#top 3 greatest got crimes I fear

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

We as a fandom don’t talk enough about how Game of Thrones decided to combine Jon Snow and Young Griff into one character and how that was absolutely ridiculous on like 1000 different levels. Because how do you combine two characters who are FOILS to one another and then play it completely straight?! Then to make matters worse they gave Jon the boy’s stupid name?! Goddamnit I knew they didn’t get Jon as a character pretty early on, but why mesh his arc with the one guy you shouldn’t combine with? 😭

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[littencloud9]

Hello again....Do you mind if I ask your top 5 (or top 10) favorite moments from any media that you love (books, anime/manga, tv series, movies, games, etc)? Thanks if you want to answer. Sorry if I ask too much....

hihi!! oooh i'll see if i can narrow it down skdjfjhj. this isn't in any particular order i adore them all <3

moriarty the patriot - this scene i can't even begin to explain it. it was so well written and emotional. i think it captured the message of yuumori incredibly well. you did bad, you were wrong, now work to be better. a brand new start. you don't have to forgive yourself, you just have to to move on, and i'll do it with you. absolutely lovely scene :( <3

bungou stray dogs - ranpo's invitation to yosano fucking CINEMATIC okay. i cried. the way it was set up, with ranpo kneeling to yosano's level and promising her a place to stay. the lighting of this scene giving it such a hopeful look. the emotional impact. they are my favourite duo in bsd and their dynamic is sooo precious to me and i just. one of my fav scenes in bsd EVER!!!

haikyuu - tsukishima's block THIS WAS JUST PHENOMANAL KSFHJ. the POWER. the SCREAM. the perfect moment for his character arc, the 'it' moment. oh my god. i only very recently got into haikyuu and this scene lives in my head rent free

vanitas no carte - s2 finale fight THEY WERE INSANE FOR THIS. this entire fight had me on the edge of my seat. if it's one thing vnc is an expert in it's setting a scene. the rain the lighting the FEAR through the screen. this shit was RAW. when vanoé got into the 'ill kill you thatll shut you up' position i literally screamed. vanitas' turmoil vs noé's devastation oh my godddd. domi unlocking her powers. jeanne's entire role. there was so much happening and GOD it was amazing i loved it

jujutsu kaisen - so start by saving me sigh. LIFE GETS BETTER DONT GET INTO JUJUTSU KAISEN. this panel lives in my head rent free and i think if i ever see it animated i'd burst into tears. megumi saying this to yuuji means so much to their characters okayyy two people who have always been saving each other, megumi who watched yuuji die in front of him, IT MEANS SO MUCH. i would ramble more but alas i dont wanna turn this into an essay

link click - cheng xiaoshi and qiao ling vs xiao ma BANGERRRR SCENE they mean the absolute world to me and i love that they were clearly protecting each other throughout the whole fight. i love the insane team up. qiao ling grabbing xiao ma's leg so cxs could punch him. this damn stand thing she used. the fluidity of the scene etc etc. just an amazing fight sequence overall i feel

moriarty the patriot - james bonde's reveal INSANE PLOT TWIST. bonde is my favourite yuumori character and i just. this was so funny. fym he chose bonde because of the bonds he made with the lord of crime gang IT'S SO CUTE 😭 i have nothing to say i just adore bonde and this is thus one of my fav scenes ever

moriarty the patriot - the moriarty brothers reunite CRIED FR. i just. the EMOTIONS. the way they did everything for each other and had to separate for three years and how both albert and louis thought william was dead and how none of them really ever forgave themselves but they forgive each other, so thats all that matters, isn't it? and how soothing this hug was, like finally finding your home again, and how THEY ARE FAMILY ough im so ill. i adore this moment

bungou stray dogs - you are but a child this scene hurt me then healed me. i actually cried so hard. their dynamic is so important to meee and they're both learning to care and love for the first time and they found comfort in each other and ranpo is just a CHILD and fukuzawa helps him see that it's okay and and. sniffles. bring them back asagiri this is a threat

vanitas no carte - i've decided to stay by your side, vanitas this is just because i'm in love with noé and i think vanitas realised things about himself here too/j. but on a serious note i think this was one of the greatest turning points in their relationship. i like the vibe of them on the tower and the sun rise coming up when they swear to stay together. cinematic asf

[ohkate]

Thanks to @gallawitchxx for tagging me!

name: Kate

your... uhm.. scAaAary age: I'm in it right now. 45. I feel like 44 was the last age where you could be a single woman and not get looked at like you're sad and you're going to die a tragic lonely death.

🎥🔪🩸 do you like scary movies? I'm OBSESSED with horror movies. I'm a horror movie snob. I can and have written essays about my annoyance with how many films are listed as horror when they aren't so. I also think it's a crime that the Exorcist is still the movie listed as the scariest of all time on just about every scary movie list and we haven't been able to top that in 51 fucking years.

if so, what's your favorite scary movie? I just...I couldn't choose. My favorite scary movie right now is a Polish movie called Hellhole. You can watch it dubbed on Netflix. The movie appears at first to be super low budget. It's gruesome and gross at times but I just loved it! It's not jump-scare scary. But it's ominous and the end is just ::chef's kiss::. Religious scary movies are the best kind. It's the last real unknown. I'm not afraid of a clown or an evil doll. I'm afraid of the mailman bringing bills an bad news. Religious stuff is the only thing left that still scares me a little.

if you were trapped in a slasher film, would you survive? if not; how & when would you die? I would absolutely survive any scenario unless it involved running. I cannot run. I would just have to go ahead and die.

now that we got the scary questions out of the way. let's get a little more light hearted! 💕

what is your greatest fear? Wasting time. I'm the person who, the second I'm done with work, I'm out the door. I don't want to 'hang out or 'chill'. I'm not chill. I want to know what we're doing because if it's not better than being by myself then I don't want to do it. Also... I love the ocean, but I'm petrified of being in it higher than my knees. I'm afraid of little creatures biting me. I can hold snakes, mice and any kind of bug without freaking out. I don't panic if a spider lands in front of me. As long as I know it's there and I can see it ahead of time I'm fine. But not in the water.

what is your favorite supernatural creature? Not sure if this counts but Johnny 5 from Short Circuit. Just wanted input. Could have taken over the world but only wanted to make friends and be alive. When he learned all he could, he just wanted to dance and listen to music. The meanest he got was to tell someone 'your mother was a snowblower!' Imbued with a soul from some mystical accident and of course everyone wanted to kill him.

ever had a paranormal encounter? Not sure if it counts but in my whole life, I've been in 3 car accidents- all minor and always as a passenger- and I've had dreams the night before about getting into a random car accident for all of them. Call that whatever you want. I literally called out sick to work one day after I had a bad car accident dream the night before. I always wonder if I avoided some horrific death by not going that day.

in a high stress situation; do you fight or are you more of a flight person? I'm a fighter with my mouth. I can argue my way out of anything. That being said, a few years ago I got to the point where arguing with stupid just became tedious. If you think the Earth is flat...fine. Congrats. I'm not going to argue with your stupid ass. So now I'm a little more flight than fight.

what is your favorite part about halloween? That it pisses of religious zealots.

bonus question: what is your credit card number?

(I watch Lost Boys every Halloween.)

tagging the last few people who commented on my shit: @badassfetish @atthedugouts @lookiloveyou @guinguin1984 @arcadia-wildfire @iandarling @energievie @suzy-queued @catgrassplantdad

[septicwriters]

Well! 3 days, and 25 pages later, may I present, my short, (not so short) story!:

Break on Through To The Other Side

Every 70 years, portals open and create crossovers across the universe. As many as 100 of these portals could appear, to less then 1. They can show up anywhere at any time, the only sure this is they occur. And unfortunately, this occurrence happened rifhr under someone's nose.

"Marv, what the fuck are you doing?" Chase asked, sipping some coffee. Marvin had his tongue out in concentration, dousing rods in his hands.

"There's a magical anomaly going on today, and I'm gonna find it before it happens." Chase raised a brow.

"Okay, but why are you in the house instead of going out into the city?" Marvin smirked as his rods got closer.

"Because I'm right on top of it!" Marvin ran up the stairs and slowed walking down the hallway. The rods continued to get closer to eachother as he walked before they completely crossed.

"Yes!" He busted down the door with a smile. Sadly, the smile fell immediately as he realized whose room it was.

"Anti!" The demon looked up from his phone with a confused sneer.

"Wḩ͞a̶̷͞t͟͏͠?" Marvin groaned in frustration.

"Your demonic aura is fucking with my dousing rods! Ugh! I'm going out!" Marbin slammed the door, leaving Anti very confused.

"Ú̧͞h̷̡͝,̢ ̡҉͞so̢r͠͠ry̷̢͜?" Anti shook his head and got comfortable on his bed, continuing to scroll on his phone. Next thing he knew, he was falling.

"F̢uck̨͜!" Anti hissed as he landed on hard concrete, looking around before freezing.

"W̸͏h͝e͏̢ŗ̶̶e̴̢ ̛í̧̛n͘͞͏ t̢h̡̢͟é̛҉ ̵̢͢nì̧͢ne̴ ͢͡h̵̵͝e̶͟l̸̢͡l҉s̡҉?"

"Pride." Anti jumped and looked up to see... a demon?

"What?" Anti grunted as he rose from the ground. The demon rolled their eyes.

"You're in the pride circle, that's what you asked, isn't it?" Anti liked in confusin for a moment be shaking his head.

"Ù̕ḩ, ҉yeah͞,̡ t̢̢h̛́á̸̡nḱ͞s, ̴d̸̡èm̢̧o҉҉n-̀͠͞I͏͏-̕͝d̷̀͟on̶͠'͝t́-͜r͟eço͜g̸͜҉n͘͡͡i̡͏z͝͡e̕͜." They suddenly got very angry.

"I'm an imp!" Next thing he knew, he had a gun to his face, flattening him on his back. It took a minute, but he rose with a flaring migraine.

"So̡n̴̴͘ ͏of ҉a̛͘-" Anti smacked the back of his head until the bullet came out and sighed.

"W͟͏h̷at͠ ̷̢t҉̛́h́ȩ̨̛ ͘͏f̀͠u͟c͢҉k̷͡ ͢͏̶í͜͢s҉̀̀ ̡͘͠ą́͡n̨͟͝ ͏i̕͞m̸p?" He stood and dusted himself off before looking around. He did his best to take in the scene that was being thrown at him.

"D̶̢́em͏̵ǫ̴̕ņ,͘͟ ̴҉͜d͜͢͏o̕g p̡͢͡é̛͞o̡͢ṕ͟͝l͘͟e̕, ͟an̷̢͟d͡ '̢̕͝imp҉ś̛' ̨̛͞apṕ̷͠ar̡̢͢e͝ǹt̶̢͡ly̶̶͜.̧͟ W̵̧͡h̵̨y҉̀͡ n̴̢̕oţ̀͘?" He started to walk, looking at the demolished and smoldering buildings. Ot was chaos, he shivered, reminded him of- of...

"No way. There's no fucking way!" He read the billboard with a deep rooted fear. "Pride! The Greatest Circle in Hell!" Thisbcpuldnt be Hell. Hell looked different, felt different. And it didn't have imps that shot you in the face for no fucking reason! So, if this wasn't Hell Hell, then, what was it?

Anti jumped and froze when an explosion rang far too close to him. He watched the building crime with wide eyes, but wait, what's that? A Hotel? It seemed to the only thing not on fire. He ran as fast as his legs could take him. F.y.i. tjsts real fast.

Anti read the singing in the front door. Said signs made Anti question everything, they looked like they were colored by a five year old. Never would he think he'd seen a rainbow in Hell, but, well, its been a rough half hour.

"H͘azben H͟ơtel, f̛o͝r ͘sen̡d̷i͜n҉g s͘įn͢nérs̢ to ̸H͝eav̕ȩn̶." He mumbled, if question marks and three dots could appear over his head, they would. With a deep breath, he rang the knocker. His ears twitched, hearing hushed whispers.

"A costume-...! Places! Angel, don't.... -body ready? Here we go!" Antj jumped, he's been doing that a lot, when the double does were yanked open with a blonde with a humongous smile.

"Welcome to the Hazben Hotel!" Anti stared at her as well as two others with a sense of tension. The girl before him, looking sort of lime a clown, was more than meets the eye. She was easily the most powerful thing in that room, riding a 9 at the "well, fuck" meter.

She was second by a men in red, a sharp smile with an aura that screamed trou ke. There was something about him that put the glitch on edge, and Anti didn't like it.

And then there was the silver haired one eyed girl. She was completely different than any of them. Why was so off? Was that... angelic. Before he knew it, Anti was being dragged inside.

"Allow me to introduce myself along with everyone else! I'm Charlie, this is Vaggie. That guy with the charming smile is Alastor, the two guys at the bar are Husk and Angel, and the little one stabbing the curtains is Nifty." Anti took all of this information slowly. He had no idea what was happening.

"So, new tennant, what is your name?" Anti looked to her and sighed.

"Ànt̀i."

"Anti what?" Anti glared at her, how do people always get his name wrong? It's Anti, not Anti-eye.

"A̡ǹt́iśe͠pt̡i̸c͞e̢y͏e͟." She smiled.

"Well, Mr. Septiceye, we are so glad you chose to cleanse your soul! Before long, you'll be kicking down those pearly gates with a satisfied smile!" Anti did a double take .

"Wo̴ah, bac͡k ̴up.͠ ͡W̨h́y̴ d͠o ̸yo͘u t͘hinḱ I'̛m͝ ̶h̡ȩr̛e?" Charlie's smile fell slightly.

"To purify your soulf and go to Heaven?" Anti snorted, was this girl for real?

"Y͝ea̛h̵,̡ nơ ̵th̀a̶n͡ķs. ͘H̷ea̶v̛en i͠s̸ n̢o͘t͞ my c͜up͠ o̵f͏ w͡hi̕sk͝e͞y̵. ̶ Án͢d,̡ c͢an͢ ҉y̡ou a͟ct̷u̢ally̵ d͢o ̛t͠hat҉? ̛Sen̶d souls̷ t̢o ͜Hea͏v͞en͡?" Charlie seemed to deflate a little more as Vaggie got closer.

"Uh, I'm not sure. But, we won't know unless we try. For example, Angel, here, is out tenant, amd making excellent progress! A perfect candidate for Heaven!" Angel waved, looking Anti up and down in a way that made the demon shiver

"Bu͢t.҉.͟.́ ̀he͜'͘s ́sti͝ll̀ ̡her̛e." Charlie's confidence contoured to drop.

"Yes, well-"

"If you're not here to try and get into Heaven, then why are you here?" Vaggie cut in, holding Charlie's shoulders supportingly. Anti shrugged, looking at the girl curiously.

"Th̨is͝ seeme͡d ͏t̛o ̸b̢e ̕ţhe ́safȩst ̶pl͘a͜c̢e͘ įn̛ th̸is͞ ͡sh͜ít͟ ̢h҉ol҉e ͜un͡t̸i͜l I͘ f̴i̷g̀u͡re̶ ̧ơùt wh̷at҉'s ̵going ǫn͟. ͠Şo, ́i̷f ̀you ͟d̢o̧n̡'̡t͠ m͡ind,̡ I̡'m ̛g̢o̴n̕n͏a͝ ̕r҉e̸lax ͠he̶r͢e̷ u̧n͜ti̛l͝ ͢I figúre out͜ ̨ho͢w͝ t͡o ̧get̛ h͠o͟m͞e.͝ Ca̕p͏i̧c͡he̕?" The whole room got quiet until Angel whistled.

"I like this one, I vote he stays." Angel picked his lips, and Anti raised a brow.

"Yes. You are a fascinating one, aren't you?" Anti turned to see the smiling guy-Alastor- was right behind him. Anti glared him down, daring him to try anything.

"Yes, yes, lots of spunk! You could be quite the specimen." Anti slapped Alastors mic away with a scoff.

"D͘oņ'̡t you̧ ̨have ͝a ͏w͟reştl҉ing ̴m͝átch͏ t͠o͜ ̸co̢m͘ment̴ o͞n͠?" Alastor seemed to have frozen for a moment, keeping his unnerving smile.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't do wrestling matches."

"C͜o̧u̧ļd̵ ͘of ̷foo̴led̸ me͡.͟ ͘W͘h͜a͠t'̷s ̀with t͟he v̧o͜ic͏e̡? ̀The ̵20̡'s ̢ca͏l̀l̛e͢d, th͠e͏y ̧wa̸nt̷ th̛e̴ir҉ ͜rad̸io̷ p̵od̕c͜a̸şt ̶b̕ac̶k̸. " The room stilled with a stiffening silence. Those who knew, watched Alastos antlers grow slightly while Anti's knife appeared in his hand. Their auras clashed against eachother until-

"He̶y!̧ ͡Wh͝at ̢t͠he ҉f̕uc͢k!̕ ͝G͜et o̧f͏f!"

"Oohoo! I like you! Bad boy! Hot! Yum!" Anti danced around, trying to pull Nifty off as she climbed all over him. They just watched for a minute until Vaggie pulled her off. Alastor had walked away by then and Charlie's cheerfulness returned.

"Well! Feel free to stay as long as you like! And if you change your mind about rehabilitation, just let me know, there is no shame in changing your mind." Anti watched her before sitting at the bar, on the opposite end of Angel.

"What do you have to offer?" Antk asked, running his fingers through his hair. Husk plopped a bottle in fron kf him and Anti sniffed it with a grimace.

"W͠hat͜ ͠the͠ heĺl ̸is̕ ̡this��?͜ S͡n̸a̢k͡e҉ òi͠l҉?" Husk shrugged.

"Don't like it, don't drink it." Anti sighed and took a swig, it tasted worse then it smelled. With a grimace, he put the bottle down amd looked to his right when a finger dragged his chin towards its owners direction.

"Hey, hot stuff. Want a good time?" Anti glared at him before standing.

"N̶o͢ t͡han͝k̡s.͟ ҉N͘ow̷s ͠no̴t t͠he̴ tim͜e͝ ̧for̶ ̷a̷ ̴ho͘o̴k̨ up." Angel pouted up at him.

"There's always time for a hook up! What could be more important?" Anti rolled his eyes.

"G͟etti͞ng̴ hom͝e.̸ ͟Nǫw,͘ ar̛è ̀the̴re͏ ͠any̵ mąg͝i̶c̨ ̛usèr a͘rơun̷d̢ ̷I c͜ould͡ ta͞l͘k ̢t͜o҉?" Angel made a face at him.

"Any idiot that can read can perform magic. Why? What do you need it for?" Antk ignored him and picked his lips.

"I̛s͞ ̧t͘h͠er҉e̴ ̨a͝ lįb͡ra͢ry ͝a̡ro͘u̵n̛d h͞ȩre҉?" Husk made a face.

"A library in Hell? I think you have had too much to drink." Antk fumed.

"Th̨at's a͟ ̶'̴no̶' th͝e̷n̕."

"Well, not an absolute no, there always Lord-" Anti grabbed the demon by his shirt and pinned him to the bar.

"Whe̕r̵e!"

Stoles hummed as he read his grimpire and age his cakes for breakfast. It was in fact a lovely morning where nothing could go wrong. Although unbeknownst to him, a hand covered in glitches grabbed a book and vanished. Stoles piped up and looked around curiously. With a shrug he went back to his book and breakfast, but when it happened again, he got more concerned. After the third time, he was up and walking around.

"What's the matter with you?" Blitzø asked through a yawn, snuggling deeper into their bed.

"I'm not sure, I felt a twitch." Blitzø yawned again.

"Was probably nothing."

Anti looked through the books he snatched at a fast pace. If Marvin wee here, he'd know what's going on, he'll, he'd be home already. As he went to page, a microphone slapped on the book.

"What do you have here, friend?" Anti looked up and found an annoying smile. He rolled his eyes.

"R͡e̛ad͏i͠ng,̢ ev̀e͘r͢ ̶he҉ar̨d҉ ͝of i̡t̢?"

"Of course! Do you mind if I ask where you found such articles?" Anti shrugged.

"I ́s̛t͝ole ͝t̢h͏e͢m f̵ro̶m ̵s̸ome l̡ord.͡ Lord St̛a͘- Stor-"

"Lord Stolas? You stole books from Lord Stolas's private library?" Anti scoffed.

"I ͜pl̷an͟ ͡o̴n̕ ͏r͟et̡ur̸ǹi̶n̕g th̸e͟m͞,̨ ͞c̶a҉l͠m ̀yơur ҉t͟it͠s̕." Alastor quickly snatched a book Anti already browsed through amd held it like it was his precious.

"No! I'll hold them for him. Don't even worry!" Anti gave him an odd look before shaking his head.

"W̧ḩa̵t̵e̕ver͝.̛ ͜N͡ow, ͏g͜et ͏ou͢t̶ o͡f̢ ͏he̸re͟,͞ ͝I͜ ̶ca͜n҉'t́ fo͏c͡ưs͟ ̕w͞i̛t̸h̸ ́yơur ҉annoýi҉nǵ ͞a͟s͠s͢ vo̸ic͢e̶." Anti flipped to a new lage and tried to focus on his book. Alastor just sat there amd stared at him for a while.

"You know, most people tend to treat me with respect."

"Y̵ea͏h?̶ ͜Well͘, I'm ̨not m͏os̴t͢ ̡p͟eop̧le̴. G̛o ̴the͝ ͏fu͝ck̡ ąw̛ay." Alastor continued to just stand there before the vanished in a shadow.

"That's okay, I've been told I'm an excellent teacher." Alastor began to laugh wildly as be wrapped his speaker around Antks neck. The glitche Crowley and grabbed ahold of the rod, flipping the Radio Demon on the table. Alastor flipped himself around and kicked Antk in the face as be was about to snap his speaker in half. Anti wiped the blood from his lip with a growl.

"You're̡ a ̀fu̴c͟king ͜frèa͏k͏, ̨le҉ave me ҉th͢e̶ ̛f̡uc̀k al͘on͘è un̛l̸ȩss y̴ou͏ ͡w̴a̧n̶t͘ to d͏ię." Alastor dusted off his coat with his usual smile.

"Funy. That's just what I was about to say to you." Anti growled that sinlmilar to a lion, quickly losing patience. Antis glitched danced all around his body as Alastors form changed. They were frozen in a stare as their powers grew.

"Uh, hey guys, what's going on?" Charlie entered the room, breaking both out of their concentration.

"Nothing, my dear! Just having a friendly chat with our Ant-I here!" Anti growled.

"A͡nti!" Charlie smiled.

"Good to see you two getting along. Find anything, Mr. Septiceye? Antk sighed, sitting back in his chair.

"N̢o̴, b͞ut̀ ̵rese̸a͢r̛ch͜ ̢was ̨n̷e̕ver m͡y̕ thi̕ng."

"Oh? Well, what is your thing? Annoying perfectly reasonable demons?" Alastor teased with a smile. Anti bared his sharp teeth in a snarl.

"No,̷ ҉m͜y th̴i̛ng ̡is̷ t͞or͜tưr̵ing̶ ͝a̷n͡d̸ ͜k̛i̧llin͢g̵ ̕pe͜oṕl̵e th̸at̡ ͟ánnoy͜ m͜e." Alastor chuckled.

"I bet." Charlie eyed the two of them before shoving Alastor away from the glitch demon.

"Hey, um, I need your help with something, Alastor, come with me!" Anti sighed amd went back to his books. Getting absolutely nowhere.

Several hours later, when Anti's eyes were overly tired, Husk put a playe down in front of him.

"Here, I think you're due for a break." Anti looked at the plate curiously. It didn't look too lovely, but smelled pretty nice. He slid over his boom and slid the plate closer.

"T̀hank̷s̢. H͟u͞sk̕, ̸r͏i͏g͜h̡t?" Husk nodded, sitting next to Anti.

"Yeah, and your Anti and not Ant-I. Something tells me you're not from.around here, right?" Anti smirked lightly.

"Wha̵t҉ ́wás͢ your̷ ͘fir͏st ͘c̛l͜ue͟?" The food seemed to be some kind of biscuit, not that bad either.

"Well, challenging the Radio Demon for one." Anti snorted.

"'Ra͡d̕i̸o͟ De̵m͡o̡n'̷?͏ ̵A̵nd p҉eople͜ ͘la͟ugh͟ ͠ąt ̛me̷?" Husk shook his head.

"Trust me though, that's one demon you don't want to mess with." Anti leaned back in his chair.

"W̵e'l͠l ̧s̵ee҉. ̀A̛ny͞way, ͘I ͞shouldn't̀ be ̢I͝'̢m ̛y̛a'lls̢ ҉hai̧r fo̵r̸ l͝o͠ng. E̢i̛th͘er I'll ͏f̀ig̛ur̸e͝ o̷u͘t͏ ho͘w̶ ̢to̕ ̀g̀e̵t ͏home,̛ ͟o͝r m̢y̛ ͘id̕io͝t̢ br͏otḩe̷r̷ wiĺl ̶c̸o͘me ͡f̡or͞ ͜me, e͢i͜th͟er̸ ͞way,̸ I̸ ͜win." Husk shook his head.

"If you say so, just remember what I said, alright?" Anti sighed.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the biscuits." As Husk was about to leave the room, he stopped.

"Oh! And Charlie's having a movie night tonight, said you're invited. Something about giving you a trial run. You coming?" Anti thought about it and shrugged.

"Ah̵, what̷ the̢ he͜ll̕,͘ ҉le̸as̨t ҉I͢ c̷a̢n do ́sinc̕e̸ ̷y͝ou gưy̛ś ar͜e a̡llo̸w͡ing ̶m̢e ͝t͟o s͟ett̕le ͢f̧or ̸a b̛įt." Husk smiled.

"I'll let her know, movie starts at 8:00." Anti nodded and stretched on his chair after Husk left.

"All work and̕ n͠o̧ pla̶y ͝m̀ak̛es̶ A̶ņti ̀w̛a͘n̴t ̸t́o ҉s͞hǫot̴ ̷him̸sȩlf." He groaned with a sigh. He let himself relax with his eyes closed a little while.

"Alrufht! Let's get this movie night started! Did everybody cast their vote?" Charlie held up a hat that had everyone's, but Anti's, vote for a movie. Charlie dug her hand onto the hat and pulled out a slip of paper.

"And tonight's movie is... not that one!" Chairlie tossed the slip behind her back and dug back into the hat. Anti had a raised brow, but judging from the whispering and giggling coming for Husk and Angel, it was probably somewhere around NC-17.

"Here we go! Tonight we're watching Wonder Woman!"

"Yes!" Vaggie cheered as Charlie started the movie and sat next to her. Angel tossed some popcorn ag the two with a pout.

"Boo. You two are no fun." Angel got hushed as the movie began to play. At the beginning, all was calm, but eventually people started whispering to eachother, comments were made. The movie was background noise. But still, it was calm. Sadly, all good things must come to an end.

"I͜ ͠ągrȩe͟ ̨wi̧th̵ Ḑi̴ana͡, i҉f̷ h̀e ͜woul҉d́ ̧h̷av͞e r̢ ̷j̶u̢s҉t͟ le̢t ̢h͟e͢r̶ ̵k̡i҉ll ̴him҉,̵ t̶h̕o͘s͢e͟ p͜e҉o̡ple̛ ͞p͟r͠ob̨ab̀ly ͞wo͢ul̷dn̸'t͠ ̴ha̛ve died͝.̕ ̡K̛f̸ anyt̡hi̕n͠g, k̀i̧lling Ari͠es̷'s ͢#͟1̵ ͝p̀ŕo͏x͡y wo̕uld ҉h͏a͠v͝e̕ ͡ ͟drag͡ge̷d͝ ̷h̷i̶m̵ ̨out ̀f̢ast͏èr." Anti commented, nibbling one some popcorn. Alastor hummed into the silence.

"Yes, the typical conclusion coming from someone like you." Anti stopped, no longer processing the movie, he turned and looked back to the Radio Demon.

"And what does that mean? 'Someone like me'?" All conversations ceased, all eyes now on the two demons. Alastor nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

"Only someone who lacks flair and class would say that. Sure, she could have killed Aries's proxy, bringing the final battle closer than expected, but then we would have lost the crucial moment where out two 'lovers' have their spat. Though, I suppose only someone with a higher knowledge could understand that." Anti growled and turned his body around at Alastor. The Radio Demon eyed him curiously before watching Antis knife appeared in hand.

"That's̶ it͏! ͟I've h͜a͜ḑ ͝i̡t̷ ͟w͝it̀h ̶yo̶u!" Before Alastor could make any knife of rebuttal, Anti pounced. Nifty, Husk, and Angel ducked for cover as Anti pinned Alastor to the ground, knife raised. Alastor's smile tutner sinister as his tentacles shot Antk flying back towards the wall. Alastor stood and chuckled as Antk pulled himself from the wall.

"Then let the games begin!"

"Not inside the hotel! Please!" Charlie pleased and Alastor hummed.

"Yes, you're right. Let hs travel outside, of you can't wait that-" The shattering of glass interrupted Alastor as both demons were launched through the window. All of the hotel attendees walked over to the window to watch. Angel whistled.

"Well Charlie, this may be your greatest movie night yet!' Angel punctuated his statement with some popcorn. Charlie looked from Angel to outside and swallowed. Oh boy.

END OF PART 1!!! This thing is way too long for only one part. Please enjoy this and i shall finish it soon!

[maxwell-grant]

Would you consider Hugo Strange a pulp villain?

Yes. And I would argue that he didn't really stop being one even after his revival.

"Professor Hugo Strange, the most dangerous man in the world! Scientist, philosopher and a criminal genius - little is known of him, yet this man is undoubtly the greatest organizer of crime in the world! - Bruce Wayne, Detective Comics #36

Hugo Strange was created with the intention of being Batman's arch-enemy right from the start, introduced as such by Bruce when he figures out he's responsible for the G-man assassination, pretty explicitly intended to be Batman's Moriarty and with even an equivalent demise. He was big enough to tower over his henchmen and fistfight Batman, he had a uniquely deformed skull, he was both a charismatic but threatening crimelord as well as a mad scientist plotting to TAKE OVER THE WORLD, and I've heard before the argument that the Monster Men were taken from a Doc Savage novel released earlier the same year called The World's Fair Goblin that revolves around a giant mutated man doing crimes under command by the story's villain

That poor devil, Maximus, was a Fair visitor himself, once. He was given injections of thyroxine and adrenalin—and changed rapidly into a pituitary giant. But, in the experiment, his will power was destroyed. Now he only follows the directions of that masked devil who has him hypnotized

He said, "The Man of Tomorrow stuff was merely publicity to draw the Fair crowds—and a shield to cover your own experiments. But the masked surgeon cashed in on it. Obviously he is mad enough to really believe a superman can be created." - The World's Fair Goblin

(Considering Lester Dent had taken potshots at Superman explicitly in "Whisker of Hercules", it's not unlikely that this is an explicit reference)

Although there's really no overlap in the stories besides that, as The World's Fair Goblin only had one giant where as Hugo mutated a couple dozen mentally ill patients to create monsters and then used them to go on mass murdering rampages, because Batman has always been over-the-top. But, yeah, original form Hugo was a pretty cut and dry pulp villain, like most of Batman's villains who debuted prior to 1940. Which is part of why he only had about 3 appearences before they killed him off.

By this point, Batman was in the process of moving away from his pulp knock-off origins into more of his own character, with the introduction of Robin and Dick Tracy cartoon villains that would set the tone for the rest of Batman in the Golden Age, and with the debut of Joker and Catwoman in Batman #1, Hugo was already obsolete as an arch-enemy, and was killed off the following appearence.

Of course, if you know Hugo Strange, you likely already know this, and that he was then revived in the 70s by Marshall Rogers with a brilliant take that stuck to the character's origins as a brilliant crimelord and scientific genius, but also added to him a specifically twisted psychological bent of being obsessed with Batman and becoming Batman, a villain of unshakeable will and even a twisted sense of honor and ethics, refusing to divulge Batman's secret identity even while beaten to death.

And from that moment onwards Hugo would go on to have some of the most consistently brilliant appearences out of any Batman villain (at least until the 2010s) and would secure himself as a mainstay, albeit a very obscure one, figure of Batman, the kind of villain whose plots can range from Born Again-esque subtle destructions of a person's life to a rampage of mutant kaijus on downtown Gotham, and like many of the best Batman villains, it all comes back to a central obsession and psychological edge upon Batman, and the weaponizing and destruction of anything that stands in his way.

You could argue Hugo Strange used to be a cut and dry pulp villain who was eventually reimagined as a Batman Villain, and it would even be somewhat fitting of his in-universe trajectory as a man who started out a career as a figure of prestige and respect, effortlessly able to blend in society, until his repeated encounters with Batman and, most importantly, his gradually increasing obsession with becoming Batman, gradually destroyed him until he's no longer the one ruling the madhouse, but instead trapped in it.

But the reason why I'd argue Hugo Strange is still a Pulp Villain is because his reinventions didn't shed away what he used to be, they merely returned him to his true origins. Because Hugo, you see, is not just a Mad Scientist or Mad Psychologist, Batman's got those by the dozens. Hugo is of a particularly nasty kind of Pulp Villain, who came to existence around the same time as the Mad Scientist if not slightly earlier, an archetype Jess Nevins has named The Evil Surgeon

Medicine has arguably thrown up more serial killers than all the other professions put together, with nursing a close second - Herbert Kinnel, former chairman of the British Medical Association

The Evil Surgeon came to existence as a pop culture archetype in the late 19th century, as the result of serial killers like Jack the Ripper and H.H Holmes making the news, with Doctor Quartz from Nick Carter being first and foremost among these, as the main arch-enemy of the most published character worldwide at the time.

He would be followed years later by H.G Wells's Doctor Moreau, and the likes of Dr Caresco and Professor Tornada, the stars of novels created by André Couvreur, who was himself a medical doctor and used these novels to both condemn the characters as well as give serious consideration to the ideas they explored, and depicted Dr Caresco's over-the-top exploits harkening back to stories about Marquis de Sade (the origin of the term "sadist"). These would be followed by characters like Grigorii Trirodov, Dr Cornelius Kramm, Dr Gogol from Mad Love, currently the most famous example of this seems to be Hannibal Lecter. And Hugo has been operating much more along the lines of those characters in the last decades, than the typical mad scientists he was once designed in reference to.

Of course there's a massive overlap between the two and room to dispute whether they even constitute separate archetypes, they practically came to existence together following the footsteps of Victor Frankenstein, who really isn't a true example of a Mad Scientist in the original novel, and wasn't even a real doctor, but Frankenstein's reputation undeniably is the oldest cultural touchstone we can point to as an influence in the archetype, even if said archetype would only truly take form in pulp magazines and serials.

What I'd argue defines the Evil Surgeon as an archetype specifically, is that they are specifically centered around the violation and destruction of the human body and function more as murderers with budgets, than supervillains in labcoats. Mad Scientists are generally more centered around plots closer to sci-fi/fantasy inventions like sentient robots and immortality potions used for large scale global domination, where as Evil Surgeons are more preoccupied with wielding psychology and torture and criminal resources to get away with destroying minds on more individual scales, or turning cities into slaughterhouses for them to work in.

They aren't quite full blown slasher villains, like Zsasz or Professor Pyg, instead they usually tend to be quite good at passing off as respectable, mentally sound figures of moral standing, and usually possess a sense of purpose towards their work, a goal they are working for by piling corpses atop each other and moving resources to achieve, even if said goal is a purely selfish fulfillment of their own desires. It's quite common for these characters to acquire large bases for them to operate in, even islands specifically.

In Caresco Surhomme, Caresco has taken control of the Pacific island of Eucrasia. Caresco applies his surgical methods to the inhabitants of the island, altering them to better do their jobs. The captain of the plane which brings outsiders to Eucrasia is a limbless trunk with telescopic vision. Even the island itself is in the shape of a human body. The natives of Eucrasia are addicted to various sensual pleasures and generally submit to Caresco’s rule, for fear that he will castrate them or worse.

On Eucrasia, Caresco makes use of “omnium,” a mysterious and unexplained power source, to create: a machine capable of stripping the years from human bodies and reversing the aging process, a fast underground train system, food pills, omnium-powered diving suits, and so on. Caresco is given to such things as collecting the spleens of all those he operates on - Jess Nevins, The Encyclopedia of Pulp Heroes

So, yes, I absolutely would argue Hugo Strange is still a Pulp Villain. Pulp villains do come in many different forms other than the Fu Manchus and Fantomases that are most commonly imitated, pulp was the breeding ground of the supervillain as a concept after all, where they got to star in their own magazines time and time again. Hugo started off as a fairly generic one, and when he's written poorly, he tends to be brought onboard of a story purely because it calls for a mad scientist.

But Strange came back from death as something much, much worse than just a crimelord and mad scientist, a much more rare and much nastier type of villain that, much like Hugo himself, may lie dormant, but refuses to stay dead for long.

"Quincy. My servant. My friend," Hugo said. "We don't have much time."

Quincy was crying again, with joy. "How, master, how did you-?"

The therapy, Quincy realized. The hypnosis. The drugs.

"Stay with me master, please!" Quincy tried to grab hold a phantom hand.

"I cannot." Strange said, looking benevolently down at Quincy, stroking his hair with a touch the prisoner couldn't feel. "But there is one last service you can perform me."

"Anything, Hugo, please."

"First, remove the sheet from your bed, Quincy. And tie it to the light-fixture on the ceiling."

[lovejustforaday]

Sonic Youth Albums Ranked (Part 3)

6. Sister (1987)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Alternative Rock, Post-Punk

A decent sampling of: Experimental Rock

This is the first LP in the Sonic Youth discography accessible enough to be labelled a true ‘Alternative Rock’ record. It’s still rough around the edges, but Sister is full of catchy hooks and thrilling guitar sounds. I feel like this record and Daydream Nation probably went on to spawn at least 200 new alternative rock bands by the time the 90s came around (not that I was there to see it or anything, just speculation).

Sister deserves a lot of credit for solidifying on tracks like “Catholic Block” and “Stereo Sanctity” what would become the dominant formula for the band’s sound throughout most of the rest of their discography. I think that's part of the reason why this is Sonic Youth’s second most acclaimed and beloved record. Perhaps some fans would even be downright offended that I only put this at #6 on the list, but trust me when I say that this is only because the band has made so many fantastic records. In fact, for most bands, this would easily be their greatest record.

I can still remember the first time I heard the opening to “Schizophrenia”, I had never heard anything quite like it. The guitars sound upbeat yet worn out and dejected, making me feel isolated and almost spiritually weak when I listen to this track, yet somehow also comforted. The song is partially inspired by Kim’s older brother who has schizophrenia, though the roles are reversed in this song with a brother whose sister is schizophrenic. It’s a deeply fascinating and memorable piece, and I can see why many fans consider this to be a top five Sonic Youth track.

Most of the rest of Sister is very scratchy and punkish with some very tight guitar work, like “Catholic Block” which boasts one of my favourite melodic riffs in the Sonic Youth canon. There’s also “Hot Wire My Heart”, another major highlight and a cover of the obscure British punk band Crime, where Sonic Youth takes their song and upgrades the guitars and drums while also adding a bold wall of feedback at the end.

Then there’s “Pacific Coast Highway”, a completely sickening song and one of Kim’s very finest moments as a lyricist and vocalist. This haunting noise rock jumble tells the story of either a unhinged stranger, or perhaps a resentful ex-lover, who is obsessively catcalling the listener from their car, with the not-so-subtle implication that you’re all by yourself somewhere and that this person intends to harm you. I have no idea if this was written about a personal experience, but I do know from listening to their voices that this is something many women have either gone through or live in perpetual fear of. Seriously fucked up stuff, but also one of Sonic Youth’s very best tracks.

"Cotton Crown” is an odd one out in the Sonic Youth discography; an uncharacteristically sincere but still off-kilter love song that Kim and Thurston sing as a duet. Their voices are a bit out of tune with each other, but i think that honestly fits the Sonic Youth aesthetic and it’s sweet in its own quirky way, although very bittersweet decades later with hindsight about the fate of their relationship. Sort of a noise rock lullaby almost, maybe even with hints of early shoegaze.

Sister does a really good job of taking the seemingly juxtaposing ideas of the ‘fun’ and the ‘grotesque’ and fuses them together. This album is both largely exciting and still somehow alienating and depressive. It’s textbook Sonic Youth, really. I will say that the best tracks are clustered together with a noticeably weaker middle portion, but really this is still a consistently great record throughout. Altogether, Sister is one of the many entries in the band’s discography from 1986 through 1990 where Sonic Youth could basically do no wrong. A classic record.

9/10

highlights: “Pacific Coast Highway”, “Schizophrenia”, ‘Catholic Block”, “Cotton Crown”, “Hot Wire My Heart”, “Beauty Lies in the Eye”

5. A Thousand Leaves (1998)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Experimental Rock

A decent sampling of: Alternative Rock, Post-Rock, Neo-Psychedelia

I’m just gonna say this now: A Thousand Leaves is by far Sonic Youth’s most underrated record. It’s also the last truly amazing record that the band ever put out. Maybe it’s just the bizarre choice of an album cover that turns people off of this LP. Really, what the hell were they going for here with the minimalist hamster vibes? The beautiful title really suggests something a lot more visually stunning.

In all seriousness though, I feel like nobody talks about this one because it’s overshadowed by its predecessor Washing Machine, but if there’s one area that this record exceeds above all other Sonic Youth LPs, it’s that it perfectly captures that mellow feeling that the later Sonic Youth albums were inclined towards. Not a lot of Sonic Youth records put me at ease like this one does.

Likewise, this is maybe the most ‘feel-good’ record in their discography along with Murray Street. But where Muray Street is something you could put on in the background and enjoy pretty modestly, A Thousand Leaves is a largely experimental, out-of-body experience that pulls you into its surreal, flowery, evergreen world.

“Contre Le Sexism” is a perfect opener for this kind of record; this quiet daze of a waking dream is both dainty and delirious, alluding to Alice in Wonderland with Kim’s vocals never before sounding so gentle and bright. I swear I start to hear a door creak at the end. Maybe that’s the sound of stepping out into the rest of A Thousand Leaves.

What follows immediately after is “Sunday” which is actually one of the band’s poppiest moments, making it somewhat of an outlier on this highly avant-garde and immersive record. But the warm spring vibes of the melody fits right in. The wall of sound introduced during the bridge is a soft mesmerizing bliss more akin to a band like My Bloody Valentine, if not for the tiny distant screeches of atonality whirling around here and there. As a big fan of both bands, I’m all for this kind of sound.

“Wildflower Soul” is easily one of the best things Sonic Youth has ever written. Endless amounts of creativity are poured into this nine minute noise rock acrobatics performance along with a lyrical ode to love, nature, and childhood. The vibes of this one are really quite jaw-dropping given the fact that these are the same guys who wrote “Schizophrenia” and “Death Valley ‘69″. There’s such unison and harmony in the band’s performance here as they switch between different bpm and even time signatures, and the usage of the heavy phaser effect towards the end sounds nothing short of godlike. "Wildflower Soul” almost feels like an entire album experience in one song, and I’m beyond impressed every time I listen to it.

This makes for a hard act to follow, but A Thousand Leaves still has plenty of other highlights. “French Tickler” is a strange and satisfying track that switches back and forth between a playful melody and churning, stretchy distortion. “Karen Koltrane” is a murky but textured portrait of Lee Renaldo’s ex-girlfriend, who got addicted to hallucinogens and became heavily withdrawn from the rest of the world. “Snare, Girl” is a soothing spell where Thurston sounds like he’s trying to coax the listener into a never-ending slumber.

My only real complaint here is “Hits of Sunshine (For Allen Ginsberg)”, a lackadaisical jam session that sounds cool enough, but really overstays its welcome given the lack of development it achieves over its eleven minute run time. It’s a nice piece to vibe to, but it very noticeably disrupts the album’s flow. Take this one track away entirely, or even just edit it down severely, and this would probably be a 10/10 record for me.

Still, wow what a cool album. A Thousand Leaves is a great example of why I respect this band so much. Even this late into their career, Sonic Youth were willing to try so many new bizarre things while also building judiciously upon the foundations of their past work with great attention to detail. I wouldn’t recommend most people start with this one, it’s definitely a bit more challenging especially if you haven’t listened to some other really weird experimental rock records. But once you’re in the right headspace for it, it’s easy to get almost completely lost in A Thousand Leaves.

9/10

highlights: “Wildflower Soul”, “Sunday”, “French Tickler”, “Karen Koltrane”, “Snare, Girl”, “Contre Le Sexism”, “Heather Angel”

4. Goo (1990)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Alternative Rock

A decent sampling of: Experimental Rock, Post-Punk

Goo was my very first Sonic Youth album, and I can definitely still feel some of the old teenage angst that I had at the time whenever I listen to this one. What probably adds to that feeling is the fact that this along with Daydream Nation is one of the two albums in the band’s discography that I’d say possesses a great deal of immediacy. Albums like Sister and A Thousand Leaves are a bit more subtle and they take a while to be fully digested. But this one, this one hit me like a brick wall.

Between “Tunic (Song For Karen)”, “Kool Thing”, and “Cinderella’s Big Score”, Goo is above all others the Sonic Youth record where Kim Gordon is really the star of the band, featuring not one but three of her most captivating songs. Likewise, I would also say that this is Sonic Youth’s most overtly feminist and socially conscious record.

I don’t know if anybody else feels this way, but to me the opener “Dirty Boots” really does sound like “Teen Age Riot” part 2. That’s not a bad thing of course, Sonic Youth making more songs like “Teen Age Riot” could never be a bad thing, and “Dirty Boots” is definitely one of the highlights of Goo with its massive build up of kinetic energy. That being said, I do have to say that I don’t think any song could do this particular kind of album opener better than “Teen Age Riot” already does it, but I still really do enjoy “Dirty Boots”.

“Tunic (Song For Karen)” is one of Sonic Youth’s most poetic and poignant songs. Kim’s sing-talking voice is even more solemn than usual as she takes on a surreal retelling of the final days of drummer/pop star pioneer Karen Carpenter from her perspective, highlighting the severity of her loneliness and the criminal negligence of many of the people around her who let her succumb to her eating disorder. Set to a backdrop of stark and droning alternative rock, I would say that this is possibly the band’s most depressing moment and certainly one of the biggest statements that they ever made.

A lot of the rest of Goo is actually pretty fun though. “Kool Thing” features Chuck D on guest vocals, and its a funny sarcastic take down of the subjugation of women’s voices in supposedly liberated spaces like the world of rock and hip hop, inspired by the time Kim interviewed L.L. Cool J and attempted to have a political conversation. The song mocks L.L.’s attitude towards women while also poking fun at Kim’s own self-perceived elitism. There’s also “Mote”, a sensational head rush that dissolves into noise rock weird-isms, sorta recreating the feeling of going from buzzed to totally black out.

“Mildred Pierce” is almost a practical joke but I kind of love the hell out of it anyway. A short track with lyrics consisting only of the song’s title, it starts with the band getting into a nice little riff before (without warning) bursting into a hardcore punk cacophony as Thurston screams the name over and over into the listener’s ears. Made me jump the first time I heard it.

And then there’s “Cinderella’s Big Score”. If “Schizophrenia” vaguely hinted at Kim’s estranged relationship with her older brother, then “Cinderella’s Big Score” confronts it dead on. Featuring some of the band’s most totally insane and disfigured guitar work ever, this song sounds harsh and militant, like the dawn of a nuclear cataclysm. It’s very hard to believe that Kim is 37 years old here; she reverts to sounding exactly like a hurt teenage little sister, rebelling against her childhood trauma and lashing out at her brother’s past bullying and now his cold indifference towards her.

The song grapples with some very painful emotions, but the experience is raw and cathartic. “Cinderella’s Big Score” is definitely somewhere in Sonic Youth’s top 10 tracks for me; it just doesn’t get any realer than this. Honestly, the record could’ve ended here. I like “Titanium Expose” enough as a closer, but this would’ve made a really powerful and lasting impression to end the album.

Despite that, Goo is an excellent Sonic Youth record that demonstrates just how much the band had mastered their craft after a decade of making all sorts of noises. Obviously I’m biased since it was my own first Sonic Youth record, but I really do feel like this is the very best place to start with the band. Goo is one of their more melodic and accessible offerings, but it’s also one of their most provocative records and it really captures the essence of Sonic Youth’s identity.

9/10

highlights: “Cinderella’s Big Score”, “Tunic (Song For Karen)”, “Mote”, “Kool Thing”, “Dirty Boots”, ‘Mildred Pierce”

3. EVOL (1986)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Experimental Rock, Post-Punk

A decent sampling of: No Wave, Alternative Rock

If Bad Moon Rising was bleak and desolate, than EVOL is disturbed, uncanny, and deeply paranoid. Sonic Youth’s third record evokes the feeling of being all alone at midnight on a sketchy highway, complete with mental images of flickering street lights and looming shadowy figures. I mentioned earlier that I have to be in the right mood to enjoy Bad Moon Rising, but this record puts me in the right mood almost instantly whenever I put it on.

EVOL isn’t exactly a no wave album like their first two records. The highly experimental influence is still there, but the arrangements are starting to sound fuller and more intentional.

You could say that this LP marks somewhat of a transitional phase between Sonic Youth the no wave band and Sonic Youth the alternative rock band, and in many respects it has the best of both worlds. There’s a few catchy darker alternative rock songs here and there, sandwiched between tracks that could best be described as ‘mad scientist’ music, which altogether creates a varied and unique album experience.

“Tom Violence“ immediately establishes the tone of EVOL with crooked, scraping flashes of post-punk guitars. This track reminds me of heads hung low, bodies slouched uncomfortably, and the feeling of being completely wide awake at 2:00 am. There’s something very unfriendly that lurks beneath the dissonance of these sounds.

If “Tom Violence” is uneasy, then “Shadow of A Doubt” is an auditory nightmare, managing to capture something akin to the fear of being watched by an unknown stranger hiding in the shadows. Notes are gently plucked like icy cold fingers slowly crawling up the listener’s back while Kim whispers about murder plots and oneirophrenia. The “just a dream” lyrical motif is first uttered reassuringly, but eventually turns into a desperate plea as Kim begins to shout frantically and the music intensifies.

The album dials down the spook factor a few notches with “Starpower” and “In The Kingdom #19″. The former is an early example of Sonic Youth’s ability to combine melodic hooks with meandering chaos that would become refined on the next few LPs, while the latter features Lee’s first solo vocals (and one of his best performances) reciting a lucid, jet black vision of a car accident. Thurston threw firecrackers into the recording studio when they did Lee’s vocals on this track and you can hear it in the recording, and just like “Mildred Pierce” it really caught me off guard the first time I heard it.

“Secret Girl” is the scariest fucking thing in the whole Sonic Youth discography, and also just one of the scariest songs I’ve ever heard. It starts with a deep shuddering thud that sounds like it’s getting closer and closer. Then out of nowhere, a cassette-recording of an old detuned piano starts to play a simple, unnerving refrain while Kim offers a cryptic and uncomfortably suggestive spoken word piece. It feels like a scene that might play out in a horror film, where a television screen comes on by itself and the person on the screen begins to talk directly to the viewer.

Finally, there’s “Expressway To Yr Skull” (alternatively titled “Madonna, Sean, and Me”), which would be my #1 Sonic Youth album closer if not for the #1 album on this list. That being said, this song is still one of the biggest highlights of the band’s career. "Expressway To Yr Skull” starts off restless and spectacular, leading up to an utterly earth-shaking climax, and then it’s as if the song promptly dies, only to become a lingering undead entity that pulls you down with it. I still can’t get over how the ending really manages to sound like it’s dragging you down further and further into its barren depths.

To add to that, there’s actually a locked groove on the original vinyl release of this LP that plays the last little bit of “Expressway To Yr Skull”, meaning that if you let the needle sit there, it will forever loop that last little bit of droning at the end of the track. I really appreciate this little detail; it’s as if the pervasive darkness of EVOL is so encompassing that it could turn into a deep midnight that never ends.

EVOL is honestly so close to being a 10 for me, but just like Sister I find that it is decently weaker towards the middle. Still, I’m absolutely enamored with the atmosphere on this album. No gothic rock record has ever managed to sound so deeply unsettling to my ears like this little experimental record does. You really just have to experience this one for yourself. Honestly, don’t be surprised if in a year or two I’ve changed my mind and bumped this one to a 10.

9/10

highlights: “Expressway To Yr Skull”, “Shadow Of A Doubt”, “Tom Violence”, “Secret Girl”, “In The Kingdom #19″, “Starpower”

[mrsjadecurtiss]

Another ask, if you have the inclination: I've just been rereading Reek III with all that entails, and Theon thinks about 'the son is just the shadow of the father' re Roose and Ramsay. Do you believe that Roose can actually be as bad or worse than Ramsay at this point? He's got to be worse than average and his morals very lacking, but it's hard to imagine us being made to abhor him more than Ramsay in the remaining books. Is it just Theon's terrified paranoia, or do you think it can pay off somehow? 🤔 Or am I misinterpreting that line do you think?

Do you believe that Roose can actually be as bad or worse than Ramsay at this point? He's got to be worse than average and his morals very lacking [...].

This is a trap, he is playing with you, the son is just the shadow of the father. Lord Ramsay played with his hopes all the time. - Reek III, aDwD

This is no man to jape with. You had only to look at Bolton to know that he had more cruelty in his pinky toe than all the Freys combined. - Reek III, aDwD

I believe quotes like these refer to the effect of the cruelty they enact, rather than the specific crimes.

Ramsay is vile and cruel, enacting heinous violence upon people like a slasher movie villain. We do not have any evidence that Roose personally inflicts the same degree of crass violence upon people, as even in his presumably candid retelling of the miller's wife story, while a horrifying and inexcusable crime, he does not reach the extreme level of violence Ramsay inflicts upon smallfolk on the regular with his hunts and torturings.

"Roose Bolton's cold and cunning, aye, but a man can deal with Roose. We've all known worse. But this bastard son of his … they say he's mad and cruel, a monster." - Davos III, aDwD

The point, i believe, is not who produces the worst feats of violence, but rather another facette of grrms criticism of feudalism:

Would Ramsay even have a chance to do these heinous crimes if his father, who knows about everything, had an ounce of morality in him?

[Roose:] "All you have I gave you. You would do well to remember that, bastard." - Reek III, aDwD

Everything Ramsay has, his high position, the freedom to do all the crimes he wants, the protection from law that would have otherwise sent him to the wall in no time, he has because of his father's selfishness. Roose could have stopped these crimes from happening, he could have given Ramsay the appropriate punishment, instead he keeps Ramsay around because he feels like it...

Roose is at the top of his society, answering to barely anyone except his overlord and his king; so much power is at his fingertips, and yet he uses it for selfish reasons, commits crimes, allows crimes to happen in full knowledge, and everything is handled as it benefits him instead of abiding to morality or law. Every crime Ramsay does is Roose' responsibility as feudal lord and thus his crime.

"When soldiers lack discipline, the fault lies with their lord commander," his father said. - Tyrion VIII, aGoT

Roose is called the leech lord, and indeed he is a leech upon society, bleeding his people dry to his own benefit while not lifting a finger himself. While he is not a literal vampire, obviously parts of his character are a play on vampire myths, and the aristocratic bloodsucking vampire is frequently used as a metaphor for critique of the ruling class (i hear Fever Dream by grrm plays with this, though i have not read it). He might not commit a Texas Chainsaw Massacre in person, but that doesn't make him any less morally bankrupt and despicable, and he still has the same blood on his hands.

There is a tendency where Roose tries to lighten his crimes in conversation - here are three examples showing different facettes:

"The arrogance of it! They do not expect the north to believe their lies, not truly, but they think we must pretend to believe or die. Roose Bolton lies about his part in the Red Wedding, and his bastard lies about the fall of Winterfell." - Davos IV, aDwD

[Roose:] "Tell me, my lord … if the kinslayer is accursed, what is a father to do when one son slays another?" - Reek III, aDwD

[Roose:] "The maesters will tell you that King Jaehaerys abolished the lord's right to the first night to appease his shrewish queen, but where the old gods rule, old customs linger. The Umbers keep the first night too, deny it as they may. Certain of the mountain clans as well, and on Skagos … well, only heart trees ever see half of what they do on Skagos." - Reek III, aDwD

1. Denial of involvement - Roose frequently either escapes blame completely (for example for Duskendale), puts blame on someone else (like blaming Ramsay's bastard blood for Winterfell), or lies about his crimes to evade blame.

2. Selectively invoking law - using the kinslaying law, he pretends his hands are tied when it comes to Ramsay, even though he could for example also send him to the wall as punishment. He frequently breaks laws as he pleases and also took part in breaking sacred contracts such as guest right (red wedding), so him invoking law in this instance is likely a tool to absolve himself of blame during the conversation.

3. Comparing himself to others to lessen his own acts, after failing to escape blame - by bringing the Umbers etc into the conversation, he tries to make himself look less bad; "look, everyone's doing it, and the skagosi are probably even worse than me!"

As opposed to Ramsay, he is aware of how the severity of the crimes he is doing would be received by others. He likes to present himself as a rational and civilized man, and thus has an interest to downplay his criminal actions, even if he does not see anything wrong with them as he did them for his own benefit.

"No tales were ever told of me. Do you think I would be sitting here if it were otherwise?" - Reek III, aDwD

"That annoyed me, so I gave her the mill and had the brother's tongue cut out, to make certain he did not go running to Winterfell with tales that might disturb Lord Rickard." - Reek III, aDwD

As the Mormonts were bannermen to the Starks, [Jorah's] crime had dishonored the north. Ned had made the long journey west to Bear Island, only to find when he arrived that Jorah had taken ship beyond the reach of Ice and the king's justice. - Eddard II, aGoT

The foolish Ramsay tries to pride himself in his crimes; Roose however knows of the importance of optics. He is aware that he frequently breaks the law, and tries his best to keep his reputation intact as to not attract unwanted attention; especially with an overlord like Ned Stark, who would not handwave any crime and would make sure justice is served.

From what we can observe, in my opinion the difference between Roose and Ramsay is that Roose doesn't see anything wrong with comitting violence as long as the result is of a benefit for him, while Ramsay additionally also commits violence because he merely finds enjoyment in inflicting it, violence for violence's sake. This is why Roose is able to control himself and always gives Ramsay the advice to be restrained, but Ramsay is unable and unwilling to do so and his acts are much more extreme. Roose is likely starting to realize this difference by aDwD.

Is it just Theon's terrified paranoia [...]?

I do also believe Theon's statement is fueled by paranoia, if you look at the entire context:

"I mean you no harm, you know. I owe you much and more." - "You do?" Some part of him was screaming, This is a trap, he is playing with you, the son is just the shadow of the father. Lord Ramsay played with his hopes all the time. "What … what do you owe me, m'lord?" - "The north. The Starks were done and doomed the night that you took Winterfell." He waved a pale hand, dismissive. "All this is only squabbling over spoils." - Reek III, aDwD

Roose is not necessarily tricking Theon here since it appears to be a correct statement; And he does have an interest to be on friendly terms with Theon (offering him fresh clothes for example) because he wants to make use of his position as heir to the iron islands, a goal he expressed as early as a Storm of Swords.

"Flaying Theon will not bring my brothers back," Robb said. "I want his head, not his skin." - "He is Balon Greyjoy's only living son," Lord Bolton said softly, as if they had forgotten, "and now rightful King of the Iron Islands. A captive king has great value as a hostage." - Catelyn VI, aCoK

"Serve us in this, and when Stannis is defeated we will discuss how best to restore you to your father's seat," his lordship had said in that soft voice of his, a voice made for lies and whispers. Theon never believed a word of it. - The Prince of Winterfell, aDwD

Note that here Theon does not believe him either, any trust he has shattered by Ramsay as well as Roose' unlikable personality. Still it seems likely Roose was really somewhat trying to be nice with Theon, because as he tries to teach Ramsay there's value in it:

"Power tastes best when sweetened by courtesy. You had best learn that if you ever hope to rule." - Reek III, aDwD

Do you think it can pay off somehow?

This is speculation, but i believe Roose' story is likely headed in the opposite direction - A Storm of Swords featured his greatest villainous feat, the Red Wedding, a showcase of cruelty and treacherousness. I do not think it will be followed up by an act of even greater cruelty; instead i think he will finally reap what he has sown.

Roose Bolton said nothing at all. But Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before — an uneasiness, even a hint of fear.

That night the new stable collapsed beneath the weight of the snow that had buried it. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

I believe the line about the stable is meant as a metaphor for his regime collapsing, as it is put directly after the line where he realizes the situation is growing dire for him.

It all seemed so familiar, like a mummer show that he had seen before. Only the mummers had changed. Roose Bolton was playing the part that Theon had played the last time round, and the dead men were playing the parts of Aggar, Gynir Rednose, and Gelmarr the Grim. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

Roose is likely going to continue the parallel with Theon as his arc goes steadily downwards. He is a foil to Ned; where Ned died but his legacy lives on, Roose will likely live to see his legacy crumble.

There is of course a possibility that he, when cornered, starts expressing more cruelty as a last-ditch effort. We saw the stable used as a metaphor for his rule in Winterfell; but there is another interesting detail about the reconstruction of the burned Winterfell:

Serve well, Lord Bolton told them, and he would be merciful. Stone and timber were plentiful with the wolfswood so close at hand. Stout new gates had gone up first, to replace those that had been burned. Then the collapsed roof of the Great Hall had been cleared away and a new one raised hurriedly in its stead. When the work was done, Lord Bolton hanged the workers. True to his word, he showed them mercy and did not flay a one. - the Prince of Winterfell, aDwD

Aegon the Conqueror had commanded [the Red Keep] built. His son Maegor the Cruel had seen it completed. Afterward he had taken the heads of every stonemason, woodworker, and builder who had labored on it. Only the blood of the dragon would ever know the secrets of the fortress the Dragonlords had built, he vowed. - Catelyn IV, aGoT

This is a crack theory, but perhaps Roose has something up his sleeve when it comes to the newly constructed roof of the Great Hall (a location that features extremely prominently through all of Theon's aDwD Winterfell chapters). Maybe he could make it crash intentionally to bury his treacherous allies or something like that...

I doubt however that he will do Ramsay-style extreme violence, i can't really see a reason and it doesn't appear to be his style. He seems more about cunning than flashy displays.

As always these are not PoV characters, so as long as we don't have a view inside their heads we can never say anything with 100% certainty.

[c-c-cherry]

Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌

*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*

 *looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*

Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.

I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭

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Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)

-Hear me out but KNITTING

-Let this man do some nice calm things please

-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.

-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it

-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports

-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(

-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—

-One thing they do have in common? Erina.

-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)

-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”

-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down

-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it

-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”

-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/

The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:

“Isn’t that meant for girls?”

“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”

“But its—”

“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”

“...”

“We can make it a race.”

And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?

-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.

-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing

-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.

-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)

-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”

-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)

-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his

-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail

Jonathan is very proud :)

Jotaro

-Animals. Is that even a question?

-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT

-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man

-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺

-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind

-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean

-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)

-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together

-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)

-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol

-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG

-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3

-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough

-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud

-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni

-He wears them as a good luck charm :3

Josuke

-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)

-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do

-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know

-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY

-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something

-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??

-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart

-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,

-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke

-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week

-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,

-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room

-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed

-Turns out he’s really good at quest games

-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game

-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”

.

-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar

-Hamon ^-^

-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow

-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon

-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity

-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance

-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers

-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3

-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)

Giorno

-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form

-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea

-Garden buddies!!!! :D

-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)

-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers

-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please

-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally

-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together

-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic

-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3

-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))

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I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(

Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao

[jerichomere]

MBS EPISODE EIGHHHHT

weak. I hate to say it but I could feel it in my heart from the start. It had good moments but this episode just didn’t bring it home. I’m going to break this up into my usual notes and then some general evaluation. Notes: What is the deal with curtain and food? He has so many weird scenes with meals.. there’s probably some hidden meaning here but I don’t know what it is And they didn’t get to chuck-root the school :((((( Constance? Wants to pour acid on curtain’s feet Haha I liked Kate’s little “Nyoope” when the recruiters found her Martina redemption and the fighting tetherball team, sure Jackson and Jillson get even more unhinged. they terrify me We got Kate yeeting Constance up the tower, but her bucket had a built in rope motor somehow WE GOT KATIE-KAT but we didn’t get Sorry it took me so long And Milligan’s still moody instead of joyous Go Constance, break the thing, yay Number Two and Rhonda had some real shippy energy in this episode and PLEASE they are SISTERS Two more close profile shots of curtain in this episode, one where he is physically shorter than Milligan but dominating the interaction, and one where he’s physically looking down at Reynie but Reynie’s getting to him. Reynie has a heart to heart and curtain passes out. That’s different. Sticky even said, “it’s anger” and he was like “no, it’s vulnerability” oooooookay then. The whisperer is not an intercom/loudspeaker. sheesh. So the kiddos leave and the twins talk, resolving nothing, then curtain escapes REYNIE AND MISS PERUMAL NO COMPLAINTS HERE *sobs* Kate and Madge at the end <3 Constance refuses adoption!?!?!?!??! And no age reveal obviously rip Sticky’s family redemption he’s going to the totally not made up Boatwright Academy now Mr Benedict is like, I love you all, no snowball fight, the end. SIKE Curtain, SQ, and a totally real engineer lady are on a BOAT. You know, I felt bad for the engineer this whole series, as she is portrayed as kind of doing the technical work hoping it’ll be used for good, while curtain abuses its practical application, but her mood really shifted in that last scene. She was like heheh hey guy that I know is definitely is evil, howabout this mysterious blueprint... are they really trying to set up the sequel. Some tree branches will have to get pretttty bent.

Evaluation: keep reading! (sorry it gets long)

To recap what I’ve said from the start, I think the casting is fantastic but the tone is wrong. The darker, more saturated filter, the isolating camera shots, and very understated music make things colder and stilted. This is a constant throughout the whole series. The book was warm, messy, and full of charm, which I didn’t feel watching the show.

characters were.. compromised? Mr B starts off with a LIE about test winners going to Boatwright Academy. That undermines EVERYTHING he does from then on. “Regrettable but necessary” DOESN’T cut it. He’s also just so anxious and jittery instead of his gentile, kind, strong book self. Just from the show, they didn’t frame his genius very well. He seems more like a fool. Not really confidence-inspiring. In the same way, Being directed to cheat is one thing, but Reynie should NOT have lied to SQ to manipulate him into seeing the forest or whatever. Yeah reynie felt bad about it and SQ called him on it, but this is like the core values of our protagonist team, the strong love for truth. Also, I feel like in the show Reynie’s leadership isn’t highlighted. Like, everyone else has their thing but you almost wonder why he’s framed as the main character. The girls got bonding and the boys got bonding but there was hardly opportunity for him to really bring the team together into a cohesive unit Also, as much as I love Number Two’s life of crime (because it’s funny), she too should have that love of truth, but instead regularly does unlawful things. AND they never explained her eating, and even stopped having yellow clothes :( Additionally, the side story of her and Rhonda’s friction (entertaining I suppose) also really changed the character dynamic. In the book, the adult team was unwavering and wise, a sturdy basis for the perilous missions of the children. But their internal strife, while adding drama, makes them seem unreliable and less absolutely good and trustworthy. And I think trust and integrity are key parts of the book’s solid narrative. Constance’s refusal of the adoption felt wrong too. She was like, “Respectfully decline, but. I’ll stick around here.” I think they were trying to keep going with her contrariness, but it just comes across as foolish pride? Constance is a LITTLE GIRL. She DESERVES a FAMILY. SHE DESERVES A LOVING PARENT (and two wonderful sisters). Yeah family doesn’t have to be by blood OR lawful paperwork, but her actions in this scene really just. cuts off the feels at the knees. We KNOW she’s strong and independent but that doesn’t mean she HAS TO BE or even necessarily WANTS to be all the time. Over the course of the series we see her warming up to people, a kind word here, a little smile there, but this adoption refusal is.. harsh. Then we’ve got Sticky. Yes, he struggles with the comfort of the whisperer. And he overcomes it. BUT in one of the earlier episodes, they had him fighting with the team, defending the whisperer, dismissing his friends... and I count this as betrayal. It may be extreme on my part, but I think he went too far. The Society is the Society. In the book he bested his fears for them and with their support. Yeah he desperately wanted to just give in but he had PRINCIPLES and knew why he couldn’t. His honor, his responsibility to stop curtain, and his loyalty to his friends got him though. But in the show he just dumped them. And then was like, oh oops jk I’m back. (I knowwwwww the book has the privilege of being able to explain characters’ thought processes and emotional states, while shows have to work with more tangible actions and words but stilll I did not Like That) And finally, curtain wasn’t smart. He had hired people doing all the work. He just used it to his ends. Less evil genius and more manipulating creep. But this? I’m more ok with. As an villain, he got the job done. But this makes him less of a foil for Mr Benedict and more of an antagonist, if that makes sense. In the book they never knew each other, but were both alone in the world and greatly smart, and they chose verrry different paths. Whereas in the show he and B were always kind of opposites, warring in motivation and method from the start.

Let’s talk about the boss battle (such as it was). I said it was weak and I meant it. The book is heart pounding. There is so much going on, and so many people in play, the narration jumping all over the place in real time, all culminating in that clash at the top of the tower. Now, the show... the highs weren’t the highs. It felt more like checking off story points. Kate and constance outside - check. Resist the whisperer to stall for time - check. Milligan reveal - check. Reynie starting to figure out narcolepsy triggers - check. Constance shouting then you are the greatest fool of all - um, no, that didn’t happen. Constance defeating the whisperer - check. Curtain escapes - check. We got zero action. No good fights. I know Emmy Deoliveira is a kid and I’m not mad at her for not being able to do action sequences or run with Constance piggyback. But there was almost no physical conflict on-screen, and that’s Kate’s real time to shine. Also they had Number two and Rhonda in the tower ready to fight and then they just didn’t. All this build up for nothing. Furthermore, and I think this is the biggest problem, there was no momentum. Yeah they cut from scene to scene, but the music and tone cut scene-to-scene too. So there was like, dramatic music, Kate’s ready to fight! Get hyped! and then cut to absolutely silent, mr curtain staring at someone. feel mildly disturbed. and then cut to Rhonda and Number two being friends and ready to fight! Aww! And yay! Get hyped! And then cut back to Sticky sitting in a chair, dead silent. It goes on like this. The music, the urgency, should have carried throughout, building in intensity and desperation as the kids come together and curtain unravels more and more and then BAM! curtain down and OH NO! the whisperer and finally Constance’s “I... DON”T.... CARE!!!” and then the madcap escape from the island. Watching, I just couldn’t get swept away. Storywise, they tied it all up and logically it made sense but the emotional culmination just wasn’t there. It was over and done too quick. It fell flat. I didn’t feel the struggle, the suspense. And then they gave us a fabricated Mr B and Curtain conversation that didn’t really help anything. And then the falling action had some nice moments but as I mentioned, the things with constance and sticky kind of made it feel less relieving, joyful, and sweet. I know a snowball fight is elaborate to set and film but I would have loved to see it.

Final thoughts I can’t help but love the kids. I’ll say it again, I sure liked this casting. And for all the changes they had to make, the original central plot was there, and most of the characters were recognizable even with all the alterations. So I did have problems with some of that underlying integrity, as well as the overall tone and execution, but I also laughed at the little funny things, jammed to the title theme, and was excited to see this, my favorite book in the world, get more recognition. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to adapt a work of prose into an audiovisual medium, and considering how outlandish the book sometimes got, they gave it their best shot. I didn’t love it but I can recognize the accomplishment. In terms of faithful and well-made adaptations, on a scale of Percy Jackson to Harry Potter, I’d give The Mysterious Benedict Society a 6.5/10.

[hains-mae]

Flowers - Pt. 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (end)

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays.

It just got worse.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

The convention hall was huge. The lights shone brightly at the many innovative inventions made by the young minds of Gotham City. the entire city was invited to participate after all. As Wayne Enterprise made the whole event international, we had guests from all over the globe looking for potential students to take under their wing. Rumour has it that everyone on the guest list was hand picked by the man, Bruce Wayne, himself.

I looked around in a daze as I clutched the metal briefcase that held my project.

Running in an hour or two of sleep and caffein, I made my way through the growing crowd. Finally I was able to locate my designated table, a small booth in the chemistry section. I made quick work on unpacking the projector and placed it square on a folding table. It would play the presentation of what my project was about and all the necessary details to explain the chemical compounds and a quick scanned blueprint.

“I feel so nervous.” I mumbled to no one in particular.

Then placing a black cloth on the table as my workspace, I made sure to put the specifically designed gun carefully on a stand that I had quickly melded together. The projectiles rested in the container. Only two remained. I stared at it for a while as the scene of that fateful night replayed in my head.

I had found my soulmate.

Which was good.

He was Robin.

Which was bad.

There was a chance he could be Damian Wayne.

Which was worse.

This relationship was doomed from the start. My soulmate was a freaking vigilante! He was running around at night, putting his life in danger. Death was a constant in my mind after that. Knowing that one day I might loose him. It was a weird thing, this soulmate bond that we shared. Somehow meeting him solidified his existence in my life. Now every time I received another flower on my skin I would know what might’ve caused it. Worry started to form in my gut as I thought about the bullet wound in his shoulder.

I shook my head to get any more lingering thoughts out as I willed myself to focus on the task at hand. I needed to get my head in the game.

Pulling the beakers and flasks out as carefully as I could, I placed them each on the other side of the table. I filled them with their chemicals and started the burner. I had wanted to show them the process as a prototype. I doubted anybody here wanted to be encased in rock.

I was so deep in thought as I mindlessly tinkered around to keep my hands busy that I didn’t even realise a figure standing before me until he cleared his throat.

Looking up from my notes my eyes grew wide.

Mr. Bruce Wayne, owner and CEO of the Wayne Enterprises was standing at my table. He had a charming smile plastered on his face.

��My, what an interesting piece we have here. Don’t you agree Damian?” His voice was calm and even.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

“I do, father.” He agreed. His eyes caught mine, and all I could do was stare into his green orbs.

“Oh forgive me.” Mr. Wayne chuckled and held out his hand. “Bruce Wayne.”

I returned the gesture and shook his hand telling him my own name.

“Pleasure to meet you.” He said. “And this is my son, Damian.”

“We met.” He said simply, but still took my hand and shook it.

“I’m really interested in your work.” Mr. Wayne continued. “I’d like to come back after I make the opening speech.”

“Of course.” I plastered on the best smile I could muster.

It wasn’t too long after that when Mr. Wayne came back, but this time he had an entourage. To his right he had his sons, all 4 of them. They were exactly as the magazines showed and described them to be. Each one was dashing. I didn’t know much about them, but hearing their names tossed around every day in school made me involuntarily learn anyway.

Richard, the eldest had a polite smile and kind blue eyes. They were warm in a comforting way and his manners were that of a well bred socialite. He waved at some of the students and nodded at a few of the adults he passed.

The one beside him was Jason, his cold glare could strike fear into anyone’s hearts. Especially when he is backed up with high status and money. No one dared mess with him. But even I had to admit there was a certain charm to his features, he had a bad boy kind of vibe.

Tim was next, walking just a few steps ahead of his older brothers. His nose was buried in an iPad and his fingers were flying through the screen at top speed. He was just a few years older than me, and I’ve actually seen him around the campus before, but I never met him.

Lastly, Damian. He stole a glance at me as they walked towards my table and turned to Tim, mumbling something before looking ahead.

To Mr. Wayne’s left were two well renowned chemists that I personally follow. Their works and research papers were incredible, it was actually the basis of my own invention. Instantly the butterflies in my stomach fluttered around.

After introductions were made, I presented my work and did a sample test before leading their attention to the finished product which were the glowing orbs.

“And what inspired you to create such an invention?” Mr. Wayne inquired.

“I just wanted to help.” I said truthfully. “We’re aware of the crimes around our city, and I thought it would make the job of catching the criminals easier.”

“And it will.” He smiled. “I’d like to offer you an internship in my company. And if you wouldn’t mind, a mentorship with my two top scientists there.”

“It would be an honour!”

This had to be the greatest moment of my life. For the first time that day I felt my mood get better.

The rest of the days passed on in a blur. My invention was one of the top picked topics in the scene, much to my pleasure, and the interview for the internships and mentorships went well. I honestly couldn’t ask for more.

Mr. Wayne’s secretary handed me, and a couple of other students he scouted, a form to fill out and sign. Our parents/legal guardians were immediately informed and the school assured them before any action is taken they will be holding another meeting. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Many of us were able to grab great opportunities, both in and out of the cities.

I looked around and saw all the doors opening up for the next generation in Gotham. Happy smiles and excited chatter filled the room. Promises of a greater future were announced. I realised, this was probably history in the making. This would be where everything turns around for the better. I might sound overly sentimental, and perhaps a tad bit exaggerated, but I was feeling hopeful.

The interviews were over, and after the last of them had been held, the announcement came to remind us of the upcoming gala. We had an entire day to prepare – “Therefore, use it wisely.” Our professor advised.

Many of the girls had rushed out in groups (with a teacher chaperone) as they headed towards the fancy boutiques and malls. I on the other hand decided to be practical. My roommate and a couple of friends that I had made during my stay, required it be essential that I tag along with them. I was peer pressured (and I say that lightly), but it felt good to explore the city without the danger.

“Oh my god I just saw the Wayne brothers!” Someone squealed at the store front that we were in.

“What? No way! Where?” Another piqued.

We heard the teacher sigh and ask us not to make a scene since we were in public. I felt myself tense at the thought of him and his green eyes.

“They’re heading this way!”

I dove behind one of the clothing hangers and hid as best as I could. Good lord, is this some kind of drama series? My new friends sputtered out a greeting as I imagined them walking by, and all I could do was concentrate on not self-combusting.

“Y/n?”

My eyes darted up from the spot on the floor that I was staring at. I didn’t want to come out, but the longer I stayed behind the wall of clothes, the more embarrassed I became. With a defeated sigh, I walked out.

“H-hey.” I waved lamely.

“What were you doing behind the clothes rack?” Damian cocked a brow at me.

“I was looking at it, kinda the reason I came here.” I said, not really meaning to sound defensive but it came out that way anyway, and I already wanted to take it back.

“You’re that girl with the blue marbles.” The eldest said smiling broadly. “Y/n L/n, right?”

I nodded meekly.

Dick smirked and went back to his smoothie.

“The one Damian wouldn’t shut up about?” Jason teased wickedly. I felt my blood rise up to my face.

Damian kicked him behind his knees which only made the man laugh.

“You know better than to tease.” Tim rolled his eyes at his brothers antics. “You’re embarrassing him in front of his crush.”

I just wished the floor would swallow me whole right now.

Tim immediately hid behind Dick and the laughter was nearly uncontrollable from his brothers. Damian was currently fuming, and tomato red in the face.

“I’m going to kill you Drake.” He said through clenched teeth.

Dick groaned. “Cant you guys behave?” He strolled over to me and tapped my shoulder lightly. “You’re embarrassing y/n.”

“Sorry, it was just meant for lil-D over here.” Jason apologised.

“Alright boys, that’s enough.” The teacher called out. “We’ve got a schedule to follow. I’ll have to cut this meeting short.” She was right, and I was so thankful at the moment that we did.

Dick apologised again, and pushed his brothers to move along. As soon as they were out of earshot the girls bombarded me with questions, demanding they know the details. There wasn’t anything to tell, since I’ve only known them as long as the length of this trip, but they didn’t let the subject go. I thanked my lucky stars that the rumours I heard about the boys and their fanatic fangirls did not exist in the group I was in. They had gushed about how lucky I was to catch their eye – I really wish they didn’t – and how amazing it must be for them to hold an interest in me – I honestly could care less. But girls being girls, I had to let them be.

The evening  of the gala arrived faster than I anticipated, and true to their promise, the girls had all squeezed themselves into my room.

“You guys really don’t have to do this.” I said, slightly exasperated.

“Nonsense.” They quipped back. “We’re all going to look fabulous and make a great impression.”

They rolled out their brush pouches and stacked their make up on the vanity table. I eyed it all wearily.

Sometimes I had to hand it them, females can be terrifying when they need to be.

“Do you think this will be it?” One of them asked out of the blue. “Is this what is going to turn this city around.”

“I hope so. Thing’s are getting worse around Gotham, if this works, we can secure a safer future.”

“Look at us sounding diplomatic.” We laughed at that.

“I think it’ll work out.” I told them with an air of confidence. I saw the looks everyone had at the gatherings. It wasn’t just hope. There was a sense of motivation. An active decision in every one of them that wanted to strive for more. It was encouraging and empowering.

We all shared a unanimous agreement and continued on preparing.

I wasn’t joking when I said I would be practical. I pulled out one of my mothers old gowns from a battered box that was hidden deep under my suitcase. It was off white, with a few hints of lavender and creamy grey. The dress was long-sleeved, made with loose and flowy material. The collar tapered upwards and into a modest keyhole neckline. On my waist rested a silver strap embezzled with crystals. It’s length reached the floor and the slightest movement swayed in the wind. It made me look like I was floating.

As we made our way to the entrance of the gala, men in black suit tailcoats took our coats and opened the grand doors. I was in shock at the beauty of the room.

The entire ceiling look painted on by Michelangelo, in between hung massive sparkling chandeliers. The windows were from ceiling to floor and draped in expensive red velvet curtains. I gazed in awe at the marbled floor that were polished so well we could see our reflection from it.

Light music hummed tastefully in the air as my friends were whisked off by the boys for a dance.

“Y/n!” A savvy voice called out from across the crowd. Turning around I found the Wayne brothers around a table. I managed a wave.

They waved back and invited me over. How could I refuse? Steeling my nerves, I walked towards them.

“Good evening.” I said politely.

“You look stunning.” Dick complimented. Beside him was a woman with incredibly dazzling red hair, it almost looked like it was on fire. Her bright smile reached up to her green eyes. “This is Kory. Kory Anders. Kory, Y/n.”

She stood up tall and shook my outstretched hand.

“Pleasure.” I said as I introduced myself.

“It is glorious to finally meet you.” She said. “I have heard many things.”

I noted her slight accent and choice of words. She must’ve come from another country.

“All good I hope.” I chuckled nervously.

Her smile only widened. “You need not worry.”

“Would you like to sit with us?” Tim offered.

I looked across the dance hall and saw that my friends were already at their own table. I accepted it and sat down at the last seat which was available, and as fate would have it, it was next to Damian.

When I moved to take my place, his perfume infiltrated my senses, leaving me slightly light headed. I pushed my qualms away not wanting to look rude.

“Hello again.” I spoke to him.

Damian nodded, his expression unreadable.

We made small talk, and discussed about the what I should be expecting when I started working at their fathers’ company. They gave me the basic ropes and tried to ease the pressure away.

Then the topic moved to my invention. I told them how I actually got the idea from my dad, they found it honourable in a way. I felt a sense of pride blossom.

Jokes went around as the food was being served. I quickly learnt Dick had the worst case of pun-overdrive, yet it still had me giggling because of how bad it was. Jason was not any better at his come backs to his brothers play on words. They made quiet the duo. Kory laughed heartily between them. Tim and Damian were taking turns lightly jabbing one another, it was almost endearing. As I looked at them from where I sat I couldn’t help but miss the simpler times my family and I shared.

The melody from the band took a slow turn and I saw Dick stand up.

“May I have this dance?” He offered his hand to Kory and exaggerated a bow.

“I would be delighted.” She giggled and let herself be swept onto the dance floor.

I watched as they danced to a slow waltz. Her hands were on his neck as his was kept firmly on the small of her back. They looked lovely together.

“That’s my cue.” Jason spoke up, his eyes gazing the crowd for what I assume was a possible dance partner.

Tim followed shortly behind, but not without leaving us with a wink and tap on his nose.

Damian cleared his throat, breaking my reverie.

He stood and offered his hand. “Would you like to dance?”

I blinked at him, surprised that he actually asked. I gingerly put my hand on his and nodded.

He expertly sashayed us to the middle and twirled me around before moving us to the rhythm of the music.

“You’re good.” I should’ve known he was a skilled dancer.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He replied.

His scent was overwhelming, especially being this close to him. I reminded myself that his boy could very well be Robin.

Robin, the vigilante. I sighed inwardly. How could I have forgotten? But if he was then… My hand that was on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly as I remembered the gun shot.

“Is everything okay?” Damian asked, squeezing my hand.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” I lied. The urge to just ask him never felt so powerful until this moment.

It’s not your place to know. I scolded myself for being presumptuous. This could all have been a big misunderstanding on my part, and I could very well upset him if I asked, not to mention embarrass myself. It wasn’t that I wanted to pry, but the bond I shared with my soulmate only seemed to strengthen these past few days. It drew us closer but I couldn’t begin to explain how. You hugged him, you hugged a stranger – that is a mystery in itself, my inner muse stated.

But then the question of the day was; if he was aware of who I was. There was no way he could possibly tell, there was no proof except for the time I cried out in pain when he got shot. Then again, anyone would’ve screamed if they witnessed that.

I settled with the verdict that he most likely doesn’t know.

“I’d like to apologise about yesterday.” Damian said, sounding solemn. “My brothers have been a thorn to my side ever since I could remember.”

I laughed. “It was embarrassing, but I forgive you, and your brothers.” He visibly relaxed. “It felt like I was reliving some old memories.”

“Do you have siblings as well?”

I shook my head. “No, but it would be nice to. Unfortunately right now it’s just me and my mom. It gets a little lonely but we manage.”

Damian let out a quiet ‘oh’ before lapsing into silence again. I didn’t want to kill the mood so I quickly thought of what to say to keep the conversation going.

“So what about you?” I asked. “I mean, anything you’re comfortable sharing of course.”

The boy sighed and looked up to think before answering.

“I like to paint.” He said. My eyes grew wide at that.

“For real?”

He arched a brow in confusion. “Yes. Is something wrong with that?”

I quickly shook my head again. “No, no of course not. I just, well, it’s surprising. That’s all.”

“Tt, not something you expected?” He teased lightly which only made me surprised all the more.

Was he trying to – flirt?

I laughed. “Guilty as charged.”

Damian looked a little proud of himself.

“What do you like to paint?” I asked curiously.

“Mostly portraits.” He answered easily. “And my pets.”

I gave a fake gasp. “The Damian Wayne, painting his pets. I would never have guessed.”

He smirked.

“So, is it a dog?” I asked.

“Yes, there’s a dog.”

“There’s? Meaning there are more?”

He smirked again this time wider.

“A cat.” I guessed.

He nodded. “Yes there’s a cat too. Though I doubt you’d be able to guess the rest of them.”

Laughing again, I shook my head in disbelief. “You are one intriguing person, Damian Wayne.”

“I could say the same about you.” He told me squarely.

The heat on my cheeks creept up. I looked away a little embarrassed.

He opened his mouth to say something to me, but was cut off.

I heard screams.

Damian quickly pushed me to the ground and shielded me as the glass windows shattered. The shards fell ferociously all around us.

“Fuck.” He gritted his teeth and looked down at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “What was that?” I clutched my head, my ears were ringing from the sound of the blast that shattered the windows. I looked around panicked and scared.

“Don’t know.” He told me gruffly as he pulled us both back up.

Grappling hooks shot up from the broken windows and before I knew it I saw the pointed end of a sword aimed towards Damian’s.

“Damian!”

In that moment I cast aside all the doubts. I still wasn’t sure but if by a long shot; this was Robin, if Damian was Robin, then he could do something about this.

He knew how to fight. Unlike me. If I could give him a head start or a fighting chance, then he and the other superheroes could save everyone.

That’s what I told myself anyway as time stilled and I took the leap.

The blade sliced into my lower back and for a split second all I could feel was searing hot white pain. I cried out as it rippled through my torso. The sword was pulled out just as quick as it was pushed in. I could swear the world was tipping over. The blood had gushed out and I found it staining Damian’s pristine suit.

I could barely hear Damian’s scream as I phased in and out of consciousness. Somehow he had blocked another hit that was aimed at us before kicking the man as far away as possible. He pulled me towards him and muttered something incoherent before dashing across the hall.

The warmth of my own blood pooled over me. Mom would kill me when she saw the stain, if I wouldn’t bleed to death before she finds out that is.

“Shitshitshit, y/n!” He ducked behind a table and grabbed a bunch of  napkins, applying pressure as he held it against my stomach. “Stay with me, you’re going to be alright.”

I weakly nodded, feeling sick to my stomach at the smell of iron and sudden blood loss.

“Fuck.” Jason slid next to us as the gunshots started to fire. He noticed me and his features paled. “Oh, shit.”

“Jason, I need to bring her somewhere safe!” Damian said, his voice urgent.

“All citizen, please evacuate the building!” A strong voice bellowed from above us. It was a woman, dressed in purple. Her hair was on fire (literally) as it trailed behind her.

Starfire. But what was she doing in Metropolis…?

The people ran towards the entrance and a man in a tight body suit with a blue winged symbol on his chest directed the crowd flow.

Superboy zoomed in next, his features etched in worry as soon as he saw me. The wound must’ve been worse that I thought.

“What the hell is going on?!” Damian demanded from the superhero. “I thought this place was secured.”

“Kryptonite.” Superbly answered with an ominous tone. “I don’t know what happened but we should get the civilians – uh, you guys, to safety.”

The amendment wasn’t lost on me.

“Y/n, I’m going to find you after all this is over.” Damian promised. “Until then please, hang in there.”

I managed a weak smile and a sad excuse of a chuckle as the blood started to run down the corner of my mouth.

“I still need to guess the rest of your pets.” I joked, hoping to lighten the scene.

His response was a pained smile.

“Take her to Alfred.” He delicately passed me on to Superboy’s arms. “He’ll know what to do.”

Superboy nodded and flew away. The last thing I remembered was Nightwing and Starfire fighting off mechanical robots and ninja assassins. After that, my world went dark.

...

...

... to be continued ...

[codevassie]

Superpower TS Fic Recs

[***Let me know if I’ve missed anything on the Content Warnings!]

[**Do Not Ask Authors for Updates!]

[*Leave these authors Comments, please and thank you!]

What You Can Stand by manyfandomsonelog

Status: Incomplete, Work In Progress

Summary:  Virgil tried so, so hard to avoid becoming a supervillain. He really did. But when your superpower is literally manifesting a person's worst fears, it's a hard thing to avoid. Still, he really, really tried. Even when his own parents feared him. Even when the whole school feared him. Even when he hated himself and his Propensity so much that he wanted to give in. He might've succeeded, if he hadn't met him- Roman Reyes, AKA Roman Spectacular, AKA The Prince, AKA the worst thing that has ever happened to him (which is saying something).

Relationships: Prinxiety, Logicality 

CW: Psychological stuff, nightmares, bullying, physical harm, spiders, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, brief discussion of racism, self-hatred,  bomb, explosion, blood, injury, bad/abusive parenting, imprisonment, fire,  homophobia, pedophilia mention, discussion of child abuse, evidence of physical abuse, sexual innuendo, anxious thoughts, death, funeral, flashback, reference to sex, fairly aggressive arguing and yelling, public speaking, secondhand embarrassment

My thoughts: My quarantine savior!!! I started the fic like a week into quarantine, so I really mean that literally. The characterization is absolutely fantastic--I love seeing all of them interact. It’s so natural and fun and interesting. The plot is also just wonderful--one thing keeps happening after another and these guys just cannot seem to get a break. The pacing is awesome, and whether it’s a character or plot chapter, you just can’t look away. Log is such a fantastic writer and a wonderful person, so if you like awesome prinxiety, superpowers and secret identities, trust and betrayal, humor and angst, you really need to read this one! 

Rewind by ravenclawicecream 

Status: Incomplete, Work In Progress

Summary: When a group of superheroes show up to kill him, it's just another Wednesday for Virgil Messana. After five years of being on the run, he's used to the idea people want him dead. That fact is just an unfortunate side effect of having the power to destroy everything you touch. What does surprise him, however, is when he finds himself agreeing to join those superheros and become part of the team. It's not long until Virgil learns that all the heroes have chapters of their lives they'd rather keep unpublished, along with events they'd rather not relive. And, as he spends more time with the team, he realizes that he may know certain members much better than he'd originally thought. Virgil longs for a moment to figure everything out but by then it's too late. He's already caught up in a bigger scheme; one where they no longer have the power to control their own destinies. With every movement monitored and every action proven to be calculated, the lines between allies and enemies blur, leaving Virgil caught in between. When the stakes are inevitably raised, the remaining heroes must do all they can to change the future of the world. But time has always been a cruel master, and sometimes the only answer is to rewind.

Relationships: Loceit, Logicality, Prinxiety, Remile

CW: Major Character Death, Murder

My thoughts: Gosh, I wish this one got more love. It’s probably the MCD tag, so understandable, but also take into consideration the time travel tag and perhaps give it a chance? I feel like this fic is setting up for so much, and I cannot wait to see how it all goes down. I have so many questions for this fic which is always a good sign (so many that I may have freaked the author out with my WALL of questions on chapter three don’t worry about it /j). Please. Read. This. 

Powerless by patentpending 

Status: Complete

Summary: “People like us,” Logan had once remarked to Virgil. “Are statistical anomalies.”(Almost) Everyone in the world has powers. As for those who don’t, well, they’re such a small part of the population - only 0.04% - why would anyone care about them?Ever since he realized what people mean when they call him Powerless, Virgil Sanders has tried to fight back against the system that oppresses people like him, Patton, and Logan. When Patton’s bakery is targeted in a hate crime, he finally snaps. With the help of a mysterious sponsor, Virgil becomes a villain, ready to remake a broken society. The only thing standing in his way is the world’s most Powerful (and infuriatingly charming) superhero: The Prince, who is hiding the fact that his gilded life isn’t as perfect as it may seem.

Relationships: Prinxiety, Logicality, Roman/Female Fanon Character 

CW: Classism, Unreliable Narrator, Thinly Veiled Criticism of Society,  emetophobia, violence, gun mention,  implied suicide attempt, dub-con, mentions of blood, graphic depictions of a riot, non-graphic description of a wound, possessive and abusive behavior, kid being kicked out of the house by parent, kidnapping, kinda torture (?), body horror, gore, graphic descriptions of injuries, emotional abuse, police brutality, pain and injury, burning building, swearing, vomiting, murder, panic attack, dysphoria, misgendering, minor character death, major character death, self deprecating talk, mentions of suicide

My thoughts: Well, doing a TS superhero rec without Powerless is just treason. I don’t know--I’m trying to figure out a way to describe it and instead launching up to pace around the room with an instant replay of different scenes in my head. I mean, the grocery store chapter?!?! This stuff lives in my head rent free. The characterization, the banter, the tension, the motives--I can’t describe it y’all. Just, if you love yourselves (love yourselves, please <3) then just go read it. Or reread it. Do that for yourselves. 

Waterspout by Greenninjagal

Status: Complete

Summary: "Hail!” The boy says all smug smiles that Virgil immediately hates. “You’re Recluse aren’t you?”As if there was some other spider themed weirdo who clung to buildings in their free time.“No,” Virgil says, because he can. *** Virgil finds himself stuck on the side of a building in a rainstorm and is helped by an annoying-admittedly attractive-guy.

Relationships: Prinxiety

CW: Mild cursing, storms

My thoughts: This one is very cute. Virgil is a spiderman-like hero who went up a waterspout, and down comes some rain trying to wash him out. Roman comes to help, they banter a bit, and, maybe, there’s a little surprise at the end. I would not mind more of this AU. In fact, I would love it. But that should not discount how wonderfully made a oneshot it is either. The author wrote it perfectly for the length it is, presenting the charm of the characters, great plot and symbolism, and left me wanting more at the same time. Definitely go check this one out. 

Technically. It’s A Secret by supervillain 

Status: Incomplete, Work In Progress

Summary: Virgil Storm, the adopted son of a reality TV star with telekinesis was born without a power. That's been a problem for him all his life. His only friend is Patton Vega, his only chance at romance the irritating Cros Corson--until he gets a job at a top-secret facility, playing babysitter to a bunch of kids with dangerous powers and even more dangerous minds. Kids who happen to be exactly his age.Yeah, this is going to be a piece of cake, especially when the enigmatic villain Believe (aka Roman Torres) takes a liking to Virgil. And even worse, when Virgil starts to more than like him back. Pull in some evil mad scientists, a plague created to decimate the world, a murderous villain, an obnoxious stalker, and the greatest Kinetic the world has ever known, and you're in for a hell of a ride.

Relationships: Prinxiety, Logicality 

CW:  Anxiety attacks, arson, murder, minor character death, blood, spiders, being eaten alive, falling, death, sleeping, fighting, cop mention 

My thoughts: I’m behind on this one, and I wanted to catch up on it before I posted this rec list. Today is the last Friday of the year though, so I decided to just go ahead and do it. I love this fic a ton so far, and I can’t wait to read more. I can tell the author put a lot of thought into writing the world and characters, and that the plot is interesting and deliberate. There’s mysteries unfolding which intrigues me So Bad. It’s a super interesting one, so I’d say go read it!

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Kamino Arc, Kidnapping & Aftermath, Hurt/Comfort, Bakugou Gets A Hug

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Content warning for kidnapping, aftermath of violence. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

i’m gonna die (sent 19:08)

no seriously i’m this 👌🏻 close to losing it bro (sent 19:08)

aizawa’s voice is so zzzz and it’s like sir,, i’m begging,,,, (sent 19:09)

a little bit of energy. just a little bit (sent 19:09)

A nudge to his side, somewhat urgent.

shit brb (sent 19:10)

“Dude.”

Kirishima keeps his voice down to a hiss, shooting a glance at Aizawa’s turned back just in case. Hidden behind his pencil case, his phone shows Bakugou has read his messages – near-immediately, as always – before Kirishima locks the screen. His own face is reflected on sleek, innocent black.

Next to him, Kaminari is looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “Don’t dude me, dude”, he whispers back. “Texting in Aizawa’s class? D’you have a death wish?”

Next to Kaminari, Mina leans over her desk, clearly curious and uncaring of her notes crinkling quietly under her elbows. “You? Kiri, paragon of wholesomeness and sunshine, breaking the rules? Lemme guess, it’s because of Bakugou.”

Next to Mina, Sero joins the fray with a muted headshake. “So brave yet so reckless. Truly inspiring.”

“You can say that again. That guy’s scary, man.” That’s Kaminari again. He leans in conspiratorially, nodding at Kirishima’s phone. “You got Blasty’s number? How? He almost bit my head off when I invited him to the 1-A chat.”

“Uh, yeah? We’re besties. But guys…”

If they were anywhere else, Kirishima would let out a whine. All he wanted to do was keep himself awake by texting his bro, is that such a crime? Especially since Bakugou’s the only one of ‘em who is actually allowed out there, where the fun stuff is happening. It’s downright cruel to have a new challenge dangled in front of their eyes like the juiciest steak only to be dragged away to the equivalent of plain steamed broccoli. Or something.

Point is: Kirishima’s bored enough he could cry and Aizawa, bless his insomnia-plagued soul, is making it about a thousand times worse with his monotone mumbling while he continues to write whatever-the-fuck in chalk to illustrate his point.

Three mouths open simultaneously in what Kirishima knows will be a too-loud bout of teasing – a frantic gesture of his hand to shut up, shut up, shut up has identical grins bursting on his friends’ faces.

Grins that disappear the instant the familiar sense of Aizawa’s quirk washes over them. Uh oh.

Aizawa doesn’t even have to say anything. Not even a brief pause registers in his lecture yet Kirishima snaps to attention so hard his buttcheeks clench as he furiously scribbles down what’s on the board. Some sort of… diagram? (It’ll make sense later, Kirishima hopes. And if it doesn’t, there’s always his equally draconic tutor-slash-best-friend he can poke into helping him eventually.)

After a semester at U.A., everyone in 1-A is whipped enough that not a single word is breathed between them for a good fifteen minutes. Aizawa talks, they take notes.

Then the adrenaline wears off and Kirishima finds himself drifting once more, fingers automatically flicking the home button. There, over Crimson Riot’s confident grin, three new messages.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

pay attention (received 19:14)

ffs (received 19:14)

hope aizawa murdered your ass (received 19:16)

No surprises there. Well, the fact that Bakugou has deigned to reply just before a training exercise kind of is, and he even triple-texted which makes a sappy part of Kirishima’s brain think he must’ve rubbed off on him over the past months. The day Bakugou Katsuki discovers emojis can’t be far off now and it will be Kirishima’s greatest achievement to date.

He bites his lip to suppress an amused noise at that. Ignoring the incredulous stare from Kaminari to his right, Kirishima types.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

haha! i lived bitch (sent 19:32)

minus the bitch askdjfhsk sry (sent 19:32)

i’m just tired af lol (sent 19:32)

how’s things on ur end tho? (sent 19:34)

no asses left unkicked i’m sure (sent 19:34)

👊🏻💥💥 (sent 19:35)

Kirishima gets about a solid second to feel good about furthering his pro-emoji agenda before his phone is snatched away by rigid, white cloth. Wide-eyed, his gaze is met by a flat expression that exudes more exhaustion than any human should rightfully have to feel.

“Kirishima”, Aizawa says, as calm as ever. “How kind of you to lend me your attention.”

Lord have mercy. Whichever hell Aizawa is about to unleash on him, Kirishima will be in it for a while. And when that’s over, it’ll be Bakugou’s turn to have a field day with it.

Somehow, Kirishima is actually looking forward to that last part.

*

Then, a voice rings out in their heads. Aizawa jumps into motion. The villains strike.

Afterwards, all Kirishima can do is stand there and watch the forest burn. His phone is silent, held between fingers that won’t stop trembling no matter what he does. He unlocks, checks, locks, only to do it all over again a few minutes or seconds later.

Around him, everything is spinning out of control. Reality is too loud, too bright, already overwhelming where it waits to be acknowledged beyond the soothing green interface of his chat with Bakugou.

The messages are still there. Marked read until they aren’t, and Kirishima stares at that subtle difference like it’s the last thing tethering him to the ground. Blue tick, his best friend is fine. Grey tick–

Bakugou let Kirishima take a photo of him, once. Kirishima had complained about his profile picture being that creepy default silhouette, especially once they started texting on a daily basis. So Bakugou sighed and leaned over the tiny table of the café, his chin propped on one hand and his coffee in the other. He’d kept still just long enough for the shutter to go off and called him a clingy bastard right after.

In the soft morning light, there’d been something warm in his typical glare. It’s still there, tucked away in the top left corner of the screen. Fond, red eyes, looking straight at Kirishima ever since.

Higher and higher, the flames reach for the sky with greedy, cobalt fingers, bright enough to take the stars with them. And Bakugou?

Bakugou is gone.

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

hey (sent 23:01)

it’s a long shot but (sent 23:03)

are u there? (sent 23:03)

these are going thru so ur phone is on and i thought (sent 23:08)

idk (sent 23:08)

please respond man (sent 23:37)

please (sent 23:58)

katsuki? (sent 00:40)

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

fuck (sent 3:24)

*

Bakugou Katsuki

um (sent 6:13)

the pros asked for ur number to track it and stuff so i gave it to them (sent 6:13)

turns out almost nobody has it?? so like (sent 6:20)

if u want a new one after all this it’s on me (sent 6:21)

pls don’t be mad haha (sent 6:21)

fuck that actually (sent 7:05)

be as mad as u want baku (sent 7:06)

u can do whatever ok? when u come back (sent 7:09)

free pass. i won’t guard this time (sent 7:09)

just come back (sent 8:00)

they’re looking for u so u gotta come back (sent 8:02)

* 

Baku 💣💥

sry i just (sent 19:55)

ok still going thru (sent 19:55)

that’s good right? (sent 19:57)

i need it to be good (sent 20:05)

yeah (sent 20:06)

*

Baku 💣💥

it’s saturday (sent 2:33)

please be ok (sent 4:46)

i miss u (sent 5:00)

*

Baku 💣💥

we’re on our way katsuki (sent 12:45)

just hold on we’re coming for u (sending…)

wait (sending…)

oh (sending…)

*

Bakugou is quiet.

When all is said and done, injuries patched up and police statements given, Kirishima waits and Bakugou looks… tired. Small. Glancing back at the precinct with eyes a little too wide, a little too hesitant to truly belong to him.

Whatever he’s searching, if he finds it or not – Kirishima can only guess as Bakugou’s shoulders slump further and he mutters, “Let’s just go.”

In retrospect, he was probably talking to his parents. The Bakugous came for their son in a car as expensive as they come, white with chrome highlights and an interior clad entirely in tasteful, beige leather; it’s an aesthetic that’s the antithesis to Katsuki’s. Their expressions are full of love, though, brows drawn in concern carefully left unspoken. His father opens the back door for him first, going for his own in the front, while his mother ruffles Bakugou’s hair within the one-second-window he allows for the touch before shrugging it off.

“Welcome back, brat. We missed ya.”

Familiar phrases laden with far too much weight. From the outside in, it’s just that: Mildly exasperated parents picking up their kid after some school thing that dragged on into the night, or perhaps a late hangout with a friend. No one acknowledges the nightmare-ish three days they’ve left behind by the merit of time passing and the world spinning on and nothing else – the countless people injured or dead, an entire district torn asunder in a conflict much bigger than any of them, especially Bakugou.

Bakugou, who shuffles onto the backseat without saying much of anything. It’s only after Kirishima trails after him and Bakugou’s eyes meet his own over his shoulder that Kirishima realizes that’s what he’s doing.

Then Bakugou’s gaze softens and he kicks the door of the car open wider. “Um”, Kirishima pipes up, the noise of keys clinking together drawing his attention to one Bakugou Mitsuki. “Is it okay if I…?”

She snorts and ruffles his hair, too. “Kid, after what you did tonight, a ride home is the least I can do for ya. C’mon.”

Kirishima bows politely, a mumble of “Thanks, ma’am” waved away immediately. A moment later, Kirishima’s hand is being grabbed and he’s dragged inside. “Get a move on”, Bakugou mumbles, staring pointedly until Kirishima rights himself and digs for the seatbelt with his free hand. The click of the clasp snapping in is oddly loud in the ensuing silence.

It doesn’t last. The moment the engine purrs to life and the lights go off, a heavy guitar riff screeches from cleverly hidden speakers in perfect surround sound and Kirishima jumps. He’s the only one in the car to do so.

“Whoops, my bad”, says Bakugou’s mom as she turns the music down the slightest amount, her smirk – so familiar and yet not – clearly visible in the rear-view mirror. Next to her, Bakugou’s dad chuckles and shakes his head.

Bakugou himself is turned towards the window, the hand against his chin barely hiding the tiny smirk there. Kirishima lets him have it. Anything that’ll replace that lost expression from earlier is good in his books.

“So. Eijirou, right? Nice to finally meet ya.” Mrs. Bakugou checks in with him via the mirror. Her hand rests on the gear selector. “Where to? We’ll bring you home first. I’m sure your parents are worried.”

And oh fuck, Kirishima hasn’t even thought that far ahead yet. When he snuck out of the house a lifetime ago, all his mind was able to process was getting to Bakugou, saving Bakugou, bringing Bakugou back. As much as both his mothers are angels in their own right, they’re also easily worried and twice as buff as him. There haven’t been many occasions which called for them to throw down for their son but they totally would if given half the chance.

If they catch wind of even a fraction of what Kirishima got up to tonight, someone will have to pay. Kirishima’s willing to bet his most prized, limited-edition Crimson Riot figurine that that someone will end up being all of U.A., nationally famous pro heroes or not.

Before any of that can make it out of his mouth, Kirishima’s hand is squeezed and… Oh. Bakugou’s still holding it. Their skin isn’t touching; Kirishima’s sleeve has been pulled down to prevent that.

(It’s one of those things Bakugou does, tracking who and what gets in direct contact with his sweat and how to neutralize it in time. It makes Kirishima’s chest ache that, despite everything that happened, he is still aware of small things like that.)

“He’s crashing at ours tonight”, Bakugou tells his parents rather gruffly. Still looking out the window like there’s nothing unusual about that at all, and Kirishima gapes at him in complete and utter surprise. Bakugou’s grip only tightens.

“Got a problem with that?”

Just like that, Kirishima finds himself able to process speech. “Nope! Not at all. Uh, that is– Mrs. Bakugou, Mr. Bakugou, can I?”

Bakugou’s parents look similarly caught off-guard. To their credit, they merely blink and look at each other, shrugging. Again, it’s the mother who speaks. “That’s Mitsuki and Masaru to you, kid. Let’s go home, then.”

And that’s that. They set off, the car’s movement a quiet thrum that’s drowned out by complicated drum solos and vocals barely scraping past outright growling. Any other day, Kirishima would’ve been ecstatic to finally get to meet the Bakugous. He’d hoard bits and pieces of knowledge about them – such as the fact that Katsuki’s taste in music runs in the family, what the hell – like a dragon does gold coins. The notion that Bakugou invited him to their first sleep-over ever would be the biggest treasure on that pile, for sure.

Because Bakugou Katsuki is anything if not cautious: with his quirk, with his time, with his trust. Because, after days of pacing his room and worrying himself sick and crying until exhaustion took him out, their plan worked.

They pulled it off, Bakugou is back and alive, and Kirishima’s allowed to stay by his side a little bit longer.

He’s here because Bakugou wants him to be and that… feels better than Kirishima can properly put into words. So, no, he doesn’t boast about it, he doesn’t have the energy to – but Kirishima notes and appreciates it nonetheless, relief forming a ball of warmth and light that radiates within him like a tiny sun got stuck between his lungs and his heart. Bit by bit, it melts the tension off Kirishima’s bones until all he can grasp is the steady presence of Bakugou’s hand in his and how heavy his eyelids feel.

Kirishima could sleep for a week straight and still crave a nap afterwards. Probably.

There’s something he has to do before he crashes, though. With a gentle squeeze, he frees his hand to grab his phone and winces at the dozens of unread messages and missed calls that greet him. Both the group he has with his family as well as the one for 1-A have been running hot most of the night, reducing his battery to a pitiful 12%.

Opening up the chat with his moms, Kirishima scrolls to the bottom of the increasingly worried barrage of texts and hesitates, his fingers hovering over the keypad. Once he starts typing, he’ll have about a minute before shit really hits the fan.

💪🏻Kirishima Power 💪🏻

guys i’m so sorry!!! (sent 21:58)

i know ur worried and stuff and i swear i’ll explain later ok?? (sent 21:58)

 just wanna let u know i’m safe!! staying over at baku’s tonight (sent 21:58)

he’s here and safe too (sent 21:58)

🙏🏻🙏🏻 (sent 21:59)

He pauses then, reading that last part over and over again. Safe. Safe, safe, safe. A smile cracks Kirishima’s lips apart and it remains there, steadfast through the flood of new messages rolling in.

*

Bakugou’s room is both everything Kirishima expected it to be and at the same time… not.

It’s huge, for one, the typical bed-wardrobe-desk setup expanded by a couch and a beanbag, a TV with a variety of game systems hooked up to it, a handful of shelves filled to the brim with books and manga and oh, a whole freaking drum set taking up a corner by itself. The walls are plastered with band posters and signed set lists and – less blatant but still there – the odd All Might merch Kirishima knows Bakugou would strangle him for mentioning, so he doesn’t.

What comes out of his mouth is: “Dude! I didn’t know you played drums. That’s so cool!”

Everything is kept in the triad of black-orange-green Kirishima recognizes from a certain hero costume. A few discarded shirts aside, it’s really tidy. So much so that Kirishima feels ashamed of the state of his own room just by seeing this.

The feeling is compounded by Bakugou picking up those shirts and throwing them in the hamper first thing, a quiet tch indicating he’s annoyed by it. Kirishima isn’t up to outing himself as an unrepentant walking mess in comparison – instead, he makes a beeline for the bookshelf with the manga, eyes drawn to a row of covers he’d recognize in a heartbeat.

“Wha– I’ve been looking for these for ages! They’re sold out every time I try to catch up on ‘em.”

A short glance at Bakugou is answered with a shrug and an eye-roll: It’s Bakugou-speak for do whatever the hell you want. Kirishima pulls out the volume he stopped at and leafs through it.

It’s meant as a distraction for Bakugou, a space for him to drop the put-together façade and breathe without people constantly fussing over him. It’s honestly what Kirishima would rather be doing right now (exploring his best bro’s room be damned) but it’s not what Bakugou needs. Well, what Kirishima thinks he needs.

It’s hard to get a read on him without the constant snark and pointed glares. With some dinner in their bellies and Bakugou’s parents now safely downstairs, the expression that fits nowhere on the Angry Bakugou Face catalogue is back. Kind of uncomfortable and so… absent.

Kirishima is really starting to hate that expression.

It’s entirely accidental that Kirishima actually gets into reading. One chapter turns to three, turns to five, and the troubles and worries whirling ever-tighter in his chest ease for a bit until–

Woosh. A soft, balled-up something knocks against the back of his head. Kirishima startles and almost drops the manga, a vaguely alarmed noise stopped short by the sight of Bakugou in sweats and a well-worn, black shirt. His hair is wet. Wild as ever. At Kirishima’s feet: A similar outfit including a towel.

“Bathroom’s that way. Leave your clothes out by the door, I got special detergent for the nitro. Shampoo and shit’s in the shower, there’s a toothbrush for you by the sink. Use it.”

Kirishima opens his mouth.

Bakugou sighs. “It’s just a fucking toothbrush, Kiri. Wreck it for all I care.”

Kirishima closes his mouth. He nods. His phone is quickly dug out of his pocket and set aside, then he slips out to shower.

A good fifteen minutes later, he opens the door to let out a gust of steam and sees his clothes are gone. The hallway is empty, half-lit by the light coming from downstairs. The Bakugous have been as nonchalant about their spontaneous guest as Bakugou himself; even so, Kirishima tries not to linger or make too much noise as he sneaks back to Bakugou’s room.

“Baku. I’m back.”

Bakugou gives him a grunt of acknowledgement from where he’s fitting some sheets over the couch, folded out to provide a decently sized bed. There’s a pillow and a pile of blankets next to him, wrapped in fresh linen as well. It’s unlikely he’s stopped doing stuff since Kirishima left and if he is about ready to crash in five to ten minutes, he can’t imagine how Bakugou is doing right now.

Y’know, the guy who just survived being kidnapped by Japan’s newest and most notorious villain menace. No amount of pretense can make that simple fact undone.

Kirishima pads over to help, the offer to take over already on his lips but– Too late. The last corner is already being tucked in and laid flat with grim-faced efficiency. Left with nothing else to do, Kirishima sits down on the very edge, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the hem of his borrowed shirt. There’s some sort of band logo on it, an English word written in that typical death-metal-font that looks like someone dumped a bunch of white sticks in a pile and called it a day.

It’s soft. A little loose and frayed around the edges.

“Hey, Baku?”

Taking the blankets, Bakugou dumps them in Kirishima’s lap. “Mh?” He makes to step away and Kirishima doesn’t think, just reaches out and catches the back of his shirt.

“Dude, seriously. Just… sit down for a minute. Please?”

And Bakugou… listens. He stops, he frowns at Kirishima for a moment like he’s trying to figure out what his deal is, he sighs like he’s been presented with the world’s most aggravating puzzle – and then he tells Kirishima to scooch. “What? I’m not gonna sit on the fucking floor”, he says.

Kirishima can’t keep the relief off his face as he gladly makes room on the couch, leaning against its arm and tucking his legs in. Once Bakugou has settled, cross-legged with an elbow propped on the backrest, Kirishima throws the blanket over both of ‘em. Might as well get comfortable while they still can.

“Okay.” He steels himself with a long, slow breath. “I know you hate this kinda thing and we’re both tired and… stuff. Still, though: Are you okay?”

Bakugou gives him a look, which– Okay, fair. It’s a dumb question with an obvious answer. Kirishima doesn’t back down, though, humming to buy himself some time to rephrase.

“Like… It’s fine if you’re not. Okay, I mean. And if you’d rather go the fuck to bed and not think about this for a while that’s fine, too. But that was pretty rough and you’ve been, um, quiet. And stuff. So, I’m kinda worried. Y’know?”

Kirishima pauses. A bit lower, he mumbles: “And I missed you. So yeah.”

At some point, he dropped his gaze to his hands, limp and useless in his lap. Kirishima swore not to be a coward anymore but it’s hard, to speak and ask about things in full awareness he has no fucking clue what he’s doing.

All he wants is for Bakugou to be okay. That’s all that matters, at the end of a day like this.

“I’m not”, Bakugou says, tentatively. Like he’s making up his mind as he goes. “I’m not gonna waste your time with ‘I’m fine’. I’m not. This shit’s fucked up.” And again he sighs, sounding so fucking tired Kirishima’s heart squeezes in sympathy.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days; my shoulders are killing me from using my quirk and sitting chained to that stupid chair and whatever the fuck else. The League scouted me specifically because they thought I’d make a good villain and fuck them for that. Fuck them. But it’s just… It’s whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Whatever Kirishima expected, it’s not that. He looks up and into Bakugou’s eyes and–

He can’t mean that, can he? Kirishima searches his face for evidence to the contrary, traces the tension around Bakugou’s mouth and the exhaustion smudged under his eyes and the line between his brows, growing deeper under Kirishima’s scrutiny. It all reads defeat. It hurts.

They won, right? A childish voice within Kirishima can’t help but cling to that even as he looks back down. They won, and things are supposed to get better when you win.

“People got hurt. People died, Kiri. Heroes, too.” Bakugou takes a shaky breath, a hand going to his hair and rubbing it roughly. “Fucking… Best Jeanist was there and nobody at the precinct wanted to tell me if he’s alive or dead or what. All of Kamino Ward is fucking gone and All Might–”

Bakugou’s voice cracks right down the middle and it hurts. Like there’s a beast tearing through Kirishima’s chest to rip out his heart and throw it to the floor, stubbornly beating as it bleeds out.

Kirishima wants to say something. Anything. All he can hear is Bakugou’s breathing but it’s all wrong, off-rhythm and thread-bare and upset, and any doubt what that means is erased as Bakugou’s hand clenches on the sheets and he sniffs, wet on the exhale.

“Baku–”

“Don’t. Kiri, don’t–”

He’s always been like that, ordering him around and demanding things when politeness dictates to ask for them instead. His tone is as close to pleading as Kirishima’s ever heard from Bakugou, though, and it twists him up inside to the point he feels distantly nauseous.

“Don’t look.” Bakugou isn’t supposed to sound like that. Not now, not ever. “Okay? Don’t f-fucking– Don’t look at me right now.”

“Okay”, Kirishima says. “I won’t.” His own voice is a mess as well, trembling all over the place. “I won’t, Nitro. I won’t.”

You’re safe, is what he wants to tell him. It’s okay, you’re safe now. That’s not what Bakugou is asking of him. Kirishima can’t stop himself from crying because it’s always been hard not to when the people he loves are doing it, but… He tries. For Bakugou, he’ll always try.

Through eyes heavily clouded by tears, he sees Bakugou’s hand tighten, knuckles going white and bloodless. Painfully tense, and Kirishima can’t stand the sight of that, either.

He shuffles a little closer to place his hand over that fist, careful to only touch the back of Bakugou’s hand. Kirishima whispers, “I’m here”, and Bakugou audibly swallows. He lets him slip his fingers in-between his own.

Holding on, just as he did in the car and when they met in mid-air, that desperate instance that decided whether he would make it out alive or not.

Bakugou holds on even as he breaks for good and his shoulders shake with his sobs. As he continues to breathe in gulps of air that sound strangled and desperate, through tears that leave a pattern of uneven dots on the blanket. By morning they will be gone without a trace: The sun will come up, the world will continue to travel around it, and time will reveal the road they walk on as they walk it, step by step by step.

Just because it’s meant to pass doesn’t make this moment any less real. Any less important. Kirishima sits there and listens to his best friend cry. He remembers days spent without him and the mad dash to save him. He thinks of dumb questions and obvious answers.

It’s hard to tell if this is one of them, so he gathers all his courage and asks: “Katsuki. Can I hug you?”

Just like last time, Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He laughs, a watery, humorless thing – and he pulls at Kirishima’s shirt to crush him to his chest. His arms wind around Kirishima’s neck, Bakugou’s face pressing against his hair where Kirishima won’t be able to see him.

It’s fine. Kirishima’s great at hugs; he can totally work with that. Clenching his eyes shut, he adjusts his grip around Bakugou’s waist so he can rub his back, following the bumps of his spine. Up and down, over and over. Bakugou goes boneless in their embrace, not about to let go anytime soon and neither will Kirishima.

Eventually, Kirishima tucks his head against Bakugou’s shoulder, blinking sleep from his eyes. Safe. He doesn’t fight the sharp-toothed smile on his lips. Bakugou mumbles, “Fucking sap”, nearly drowned out by their collective sniffling.

It sounds a whole lot like thank you. Kirishima’s smile only grows.

>>Chapter 5

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Well This is Strange and Unexpected [Toshinori x Reader] [Part 2]

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Summary: Toshinori struggles with your unfavorable opinion of his heroic alter-ego, but tries his hardest to impress you on a second date! Now… how do people date again?

4,537 words | SFW

“Wh-wh-what are you saying? You don’t like All Might?”

“I am just so tired of how everybody loves him! ‘I got the All Might special-edition action figure.’ ‘Well I got his autograph,’” you parrot in a mocking tone. “Whoop-de-friggen-doo. And he’s such an annoying showboat—like, I appreciate the crime he stops, but half the time he’s just striking a pose in front of news cameras shouting some dumb catchphrase. Go catch a bag guy and quit bragging about it! But you know what pisses me off most of all—all the swooning and fangirling. Why are so many women even into him?! All those beefy muscles are so ugly, he’s like an upside-down stack of potatoes! Who likes that?”

Toshinori is just staring, slack jawed, at you. Like you kicked his puppy.

“Sorry for going off like that, I shouldn’t tear apart something you obviously like.”

Is what you should have said.

Instead, you inhale, and, “Another thing! He’s not even edgy, or interesting—there’s no depth there, he’s just… all powerful and perfect? It’s so boring! All flash and no substance. If I was going to root for a hero, it’d be someone like Eraserhead. So dark and gruff, never putting himself in the spotlight, letting the work speak for itself.”

“I… I’ve gotta go.” He stands robotically and walks toward the door. Oh, shit. Your heart sinks.

“Wait!” you run after him and grab his arm. “I’m sorry. I was being mean. It’s just, All Might stuff is everywhere and it feels like I can’t escape it,” you laugh. “But if you’re a fan, that’s OK. I won’t make fun of him. I really am sorry.” He finally turns around to face you.

“I meant the phone call. I gotta go. Emergency.” He holds up the glowing screen.

“Oh.”

He smiles and pats you on the head. But he’s more subdued than he was a minute ago, and there’s a pain in his eyes when he looks at you that wasn’t there before. He probably did take it really personally when you insulted his hero. Idiot.

“Do you really think All Might is ugly?” he asks quietly, gathering his things by the door. “There’s nothing appealing about him at all?”

“Like I said, you’re my type.”

He lets out a quiet, almost melancholy breath of a laugh. He turns to you, and wraps his long arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. It’s not a particularly passionate hug—his touch is so light, he’s barely making contact at all—but he’s tall enough to rest his chin on top of your head.

“You’re a strange one,” he whispers.

You close your eyes and breathe him in. He smells a lot like iron and convenience-store floor, actually, could be a lot more romantic. But you feel content so close to this scarecrow, with his soft bangs hanging down and brushing your skin. You almost let out a whine when he finally pulls away.

“So, will I see you again?” You ask, nervous about the answer. He couldn’t have been that serious about that All Might stuff, right? But if you chased him off, at this point, it might break your heart.

“Definitely.” A wide grin splits his whole face as he strikes a heroic pose. “My debating skills cannot be defeated! Next time, I’ll convince you All Might is the greatest hero!”

“Oh my god, get out of my house.”

 ****

Toshinori couldn’t believe it. Today of all days. First he wore himself out doing hero work in the morning. Then USJ was attacked and he pushed past his limit to rescue his students, nearly died, and once again reduced the amount of time he can remain in his muscle form. On top of all that, now, today of all days is when a couple of everyday bullies decide to hassle him.

He just had to go for a walk instead of getting a cab straight home. Had to stop to pick up medicine, even though it was already getting dark. Were such simple things really so hard for the number-one hero now?

He would laugh if it weren’t so pathetic.

It wasn’t like this had never happened before. Every once in awhile some delinquent singles him out, expecting a weak target, but even in his weak form, on a normal day, he would easily dodge and evade them, quickly diffusing the situation.

But today. Today he was done. He had already gone beyond what he had to give, and gone beyond that again, and he was out.

There were plenty of witnesses in the store, but nobody was going to stop to help, just pretending they couldn’t see. He was practically invisible in this form. Nobody cares what happens to some creepy, worn-down old man. It’s better this way, anyway. What kind of hero would he be if someone got hurt rescuing him?

This was really going to happen. He was really going to have his ass kicked by some random jerks. How had he fallen so low?

Then you appeared.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from putting yourself in danger: he could barely move. That kick caught him right in his weak spot, the old wound Nomu had already agitated earlier that day. A sickening, warm gurgling of fluids squished in his lungs, making each breath a battle against the encroaching darkness.

Run away. Just run away!

You obviously weren’t a hero, you didn’t have any training, that was clear in the way you carried yourself. But you were brave. Brave enough to piss those guys off. You just kept telling them off like you had no sense of self-preservation, until—he saw one of them about to throw a punch at you, and his nostrils flared in anger. He would have to—have to force himself to transform, no matter how it would hurt him, no matter how many people would see. He couldn’t let this happen—

Then you did something his pride would never have let him consider: you just started shrieking.

It worked. You saved yourself, and him, though it was even more humiliating than letting himself get beat up. There he was, suffocating on his own blood where anyone walking by could see what a helpless weakling he was… and now there was a girl bawling loudly on that same floor, drawing everyone’s attention to the intensely embarrassing scene.

Time to crawl into a hole and never show his face again?

He had to hand it to you though, you knew what you were doing. You forced all the silent spectators to admit they were paying attention—forced them to get involved. You had the heart of a hero, all right.

Everything after that seemed to happen so fast. Losing consciousness, learning that you had risked your well-being once again for him with your quirk. The shame he felt, seeing you suffering the same symptoms he was. Then suddenly, you were asking him out?

He was used to getting attention all the time in his muscle form, but in his true form, he was so invisible he could transform into All Might in public and nobody ever noticed. Like there was nobody standing there before All Might magically showed up.

His head swam dizzily when you said that he was your type. How could you be serious? But it seemed you were, even though he had been nothing but helpless. Even though you were coughing up blood because of him. What in the world were you seeing?

You were so boldly affectionate with him—though every time you did something unreserved, you started turning red and shaking, like you were acting with your heart before your head could talk you out of it. Even his hideous scar, and the frustrating health issues he doesn’t like to burden others with, you accepted without even a moment of disgust or fear. You reached out and touched it without thinking, and then blushed. It was so cute.

Being adored and praised as All Might was easy to brush off, but this? He had never had someone pressed against his body so affectionately as this drained husk. As the thing he was slowly becoming, permanently. There was at least one person who still saw him. He could get used to that feeling—that warmth in his chest. 

Then his phone rang—that custom ringtone he recorded himself! For a moment, he thought you were putting it together: the blond hair, two long bangs, the eyes, the voice.

But no, instead he got an even bigger shock. You don’t like All Might?!

How can he go out with someone who doesn’t like All Might? He is All Might!

Obnoxious? Ugly?? SHE PREFERS AIZAWA?!?!

Nope. That’s it. That is more than he can take.

But then there you were, pulling at his arm with those puppy-dog eyes, apologizing. You didn’t mean anything against him. You just didn’t know. You couldn’t know. He can’t blame you for having an opinion about a public figure. Even he had to admit his public persona could be a little… much.

He checked the caller before dismissing it. It was Nezu, so it probably was important. Not exactly a lie. It’s a shame to leave early, but he didn’t want you to know how shaken he was.

To be honest, he’s been starting to resent All Might a little, himself. He used to be that brawny, handsome hero, but now… now it’s just a mask he puts on. A flashy act for the crowds, and they eat it up, while his real self is overlooked and treated like a punching bag. Of course he resents it, just a little.

It’s actually kind of tickling that you prefer him this way. Pretty soon, it’s all he’ll be.

But he is All Might, too! If you only knew him better, you would realize how awesome he is! After all, All Might is the same person you had a wonderful evening with, laughing and watching movies—the same person you wanted a second date with. Yes, he’s sure you would like all of him if you got to know him! He’ll win you over!

 ****

“Next time, I’ll convince you,” he said. Next time.

After 15 minutes, you get a text from Toshinori’s number. “Oh good, did he make it home safely?” you wonder.

It’s a short essay about All Might.

Ping!

Another text from Toshi. Also about All Might.

Ping!

Did you know crime rates fell by over 20 percent since All Might debuted?

Ping!

His confident demeanor isn’t just showboating, it’s about instilling confidence in—

Ping!

Look at this video of All Might rescuing puppies! PUPPIES!!

You shake your head and laugh, a warm smile on your face. Hero fanatics may be annoying, but Toshi is kind of adorable. It’s so wide-eyed and innocent how much he loves—

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Yeah, never mind, it’s annoying. You text back a single message:

lol.

You can practically hear his internal screaming from across town. You snicker. He was right, you are a little devious.

*********************************************

Toshinori was as busy as he said he’d be. After the flurry of texts, it was over a week before you heard from him again. You thought he might want to watch the U.A. Sports Festival together, since he was such a fan of hero stuff (and All Might would be involved this year—eye roll), but he said he had too much to do.

You wondered if that was true, or if he could hear your eyes rolling through the text message. Maybe your snarky response to his hero obsession had spoiled things, and he’d keep on making excuses until you took the hint.

But a day later, he called back (yes, called—who does that?) and apologized so vehemently, you knew he meant what he’d said all along. He was just busy. But he was going to have some free time over the next week, and wants to see you again!

He shows up at your door with a bouquet of pink, white, and periwinkle flowers in his hands, wearing an oversized blazer and tie. It’s like he’d watched an old Fred Astaire movie to figure out what people on dates are supposed to look like.

“Aww, Toshinori!” you clasp your hands under your chin. “What did I say about marriage? You’re not here to propose, are you?”

He looks down at himself, then at your casual attire. “I overdid it, huh?”

“You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

“I’ve been told it’s a problem of mine,” he scratches the back of his head, giving a lopsided grin.

“No, it’s adorable!” You take the flowers, brushing your fingers against his, and bury your nose in the fragrant petals. You look up at him with a sultry, playful gaze. “Though… I might need to change into something more formal now, or it’ll look like I hired you.” A fountain of blood shoots from his mouth.

You drop the bouquet and throw your arm under his shoulder in case he falls, the other hand instinctively placing itself over his scar, the source of his affliction. He jumps back with surprising agility, as if evading an attack.

“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t use your quirk on me again. I’m much better today—the bleeding is always going to happen, so don’t push yourself.”

You hold your hands up in surrender. “OK. I wasn’t going to. Probably. I definitely won’t now. It’s really a regular issue?”

He nods. “I’m sorry if it bothers you.”

“No, no, I was just curious.” You take his hand and lead him inside. He explains his condition, while you find a vase for the flowers. He takes off his jacket and tie, folding them over the arm of the couch. With just a white button-up, he immediately comes down to a more casual level, better matching your outfit. He throws his arms wide to ask, “What do you think?”

You think he looks slender and gorgeous, and just disheveled enough that you want to comb your fingers through his hair, and just dapper enough that you want to undo one more button.

“Perfect!” You throw finger guns at him, “Just a couple of slobs out for a date!”

 ****

Unfortunately, he has a reservation at a fancy restaurant. Very fancy. One of those places where the floors are marble and everyone wears black. Now you feel way under-dressed, and wish he’d warned you that’s why he was dressed so nice. You don’t even want to look at the prices on the menu.

You had hoped this date would be more exciting, considering the first one started with a brawl. That was a real ice-breaker. Here, the atmosphere is so quiet and formal, you’re almost afraid to speak, and a tense silence builds between you. Toshinori doesn’t seem to be having a great time either.

“You’re barely eating anything,” you note him lethargically picking at his plate. “Do you not like the food?”

“No, I just can’t eat much at once, so…”

“But the portions here are really big! Why would you want to come here?”

“It… seemed like the kind of place you’re supposed to go for a date!”

“Are you kidding?” you shout, half standing up from your seat, too loudly for the restaurant, whose more dignified customers glare and scoff. You sit back down and cover your face with your hand. And you just start laughing. A quiet chuckle at first, but soon you can’t even contain it, your shoulders wracking, and your head tossed back.

“Wh-what’s so funny?” Toshi looks scared.

“I hate it here!” you spurt out, still laughing. “This is the worst! It’s way too stuffy, and you can’t even eat the food.”

“I hate this place too! I just thought women like this sort of thing.”

You sputter and howl, slapping the table. “What are we even doing here?”

“We’re getting the bill!” He calls the waiter over, who is happy to shoo you ruffians out of the fine establishment.

 ****

Out in the fresh air and sunlight, you feel like you can finally talk to each other. He apologizes for being too old-fashioned, and, frankly, having no idea what he’s doing. You link arms, and decide to go for a stroll around the city, stopping at a street vendor for pork buns, which Toshi can eat one at a time at his own pace.

However, out in the city, All Might’s unsettling grin was inescapable, watching from every billboard and gift shop. It’s not long before Toshi starts on his favorite subject: prying into why you are the one person on earth who doesn’t adore him. You would be just as happy to let it go, but since he insists, you wind up in a heated back-and-forth.

“…and he’s always like ‘Detroit smash!’ ‘Texas smash!’ but it’s just a bunch of punches.”

“Th-that’s not true at all! Detroit Smash is when he punches downward to create a shockwave, and Texas Smash is when he punches so hard it blows villains away, and—”

“Yeah, that’s just a bunch of punches.”

Choking noises escape his throat. His entire world has been destroyed. Good job.

He hangs his head with a defeated sigh. “So, you really hate All Might.”

You squeeze his arm. It hurts to see him so down, even though it’s silly that he cares so much. “It’s not that I hate him. At the end of the day, I’m glad he’s running around saving lives. The problem is hero culture in general. There’s so much focus on their ‘brand,’ on their market value. I guess I can’t even blame individual heroes for grandstanding, considering their income depends on their popularity, but honestly—they’re public servants, the same as the police. Did you know the police are still responsible for stopping more crimes than heroes, when you take into account all the non-quirk-related crimes they handle, and the detective work used to locate villains in the first place? But you don’t see their faces all over posters, and commercials, and t-shirts!” You point your finger in a random direction, and it lands on a perfume ad in a store window with Uwabami’s face. Amazing, not All Might this time.

“And your hero All Might is the worst one, with that dumb flashy smile, and big inspiring speeches, like he’s gotta make sure everyone knows he’s the greatest.”

Toshinori has been listening silently this whole time, deep in thought. From the solemn frown he was wearing, it seemed some of what you said hit home. But at that last part, he raises his piercing blue eyes to yours.

“You’re wrong… All Might’s smile isn’t about his own ego. He smiles so that people in trouble know everything will be OK. So they don’t feel scared. As long as the hero is still smiling, you know he’s going to win in the end. Being the symbol of peace isn’t about him, it’s about giving the world hope!”

Your heart flutters. It’s not so much the words he said—you’d heard the same line a million times—but the fire in his voice as he said it. Naive as they may be, you can’t help but admire his convictions.

He catches the smile in your eyes, and gives you the biggest, doofiest, triumphant grin. You try to think of something cynical to say to burst that bubble of optimism. You can think of a few: People shouldn’t be symbols, they should be people. That smile is so forced; it’s obvious he’s hiding pain, and you’d rather face the honest truth, no matter how hard, than have hope that’s a lie.

Eh. Maybe you’d tell him later. Right now, you just want him to keep smiling.

“I know!” He rubs his hands together. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you—this way.”

“You cannot take me to a hero museum for a date!” you grimace.

He laughs, grabbing your hand and leading you, “Don’t worry, it’ll be good!”

 ****

The sun is orange in the sky over the ocean, painting the clouds with striking purple and yellow streaks reflected in the waves below. A warm breeze blows your hair back, ruffling Toshinori’s long bangs, and swaying the spiky parts like a field of barley.

“Wow,” you breathe, leaning over the railing of the boardwalk. He leans next to you.

“Better than the restaurant, huh?” he nudges you with his elbow.

“You could’ve at least chosen one of those fancy restaurants where the dishes are tiny, instead of a place you couldn’t eat!”

“Yeah, I really bungled this date thing,” he laughs, hand on his forehead.

How soft would his hair would feel if you twined your fingers through it right now, you wonder? The urge to grab him, and smash your lips against his coils inside you like a spring. But… you’re not sure if he would want that. He’s just so cute!

He offers his arm in a gentlemanly fashion, tipping his head at you. You take it, and stroll together down the steps into the sand and along the beach, the sounds of crashing waves and sea birds like music around you.

“You know, this whole beach used to be covered with trash until about three months ago.

“You know, this whole beach used to be covered with trash until about three months ago. This was never publicized, but it was cleaned up by an aspiring hero who was inspired by All Might. Not everything heroes do is for fame and glory. Sometimes it’s just about helping the community.”

“Then how did you find out about it?”

He blanches. “Huh?”

“If it was never publicized, then how do you know who did it?”

A bright red river ejects from his lips, and he doubles over, hacking. That’s one way to change the subject. You rub his back as he recovers, but instead of helping him relax, he grows rigid and more on-edge.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t do it, if that’s what you’re thinking. You have no idea how much it hurts to see you in pain because of me. Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I…” You almost swear you weren’t going to. That you won’t, ever again. But… “No. I wish I could tell you that, so you can relax around me and not worry, but I’m not going to make a promise I can’t keep. If you passed out again, or if you were suffering in unbearable agony, if… if you were dying… I would use my power, with or without your permission. There’s no way I could let you die, not if I can do something about it.”

“Young lady…” he purrs, stepping in closer, “I like your spirit, but… I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me. I don’t want anybody else putting themselves through hell trying to be a hero for me.”

There’s a tug on your heart, and before you can stop yourself, you’re up on your toes, hands around his neck, your lips on his. He breathes in, frozen for an agonizing moment. You pull away, bright red, stammering apologies. Then his palm is cupping your jawline, thumb tracing tender circles over your hot cheek. He lowers his forehead, knocking it gently against yours, the side of your nose rubbing against his. His breath, so close, catching. Your eyes close. He angles his head, and kisses you back.

Eventually, you pull away, breathless. Your hands grip his narrow shoulders. “Listen. I appreciate you not wanting me to hurt myself for you. But you can trust me. If I decide to take some of your pain away, it’s because I decided to—get it?”

His face says he doesn’t. You pick up a seashell and toss it into the waves.

“Let me explain. The person this quirk is most dangerous to is its user. The hardest lesson to learn about it is how to say no.

“I was young when All Might debuted, and I loved him back then. His whole noble hero thing—always putting others first, always answering a cry for help, no matter how much danger he was in—I admired it. I wanted to be like that. And when other kids learned that my quirk could take away their scraped knees and bruised elbows, I was in high demand. I don’t think they meant to be selfish—they probably thought I was more resilient to pain as part of my quirk, but I just wanted to smile through it like that dumb bastard on TV. So I just kept taking, and smiling, until I was hooked up to machinery in a hospital bed for two weeks, barely hanging on.”

He grabs onto your hand and squeezes, almost so hard that it hurts. A pained look etches his face. “I’m sorry, I never meant for…”

“Calm down, it’s not like it’s your fault,” you laugh.

He flinches.

“I don’t blame All Might, either. It was my own stupid mistake. That’s how I learned you don’t emulate heroes! Noble sacrifice isn’t. That. Noble.” You poke his chest with your index finger to punctuate each word. “When you have something to offer the world, it’s important to know your limits, and to set boundaries. Because once people learn you’re willing to sacrifice yourself, they’ll take, and take until there’s nothing left.”

Toshinori touches his scar reflexively, fingers spreading protectively, pensively over the destroyed flesh. Then his hand clenches into a fist. “I understand… but still… if someone’s life is at risk, I can’t sit around and do nothing. Someone has to stand up and help, even if it’s dangerous. Someone has to be a hero, so everyone else can live happy lives!”

A smile spreads slowly across your lips. Partly a smile of admiration, from the vestiges of your youthful heart that still loves heroes… and partly the sly smile of a villain just before they dive into a victorious monologue.

“You’re right. That’s why I can’t do nothing if I see you in real trouble. If I decide to use my quirk to ease your pain, it’s not because you asked me to, or because I feel obligated. It’s because I want to. It’s because I weighed the risks, and decided. It hurts me to see you in pain, too, you know.”

His lower lip trembles. Before you know what’s happening, his hand is circling your waist, pulling your hips against his narrow ones, his mouth on yours. His lips are thin and chapped, but warm, making up for their lack of substance by softly giving way as you press against them, parting against yours. You let out a muffled moan. Your hands run over his back, exploring every jagged vertebrae and defined shoulder muscle hidden under his baggy dress shirt, finally coming to rest at the base of his neck, stroking the edge of that soft yellow hair you had longed to feel.

“Are you… using your quirk?” he pants.

“No.”

“Ah. Then this just feels really good.” He holds you tighter.

[genevievemd]

Can I ask you some questions about Ethan and Genevieve I discovered your page a week ago just finished all the fics I'm interested in your version of the characters

Oph MC is usually seen as flawless and perfect (like every other MC in choices) what are some bad habits or flaws your MC has and we know Ethan's flaws he is one of the few li's who have actual flaws but still I'd like to know your Ethan's flaws which are personal or you have imagined them. (English is not my first language can't explain my request more clearly than this)

Do you see them married with kids in the future ( ik the marriage part you have a fic about it but here is what I specifically want. both of their opinions on this matter before meeting each other and after spending a year or two dating)

Does Ethan have extended family that you have created like a cousin he is very close to or a best friend (if yes can you make a fic where Genevieve meets this best friend or cousin?)

Any hobbies or skills Genevieve has?(like sketching or piano or something idk why Genevieve gives me piano vibes)

Which med school did you have Genevieve go to?

Are they fresh air kind of people or city air kind of

Do they believe in aliens

Opinions on pineapple on pizza

And last but not the least body language ( signs their body gives off when they are anxious, scared, happy and excited)

Ik they are a lot of questions and you probably hate me for making you answer this question air but either way love your work♥️♥️✨💫

Yes! You can always ask me questions and I LOVE these questions. I’m very attached to Gen lol so I’m always willing to talk about her! 

Thank you for reading all my things! 

And I don’t hate you for all the questions, I answered every single one, under the read more because they got lengthy. lol 

First Question: 

I definitely don’t see Gen as perfect. I’ve kind of put a lot of myself in her, which I’ve never done with any other MC I’ve played. I kind of see Gen as as a perfectionist, to the point where she gets in her own way. She also, like Ethan, tends to put everyone’s problems on her shoulders and feels responsible for thing that are way out of her control. And though Gen is patient, sometimes too patient, she can hold a grudge. It’s unhealthy and she knows that, but she has a hard time over coming it. Like with Landry, deep down Gen wants to let it go and move on. But there’s a small part of her that will always feel angry and betrayed. Gen’s also not one to put her own needs ahead of others, it’s rare that she’ll ask for what she needs, unless she 100% trusts the person she’s confiding in. (I have a headcanon where her dad cheated on her mom when she was in high school, they didn’t get a divorce, but Gen was the one who discovered the affair and it left a sort of trust/abandonment issue.) She can be rather clingy in a relationship, at first, something Ethan was annoyed with, he’s rather independent I think, but once he understood where that was coming from it didn’t bother him as much. It was just Gen’s way of reassuring herself that Ethan was hers, that he wasn’t going anywhere. Plus her love language is physical touch/affection and spending time together. 

As for Ethan, I think he’s a very closed off person, has a hard time trusting people. He absolutely will push someone away, not because he necessarily wants to, but in order to protect himself. For me, I think one of the main reasons why he didn’t dive 100% into a relationship with MC was his fear that he’d lose them. That they would walk out the same way his mother did. I also think he’s way too stubborn and has a hard time admitting when he’s wrong. He won’t be the first to back down in a fight, even if that means it makes him unhappy. 

Second Question: 

I absolutely see Ethan and Genevieve married with kids. Gen has always wanted to get married, always wanted to be a mother. She’s had a pinterest board since high school thats dedicated to her dream wedding lol. When she found out Ethan wasn’t 100% on board with marriage, she was bummed. But at the same time, she was/is willing to let that go if it meant she could be with him. As long as she has Ethan, she doesn’t need a ring. Gen’s also always believed in soulmates and fate, she knew after their kiss in Miami that Ethan was her soulmate. 

As for Ethan, I think deep down he’s always wanted kids but never saw them as an option because he never thought he’d find the right person to settle down with. I think that also ties into his past with his mom. Same with marriage, when he wasn’t in love, it didn’t make sense to him. But once he was, realized he never wanted to lose Gen, he understood it. Once he recognized how much he loves Gen, he wanted everything with her. Marriage, kids, all of it. With MC/Gen he realized he could be the parent he wanted to be. 

I have a scene in chapter 3 or 4, I can’t remember which, in Love You Home where Ethan and Gen have the marriage/kids talk. 

Third Question:

I think Ethan has an extended family. We don’t know much about his parents, if they are only children or not, but I think either his mom or dad has a sibling or two. They’re definitely not close at all, he probably doesn’t see them. But they exist. Gen’s influence definitely persuades him to reach out, in the same way she influenced him to give his mom a second chance. 

As for a best friend? I don’t think he has one, I think Naveen is his closest friend at the moment. But I would love for him to get back in touch with maybe a childhood friend or friends from collage. Maybe even become friends with some fellow attendings at Edenbrook. Again, I think have Gen/MC around has really opened his eyes to different things and realizing how important friendships and relationships really are. 

And at some point I may write something for that. 

Fourth Question: 

I love that you see Gen as a piano person because I also see Gen as a piano person. She doesn’t play much now, lack of access to a piano and too busy with work but she does know how to play. She also speaks a baby bit of french, not enough to be fluent but enough to understand her maternal grandparents (they’re first language is french, so they speak it interchangeably with english). I also think she’s a pretty decent singer, she did choir in middle/high school.

As for hobbies, Gen is super into photography. She’s not the greatest, but she loves it. It ties into her being a super sentimental person, she likes to have tangible memories. She also loves journaling, she definitely has a bullet journal that she does herself. It’s relaxing for her, after a stressful day. And I don’t know if you’d count make up as a hobby, but Gen is super into it. On the daily, she really only wears eyeliner, mascara and a light lipstick, but on her days off she experiments and does more intricate looks. I have a headcanon where Ethan comes home and sees Gen in like a super dark lip with a kickass winged liner, very femme fatale, and he’s shookith. 

Fifth Question: 

I go back and fourth on what med school Gen went too, I googled top 100 med schools when I started open heart so I could pick a good one for her lmao Its a toss up between University of California or University of Pennsylvania. Gen is from New England, she grew up on the coast of Maine - not too far from Providence actually. So I sometimes think UPenn because Gen would want to be close to her family. But then sometimes I say Cali because she wanted the adventure of going off on her own. At some point I’m going to have to choose obviously but where not there yet lol Still a toss up. 

Sixth Question: 

Genevieve is absolutely a fresh air girl. She loves the beach and being outdoors. Boston is a bit of a change for her, being a city but it doesn’t take long to find some country air here in New England so she gets both. lol 

Seventh Question: 

LMAO I love this question. I never thought of this but you know what Gen absolutely believes in aliens. Not in a weird conspiracy kind of way, more in a scientific kind of way. There’s no way Earth is the only planet in the galaxy to have life. The galaxy is freakin huge, scientifically there is no way we’re the only planet with life. 

Eighth Question: 

Pineapple on pizza is a crime. End of story. No one should ever have pineapple on pizza. No just...no.

Ninth/ Last Question: 

I’m going to answer this for each of the things you listed in your question. 

Anxious: It’s very easy to see when Gen is feeling this way, at least to Ethan and her friends. She retreats inward and does this like twisting motion with her fingers. Like cracking your knuckles but not actually cracking your knuckles. She’ll also bite the corner of her lip. 

Scared: Gen doesn’t scare easy, but when she does she kind of hugs herself, makes herself smaller. Will hide behind things or run away. She’s a flight not a fight when scared. Especially if its like a spider, bug or snake - she’s terrified of those. That’s a freeze or run and scream situation. 

Happy: Super easy to tell when Gen is happy. She gets really smiley, a little bouncy. One of those people that does that little happy dance of swaying back and forth. 

Excited: Same as happy, big smiles. Jumps around. a little dancing. Lots of giggling. 

I’m gonna add one more here, for shipping purposes lol 

In Love: Gen is affectionate af, very touchy. She’ll show you how much she loves her way before she ever says it. Ethan realized she was in love with him months before she said it. Just by how much more open she was with physical affection. Always gently touching his arm, or kissing his cheek, always willing to hug him or snuggle in close. 

Thank you so so so much for the questions, these were so fun to answer! Feel free to drop in any time. I love Gen and Ethan so much, I will always answer any questions you want to ask me about them.

[davidmann95]

Comics this week (11/25/2020)?

Anonymous said: This week's floppies?

Anonymous said: This week’s comics?

Anonymous said: Have you read Red Hood #51 yet? It’s one of the best stories Jason has been in since Under the Red Hood and I don’t think I can go back to his normal stories after this

Anonymous said: God damn the Other History of the DC Universe has a pretty brutal call out of Superman, yet as a Superman fan I wasn’t offended or put off by it at all. Ridley specifically narrowed in on one of the key flaws of Superman, his need for public love and approval. What did you think of the portrayal of Supes?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on "The Other History of the DC Universe" and why it's already one of the greatest comics of all time?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on "Other History"?

X-Men #15: Heck yeah, Quiet Council discussing protocol, this is what I come to Jonathan Hickman’s X-Men for, and Cyclops getting his Captain America in Hickvengers moment.

X of Swords: Destruction: Look this rules and I guess I understood the Arakko story by the end but not the Otherworld/Captain Britain stuff, and it’s the former that’s gonna matter to Hick-Men going forward. But I don’t care if it put a ‘_ of 22′ counter across the top, if a crossover is for real going to demand you buy 22 comics in 3 months for you to see the entire core story you need to be screaming that from the rooftops with every single interview that it’s genuinely the whole thing that’s essential, because editorial claiming that you should totally get everything aside that’s not how crossovers have actually worked since the 90s no matter how many checklists and reading orders may be provided. This whole thing really sorta felt like the Infinity of this run, good stuff but ultimately Hickman serving a master beyond telling his own story - in this case trying to provide a forcible on-ramp from Marvel’s hottest book to all the ancillary related stuff.

Shang-Chi #3: This continues to be a really solid little mini with some poignant bits.

Power Pack #1: Haven’t read much if anything with them in it before, but as good as I could have hoped of Ryan North’s first post-Unbeatable Squirrel Girl Marvel gig.

Fantastic Four: Antithesis #4: Fine, but it would have been so much funnier if Waid’s last Marvel work before finally returning to DC had been that cancelled Squadron Supreme two-shot.

Daredevil #24: God so goooooood. And next issue’s next week?!

The Department of Truth #3: Imagine going literally any duration back in time, handing this to someone who’d read and even enjoyed his work, and explaining “THAT’S the level James Tynion is going to end up operating on”.

BANG!: My shop got the TPB this week of the recent mini by Kindt and Torres, and this is a top-notch reimagining of assorted 80s action/pseudo-pulp archetypes into something modern and strange and delightful, that while technically concluding somewhat tidily if the sales aren’t there is set up to go on for as long as the creative team has ideas for it. It taps into that America’s Best Comics/Planetary/Adventureman energy for a slightly different branch of genre storytelling, and even if like me it’s not an iteration you grew up with it’s definitely worth your money and attention.

Dark Nights: Death Metal: The Multiverse Who Laughs: It’s fine, whatever, just a buncha little Dark Multiverse stories...except for the last story, where the Twilight Zone-esque shocker final twist is that being black in America and thereby constantly experiencing the constant low-grade terror of the background radiation of systemic racism essentially acts as a vaccine against Scarecrow’s fear toxin, which...okay??? It’s written by a black man so it’s not as if I think it’s offensive, but particularly given that given the rules of the Dark Multiverse one of the three characters in there had to have imagined this possibility, and that then The Batman Who Laughs must’ve seen it and gone “Hell yes, all about this, definitely one of the 52 scariest of all possible universe”, it’s a serious candidate for weirdest comic of the year.

Legion of Superheroes #11: This is an excellent kickoff to a 3 or 4-issue arc so I have absolutely no idea how it’s going to reach some kind of season finale next month.

Action Comics #1027: Romita Jr.’s deteriorating by the day but I did like his take on the Phantom Zone, and I feel like this while taking it a bit farther than I’d prefer still convincingly sells the idea of Superman just being absolutely fed up after a truly awful day.

Justice League Dark #28: So is this the end of the run, Future State notwithstanding? Shocking how coherently it held together through the transition in writers, and I really hope it says and so does Ram V to take it in a direction wholly his own.

Wonder Woman #767: Substantially improved now that it’s not working off the completely bizarre and increasingly uncomfortable ‘buddy-cop’ premise.

Red Hood #51: GOOD NOW?! I checked it out because of the rec above and because I was curious how someone would try and salvage the concept post-Lobdell, and while it obviously isn’t literally by him, Shawn Martinbrough and Tony Akins are for all the world doing a Christopher Priest Relaunch with this tonally and aesthetically; I think it’s even a direct sequel to Priest’s Batman: The Hill oneshot from decades ago. I sure hope this isn’t a two-issue filler run with the book either cancelled or reshuffled after Future State, because this has all the makings of an excellent crime comic.

Suicide Squad #11: I’ll probably check out Taylor’s Revolutionaries book once that happens, so I guess mission accomplished. Fine little run.

The Other History of the DC Universe #1: I heard someone on Twitter say this is the best thing that’s come out of superhero comics since HoXPoX, and I don’t know if I’m on that level with it but that is absolutely a fair conclusion. I’ll be honest, I had measured expectations here from having seen some of Ridley’s past comics work - I figured it’d be a perfectly solid book with a few standout moments, but instead it throws out all the haymakers in the world and emerges as one of my favorite comics of 2020, even given we’re only seeing the one issue this year. I can only judge so much because it feels like a lot of what we see in this debut is going to be completely reframed through the perspectives of other characters in subsequent entries, but standalone this is a brutal, intimate, brilliant character study set against the backdrop of a hazy dreamscape vision of the history of DC reformatted as needed to fit the concerns in play here (though the dates presented are so specific I wonder if aspects of this are leftovers of the original version of 5G), and probably as close as we’re going to see to a ‘trilogy capper’ to The Golden Age and New Frontier. That’s why the take on Superman here works, as much a product of the worst of his mass-consciousness image as the Superman of DKR but meshed with a profound understanding of what makes him tick as a character that makes the inherently compromised version on display here palatable, and a believable extrapolation of the Silver/Bronze Age’s version of him when that’s the era this series is thus far working as a contrast to. And god, the art. I always liked him fine enough, but even with finishes by Andrea Cucchi and colors by Jose Villarrubia I never could have imagined Giuseppe Camuncoli putting out the likes of this, and Steve Wands’s lettering is doing at least equal legwork in defining the look of the book. There have been several impressive titles out of Black Label at this point - Last Knight on Earth, Rorschach, Strange Adventures, and especially Harleen - but nothing else has come close to demonstrating the potential power of the imprint as a vehicle for creators taking this iconography and doing something radical and unrestrained and phenomenal with it.