#the one thing he loves more than doing crime is doing crime that’s technically illegal

[stealthetrees]

Commander Fox owns an annotated copy of the reg manuals bc he likes to show people that no, he’s not breaking the law, see this hi lighted bit right here that called a loophole bitch.

[durzarya]

I want to hear about your Hero Academia trash collection story.

Ohh boy for some context: that entire fix it au was inspired by my city's incredibly stupid new trash collection system

Meaning that the provided trash cans got incredibly small and the fees more than doubled (among other things).

Which is how this was born

Anyways

It starts the same as the show but everyone is a year younger so Izuku has some time with OFA and doesn't have to rush to UA

For some reason All Might has to leave for a time and Izuku is left alone to train after cleaning up the beach

And on one of his morning runs he stumbles upon a man who tries to leave a fridge on the now clean beach

There is no malice in his decision. But renting a truck to bring the fridge to an actual dump site is not cheap. And depositing said fridge also takes money

He doesn't have the money

So it's much easier to drag the fridge two blocks and dump it. Everyone else is doing it? What's one more piece of trash on that mountain

What actually happens is that Izuku carries the fridge to the deposit site he and All Might have gone several times and pays the deposit fee with his own pocket money

He also successfully befriends the whole neighborhood and through vigorous research and selling a lot of stuff to pawn shops he manages to make the place semi clean

This is unfortunately unsustainable

Pawning things and hard work can take you a little farther, but sometimes people are too poor to take out the trash

Enter Shigaraki Tomura

I don't know exactly how but Izuku manages to befriend him

Maybe they stumble into each other while Izuku is running shop to shop looking for some kind of deal, maybe they argue on some obscure forum about All Might, maybe Shigaraki notices that a lot of petty criminals just straight up disappear in one part of the city because some kid needs some people to help his clean up method and he is working with what he can

The point is that they are friends

It's a pretty new thing for both of them

And when Izuku sees Tomura accidentally disintegrate something his first reaction is not mindless terror

Instead he thinks: that could be useful

This is how Shigaraki Tomura, AFOs successor and Midoriya Izuku OFAs ninth user end up collecting and destroying trash without knowing anything about the other's legacy.

And Tomura gets to see Izuku, someone who wants to be a hero, going around helping people left and right. It wouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter, not to him

But

But Izuku holds out his hand to street kids full of dirt and grime. Who look more like a nightmare than human beings

He can ignore everything else but he cannot ignore that. Not when his younger face is staring back at him and practically screaming: This one is actually a hero

He is also technically a villain. No hero work for him thank you very much. Dusting trash is an illegal use of his quirk nothing else (the fact that most heroes wouldn't even consider that a work of a vigilante is conveniently ignored)

He also doesn't really want to get AFOs attention on this but screwing with the system is always great and thanks to those video games he genuinely loves exploiting anything he can

This is how Shigaraki Tomura dumps his evil plan of upsetting the status and quo lands on the table of the small community he has been terrorizing (helping) (here are some back doors in the law on how to make the government actually take care of the garbage)

Things escalate and...

There is no vigilante emerging from the pits of Mustafa

All Might’s protegee doesn’t fight crime and All for One’s doesn’t plan for a Leauge to break society

There is however a new trash collecting regulation that forces the officials to keep the trash prices affrodable for everyone

And villainy is getting lower as it is implemented

--

Anyway that's the short explanation of my trash au. There are more parts one with Bakugou accidentally tutoring a bunch of social outcasts

one with Ochako, Shinso and Iida accidentally making a support network for financially struggling villains which makes Tensei gradually shift from capture hero to rehabilitation

and one with Dabi off all people becoming a semi legal emergency foster parent and helps Hawks out of his gilded cage

-

(Also there is a scene that lives rent free in my head that after either a disaster or a big destructive fight, Stain trying to get his philosophy by preaching to the masses and someone just chunking a shovel and telling him to get to fucking work and help people)

[starrgaziinggg]

DON’T LET ME LOVE YOU | hwang hyunjin

royal au | prince hyunjin x princess reader

PART ZERO -> the prelude (2k words)

directory

You jolt hearing a crunch from behind you, whipping your whole body 180° to see who's walking towards you.

Technically, what you're doing right now is illegal. Trespassing on the Winter Courts lands as a member of the Summer Court - let alone a royal one, is forbidden. Strictly. God, if your father knew you were here he'd be enraged. You'd only seen your father angry a handful of times, but when he'd caught wind of you sneaking out beyond the border...

Seething was an understatement.

Thankfully, it's Hyunjin who emerges from the tree line, his large doe eyes cautious as he walks towards you, in an attempt not to startle you. His dark hair is loose around his chin, a contrast to how it's usually tied up. He'd let it grow long recently, despite his fathers strict instructions to cut it.

As the tall man sits beside you on the grassy hill that overlooks his kingdom, you can see the scar above his ear when his father had ordered a servant to cut it in his sleep. True to their image, the King of the Winter Court was a cruel and brutal man - the complete contrast to his only son.

"Hey," the man beside you says gently, giving your foot a nudge with his own. You turn to give him a small smile, looking back out at his kingdom with a sigh. Tomorrow, he'd be leaving for six months to train with the army. It was a duty all male Winter Court citizens had to fulfil, and this declaration of the King apparently extended to his own son.

"I don't get it," you huff, fully turning to face the man to your side. You take a second to look at him properly for the first time, the gentle breeze sifting through his hair. You weren't cold here, since your secret spot was just beyond the border of the Summer court, but the air was cooler than that of your own kingdom, noticeably so. His face looks sullen, almost sad - a stark contrast to his usually pleasant smile when he's around you,

"What don't you get?" Hyunjin questions, making himself comfortable on the grassy hill and slinging off his sword sheath. He was a prince through and through, his beautiful, strong, masculine features making your heart spin just as it did the first time you'd met outwith your Kingdom's duties.

When he'd caught you here on his land the first time, you thought he might kill you. The feud between the Winter and Summer Courts was long standing, and although at bay right now, could change with the drop of a pin.

Trespassing was strictly forbidden without good reason. And your reason was utter shit. Apparently, 'I'm bored of being confined to the palace walls' is not a good enough excuse for breaking a treaty.

But Hyunjin didn't kill you. He sat with you, and talked until you were certain your own father would have your head if you'd stayed out any later. You'd gone back to the grassy hill beyond the border almost every week since, slipping out after nightfall to talk to your new found friend.

"It's bullshit," you say with certainty, rolling your eyes when he smiles at you. "You've been training since you could crawl. You're probably more skilled than 90% of the men in your army, yet you need to go off and train with them for six months?"

"Probably more like 99.9%," Hyunjin says cockily, laughing out loud when you attempt to push him over. He's much stronger than you, staying rigid as he tilts his head at you. "I know, darling, I know. I wish I didn't need to do it either."

If trespassing was a crime punishable by death, what would your father say if you told him you'd fallen in love with his mortal enemy's son?

Not good things, you could imagine.

You huff, kicking at the flowers in front of you. Hyunjin places a hand on your leg, halting your actions. You look over at him with a scowl.

"The flowers didn't do anything to you, darling," he says wisely, which only makes your heart break more. He was too kind for his own good, yet one of the strongest soldiers of the Winter Court. You'd been more than surprised to find out how caring and gentle the man who was supposed to be some ruthless killer was.

"The flowers get to exist here in peace, and that's enough for me," you say ominously, folding your arms across your chest. You feel a hand go towards your cheek, moving some hair that had flown into your face from the wind behind your ear. You turn, leaning into Hyunjin's palm and resting there.

"I have something for you," he says after a while, taking his palm away from your cheek and pulling something out of his back pocket. He hands it to you - a painting of tulips; your Courts symbolic flower.

"It's beautiful, Hyunjin," you say honestly, inspecting his work. You'd grown a collection of small paintings he'd given you over the months - little reminders that your relationship, whatever it was, was real outwith this bubble you'd created.

"It'll be the last one for a while," he reminds you sadly, taking your hand in his and pulling you closer to him. You allow it, feeling the hardness of his chest behind you and his breath against your ear.

"I don't want you to go," you whisper quietly, feeling him place a gentle kiss against your temple.

"I know, darling," he whispers back, wrapping his arms around your torso and leaning his chin against your shoulder.

"Who am I going to talk to?" You whine, thinking about the nights you'll be spending cooped up in your room instead of talking with Hyunjin for the next six months. He chuckles at this, the sound deep against your shoulder.

"Jeongin will take good care of you, won't he?" Hyunjin says, no distaste to his tone. He knows Jeongin is your best friend - your right hand man, just as Minho is his. You'd grown up with Jeongin, the boy becoming your rock throughout the hardships that came with being the Summer Court's golden princess.

"Jeongin hates you," you point out, which makes Hyunjin shake his head with a laugh. It was true to a certain extent - Jeongin was not overly keen on Hyunjin, but you boiled that down to the fact he didn't know him like you did. He'd only seen the icy cold demeanour of the Winter prince at special events.

"Yeah, well, if you'd let me meet him -"

"You've already met him," you cut Hyunjin off, turning slightly to look into his eyes from behind you. He makes a face at you, dropping his eternally calm demeanour and making you giggle.

"You know what I mean. I've never met him properly, not after this started. If I met Jeongin, you could meet Minho, and then maybe he would stop being such a dickhead about you," Hyunjin raises his eyebrows as he talks, trying to put forward a valid point.

"Minho hates me just as much as Jeongin hates you," you say lazily. "I don't think that will be changing anytime soon."

"But it could," Hyunjin speaks up, turning your body so that you're straddling his lap. He places his large hands on your sides, squeezing gently. "If you'd only let me meet Jeongin, I'm sure I could get him on my good side."

"You could get a street lamp on your side if you tried hard enough," you point out with a smirk. "You have countless maidens who are desperate to wed you."

You add in that last part as a joke, but you know there's truth in it. Part of you hates the fact that you know, deep down, you and Hyunjin will never be able to take things further than your bubble. Your older brother will take over your kingdom, and Hyunjin will take over his, and the two will continue to be sworn enemies. There was no place in Hyunjin's life for you outside this - secret meetings and stolen kisses.

"And yet I choose you," he says lowly, looking between your eyes intently. You allow him to indulge himself, letting him press his lips against yours slowly. You know it's wrong, you know it's forbidden - but the only feelings you have towards the man in front of you are feelings of warmth. Who knew the ice prince would be the key to your happiness?

You move against his lips slowly, letting him lead the kiss. He never takes things further than this as much as you know he wants to. You can feel how hard he is right now, but he'd told you time and time again, 'Not here. Not like this.'

And you appreciated that. It wasn't as though either of you hadn't been with other people, you just knew as soon as you took that step, things would get complicated. Feelings would grow deeper, problems would arise. For now, you were contempt with the small part of Hyunjin you could have to yourself.

He pulls away after a couple minutes, breathless, placing his forehead gently against yours. He pulls you impossibly closer to him and you let your head fall gently to his shoulder, resting in his embrace.

"I'm gonna miss you," you say, because it's true. He gives you a gentle squeeze.

"I'll miss you too, my darling," he replies, and your heart flutters at the words. His darling.

You let yourself sit like that for hours. For as long as you know you can without a maid or servant or your brother or father noticing your disappearance. Until you feel yourself drifting off, Hyunjin's large palm rubbing circles into your back.

He wakes you when he knows he should, giving himself an extra five minutes with you, because he knows he will miss you so dreadfully when he leaves for his six months of training. He's already given Minho, who finished his training last year, strict instructions on which notes to deliver to you and when. Because he'll be damned if he'd ever leave you in the dark whilst he was busy.

It was scary how much you were beginning to mean to him. It terrified him, yet he welcomed the feeling so long as he got to spend even an hour in your presence. When you make grabby hands at him, insisting he carry you through the forest, he doesn't complain. He lets you cling to him like a bear, lets you hug him for however long you want before he kisses you gently one last time before turning on his heel and disappearing back into the woods.

You pray to the ancients as you walk back stealthily to the castle, walking into your room to find Jeongin giving you the evils for making him worry for being away for so long. You pray that he comes back in six months safe.

You pray that somehow, things will work out between you two. You pray that you'll always have your prince.

PART ONE HERE

[bibliophilicstranger]

Imagine an AU where Lily dies but James lives. Snape will be a dead man once James learns he technically was responsible for leaving him a widow and Harry without a mother

Snape is dead and James killed him, but there's no court in the land that will convict him for it, not when he used the Wizengamot as his murder weapon.

Sirius had wanted to do it himself. James had to physically and then magically restrain Sirius, who'd simply wanted to hunt Snape down and AK him, even if it was in the middle of Diagon Alley. Oh it was tempting but it would do Harry no good to have his father and godfather in Azkaban. Lily would have returned from the grave to kill them both.

No, it had been better to do it legally. To drag him before the Wizengamot, lay out his crimes (and oh, had they rooted into his life to find plenty, from illegal potions to specific acts committed as a Death Eater, before and after he'd turned to Dumbledore), and then deliver a carefully crafted plea for conviction as a man who'd lost his wife.

Even Dumbledore couldn't save him. Nothing he could say about Snape's past or reform could overcome his betrayal of a man who'd saved his life and a woman who'd done nothing more to him than try to be his friend before he'd repudiated all she was. Nothing fixed that he'd contributed to leaving the savior of their world motherless. Even the 'reformed' death eaters had to convict, the evidence was so strong.

(Dumbledore had tried to claim Snape loved Lily, that he'd actually tried to save her, but when it came out that he'd thrown James and Harry under the Knight Bus in exchange, that hadn't helped his case a whit.)

They sentenced Snape to the Veil. It had taken work to get that proposed by a seemingly neutral party. Even Bellatrix had gotten only life in Azkaban and she was as unrepentant as they came. But James and Sirius had wanted a more permanent solution. Death by the Veil was an ancient punishment, but one still on the books. The sentencing vote was narrower, teeth-grindingly narrow, but the Veil won.

James and Sirius are there for the execution, standing shoulder to shoulder. Sirius' expression is as black as his name; James' is no lighter. He doesn't regret saving Snape's life-not when Moony's would have been forfeit otherwise- but there are times he struggles to remember that. The what-ifs pull him under sometimes: what if he'd let Snape die, what if he'd never trusted Peter, never befriended Peter? Sometimes all he can do is lock himself away and sob, until the thought that Harry needs him drags him out again.

Snape's face twists into a snarl when he sees them, anger breaking through the dementor-heightened fear. His last words are insults but they slide off James without effect when Snape is forced through the Veil.

Dumbledore too is there, a disappointed, grandfatherly look on his face, but James can't bring himself to care. This doesn't feel sweet but it is a victory. The world feels a little safer with one fewer Death Eater in it, and James wants his son to be safe more than he wants anything else, including having Lily back. Harry is safe with Aunt Minnie right now, having a sleepover.

"I've got every type of alcohol there is, magical or muggle, back in the house," Sirius wraps an arm around James' shoulders. "Let's go get wasted."

"Yeah, alright," James agrees. Oblivion, if only for a few hours, beckons.

Tonight they'll get drunk and mourn.

Tomorrow they'll get Harry and go see Lily, lay flowers on her grave and catch her up on things.

And maybe the day after that James will figure out how to make the emptiness in his heart stop aching so much he thinks it will consume him alive. Maybe.

[steppingstonesuniverseguide]

Deleted Scene from One Step At a Time Ch 36: The Curator

I'm going to be posting a One Step At a Time entry soonish and I'm deleting a bunch of things because it got very *silly* and kind of interfered with the whole *vibe* of the chapter. That being said, I do love the silly, so enjoy an exclusive Ch 36.0 from One Step At a Time.

(Also Techno does say a thing that's might come off as way too rude, but, like, Wilbur doesn't mind. He watched his dad mourn him for years. He knows he's wanted and both he and Techno are 100% aware of this.)

“We are we going?” Tommy asked for the 5th time in as many minutes. This trip was always too long even without a Tommy in the car.

"We already told you,” Wilbur said, sounding grumpy. (Probably because he’d been demoted to backseat. Usually, they’d make Phil sit in the back during civilian outings in revenge for all of the years they had to allow him to drive, but Tubbo was also sitting in the back seat and putting Phil back there seemed like a poor decision.) “We’re going to the library.”

“We are not going to the library,” Tommy said. “All three of you brought your costumes and you brought us masks.” He reached forward to poke Phil. “Phil where are we going.”

"We’re going to the library, mate,” Phil said with more patience than the child deserved today. “It’s just a special library.”

“Is it a crime library?”

“It’s a…” Phil said.

“Yes. It’s a crime library,” Wilbur cut in.

“Technically, it does house books considered illegal in current society,” Phil said.

“Like Animal Farm and The Lorax,” Techno contributed.

“What is a Lorax?” Tommy asked.

“We’ll check it out for you,” Techno said.

“Will you read it to me?”

“I promise you can read The Lorax yourself well enough at this point, but I will read Animal Farm to you if you’d like.”

“Anti-government bedtime story with Techno hour is starting up again.”

“Eventually we’ll get to The Communist Manifesto and What is Property?”

“God please, I don’t want to hear any more about 1800s relationship drama between Marx and Proudhon. This is all your fault.” Techno didn’t see it since he was driving but considering that Tommy make a squeaking sound and having sat in the backseat with Wilbur himself plenty times, he assumed Tommy had just been elbowed in the ribs.

He then heard various slapping sounds.

“Boys, please stop fighting,” Phil said.

“He started it,” Wilbur claimed which was not exactly true, but also Tommy had been being annoying for the entire car trip.

“I didn’t start shit. I just asked a normal fucking question about where we were going.”

“You-”

“Tubbo is sitting in the front on the way back,” Techno said just to Phil. “There is no other option at this point. We have to have an adult sit between them.”

“I’m older than you!” Wilbur declared, too close to Techno’s ear. Luckily, they were at a stoplight and Techno could reach back blindly to shove his head back into the backseat where it belonged.

“Phil,” Techno said. “explain to me again why you made him.”

“Tech-”

“Oh, that’s right,” Techno said, glancing into the backseat. “You were an accident.”

“Unlike you,” Wilbur said, “who he consciously decided to adopt as his itty bitty baby child.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!”

“Boys do I need to turn this car around?”

“How?” Techno and Wilbur said as one.

“This is why we don’t go on road trips anymore,” Phil sighed.

“Yes,” Techno said.

“Exactly,” Wilbur agreed.

“Also, he almost drove us off the Grand Canyon.”

“That too.”

Phil just rolled his eyes and turned to look out of the window.

“Okay, but are we almost there yet,” Tommy asked.

Wilbur groaned. “You’re such a child.”

“I’ve never been on a car ride this long,” Tommy complained. Which… now that Techno thought about it was a good point. They probably should have thought of that before putting him in the car.

“Tubbo’s fine.”

“Tubbo’s been asleep for an hour.”

“We’re almost there,” Techno said. “10 minutes.” Well, it was about 10 minutes to the entrance of the library, but he thought Tommy would probably be entranced by that.

[clyde49]

I've been writing Space Ghost fanfiction. If you don't want to leave Tumblr the fic is under the read more

“You know some days I wish we were just boring lesbians.”

Moltar was reeling after what he considered another epic battle with his nemesis Space Ghost. They saw each other by random chance in the parking lot of this, kinda dive buffet restaurant on the edge of town and Space Ghost had chased Moltar to an empty parking lot a few blocks down. They battled each other for a bit before once again they both got tuckered out and just crashed on the sidewalk. Space Ghost typically said some sort of weird shit afterwards but “boring lesbians” was a new one.

“What?”

Space Ghost just laid on his back looking up before gesturing his head to look at his adversary as much as he could without sitting up. He wasn't as scuffed up after the fight as Moltar wanted but he rarely was.

“Like, some days I wish we could both be mundane women who love each other and sit around watching movies or whatever lesbians do. Instead of just doing this every time we see each other outside of work. Like don't get me wrong I love combat to the death until we both get tired, but like. In another life we are probably both just people who love each other instead of freaks that beat each other up.”

“If we were boring lesbians we'd both wish we were aliens freaks beating eachother up.”

There was a moment of silence before Space Ghost responded.

“You think so?”

“Trust me. I've talked to enough lesbians, most of them I've met want to be kaijus.”

Moltar let it bubble in his head that none of his problems would really go away if he was a human woman. if anything he'd have more problems. He'd still worry about his family hating him and social awkwardness and his job. He just knows he'd get in more trouble when he sets shit on fire. Supervillains always get more mileage out of crime than normal people.

“It's a “grass is always greener” thing, Ghost. Plus I don't think there's anything lesbians can do that we can't.”

Moltar looked back at where Space Ghost was only to see that he was starting to stand back up.

“That's true, but It would be nice to just hang out for once. Watch a movie or play a board game or something.”

“We can hang out, I'm busy tomorrow but-”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

Moltar processed if Space Ghost was just really curious about his schedule or accusing him of planning something illegal. Regardless, the shithead was walking towards him.

“Me and the boys were going to the arcade. They got this new fish game we are all excited to try.”

“Could I come with you?”

“Dude it's going to be like, Zorak and Metallus.”

“I know them.”

Moltar let out a heavy sigh as the disaster of how bringing Space Ghost as a one plus would go formed in his imagination. Zorak was more than enough to worry about. Moltar knew if he brought both the bug and the ghost to the arcade with him that the “Fishmaster XD: Fish of Darkness” machine wouldn't make it long enough for anyone to enjoy the new game.

“They don't like you. Technically, I don't even like you. If anything I hate you more than I hate most people.“

Space Ghost was hovering over Moltar at that point and Moltar could tell by the sad sack look on his face he was debating between helping him up, kicking him while he was down or just leaving.

“Would you like me if I was normal?”

Moltar laughed at that one.

“I wouldn't even look at you if you were normal.”

The Ghosts expression softened.

“Well I'm glad I'm Space Ghost then.”

Space Ghost offered Moltar a hand and Moltar graciously took the support as he stood back up himself.

For a while they just stood there together, looking at each other. Space Ghost always had this faint, almost glow to him. Moltar didn't have an exact word for it, but it was like he had VHS warmth filtered over his personal aura. Moltar knew himself to also be glowing and warm on the inside, underneath his hazard suit, but most people wouldn't know that. The Ghost would, but most people wouldn't. Space Ghost broke the silence after a long moment.

“How often do we do this?”

“Huh?”

“Our whole “fighting randomly in public” thing?”

“I think this is the fifth time in three months.”

Space Ghost seemed to look over at nothing before looking back at Moltar.

“Hey Moltar, did you eat dinner before we started this? because I didn't and I'm still hungry. If anything I'm hungrier now. How about you?”

Moltar would never admit it but he was really glad Space Ghost asked.

“yeah sorry about that, I haven't eaten yet either. I just saw ya and.”

“You threw a fireball at me and yelled a lot so I started chasing you, and we both know the rest.”

“Yeah”

“Yeah”

Space Ghost started doing that dumb little smile he always did when a thought somehow snuck into his brain without shriveling up on the way in and had been flourishing for a bit in his empty skull.

“You know Moltar, if you're still hungry, I'll buy for us both. if you would want to share a table with me”

Moltar would never admit this either, but even after everything, he felt giddy about the idea of dinner with Space Ghost.

“Eh, why not, as long as you're buying.”

“I have more than enough cash for two all-you-can-eat meals and a good tip. Plus I've got some ones if you want to try their crane machine game.”

“I've tried it, it kinda sucks but I'll gladly waste your money on it anyway.”

They both looked around the empty parking lot they found themselves in.

“Ok, what direction was the restaurant again?”

Moltar hummed to himself a bit.

“I have no idea.”

[robocop1906]

We are now living in a time where the village idiot is looked upon as the savior of our country. He's going to save the squirrels from the Liberal Animal Cops who will kick your door down to gain entry in order to assasinate your pet squirrel! Never mind that he has a problem with technical difficulties when it comes to a microphone and has to mime in a fellacious manner. His millions of followers think he's just a regular guy and it's alright to make fun of disabled people and mention to them that it would be Ok if bullets hit the Fake News instead of him. We are now in an alternate universe of thinking. All of this isn't making America Great. It's making America open to Russian Invasion.

#1. Is this a question or just your opinion?

#2. Unfortunately I also agree..we do seem to be living in a time where village idiots have much to large a platform. I believe I may differ as to we class a the village idots.

#3. The squirrel issue is just an illustration of a much larger problem. A State government that has issues with a squirrel kept as a pet( I do agree the guy should have gone through proper established regulatory channels to keep the animals) but not millions of illegal aliens committing crimes within its boundaries is my problem and if they overreact to a squirrel what's next???

#4. He who? Are your referencing President Trump?

- if so

a. I agree the imitation of the reporter was I'm very bad taste; he shouldn't have done that.

b. I would agree- I would rather a bullet hit anyone other than me or anyone I cared about...kinda feel that's a gimme there.

c. I am not familiar with the microphone reference so I can't comment on that one, sorry.

#5. I agree again; we are in an alternative universe of thinking. Again we may differ on the thought process. But I see things that used to commonly be looked down upon openly embraced, long standing values cast aside, love of country scorned, value of life disregard and yes , in my belief system, evil embraced as godliness...oh and tearing down statues is going to make whose life better????

#6. I fail to see how any of this would make America more vulnerable to invasion by a foreign country..... other than from my views where beta males and keyboard warriors who lack the internal fortitude and YES in some cases the actual BALLS...cause you may have heard it's almost stylish these days to have them cut off and sewn on your chest as tits.... where was I ..oh yeah- they lack the BALLS to stand up for their country, community, family and faith to risk their own lives. Maybe if we trusted adherence to some of our founding principles we could become better. Oh, and before some snippy latte drinking retard chides in saying something about racism and slavery were founding principles-- not everything from our history is/was prefect-- but if we tear down those trace reminders, fail to teach it , fail to be able to have civil discussions about them and by all means-- Learn from it so as to never repeat them -- we will be doomed to .

But that's just my old cynical Gene-X reading into what may have been a poorly formed question. And while I may agree Trump, if that is who you are referring to, since I don't think Biden even knows what a squirrel is these days and I believe Waltz would probably shit himself if he saw.one if real life, isn't a perfect man I do believe he actually loves this country, wants the best for it and is the best choice of what we have been given to choose from.

[studyinspectrum]

A Case of Identity, by Arthur Conan Doyle, published 1891, later collected in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

there's a common characterization that comes with Holmes that he can solve anything instantly and make his deductions without ever seeing the spot a crime or incident occurred. He's depicted as a man with a super intellect with a database for a brain that can compute literally anything under the sun. which. fine. i guess.

A Case of Identity is one of those stories that i think leads to that characterization. The entirety of the case is solved while inside the flat of 221b. All clues and people necessary to the case are delivered or become present in 221b so Holmes and Watson never have to do any ground work. which is also fine! but it's more fine when there's no connotation of this being attached to cold super genius in it's original publication. Holmes is cocky but not toward people that don't deserve it.

anyway, A Case of Identity is a really unique and strong case within the canon in my opinion. i think it's exemplary of showing the breath of Holmes' detective skills. he still does a fair amount of detective work and still gets to do a flashy little show off move at the end. it's a great story and one i do recommend you read yourself. The content warnings for A Case of Identity are as follows incest if you look hard, but it's mostly something as a means of deception rather than actual incest

a short summary

a wealthy young woman named Miss Mary Sutherland comes to Holmes with her problem: her fiance Hosmer Angel has disappeared and basically left her at the altar. she admittedly didn't know much about Hosmer before he asked her to marry him, he was apparently an intensely private person. Hosmer would only send Mary typewritten letters without a signature (Holmes is shown a few of them), would prefer his letters to be addressed to the post office so he could pick them up himself, and would only ever visit when Mary's disapproving and overbearing step father was out of town. Mary is truly in love with this man and she wants to know where he is, even if she can never marry him.

by the time Mary leaves, Holmes starts to have a pretty good idea of who Hosmer Angel was, and maybe you do too after reading that short paragraph.

Holmes sends out his own letter to call someone in, Mary's stepfather, James Windibank. he begins to apologize for his stepdaughter's actions but Holmes interrupts him. Holmes says that just like someone's handwriting, a even a machine like a typewriter has certain quirks that identifies it as belonging to certain people. Holmes can tell that the typewriter that Hosmer used to send his letters is exactly the same that Windibank used to respond to Holmes' summons to 221b. Holmes calls him out on this, and Windibank admits to it since his step daughter's marriage means a loss of income to himself so he came up with a plot to make his daughter devoted to a man that didn't exist and then leave. However, Windibank points out that what he did wasn't technically illegal, so Holmes responds with one of my favorite things he's ever said in canon:

"The law cannot, as you say, touch you,” said Holmes, unlocking and throwing open the door, “yet there never was a man who deserved punishment more. If the young lady has a brother or a friend, he ought to lay a whip across your shoulders. By Jove!” he continued, flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon the man’s face, “it is not part of my duties to my client, but here’s a hunting crop handy, and I think I shall just treat myself to—” He took two swift steps to the whip, but before he could grasp it there was a wild clatter of steps upon the stairs, the heavy hall door banged, and from the window we could see Mr. James Windibank running at the top of his speed down the road.

unfortunately, Windibank's plot worked and Mary is committed to Hosmer, even if he doesn't exist and Holmes elects not to tell Mary the truth. it would cause Mary more trouble than it's worth to know Windibank did all that, especially since she still trusts her step father. thankfully Windibank is unlikely to try such a thing ever again now that Holmes knows about him.

the analysis

i think Holmes should threaten to hit people more. end of analysis.

but actually i really like this story, it's yet another incident of "no crime committed" (hm i should probably do a review of a canon story soon where a crime actually happens…), but it's so borderline to that that it's easy to ignore that. i think it's an exemplary story in displaying Holmes' compassion that he threatened to beat a man and where not telling his client the truth is probably the better option. as i stated in the intro, a lot of stories would make Holmes smug and cold and not do any of that.

the hinge point of the clue relies on the typewriter of Windibank used to masquerade his letters to Mary. a lot of the clues point to Hosmer just being a character, with no identifiable clues to his identity. the typewriter is the only thing that has any "personality" that Holmes can analyze himself.

digital typing has effectively removed this typewriter clue from ever existing in the modern day, but it does make me think about the voice i write with in my own text that would make even anonymous letters from myself be able to be tracked to me. if i were being casual about it, i think it's obvious that i hate capital letters, i like to use very specific/explicit words, i use periods as if trying to translate speaking pauses, etc. very… homestuck typing quirks i think.

but also in the age of AI writing, how can a digital "voice" become identifiable? most people my age have been on the internet since the advent of web 2.0, if not the tail end of web 1.0, and that has come with a lot of passive absorption of language that exist in semi-permanent sections of the internet that can be referenced later (forums, user created webpages). internet sub-communities all have their own dialect, much like the places people live and the the groups of friends they have inform the language that they use. how easy would it be able to identify the places i have physically lived in, internet eras i've lived through, the people i've been connected with, just by the way i type on the internet? will cohost develop a similar kind of sub-community dialect?

something very interesting to ponder, i think.

adaptions, aka i finally have a story where i can talk about the puppet show

i have been dying to talk about this fucking puppet show but i haven't been able to watch any episodes myself because the one place i can watch it without purchasing a japanese DVD is on a geo-locked website and it's driving me mad. i don't know if you know this about me, but i fucking love puppets and dolls so this show is so enchanting to me, even if everything about the design is so weird.

anyway, this puppet show is called Sherlock Holmes or Puppet Entertainment Sherlock Holmes, it's a 2014 TV series written by Kōki Mitani and produced and broadcasted by NHK.

here's a video showing some of the behind the scenes work on the show so you can at least see how some of the puppets work in motion and how they've built the sets. i think it's so interesting and inspiring. one of my projects for this year was to try to make some puppets (unrelated to knowing about this show, i've known about the puppet show since like 2019), but i'm currently working on some commission work so i haven't been able to make them. once it's done though, it's puppet time.

in the show, Holmes and Watson are students at a fictional London boarding school called Beeton School. there are no murders and a lot of original characters, but the stories are loose adaptations or reinterpretations of the stories to fit the stories. this show adapted A Case of Identity where most of the story is kept the same, save for Windibank being Mary's childhood friend, and Mary has the truth revealed to her leaving her heartbroken.

oh i guess BBC Sherlock also does a thing with this case in the Empty Hearse where Holmes gets Molly to help him out with cases for a bit but i can't remember and i don't like considering the show for longer than i have to.

[foggyfanfic]

Love and Fury

Chapter Preview: Leandra smirked at Bruno, “You know what, because it’s you, I’ll make it something easy.”

“Oh?”

“Tell me what my first name is.”

“Oh.”

CH 1 Prev Next Master List

Chapter 19 Detective Bruno

He was going to figure this out. He had to. Bruno was in way too deep to admit to his familia that he had no clue what was happening.

Well, he did have some clue what was happening. Rosalie had rejected Cicero and he had responded by doing something bad, maybe something that had caused her to be raped. Cicero had then offered to marry Rosalie and she rejected him again, at which point he started attacking other women.

In conclusion, Cicero was probably going to burn in hell.

He didn’t mean to judge, it was just, Bruno had been rejected a ton of times in his life. He’d never done anything so bad it led to a woman being raped. People had a right to reject him. They had a right to reject anyone. That was how life worked.

He worked on his list of potential crimes the day after Reina’s date with the creep. 

Rape was illegal, and there was no way any moral person could downplay its terribleness, but Encanto didn’t have any laws against being the cause of rape. Bruno could even see how some people would try to argue it’s not technically Cicero’s fault.

So that was probably what made Cicero a danger to the village. His actions somehow made his victims more vulnerable.

That eliminated half of the things on Bruno’s list. Spying on a woman while she was getting changed was wrong, but didn’t make her anymore vulnerable than she had been before. Same with groping women through their clothes.

Now, telling the wrong person delicate information about somebody might do the trick.

Bruno could see Cicero going down to the cantina and loudly complaining about girls who had rejected him to his many friends. Get the right guy all riled up and… voila, you have a hate crime. Then once you know what it takes, you could do it again and again.

He sighed, scratching his head with the pencil.

Leandra, who was thoroughly enjoying the pastries he’d brought to make up for her terrible day, looked at his list then rolled her eyes, “Bruno, I’m begging you, just talk to Pepa.”

“Now? After all this time?” Bruno shook his head, “Nuh-uh, she’ll have so many questions, the first of which will be why I didn’t ask sooner.”

“Well, it is a valid question,” she grumbled.

“I am very, very sorry I assumed you were evil,” Bruno told her, and he meant it, “I was wrong. You are one of the kindest, most noble people I have ever met, and I know now that you would never intentionally harm an innocent person. I promise, the next time you do something that looks bad, I’ll ask you why. Or, well, I’ll assume you did it without thinking, but I won’t think you did it maliciously!”

She smiled softly at him, “Thank you Bruno, I forgive you. Of course I do.”

“Great,” he nodded, “soooooooo?”

Leandra laughed even as she rolled her eyes again, she shook her head, “Alright. One clue, I will give you one clue, if! If you… agree to come swimming with me on Saturday.”

“I-I can do that,” he stuttered, blushing at his lap.

“You’re overthinking it,” she said.

“What?”

“You’re overthinking it,” she repeated with a shrug, “this whole thing is way less complicated than you think it is.”

“Oh,” he frowned down at his paper. He’s overthinking it. Simple, think simple.

He scribbled out the potential crimes and wrote down his clues again, adding “not complicated” to the list. Leandra glanced over the list and pressed her lips together.

“What?”

“You are such a sweet man,” Leandra told him. She had been wondering why he hadn’t already figured it out, but now that she saw “can be downplayed” on his list of clues she kind of got it. In Bruno’s mind, rape was undeniably bad, no pretending otherwise, end of story.

“What? Sweet?” he looked down at his list, trying to figure it out, “How am I sweet?”

“If I tell you, that would be another clue.”

“Well- alright, b-but couldn’t you tell me anyways? I… I can- name your price.”

Leandra smirked at him, “You know what, because it’s you, I’ll make it something easy.”

“Oh?”

“Tell me what my first name is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed at his arm, mouth opening and closing before he finally tried, “Reina?”

Leandra giggled, shaking her head, “Try again.”

“J-Juanita?”

“No.”

“...Fernanda?”

“Colder.”

“Colder? I-in what way?”

“The first letter of my name is closer to ‘J’ than it is to ‘F’.”

“Oh, ok… Martina?”

She sang a part of the alphabet while counting letters on her fingers, “Warmer.”

“Hm, Olivia?”

“Colder.”

“So… the first letter of your name is between ‘J’ and ‘M’?” he asked, then when she nodded, thoughtfully mumbled, “‘L’ would be the most likely, wouldn’t it? I can’t think of many names that start with ‘K’.”

“You’re burning hot,” she said.

“Lola?”

“Lola?” she repeated, with a frown, “Do I look like a Lola to you?”

“W-well I don’t know, what does a Lola look like?”

“Not like me.”

“That seems a bit subjective,” he muttered, “Liliana?”

“Better, but no.”

“Luz? How about Lucianna? Lucia?”

“No, no, and no.”

Bruno wracked his brain for more “L” names and ended up quietly listing random words that started with the letter. Reina almost fell out of her chair laughing when he looked at her dog, looked at her, and in a desperate sort of voice, guessed, “L-Leche?”

“N-no,” she took a minute, bent over double, “w-why would me and Leche have the same name?”

“Maybe he’s named after you,” Bruno shrugged.

“He is not,” she giggled a little bit longer, “do you give up yet?”

“Do I still get the clue if I give up?”

“Of course not. And I won’t tell you what my name is.”

“Then no,” he idly scratched at the stubble on his chin as he thought, “How many letters does it have?”

“Uh, seven. Why? Does that help?”

“Not even a little bit,” he shook his head, “Uuuuuh, let’s see.”

They sat in silence for a long time as Bruno cast about for names, any time he remembered another name beginning with “L” he would count it off on his fingers, then frown and shake his head.

“Bruno,” she eventually interrupted his process, “I have an idea, it’s a little bit crazy, but I think if you give it a shot you might find it very helpful.”

“What?”

“How about you just ask?”

Bruno frowned, “No, no, I can figure this out.”

“Ay dios Bruno.”

He spent a little bit longer counting on, then scowling at, his fingers. Eventually his shoulders drooped and he heaved a big sigh, much like the ones Leche sometimes heaved when his dinner was a few minutes late.

“Reina?”

“Si?”

“Say I did ask…? Would I still get the clue?”

“You’d get the clue and I’d tell you my name.”

“Hm.”

“Really, if you think about it, communication could fix so many of your problems.”

“Humph,” he crossed his arms and scowled at the wooden counter in front of him. After a few beats he recounted the letters in every L name he could think of, just in case.

Reina started giggling, he didn’t have to ask why. He was being ridiculous and he knew it.

Bruno sighed again, hanging his head.

“Reina?”

“Gua- sorry. Sí?”

“What’s your first name?”

There was a pause, “Well, now I’m kind of tempted not to tell you.”

“What?!” he looked so deeply offended that she couldn’t help but break out into another peal of giggles.

“Bien, bien, I’ll tell you,” she smiled benevolently at him, “You ready?”

“Si.”

“You sure?”

“Reina, I swear-.”

“Leandra.”

“What?”

“My name is Leandra, it’s lovely to meet you,” she stuck her hand out for him to shake, and he took it.

“Leandra,” he breathed, slowly shaking her hand, “it’s pretty. A-and it suits you.”

“Gracias.”

Bruno continued to slowly shake her hand for a few more beats, eyes staring straight through her. Mentally, he was reviewing every moment they’d ever spent together and trying to replace the nickname “Reina” with the name “Leandra”. Eventually, he remembered himself and looked down at her hand in his with horror.

“Oh! Perdon, perdon, I-. Th-that was… weird of me. Perdon,” he let go of her hand like it had burned him, shrinking over to his side of the stall, but Rei- Leandra was already waving it off with a gentle smile.

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’m not constantly clinging to you like you’re a teddy bear.”

 He bit his tongue to keep from mentioning how much he liked it when she did that, and gave her a sheepish grin instead. He cast about for something else to say, and remembered why he’d started guessing her name in the first place.

“So uh, w-what does my list of clues have to do with me being sweet?” he asked.

“Oh. Right. Your morals are getting in the way here,” she shrugged, “you’re not going to get it until you put yourself in the shoes of a bad person.”

“A bad person…”

“Uh-huh.”

Bruno folded up the paper and tucked it into his pocket, he closed his eyes and focused, “Bad person, bad person, I am a bad person. I think being poor is a cosmic punishment. I adjust my junk while looking other people in the eye. I-I ask market vendors a million questions, move their stock, and ask for free samples then don’t buy anything.”

She bit her lip and refrained from pointing out that he was merely describing a rude person. He really didn’t have a cruel bone in his body.

Seriously, how was he still single?

No, wait, she knew why. It was probably because he didn’t notice flirting unless it was as obvious as a punch to the face.

Bruno opened his eyes and scowled at the countertop in front of him. Ok, what would a bad person do when they’re rejected?

“He hit her?” he asked, “Wait, no, that’s illegal.”

Leandra smiled at him fondly and shook her head, “Just talk to Pepa.”

“Why don’t you just tell me to jump off a cliff since you’re so intent on my doom,” Bruno gestured dramatically, then he groaned and put his hand over his face, “ugh, why is this so hard?”

“Again, you’re over complicating it,” she reminded him.

He took his list of clues back out and glared at it, waiting for the answer to just jump out at him. It didn’t. He looked at her, maybe she was susceptible to puppy dog eyes, he’d been told his were deadly.

Leandra just crossed her arms.

“Meirda,” he sighed.

She chuckled and shook her head at him again.

“Feeling better?” he asked, setting the list aside for now.

“Much, gracias,” she put a hand on his arm, “and I’m sorry about the way I reacted yesterday. I know that… he’s a spiteful man, i-if he figures out that I’m helping your mother investigate him, it’ll be good to have a friend around.”

Bruno smiled, “Don’t worry about it, I was technically spying on you.That’s uh, that’s kind of not okay.”

“Usually,” she agreed, “but I think in this case, I probably should have asked somebody to tail us. Although, I don’t know if-, I didn’t really want you seeing all that.”

She fiddled with her skirt, watching him from the corner of her eye. The thing with Cicero may have been a giant chess game, but she still didn’t feel comfortable kissing another man in front of Bruno. To be honest, she didn’t feel comfortable kissing another man, period. Having Bruno there just made it especially bad.

They weren’t technically dating, but she knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else, so she sort of felt that she shouldn’t be seeing other people too. At least until she was absolutely positive her feelings were one sided.

Bruno didn’t respond. He thought that she may be trying to protect his feelings when she said she didn’t want him seeing her with Cicero. If Bruno had to string somebody dangerous along in order to lure them into a false sense of security, he wouldn’t have been his first choice for back up either. What was Bruno going to do if Cicero attacked her? Throw sand around?

Félix and Felípe would have been better options. They were both strong, and Leandra was good friends with Felípe, so she could definitely count on the brothers to be there for her. Plus, Felípe had gotten into two separate fist fights protecting Rosalie’s honor in the past year, he’d won both of them.

“Ugh, what a creep,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose.

Bruno nodded, “Apparently. I can’t imagine hurting somebody just because they don’t want to date you.”

“Even worse, it’s because Rosalie didn’t believe him when he said he loved her,” she scowled into the middle distance, “so in order to prove her wrong he…?! Ugh!”

Bruno glanced back down at his list of clues, tapping the pencil thoughtfully against his lips. Cicero was definitely responsible for Rosalie’s rape somehow. Did he… did he drug Rosalie so he could prove how trustworthy he was? To show her that he wouldn’t take advantage of her in her vulnerable state?

It was a simple answer, and something he could see a bad person doing. It was illegal, but not a banish worthy offense, hard to prove, easily repeatable, and would explain why Leandra had panicked at the quinceanera. Plus, people might argue that because he didn’t intend for any long lasting harm to be done, he wasn’t actually responsible for the consequences of his actions.

Then when Rosalie turned him down for marriage he might have moved on and drugged other women to show her that what he did wasn’t that bad. That it didn’t always end in his victim’s life being ruined.

“I think… I think I’ve figured it out,” he said slowly.

“Have you?” He didn’t seem angry enough to have realized that Cicero tried to rape his sister.

“Did he drug Rosalie to try to prove he could be trusted?”

Leandra pressed her lips together and tapped her toes, “You… are on the right track. It’s worse than that.”

“Right, right,” Bruno made a note about Cicero’s spitefulness, “because he’s motivated by his anger.”

She made an affirmative noise.

He tapped the pencil against his lips a few more times, “I… don’t like any of the answers I’m coming up with.”

“Then you’re definitely on the right track,” Leandra said darkly.

He couldn’t be the rapist, right? It… she had said that people might try to argue that Cicero’s crime wasn’t that bad, and there was no denying that rape was an utterly disgusting, heinous crime. Plus, being raped had resulted in Rosalie being kicked out of her home, being shamed by the whole village, being treated like an outcast. How could anyone say that “wasn’t that bad”?

No. No, it couldn’t be rape. Bruno couldn’t believe that anyone would excuse that sort of thing. He knew people could be cruel, boy did he know, but that was a step too far.

He folded the paper back up and put it away. There would be more clues, eventually.

“So, swimming?”

“Sí, since you love throwing yourself in the nearest body of water, I figure we could make a day of it,” she grinned at him, blowing him a kiss when he scowled at her.

“Well maybe if you- I mean why are- If you weren’t constantly hiding next to the river, lying in wait, I would trip less,” he wagged a finger at her, enjoying the way she giggled.

“What can I say,” she curled her hands like claws, “it’s all a part of my evil scheme. Step one, throw food at Pepa. Step two, throw you in the river a few times. Step three, I’ll have to figure out later. Step four, take over the world.”

“Sounds like step three is going to be a real doozy,” he chuckled.

“Oh it is, just you wait,” she nodded, “I would do an evil laugh but I don’t know how. That might be step three actually, figuring out my evil laugh.”

“Oh, that’s easy, just watch,” he held up a finger and fixed his posture so he could use his whole chest for this. Bruno took a deep breath then let out a low gravelly chuckle that slowly built into a deep laugh with the occasional grating cackle mixed in. 

When he was done Leandra applauded him, “That was beautiful. A real work of art.”

“G-Gracias,” he responded, blushing under her praise.

“You should try out for next year's play,” she suggested, “you’re pretty good.”

The old shoemaker had started a community theatre that put on a play once a year for the harvest festival. Auditions had already passed for this year’s play, an adaptation of Hombre Caiman’s story, but there was already debate over what next year’s play would be. Bruno had always thought of trying out, but had never gotten up the nerve.

“Oh, I-I don’t think-, I mean I’m so busy doing, y’know, Seer things, and, and nobody wants to see a play with-. Well, you know, it… I-I doubt they’d give me a starring role, if you catch my drift,” he rubbed at his arm.

Leandra put a hand on his shoulder, “I want to see a play with you as the star, and anyone with an ounce of sense would see that your talent is way more important than your reputation. Hell, I bet once you get going people would forget they’re watching you, I’m sure if you wanted you could be completely invisible behind your character.”

Bruno smiled at her, “N-now you’re being sweet.”

“No, just honest,” she squeezed his shoulder, then took her hand back, turning to greet a pair of teenagers coming by for an afternoon snack.

He stared at her as she spoke to the teens, asking them about school and one of the kids’ apprenticeship. The other was the eldest son in his family, and thus was training under his father to inherit the foundry. Unsurprisingly, Leandra was able to make both kids laugh as she fetched them a wheel to split, and shared a couple of the pastries he’d brought her.

“Although technically, you should thank Bruno for these, he bought them,” she said.

The teens gave each other a look, but ultimately shrugged, turned to him and chorused, “Gracias Señor.”

“Oh, that’s- really it’s- you’re welcome,” Bruno said.

There was a brief pause, the teens staring at him, no doubt sensing blood in the water. He remembered well how cruel kids could be. 

Leandra made the tiniest sound in her throat, pulling attention back to herself, and asked one of the kids how their tia was doing. She listened intently to the answer, better but still ill, and gave the kid a small soap to give to the aunt in question.

Bruno felt tension ease out of his shoulders when the two teenagers walked away.

“They’re just slightly smaller people,” Leandra said, probably trying to reassure him.

“That’s the problem,” he retorted, “they’re people. People don’t like me.”

“Well they should,” she shrugged, “and I continue to believe that they would if they got to know you.”

He snorted, one side of his mouth quirking up, “Maybe.”

“I did,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’re… really nice. A-And you like everybody.”

“No, I’m nice to everybody because I’m an adult who understands that just because I don’t enjoy a person’s company, doesn’t mean I have a right to be rude to them,” Leandra glanced around and dropped her voice, “the truth is I don’t like most people. Not because there’s anything wrong with them, just because I’m kind of judgie like that.”

“W-Wait, really?” he asked, suddenly feeling a bit nervous.

“I mean… I don’t actively dislike many people, I just… don’t enjoy being around most people,” she continued in a quiet voice, “I think a lot of people are boring, or I get annoyed with them for being annoyed by something harmless, even though I get annoyed by harmless things all the time. I’m angry at a lot of people for believing the rumors about Rosalie, despite the fact that I’ve believed plenty of rumors myself. Like I said, this is me being a bit of a hypocrite so I try not to make it anyone else’s problem. I do my best to be polite to everybody, and only accept invitations from people I actually like.”

“Oh,” Bruno turned this new facet of her personality around in his head, it fit neatly with yesterday’s “upset with, but not blaming, me” thing. He figured he must not be one of the people she found boring, since not only had she accepted his invitation to a picnic, she had actively gone out of her way to spend time with him.

“Sometimes I think it’s just because I don’t spend enough time with people to feel comfortable around them,” she was frowning thoughtfully, “I mean, I enjoy Felipe’s company as much as I do Rosalie’s and they are pretty different. Other than the fact that I’ve spent a lot of time with both of them. I don’t… Growing up I only came down from the mountain for school and church, so I don’t know a lot of the villagers that well.”

“I… think I actually know what you mean,” Bruno said slowly.

“Sí?”

He nodded, “I don’t really know a lot of people that well either, and I don’t feel comfortable around… well basically anyone. S-sometimes I get these- these thoughts, and they’re not nice, a-and they actually kind of scare me sometimes, but I just… I just don’t like most people. I don’t trust them.”

She smiled at him gently, “That’s fair.”

“Is it?”

“I think so,” she shrugged, “people haven’t given you a lot of reasons to trust them. Or like them.”

He frowned down at his lap, then laughed sort of bitterly, “Yeah.”

“The important bit is that you’re still kind to people,” she indicated the pocket he’d tucked his list of clues into, “you’ve never done anything like that. Not even close. You still care about helping people and being empathetic. Even when people are being horrible to you. That’s really admirable.”

Bruno didn’t respond, he was simultaneously tempted to start complaining about every mean thing anyone had ever said to him in his entire life, and to try fishing for more compliments. 

Perhaps he should warn her to stop giving him the attention and approval that he so craved, every time she called him admirable, or a good actor, it got harder and harder to be normal about their friendship.

“Anyways, we’ve gotten really serious,” Leandra shook her head and laughed at the both of them, “let’s talk about something more fun. Like um… where do you want to go swimming?”

“How about-,” he hesitated, he’d been about to suggest the pool he’d caught her doing laundry in, but he needed to not say that, it was too intimate, “my cave?”

It took all of his will power to keep from slapping his forehead. That was possibly the only place more intimate than the pond.

Leandra raised an eyebrow, she thought about asking him if inviting her back to his bedroom for scantily clad, wet, fun meant anything, but decided not to push her luck. She didn’t want him rescinding the invitation.

“Sure, sounds like fun.”

“Great,” he said, tightly. The mixture of dread and anticipation he felt was almost interesting enough to distract him from the burning in his cheeks.

“I’ve actually had a dream about swimming in your pool, I think. It was kind of vague, but I was talking to a rat, so I assume.”

Bruno snorted, “That- yeah, that sounds like my pool.”

The conversation moved on to dreams, and how weird they could be. Bruno, thankfully, restrained himself from mentioning how many of his she had appeared in, but told her about the occasional prophetic dreams he had.

When Bruno got home that evening, he thought about talking to Pepa, he really did. But as his mind ticked over all the different possibilities, each more terrible than the last, he began to feel a bit queasy.

For the first time he wondered if he really wanted to know.

[ota-division]

Kira's Thoughts on Katsushika Division

Akihisa Mashiro

"Akihisa Mashiro, the man known far and wide as, "The Reaper". Would you believe me if I told you that I actually met this man whilst I was serving in the army? Even back then, rumors of his killings were the stuff of legend during the war. I have to admit, I never once thought that I'd ever see him again. But imagine my surprise when he was arrested. And get this, apparently, it was orchestrated by none other than General Kōkyū. I caught sight of him once behind bars, but I'm not sure if he even recognized me. I don't think we'd have much to say to each other, at any rate. I never thought I'd see him participating in a rap tournament of all things. Will wonders never cease?"

Touya Kisaragi

"The man known as "The Sweetheart Killer". Although I should have nothing but contempt for this young man, considering his childhood and family history, I feel nothing but sorrow for him. You have to wonder if he would turned out like this if he had been raised by parents that didn't extort or abuse him. It makes me wonder for all children such as him. Hopefully, the mandatory psychiatrist he goes to can heal him, though I know it'll take a long while."

Rintaro Himura

"And last but not least, "The High-Rose Bomber". At first, I could sympathize with this young man. Why? Because my circumstances were a lot like his at one point. I can remember being surrounded by flames in a house and a drunken fool of a father. ...But that is where our similarities end. While I fight to protect my friends and family, he commits arson, loving nothing more than hearing screams of his victims and seeing buildings go alight. I was there when Wataru-san interrogated him. And if it weren't for the fact that it's technically illegal, I would have burst into the confessional and beat his smug face into the ground. People like him make me sick to the core."

Death Row Block

"I've only worked for Chuohku for a couple of years now, but I've long ago stopped trying to understand what it is that makes the Prime Minister tick. I don't fully understand her reasonings for getting three of Japan's worst criminals off of death row, much less, out of prison. She firmly believes that she can control anyone, but she is sorely mistaken. I've tried to explain this, but she wouldn't listen. But if these young men commit any sort of crime, whose job is it to make sure that they don't do it again? I wish she would take those sort of things under consideration."

"I'll say this: if we do face these men, then I personally want to take on the pyromaniac, himself. We'll see if those flames of his will hold out against my shield."

[megashadowdragon]

difference between winter and harriet

youtube comments

Either is poetic or ironic, how Harriet's speech about duty is what awoke a new ability within Ren's Semblance. I like to think that her words triggered his anger because that how used to think and act, and that made him realize how ridiculous that sounded, because feelings is part of one self, and is important to aknowledging it, not surpressing it.

It's unfortunately another reason why Atlas is weaker than most modern militaries. Modern military you can question and refuse orders if they are immoral or illegal.

Technically there's no evidence that that's not the case in Atlas, but I think when Ironwood started acting all nutso people were too scared of him to speak up. I mean, Marrow did and Ironwood was gonna shoot him in the fucking head

  Well Ironwood did snap and became full on dictator and we all know dictators don't allow people to question them. Ironwood was pretty resonable before he snapped though.  Plus, if you don't question an immoral order, you can eventually find yourself convicted of a war crime.  Nuhremburg set the standard that just following orders isn't a valid defense.

It’s almost as if rigidly and uncritically following insane orders is a really bad thing!

Personally I don't think Harriet wasn't hiding behind "Duty" I think by the time Clover Died, she was just utterly broken from his death, she was trying to hold her emotions in check but she was also scared out of her mind, you could see it on her face. And so she made the same Mistake as Ironwood, she allowed Fear to cloud her judgement. You can tell the moment she realized that when the other Ace Ops were trying to stop her, she realized she had been on the wrong side. I think inwardly, she is a good person, but she's been fighting for so long, watching friends and loved ones die, that she tried to stop feeling anything but Anger because lashing out is much easier then confronting your emotions. She almost said it well talking to Vine, "Clover was the Best of Us." And now she has a whole new reason to fight, a whole new reason to keep going, not just to honor the memory of her friends she's lost but to make amends for the awful things she did. Like Winter she realized she was wrong, and I think when she makes a reappearance she will be all the much more dedicated for it. and she'll come out of the Fall of Atlas a more mature person.

Clover's death had a huge impact on Harriet, and she connected that to her sense of duty, thinking that anyone who questioned her or Ironwood was basically mocking Clover's death. She double-downed on her duty because she didn't see the rest of her team as friends even though she did care about them and didn't know how to properly process it. Winter is different because she not only has her sense of duty, she allows herself to feel and establish bonds with others, notably Penny and Weiss.

It can be. Ironwood let Fear cloud his judgement, same as she did, Fear leads to Anger, Anger leads to Hate, Hate, leads to Suffering. She let the fear of Salem cloud her judgement, she let her anger over Clovers Death consume her, she let the hate of Qrow, Ruby and the others turn her into something she wasn't. and when she finally realized what she was doing, she suffered not only losing Clover but Vine as well, her home, possibly her family, lashing out, hiding your feelings behind anger is much easier than facing your emotions. that's the lesson here.Show less

[rennyji]

Interpret the law as Christ said about the Golden Rule, from this all laws follow...

When it comes to religion, I think it is something undervalued in the world, or at least the western world.

Religion is seen as a bunch of rules, something restricting sexual exploration, something your parents hold onto tightly and rubbing off loosely on their children...Religion can be seen as a status symbol or high minded talk of the elite. Religion might seem replaceable through psychiatry.

But religion, instead, gives structure, for our minds, so that we can "focus" on better living. It gives us a set of "guidelines" not "fixed rules" to extrapolate, to make informed decisions on all the random things life throws at us. It is far from a simple set of do's and don'ts. Life is not so concrete. My style of religion is not something to flaunt, form biases, or scream "Praaaiise Jesus" all day. For me, religion is like a fleece/sweater I wear to keep warm, or something I use to improve the quality of my day, my life. What is religion is about? Christ spoke in parables. In place of 10 Commandments, He advocated the Golden Rule: Love God first/foremost, and your neighbor as yourself. He said from the Golden Rule, all the other Commandments are guidelines that are "derived." He implies you should be able to DERIVE lessons. He spoke in parables because He didn't like telling people what to do. He was the Ultimate Advisor. The magic behind a parable is that it is a zip file or a compressed folder, containing multiple truths, for the filter of individual lives. What does that mean for non technical people? Imagine one folder (i.e. one parable) containing many papers inside. Each paper inside is a truth, an extrapolation, to be understood through the reader's life. If you're worrying about student loans or finances, there's a parable saying: "Look how God clothes the flowers of the field. Not even Solomon was clothed in such splendor." Look how He feeds the birds of the field or the grass of the field. Aren't we worth more than birds, and grass, and flowers? For the student loan worrier, that parable gives him the strength "to suppress his worry" and focus on solutions or keep his eyes open for solutions that come up all around us, in our daily lives. That's the part about filter of people's lives i.e. how it applies to your life.

So what am I getting at?

You hear and witness that the justice system is upside down. The justice system in America and elsewhere is like the 10 Commandments. Christ says the Golden Rule can be extrapolated for all situations. The 10 Commandments are given "because of the hardness of people's hearts" , or, put another way, people need things spelled out. If you spell out everything, you end up with a huge book or list of laws that people can't remember, aren't going to read, and aren't going to follow. The American justice system is like Pharisees of Christs' time realizing an animal fell into a ditch on the Sabbath, having no problem lifting out the animal, but not doing the same for a person who fell in a hole, because the Sabbath states no work can be done on that day.

We have a constitution. We have amendments. We have laws out the wazoo. I'm a little concerned "my situation" is lasting as long as it is, because someone thought they were so smart that they can do whatever they want, because the American legal system doesn't explicitly say: they can't or that its illegal.

This logic is being used in the laws surrounding asylum seekers, illegal immigrants, and possible crimes they commit and consequences.

There are laws that say if an asylum seeker commits a crime, they can be released because of the city being a sanctuary city. How does that make sense? Would that apply to an American citizen?

5000 Asylum seekers, on average, weekly, (maybe 25000 weekly divided by 5) come to the U.S. This goes on for months or years. If you're a 10 Commandment follower vs. a Golden Rule follower, you think there's no way of stopping or closing the border. You're waiting for an Okay. But it's the job of leaders, the President, both chambers of Congress, to interpret the law or existing laws, rather than blindly enforcing strictly worded laws or waiting for certain "worded laws" to be implemented. There is a problem with leadership, but also the mentality of the legal system as a whole.

I always thought it was common knowledge that the craftiest of lawyers interpret the law to accommodate cases or situations. What about Guliani's clever way of using RICO to tackle the bad groups in New York? Some of the cases that people read about or refer to, in law school, are about people who "interpreted" the law in a clever way. Why aren't people doing this now? Why aren't leaders doing this now?

In America, for 50 years, people have been arguing over abortion. 50 years. Are we stupid or caveman? We might be living in the day and age of mind reading, mind control, or at least Neuralink, from Musk, enabling thought controlled phones and paralyzed people regaining access to their limbs. We still can't figure out when life starts? There's when the body develops-from a sperm and egg forming a zygote, And Then there's a body housing a soul...

If we interpreted the law or parables or philosophies of old, at least to get the ball rolling on sensible laws, we can assume if the figurative Adam gained life from God "breathing into Adam," maybe we can assume life, or "life of the soul" (that's the argument, not clonable bodies) starts in a developing baby, when he/she starts getting oxygen. That might coincide with brain waves, which might coincide with the first 6 weeks. Perhaps abortion should be banned beyond 6 weeks.

We have all the rules we need for all times and seasons. Maybe from time to time, you need to ban something with a law, like unlawful gun sales. But if you follow the heart of the law, vs the literal wording of the law, as Christ did, you have everything you need to handle all existing and future situations, despite complexities.

In high school history classes, I learned about terminology like strict constructionists and loose constructionists. The strict, wait for a literal wording in the Constitution. The loose constructionists "interpret" existing wording. I think modern words border terms like originalists, for one or the other.

When you consider right to freedom, right to privacy, a right to certain inalienable rights...does it matter, if the situation is mind reading/mind control, or anything else the present and future times pose?!

[3xm-draconic]

Toil and Trouble (Werebat Cyris and Astarion story)

Summary: Revelations about his origins must wait to be processed, Cyris and his gang must track the infamous waterdeep hag down and get Gortash’s stone from her grasp.

“Wait, wait, waaaaaait a minute…hold up” Roger drunkenly mumbled “this means Cyris is a god”, Gale pondered for a moment “well technically yes but also no, it means he a double-demigod since he has taken mortal form”, “but he’s got no mortal parentage…how is he demigod if he got no mortal half?” Minsc scratched his head.

“Guys we can talk about my demi-mortality later, right now Whimbly has one of the stones and that is very, VERY bad” he shuttered, “right, kill hag now talk about god stuff later” Allegra nodded.

Everyone geared up and hit the town…

“Do you think she whent back to waterdeep?” Wyll turned to Cyris, “no, she’s still here, I can smell her, she’s too enthralled by the nightlife here and wants to feed off the misery and pain of the gamblers” he mumbled.

“Whimbly is a rather strange nighthag” Gale pondered “to feed off such things, usually they go for nightmares”, “in olden times nighthags feed of the suffering of others, now they tend to feed off fear rather than misery” Cyris replied “Whimbly prefers the old tastes and is considered… “odd” even by other hags”.

“Odd even to them…how?” Gale curiously turned to him, “she loves company and hates being alone, usually hags can only stand the presence of other hags but Whimbly hats others of her kind, she much prefers devils and other people” Cyris answered “and she LOVES to gamble, there ain't a game on Toril she can’t cheat at. Dice, cards, 3 dragon ante…you name it she’ll bet anything on it…and likely win. Normal nighthags deal in souls, Whimbls does too…but she’d much rather have gold.”

“She’s one of the notorious crime bosses in Waterdeep, right next to Xanathar, while he’s more of thieves guild boss…she deals more as a slave trader, drug exporter, pimp and illegal money launderer…basically she does everything the more tamer guilds aren't willing to do” Cyris sighed “but once she’s dead…everyone is going to be free” he grinned “no more debts…”

They split up to cover more ground, Gale and Cyris whent to the high-end restaurant district while Wyll and Astarion hit the night markets.

“I’ve…been thinking” Astarion sighed “about what Gortash said…about Cyris”, “calling him cupcake?” Wyll laughed a little, Astarion chuckled “no, no about…about a ring”. “you?...that's great Astarion!” Wyll smiled as he hugged the pale elf, Astarion rolled his eyes and patted Wyll’s back “I…know it’s a big step, but Cy and I have been on this adventure for…a while now and I want to purpose…when this is all over”.

“Well maybe while we are looking for the hag, you and I can look for rings? I’am nowhere near ready to purpose yet to Fireworks, I’am still planning on the right time” he grinned as he said Karlach’s affectionate nickname, Astarion frowned “we may not get the perfect time Wyll…we might die tomorrow…you should go to her and purpose, don’t wait, you may never get another chance…I nearly lost cy so I’am taking mine.”

Wyll nodded “you’re right”.

The group met back up and stopped for lunch at a cafe. 

Astarion wanted to show Cyris something…

“A graveyard?” Cyris pondered, “yes a graveyard…and my grave” Astarion took him to a little head stone.

It was covered by centuries of neglect, moss and lichen had overtaken it so much Cyris could hardly read the name of the tombstone.  

“I had to punch a hole in the coffin…and claw my way through 6 feet of dirt” Astarion sighed “then…when I broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood…Cazador was waiting…from that day on I was his…until now” he smiled. 

Cyris held his hand “you were never his sugerfangs”, Astarion laughed a little “maybe…but he did take it…there's almost nothing left of the person I once was…just a name on a rock…” he turned to Cyris “but you helped me change that”.

“You were by my side through all of this, you helped me figure out who I want to be now…though bloodlust, pain and misery you were patient, you cared, you trusted me when that was an objectively stuped thing to do” he looked into Cyris’s big doe-brown eyes “I feel…seen…with you, and whatever the future holds for us…I want it” he turned back to the grave “I should fix this…”

He began to clean it and make adjustments to the writing using one of his daggers…

Once he was done he turned to Cyris who sat next to him.

“I’ve been dead in the ground long enough…it's time to start living again, with everything life has to offer” he smiled “I love you, I love this…and I want it all”.

Cyris took one of the flowers from his flower crown and placed it on Astarion’s grave, “hmm, cute” Astarion chuckled softly “Cy…I want us to be together, regardless if I can walk in the sun or not, regardless of anything that may happen…I want us to be together” he took Cyris’s hands in his “marry me darling”.

Cyris’s eyes are full of tears, joyful happy tears “of course!”

An explosion erupted from the city.

“What was that?”, “I don’t know but we're about to find out” Cyris said worriedly. 

The team: ran through the streets as they came to a burning building. Inside was what seemed to be the remnants of a chemical lab “it may be one of Whimbly’s outpost drug labs…be on your guard” Cyris growld.

Then a familiar voice coughed out “oh hello there my sweet sanguin friend~”, “oh no” Astarion and Cyris grumbled in unison, “I wondered when we would meet again~”, “I hoped you’d have been eaten by wolves by now” Cyris hushly muttered under his breath “Hello Araj” he sighed.

“Forgive the mess…your blood is more…volatile…than expected” she hummed, 

“That's nice but we must be off” Astarion grumbled, “wait oh wait please, just try out my new formula” she pleaded, “what does it do?” Cyris humored her.

“You saw what it did to the lab…drink the formula and anybody that hits you or causes you to bleed…boom!”, “no thanks I don’t think that’s for me” Cyris shrugged. 

They bickered back and forth for a while until a chill ran down Cyris’s spine, he could smell something in her lab…

“Araj…what have you got in there?”, “hmm? Oh…nothing…”, Cyris could tell she was lying, her body said it all.

 “I smell it too…CYIRS!” Station and Cyris rushed past Araj and into the house, down into the basement were…

They found a cage…

Inside was…

A vampire spawn…

One of the turned Gur children who decided to live outside of Astarion’s rules, they looked…sick.

“Mm-mm-...” they tried to speak but they were so weak, “hush it’s alright, we’ll get you out of here” Astarion assured them,“m-mama…” they whimpered “I-I wanna g-go home to…to..mama”.

They were dying…

“Cyris, they need blood quickly!” Astarion cried as he held them, “on it” Cyris slit his hand and let his blood flow into their mouth…but it was no use their tiny skinny body going limp like a ragdoll in Astarion’s arms…

“No…Gods no…” Astarion whimpered, his voice shaking “no please, please drink…”

They were gone…

“What’s wrong? I…I fed them my blood-”, “THAT WAS THE PROBLEM YOU FUCKING DIPSHIT!” Astarion snapped at Araj “YOUR BLOOD IS DISEASED, YOU PRACTICALLY POISONED THEM!”

Astarion grabbed her by her throat, “WAIT WE NEED HER ALIVE!” Cyris stopped him, Astarion stopped and then glared at him “you better have a good reason…”, “look” Cyris showed him a note.

It was a receipt for alchemical ingredients that came from a place called “Aunt Fibi’s Brewery Ingredients Emporium”, “she bought this from Aunt Fibi, that’s one of Whimbly’s aliases, she can tell us where she may be hiding”.

“Well then? TALK!” Astarion growld as he squeezed her throat, “lower…City…by the..d-docks..” she whimpered “will…will you let me go now?”.

Astarion smiled evilly “oh sweet Araj…I thought you wanted to know what it was like to be eaten by a vampire?”

Araj wanted to scream but Astarion kept her quiet.

“Cyris, Gale, Wyll wait outside, I don’t think you want to see this”, Gale, Will and Cyris stepped outside while Astarion proceeded… 

He ate…he did not drink…he ate, he wanted nothing of her to be left to bury…for even maggots in the dirt to feed on…

He ate until nothing but clean bones were left…

She tasted awful… 

“Serves you right for torturing an innocent” he huffed as he patted his now very full stomach. 

The gang didn’t question or wonder what he did…or why he looked so…stuffed.

They pressed onward to their new objective: infiltrate Aunt Fibi’s Brewery Ingredients Emporium and get the stone back from whimbly.

[the-witchhunter]

Jazz had a lot of time to think as she manned the front desk of the auto shop. Too much time to think. Working there was not what she thought her life would be like at 20. She thought she would be at Princeton, or maybe Yale, working towards a doctorate like she had always dreamed of. She did not expect to be working in some shithole in Gotham of all places. She certainly didn’t expect she’d end up in crime alley. 

The place was practically dead, with only the occasional “customer” coming in. Technically, Jazz was hired on as a mechanic, but she so rarely was in the actual shop. Sure, there were times a legitimate customer came in needing a repair. She’d gladly took to the work and before they’d know it she’d have the new exhaust welded on. Those customers were few and far between. Jazz suspected the shop was a front for some kind of illegal activity, maybe money laundering. That was none of her business though. The shop paid her bills, better than a position like that should, and she knew better than to stick her nose where it didn't belong. The best thing to do was keep her head down, unless she wanted to lose it.

The plus side of having nothing to do was it allowed her plenty of time to read. The Gotham Library had a wonderful selection to choose from. Seeing as the top donor was one Bruce Wayne, it didn’t surprise her that the place was so well funded. She’d pop in a couple days a week, grab a stack of the latest psychology research, and a few classics to read at work. 

She was rereading Pride and Prejudice when her boss walked in. Todd Peter strolled in, looking tired and rumpled. She suspected the man had just woken up despite it being well into the afternoon. The fact his clothes were rumpled told her he had slept in them. Considering he had come  from the back, it was safe to assume he had slept in his office. 

“Morning Jazz.” Todd yawned as he passed her, making a beeline for the coffee pot.

“It’s 2:15.” she replied, not even looking up from her book. Todd glanced at the clock as he poured the cold coffee into his mug. Humming as he took a sip.

“So it is.” His gaze shifted to the book. “Reading Austen I see.” He nodded.

“An acute observation.” Jazz never knew what to make of her boss. He was pleasant to work with and even nice enough to give her an advance on her pay when she needed it. He wasn’t bad to look at either, only being a few years older than her, broad shouldered, with a head full of curls and a jaw she could cut herself on. He obviously had his secrets though. He kept odd hours and odder company, and there was this niggling feeling that there was something she was missing. “Have you read it?”

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife” He quoted fluidly. “Yes, I’ve read Pride and Prejudice. It’s one of my favorites.”

“I didn’t take you as one for the classics.”

“I’m quite fond of them though I don’t get as much time to read them as I used to, This might surprise you, but as a kid, I used to constantly have my nose buried in a book. I’d spend hours at the library when I could, surrounded by books. I was a weird kid. I loved reading and going to school. Hell, I even liked doing homework. Still kind of do. One of these days, I’d love to go back and get a degree.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Some things came up when I was younger that got in the way of that. A member of my family died, and schooling just wasn’t an option.” He said with an odd look. He seemed almost surprised he had admitted that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a downer this early in the day.”

“It’s fine. Believe me, I understand what you mean.” She said, and she did. “Sounds like we’re more alike than I realized.”

...

“Danny, I’m home.”

Jazz stepped into her unlit apartment, closing the door behind her. She heard scuttling in the dark, the sounds of claws clicking against the wooden floors. The thing in the shadows looked out at her, inhuman eyes burning green in the dark. A pang of sadness hit her as her gaze met his.

With a sigh, she went to make some food for her and what was left of her brother.

Short DPXDC Prompts #796

Jazz goes undercover and works as a mechanic in Crime Alley. Her boss, Todd Peter, is really fucking cute.

[melonthesprigatito]

Word Girl Villains Christmas Headcanons

Rhyme's favourite Christmas movies are Olive the Other Reindeer because there is a con man penguin in it and Elf because she thinks it's amusing that the secretary that appears in a few scenes sounds almost exactly like her, almost as though they're both voiced by the same person * cough* Amy Sedaris *cough*

All the villains prefer not to watch Home Alone because it doesn't even well for the burglars in that movie. They dread the day Word Girl watches it in case it gives her any ideas.

Tobey uses his giant robots to hang mistletoe in every place he can think of in the hopes he can catch Word Girl under one. Maybe THIS time he'll finally get a kiss. Hopefully. Tobey also tries to introduce the bad guys to mince pies, aka the Classic British Christmas Food™ but they're all either confused or disappointed that there's no actual meat in them. Tobey ends up being exasperated by the constant "So why's it called a MINCE pie if there's no mince in it???" questions.

The villains are low key worried that Tobey, Victoria and Eileen will end up on the naughty list because of their evil activities, so Leslie makes sure they have a few presents for them just in case.

Granny May knits ugly Christmas sweaters for everyone. Unless they want to spend Christmas tied up in a giant ball of yarn, they have to wear them. No exceptions. Ms Question is totally cool with this because she already wears a sweater that she stitched a question mark into as her villain outfit so she appreciates the thought and effort that went into making them.

Lady Redundant Woman is ABSOLUTELY one of those retail workers that hates Christmas because of the customers and the Christmas music playing on repeat at the copying store. Doesn't help that Dave loves the holidays and is EXTRA cheerful this time of year.

The Villains Society decide to enforce a ban on committing any real crimes for the duration of the holiday season, because they realised that they'd rather not spend Christmas or New Year's in a jail cell. So instead...

Dr Two Brains starts turning things into cheese... so he can donate it to food banks. Word Girl wonders how the heck he managed to give away cheese to other people without pissing off Squeaky, and he's like "Well, I ordered a new cheese ray from Evil Monthly Magazine and they sent me a ray for GOAT'S CHEESE ray, can you believe it?! And they wouldn't give me a refund! Might as well get my money's worth!"

Chuck breaks into the mall at night.... Because he wants to be first in line to visit the mall Santa, might as well get there early.

Ms Question hits several people with her confusion ray... but it turns out that them being stuck in a state where they're questioning what gifts they should get got other people actually helped them to make a decision once it wore off.

Mr Big hypnotises a crowd... to organise a bunny themed Christmas parade. When the people are unhypnotised, they're just more disappointed that they missed the parade because they weren't conscious during hypnosis.

Rhyme and Reason head to the park and Rhyme freezes the entire lake... and people have a blast skating on the new ice rink. The civilians are actually annoyed when Word Girl tries to apprehend her and she gets called a Scrooge.

Word Girl is flabbergasted because they're doing things that are technically illegal, but not necessarily EVIL. And people are a lot more forgiving of the "crimes" than they normally are this time of year so Word Girl just let's them off with a warning. Amazing Rope Guy somehow gets arrested anyway but they let him go because "Hey, it's Christmas"

The villains throw a huge Christmas party (funded by Mr Big), and they even invite Word Girl. They also include her in their Secret Santa. She gets a Pretty Princess figure from Leslie. Amazing Rope Guy gets a fucking Key to the City from Word Girl because it was last minute so she panicked and grabbed the first thing she could see in her hideout.

D.A Sally Botsford is surprised to find a Christmas card signed by all the villains in the mail.

To make a long story short about Rhyme and Reason's childhood for this next headcanon, Rhyme was abandoned by her parents in space, she crashed landed on Earth, grew up in an orphanage, was ostracized by her entire town because of her powers and was singled out/bullied by her orphanage caretaker.

At Christmas, Rhyme would always end up on the Naughty List. Not because she was bad, but because her caretaker would intercept the letter and send her a return letter saying that she was a bad girl and she would NEVER get on the nice list. Rhyme was always the only kid in the orphanage who didn't get any presents. But she never lost hope because she just knew that if she tried hard enough, she could be on the nice list next year, so she never stopped believing in Santa.

Meanwhile Reason's parents... Weren't very involved in his life. They gave him the bare minimum of attention so he basically was forced to mature early and learn to take care of himself. So Santa wasn't really a thing in their household because they couldn't be bothered.

Reason never believed in Santa but he never told any of the other kids in the town because he didn't want to ruin the magic for them. Every year Reason saw Rhyme be heartbroken on Christmas Day and it killed him inside because he wished he could just tell her that her orphanage caretaker was deliberately ruining Christmas but he didn't want to destroy her hopes and dreams by breaking the news to her and destroy her belief in Santa Claus.

So, on the last year before Rhyme was too old for Santa to visit, Reason took drastic measures. He spent months saving up his allowance to buy presents for Rhyme and on Christmas Eve, he broke into the orphanage and found Rhyme's stocking. He got rid of the coal and filled it with the presents he bought. On Christmas morning Rhyme came down the stairs to find her stocking filled with presents, and a new letter from "Santa" saying that she was always on the nice list, but her caretaker stole her presents and made it look like he gave her coal.

Rhyme later excitedly showed her presents to Reason and ranted about how she KNEW there was something fishy going on with the naughty list and she was so relieved that Santa finally managed to put a stop to the sabotage. It wasn't until well into their supervillain careers that Reason told her what REALLY happened that night.

[red-bat-arse]

we've all gotten so used to superheroes being mainstream and with sprawling connections across the globe that i think we've started treating them like extensions of law enforcement - not in the way that, like, green arrow would help break up a picket line or superman would protect private property from the homeless, but that we've forgotten that what theyre doing is illegal

i think it would actually be more interesting to focus on that aspect of it. like, the gotham police are supposed to be the most corrupt in north america, jim gordon has the batsignal because he cant trust most of his officers. flash has a good relationship with his rogues a lot of the time because he can afford to, he's a vigilante, he's not forced to arrest them by anything except his own moral compass. wonder woman is an amazon, she literally has only the gods to answer to! she isn't gonna turn someone in for stealing food - she would be more likely to just give that person a random sack of coins and sent them on their way. the lanterns technically dont actually have jurisdiction if earth police dont recognize it, wouldnt that make a lantern popping in illegal? And if so, wouldnt that make a great fucking comic book??

i dunno i just see a lot of fanworks and media where there's cops n shit who barely bat an eyelash at heroes and vigilantes dropping into investigations and maybe its just the marxist in me but, realistically, cops would hate superheroes and vigilantes and would probably not cooperate with them one bit. yknow how CADMUS acts in the dcu? the cops should basically be the same but in the public eye, with less experimenting on metahumans and more systemic rascism. the police force is the armed body of the state, designed specifically to keep the oppressed masses in line; barring exceptional outliers like the mentioned jim gordon, why on EARTH would they do anything but try to shoot dc level vigilantes on sight????

and since im also a sucker for heroes and want them to still do good and for people to look up to them, how about more stories about ordinary people helping them out, realizing they help more than the police do, loving them because they're not law enforcement and that's a good thing!! because no way is green arrow gonna do anything but protect that picket line from the cops, and superman would sooner give a homeless guy the shirt off his back than help anyone remove him from private property for trying to find shelter, and batman's going to take his rogues down so they can get help and he still shows empathy for them even when they've done horrible things, he's going to talk to drug runners and thugs working for the mob and give them a business card, and then bruce wayne is going to give those guys a job to help them leave crime behind.

give me stuff like this over zombies or alien invaders any day!!!