonathan x F!Reader x Dio [NSFW]

Try | Guido Mista x GN!Reader [NSFW]

As We Believed | Merman!Risotto Nero x GN!Reader [NSFW]

Say You Will | Siren!Abbacchio x GN! Reader [NSFW]

Morning Surprise | Johnny x F!Reader x Gyro [SFW]

Tomorrow Is Safe | Naga!Doppio x F!Reader [NSFW]

Teacher’s Pet | Professor!Diavolo x F!Reader [NSFW]

Il Mio | Cioccolata x GN!Reader [NSFW]

Coming Untouched | Melone x F!Reader [NSFW]

Soft | Jotaro Kujo x GN!Reader [SFW]

[nymph-patt]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Super Sons (Comics) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne Characters: Jonathan Samuel Kent, Damian Wayne, Kal-Il | Ultraman, Talia al Ghul Additional Tags: Hurt/confort, Angst, Character Death, Cursing : nope, Decapitation : Yup, Happy Ending, ??? - Freeform, Mutual Pining, damijon secret santa 2020, but is not a xmasy fic, oopsie Summary:

Everything was red. The entire world was surrounded by flames.

Incessant buzzes ringing into his ears drowning his thoughts. He felt like being swallowed by his feet, losing his strength, his powers. The sun wasn’t in the sky anymore. Everything was dark except the wall of fire. He couldn’t fly out, he couldn’t climb out, he could barely breathe… He was stuck in a volcano prison… again. 

“--than”…”--onathan”… “Jona--” A cacophony of muffled sounds echoing started to pull him back, the clash of metal colliding, huffs of blows and fighting, a voice in particular. His voice… “--THAN!! JONATHAN!!!!”

He blinked feeling hot tears falling, his vision was blurred but he could see… green.

  "Love is powerful thing, don’t you think?”

((Happy NEW YEAR Y'ALL!!!!!))

Gift for @nanipinku <3 hope you like it!!

@damijonsecretsanta

[majorxmaggiexboy]

RULES: answer the questions & tag 21 some people.

TAGGED BY:  @songbird-not-found ( thank yoooou! :3 ) TAGGING: @therapardalis, @cutecutejames, @poploppege, @samayla, @riffrcffed

ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo FAVORITE FOOD:  it goes between autumn-y salads and hashbrown casseroles :3 FAVORITE SEASON: autumn! JEANS OR SHORTS: jeans most of the time, shorts when it’s hot out WHERE ARE YOU FROM: Alabama LAST BOOK YOU READ: i’ve been/am currently reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, but the last book i read all the way through was probably Selene Castrovilla’s Upon Secrecy. DREAM VACATION: i mean i’ve been feeling an inexplicable pull toward Connecticut since like 6th Grade but honestly? Just about anywhere! Just let me stay in a cute little b&b and have enough time on the vacation to not have to rush anything at all. NATURAL HAIR COLOR: brown HEIGHT: 5′1 INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT: ambivert! TEA OR COFFEE: tea DO YOU WORK OUT REGULARLY: i fall out of the habit pretty easily but generally yes FAVORITE BEVERAGE:  C H O C O L A T E  M I L K  or hot tea :3 DO YOU HAVE PETS:  yes! Between the neighborhood cats and my two indoor boys, i have seven cats! Their names are: Gray Major, Montgomery (Monty-Moo), Samuel, Culper, Eggroll (Eggy-Moo), Mister Norrel (Norrell-Noop), and (John) Chellers (Chellybean!) YOUR IDEAL DAY OFF:  getting lots of bits done that don’t get done when i’m doing the things i’m getting a day off from! and with a nice bubblebath at the end :D IN A RELATIONSHIP OR SINGLE: single SOMETHING UNIQUE ABOUT ME:  i mean technically speaking i assisted with a felony at like...13-15? Only technically and only in a very tiny way and context makes it no big deal but. Yeppers.

[viralhottopics]

Audacity review rallying cry for Obama legacy drowns out Trump ‘death rattle’

Jonathan Chait makes a stirring case for a president who reflected America as it is and will be, even after the dark and destructive Republican interregnum to come

Jonathan Chaits brilliant new book, Audacity, upends the conventional wisdom of the Washington commentariat and a surprising number of liberals that Barack Obamas presidency was little more than eight years of disappointment and broken promises.

Obama accomplished nearly everything he set out to do, Chait writes, before setting out a compelling case that he was one of the most successful presidents of modern times.

Audacity barely mentions the huge strides made by the LGBT community during Obamas administration, including marriage equality, the end of discrimination in the military and the appointment of 11 openly gay federal judges. But Chait, a writer for New York magazine, is quite comprehensive about the Democrats legislative achievements.

Obamas program has already reshaped the economy, healthcare, energy, finance and education in quantifiable ways, Chait writes. Those ways include a record 75 straight months of job growth, a 4.7% unemployment rate, an increase of 9.7% in the incomes of the lowest 10th of American households, the lowest rate of uninsured Americans ever because of the Affordable Care Act, and the most serious reform of the financial system in 75 years through Dodd-Frank.

In one of scores of surprising statistics sprinkled throughout the book, Chait notes that before the financial crisis of 2008, financial firms accounted for a staggering 30% of all corporate profits in the United States.

By 2015, he writes, after the reforms of Dodd-Frank, that share had fallen to 17%. The financial industry, swollen beyond any reasonable scale, has been cut down to size.

While Chait thinks the Trump administration will follow the usual Republican pattern of failing to enforce regulatory laws like Dodd-Frank, Chait thinks it is unlikely to be repealed and therefore will remain on the books to be enforced by a future Democratic president.

Chait reminds us of almost everything we have already forgotten about Obama and the economy: that Republicans began Obamas administration by opposing any stimulus, pretending that all of Franklin Roosevelts early efforts to end the Great Depression had been failures; that even mainstream publications like the Washington Post described a proposed $800bn stimulus as staggering; that nearly all news outlets were obsessed with the danger of federal deficits instead of the pressing problem of huge unemployment created by the 2008 financial crisis.

Initiatives now recognized as great successes, like the rescue of the auto industry, were portrayed by rightwing analysts like Andrew Grossman of the Heritage Foundation as a microcosm of the lawlessness that threatens our freedom and our prosperity. Even Obama appointees like financier Steve Rattner, who led the successful effort to restructure the auto industry, warned the president that the odds that it would succeed were only 51%.

The leader of all America

Chait also recalls the extreme and relentless racial attacks on Obama by Republicans like Newt Gingrich, who said: What if [Obama] is so outside our comprehension, that only if you understand Kenyan, anti-colonial behavior, can you begin to piece together [his actions]?

Chait counters such offensive nonsense, writing that rather than treating the civil rights movement as a thing apart, Obama placed it at Americas historical center, weaving black Americas story and the larger American narrative into an inseparable fabric. In his speech in Selma in 2015, Obama said: We are Lewis and Clark and Sacajawea Were the slaves who built the White House and the economy of the South. Were the ranch hands and cowboys who opened the West.

Obama: Selma helped determine nations destiny

He portrayed the struggle for black freedom as not merely a part of the American story but as its epitome, Chait writes. If he had allowed himself to be cast as a civil rights leader he would have forfeited his ability to be the leader of all America.

By fusing the civil rights story with the American story, he eliminated the contradiction.

Contrasts with the Republican opposition to Obama and what will come after him are of course stark and frequent. Chait argues that in the fight against climate change, for example, the Paris agreement represented a staggering triumph of cooperative diplomacy.

Only in the United States, he continues, does one of the two major parties question the validity of climate science. So, while presidents from Australia to Norway had to hammer out difficult negotiations with industries and fellow politicians to propose emissions targets they could live with, only Obama had to face down an opposition party that denied that dumping unlimited carbon into the atmosphere amounted to a problem.

Chait did some impressive last-minute rewriting after the surprise presidential election result, and he does a fine job of describing the importance of racism to Donald Trumps success. He also believes Hillary Clintons loss reflected the unusual construction of the electoral college Trumps aging supporters were disproportionately clustered in battleground states, allowing him to prevail despite her clear win in the national vote.

If we can survive the next four years of Republican rule, Chait says, Trumps success will ultimately be viewed as a pyrrhic victory for his party and it is Obamas legacy that will prevail.

The triumph of a blustering, cartoonishly dishonest and manifestly anti-intellectual candidate was a forceful display of the [Republican] partys retreat from seriousness, he writes. [Trumps] ideas did not represent the future of the country envisioned by most Americans, and especially not the youngest ones who would have the most to say about that future.

He was a deadly death rattle, a polarizing and even loathed figure At the end of the 21st century, the vision of American pluralism that is taught to American schoolchildren will not be Trumps.

It will be Obamas.

Charles Kaiser is the author of 1968 in America, The Gay Metropolis and The Cost of Courage

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