#I hope that the title of the comic makes sense to everyone now

[sweetandglovelyart]

Knightfall in Dream Land - Page 6

Meta Knight begins his long fall to Popstar’s surface and passes by some familiar faces on the way down.

[belovedspector]

Love at First Sight's for Suckers (At Least, It Used to Be)

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Jake can’t help but notice you when you become a regular at his favorite diner.

Content: Fluff!

A/N: Title is from “I Never Planned on You” from Newsies. I’ve never written for Jake before, and I haven’t read the comics, so I don’t have much to go off of, but I figured I’d give it a shot. I hope I did okay! Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

Jake Lockley knows his place. He’s the protector of the system, keeping Marc and Steven out of harm’s way and doing Khonshu’s dirty work. He doesn’t have time for “earthly pleasures,” as Khonshu had once put it. He doesn’t really have a life outside of protecting his alters and the travelers of the night, and he’s fine with that. He’s content to lurk in the shadows if it means Marc and Steven getting to live their best lives. He treasures what interaction he does get, when he’s driving his cab through the city or getting food late at night after a mission. He tries not to dwell on it, though; there’s no sense in mourning what he can’t have.

Jake notices everything. It’s his job, to always be on high-alert, even when he’s not the one fronting. So, when you start showing up at his favorite diner every Friday night like clockwork, he notices. He observes from afar. From that first time you walked in, the bell tinkling to announce your presence, he’d been…interested in you. He’s not sure why—it’s not like you pose a threat. You should fade into the background, just like everyone else.

But, you don’t.

Jake can’t help but take note of everything you do—the way you always say your “please”s and “thank you”s to the waitress, your soft laugh, your sweet smile, the ungodly amount of sugar you put in your coffee. He’s good at watching people; it’s part of his job, after all, so he’s able to absorb you and your habits without drawing suspicion from you or anyone else. Some might call it creepy, but Jake means no harm, and he can’t help his…infatuation with you. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him.

One night, he finds himself rambling as he drives around the city. He likes to talk out loud to himself in the safety of his cab; it gives him a chance to make sense of his thoughts, and it’s not like he has anyone else to share them with.

He starts off by talking himself through the details of his upcoming mission, but he soon finds his mind wandering to bright eyes and the scent of coffee. You.

“She’s really something, huh?” Jake says to himself. “I—I don’t know what it is about her. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I think you humans call it a ‘crush.’” Khonshu suddenly appears hunched over in the back seat of Jake’s cab, and, if he was a less skilled driver, Jake absolutely would have crashed. As it is, he jumps almost imperceptibly in his seat, swerving the tiniest bit before regaining control of the vehicle.

“What?” Jake asks, not even sparing Khonshu a glance in the rear-view mirror. He’s used to the god’s antics by now.

“It appears you have a crush, Jake Lockley.”

“I don’t get crushes,” Jake protests. “Don’t have time for that shit.” He grips the steering wheel more tightly, the leather of his gloves straining against his knuckles.

“You’re right; you don’t have time,” Khonshu agrees, “so I suggest you nip this little problem in the bud, before it interferes with our work.”

“What, you want me to kill her?” he deadpans.

“No, nothing that extreme. I was going to suggest finding a new diner.”

“But I like that diner.”

“Then you’d best find a way to ignore the girl.”

With that, Khonshu disappears, and Jake mutters some choice words about the bird in the quiet of his car.

It’s Friday night again. Jake sits alone at his usual booth—in the corner, with his back to the wall, so he can continually scan the entire diner for any threats. He alternates between sipping at his coffee and taking bites of his blueberry pie while scanning the newspaper.

The door opens, the bell ringing along with it, and Jake instinctively looks up.

It’s you.

Jake casts his eyes back down to the sports page. Khonshu had given him orders, and he intends to follow them.

His plan is going great. He’s not thinking about you, not even a little bit. But, shit, now he’s thinking about how he’s not thinking about you. Does that count as thinking about you?

Jake returns his coffee cup to the table with a little more force than necessary. He can feel a headache coming on.

Get it together, Lockley.

He looks up again to do another sweep of the interior, when he notices you’re not sitting in your usual spot. No, you’re…walking towards him. Surely, you’re just going to use the bathroom past his seat, right?

No such luck. You stop at his booth, standing awkwardly with your hands clasped in front of you.

Slowly, Jake moves his eyes from his newspaper and allows them to find yours. He’s never seen you up close before, and, God, you’re even more breathtaking when he can see the sparkle of your eyes and the way your lips curve upward into a soft smile.

“Um, hi,” you start, rocking a little on your feet. “Sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you had a pen?”

Jake’s not very well-versed in pickup lines, but he’s pretty sure that can’t be one, right? He stares at you for a few beats, dumbfounded that you’re really speaking to him, before he pulls himself together.

He clears his throat and answers, “Uh, yes.” He reaches for the pen he always keeps in his jacket pocket and hands it to you.

He can’t help but notice the way your soft, warm fingers brush against his as the pen exchanges hands.

“Thank you!” you say, and you sound so sincere. “I just wanted to do today’s crossword. I’ll have this back before you know it.”

“Sure,” Jake forces out as you turn on your heel, back to what he’s begun thinking of as “your” booth.

He goes back to his own paper, definitely not thinking about you and your sweet smile and soft hands. It’s by complete coincidence that the next page he turns to has the daily crossword puzzle. He’s never been much for puzzles; that’s more Steven’s thing. Still, he takes a look.

Across 1. An infatuation with another person

It’s five letters. It can’t be anything other than “crush.” Jake groans. He scans the rest of the clues and notices they all seem to revolve around love. It dawns on him that Valentine’s Day is fast approaching. So, maybe the universe isn’t totally fucking with him, after all.

Jake has just about finished his pie when you come bounding over. You don’t wait for him to look up before you’re speaking.

“Thank you again!” you say, placing his pen back on the table near his coffee cup.

You’re already turning to go back to your booth, but Jake can’t just let you go. Screw Khonshu’s orders, he thinks.

“Wait,” he calls to you. He half-expects you to ignore him, to keep walking away, but you do turn around and take a step closer to him. Shit, now he needs to think of something to say to you. “That was, uh, fast,” he says lamely.

You beam at him, and it’s just about the prettiest thing Jake has ever seen. “Oh, yeah, I used to do them with my dad all the time, so I’ve gotten pretty good at them.” Your eyes drop to his newspaper that sits forgotten on the table, still open to the puzzle page. “Oh, do you do crosswords, too?” you ask, and you look like you’re genuinely interested in his answer.

“Oh, uh, not really.” Jake’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck nervously. Since when does he get nervous?

“Ah,” you say, nodding wisely, “you must be more of a Sudoku guy.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Great conversation skills, Lockley, he chastises himself.

“Well, thanks again for the pen. I hope I didn’t keep you from your Sudoku for too long…” You trail off, and Jake realizes, belatedly, that you’re waiting for him to offer his name.

“Jake,” he provides, putting on his most charming smile.

You smile right back, telling him your own name.

“Pretty name,” he remarks.

“Thanks, I got it for my birthday.”

Jake just stares at you for a moment before the joke lands, and then he’s laughing—like, genuinely laughing. He can’t remember the last time this has happened.

He notices you seem a little flustered. Maybe he laughed too hard? Maybe it wasn’t even a joke, and he just totally misread the situation? Maybe—

“Wow, I don’t think anyone’s ever actually laughed at that one,” you say with a slight chuckle of your own.

“I liked it,” Jake says honestly, as if you couldn’t already tell. Before he can second guess himself, he’s asking, “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Oh!” A look of surprise crosses your face. “Um, yeah, I’d like that. May I?” you ask, gesturing to the bench seat across from him.

“Please,” he says with a wave of his hand.

You slide into the booth as Jake gets the attention of the waitress and orders two coffees.

“Anything else?” the waitress asks, looking between the two of you expectantly, pen ready against her notepad.

“The pie’s really good,” Jake tells you. “My treat.”

You seem hesitant. “Oh, no, I couldn’t—”

“Come on,” he encourages with a smile.

“It is really good,” the waitress chimes in. 

“Well, okay,” you relent. “One slice of”—you look down at the table to scan the menu briefly—“chocolate cream pie, please.”

“Coming right up,” the waitress says with a smile and a click of her pen.

The time passes quickly, and the conversation between you and Jake flows as freely as the coffee. All that’s left of your pie is an empty plate with a few stray crumbs. You’re laughing at some comment Jake made when you glance down at your watch.

“Shit,” you say, your brows furrowing together in worry.

“Everything okay?” Jake asks.

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” you say. An apologetic look crosses your face.

Jake checks his own watch. 2:53 am. He really should be getting back home, so Steven and Marc can wake up in the morning without suspecting anything.

“Can I drive you home?” he offers.

“Oh, that’s okay.” You shake your head. “I’m just a couple blocks over.”

“It’s late. I’d feel better if I knew you got home safely.”

“You’re sure it’s no trouble?” you ask hesitantly.

“Not at all,” he says with a smile. He’s smiled a lot tonight.

“Well, lead the way,” you say as you both exit the booth.

Jake throws a wad of cash on the table—more than enough to cover the coffee and pie—and walks you to his cab parked out front.

“You’re a cab driver?” you ask, sounding intrigued.

“I am,” Jake says as he opens the passenger’s door for you.

You pick up right where you left off at the diner, intermittently giving Jake directions to your apartment. He doesn’t want the night to end, but, soon enough, he’s parking in front of your building.

You start to unbuckle your seat belt but pause and turn to him. “Hey, can I borrow your pen again?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Jake says, digging it out of his pocket and handing it over once more.

You take it with a smile and reach into your pants pocket. You pull out a crumpled napkin and quickly write something before handing both the napkin and pen to Jake.

Jake looks down to find your name and phone number written on the napkin.

You smile, looking a little shy. “In case you want to see me before next Friday,” you explain.

Jake doesn’t even think about the implication that you’ve noticed him at the diner every week, just like he’s noticed you. No, he’s too excited about the fact that you want to see him again, maybe even to go on a proper date. He hopes you can’t tell that he’s blushing in the dim glow of the cab’s ceiling light.

“Good night, Jake,” you say, finally unbuckling your seat belt and opening the door.

Normally, he’d do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for you, but he’d been too caught up in this surreal moment. Next time, he thinks, because there definitely will be a next time.

“Good night,” he echoes, still in a bit of a daze. He watches as you walk up the stairs to your apartment, making sure you’re safely inside before he pulls away from the curb.

Jake will deal with Khonshu’s wrath over disobeying orders. It will be more than worth it, if it means getting to see you again.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „  LOVER, LOVER

tw. noncon, somno, implied size kink, praise, possessiveness, panty stealing, breeding, thoughts of violence, unreliable narrator, yandere esque wordcount. 4.8k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a follower who i'm so very grateful for ♡ thank you thank you thank you for the commission!!! clingy bokuto is just such a joy, i love him so much and i hope you do tooooo!! i really hope you like where i've taken your idea and that you enjoy reading my love! ♡♡♡ and ty ty ty to rhi and yuli beta-ing!

bokuto koutaro x fem!reader

There’s a little glimmer in Konoha’s eyes— but he’s quick to swallow his laugh. “So you’re telling me there’s no you and Bo?” he confirms, thin brow raising high on his visage to almost comical effect. 

“There’s no me and Bo!” you quickly say back, trying not to laugh too when the gray haired man’s pretty eyes flick up to meet you. Bokuto’s talking, his loud voice raising the energy in the room to a peak, and you happily watch how he lights up everything around you. There’s so much happiness in his smile, and the way he carries himself, but it’s unmatched by the way he looks when he’s looking at you.

It’s only when you feel the full force of Bokuto Koutaro that you can truly, deeply appreciate him. And the force of nature he becomes when he’s in his element.

“I love him like a friend! But… I’m happy right now. I don’t want to ruin an amazing friendship for something more.” You admit it all while watching him wave his hands around while talking, brighter than anything else in the room. “He knows! I’ve told him.” As if always sensing your eyes on him, he stares back at you for a second, before his cheeks pull up even more and he scrunches his nose your way. And the ashy blond by your side slowly takes a sip from his drink, until you look back at him.

“Did Bokuto retain that info? Because…” he trails off, and shakes his head. You continue to look at your mutual friend for what feels like a while, as he slurps the coke through his straw with an unneeded amount of noise.

+

“Thank you so much,” your voice barely travels loud enough for the bartender to smile, watching you carry the plate all the way towards the table. Koutaro had thrown the biggest fuss when you so much as suggested staying home tonight, and- you don’t often have the heart to tell him no. Your best friend is splayed out in dramatic fashion over the tables of your booth by the time you make it back— full ‘woe is me’ as he’s about to break the tables under his weight. Something Akaashi is clearly doing his best to avoid, with the white-knuckled grip on the edge of the furniture as he sends you a desperate glance.

“Bo, you’re going to break it,” you just give them a little shake of your head, but it’s enough to have the silver haired giant perking up and looking over his shoulder for you. It’s a surprise even to you that he even heard you over the noise— less of a surprise when he’s picking the plate out of your hands before you can place it down and shoves the thing in front of Atsumu’s nose, and grabs your arm to pull you into his side.

“There’s my favorite girl! Don’t run off without me, I miss you,” he pouts down your way, and you can’t help but wonder how it’s possible that a muscled, grown man like Bokuto is as childishly needy as he is tall. And he is very tall. Despite it though, you’ve only ever known him to be gentle and kind to everyone and everything, a bundle of sunshine on two very muscular legs, and a massive pushover for- well, you. You met Bokuto when you got paired up with Akaashi on a final project— stressed to hell under last year of high school pressure. Keiji was the hardworking, quiet type; and finding Bokuto attached to your hip afterwards was just kind of par for the course.

It didn’t shock you when the light-haired, boyish extrovert took a liking to you— as the type of guy to see the good in everyone. It does still shock you a little that years later, he’s the one claiming the title of your best friend. Even with all the unbridled chaos he carries with him. The -lock pinkies and tell secrets in the dark- type best friend.

Atsumu takes a quick glance your way before holding out a shot toward you, and grins. “Yer goin’ first, aintcha? How’s about ya try outdoin’ Bokkun or Omi Omi for once. C’mere, I’ll make sure ya don’t have to hang out with that sap all night.” It’s just a joke, you know Atsumu well enough by now to know so, but an arm tightens around your waist.

Koutaro’s leaning into your body but staring down at his years-long teammate with a silence uncharacteristic of the tall spiker. His big eyes narrow the slightest bit as the uncomfortable void grows thick. Atsumu isn't even looking, already prompting others to take their own shots in the short time it took for him to get more than tipsy, with a healthy flush and lidded eyes. But you are looking, and it’s strange enough for you to give him a questioning frown over your shoulder.

“Bo?” He doesn’t say anything. “Earth to Bokuto?” you try again, attempting to laugh it off. There’s a thoughtful sort of glaze over his eyes before he grabs your cheeks in his hand and makes you look up at him.

Bokuto’s always been touchy. It’s a fact you had to get used to extremely quickly, when on only your third time meeting, he’d flung his arms over your shoulders and kissed you, backing you against a wall right in the middle of the very busy halls. It had taken Akaashi a lot of back and forth explaining to fix that one, but you like to think you became better friends despite it all. It was forgiven a long time ago. But the way he holds you now, no enthusiasm boiling over, or as much as a smile, feels off. “Don’t listen to him. Don’t drink like that tonight.” The serious tone in his voice throws you off even more, and you roll your eyes.

“Why not? It’s the weekend- We’re with friends.” Whatever he hears in your voice makes his brows tense more. And it makes you mutter softer, “Neither of us are driving either.”

He licks his lips with a strange sort of disdain. You can’t quite place where you’ve seen this version of Bokuto before, but it makes you feel a bit apprehensive, and you say his name again. This time he nods, and even puts on a smile; though it doesn’t reach past his cheeks. “Why get wasted when we can do that any other time, though? I wanna have a good time with you. And I can’t enjoy myself when I constantly have to search the dance floor for you- or check which freak is hitting on you, or trying to do something— You know you become so defenseless.” His voice gets pouty and exasperated quick, and you know he probably doesn’t get that what he’s saying might be hurtful.

It’s fine. This is Bokuto Koutaro, the guy who spent three whole years using every single free opportunity to impress you with his thoughtfulness, and to get you to admit he really was ‘your favorite person’. Even kittens have their claws, so it’s fine. “I’m not planning on getting wasted— and even if I did, I’m a grown woman.” He opens his mouth to talk more, but you’re quick to cut him off by taking his hand and squeezing his fingers with a softer sigh. “I appreciate your worry, Bo, but I’m allowed to have fun.” You expect that to be the end of it.

Bokuto is good at pushing boundaries, but he’s also softer with you. Always was so willing to listen. So you are more than a little shocked when he doesn’t settle down, getting more up into your face instead by staring down with a scorching fire in his eyes.

“No, you can’t. Not when they’re around,” Koutaro harshly replies, low in volume. You slowly brush his hand away to look back at Atsumu for support. The blond surely didn’t hear what was just said, but you’re not sure you’re comfortable with what it’s implying. If it’s implying anything at all— and you look back at your friend with more confusion. But before you have the chance to ask, Kuroo Tetsuro, mutual high school acquaintance and ever the disrupter of the peace, chimes in with a loud cheer and swoops you up into his arms to slam two whole shots down before you with a grin.

“Chug ‘em, or you have to get up on stage with me.” Bokuto’s face fades from your view with Kuroo’s exuberance, the light in his tone instantly calming your anxiety. You don’t want to fight with your best friend over nothing, your thoughts quickly chant, and Kuroo’s a great way to pick your mood back up. “That strip pole is calling our names.” You snort as he slides the glasses even closer, dragging out the scraping noise, and forget about the weird interaction almost as soon as it came.

+

You’re just being friendly. Bokuto knows this, knows you’re inherently, deeply wired with the ability to make it seem like the person you’re talking to is the most interesting thing you’ve laid eyes on all day. And sure, it definitely wasn’t the first thing he noticed— that probably would have been the way your eyes glistened like two fire beacons with those long, long lashes aimed at him, and then your fine fucking body; he’s a healthy, young-blooded man after all —but it was definitely a prominent factor. Despite your quiet, reserved nature, he’d been glowing coming off of the first time talking to you, like everything he was saying was just so… interesting.

It’s a stretch to call you naïve, because you’re not. You’re smart, like Akaashi is, and you managed to pull the two of them through the disaster of a final assignment upon just meeting them. But there’s something in your smile, in the way you look at the world through wide, inviting eyes that seems to beg for his attention. It makes him want to squeeze you and never let you go, if he’s being honest. He knows he’s supposed to take it slower, knows that for all your kindness, you’re not one to rush into things.

But he’s been more than patient in his eyes, and because of it, you’re now staring up at Kuroo with those pretty giggles and nods that sure as fuck made him fall head over heels for you. He’s not unreasonable. He cares about you enough to allow his friends to get near. He’s trying, truly! But Kuroo’s arm around your waist is a bit too much, blood boiling as he balls his fists so tight his knuckles turn white. The instinct to land his fist straight into Kuroo’s teeth is pushed down with a deep breath, before he wipes those sweaty palms on his pants and makes his way to you with a plastered-on smile. It falters only a little when you look up as he calls your name, and it makes his stomach tie into tight knots.

You’re so fucking good, so pretty, so— perfect; it’s really no wonder everyone else tries to cut in. If he didn’t always feel like his heart was about to swallow him up, he’d understand. You’re magnetic, a vision of his future. If he loved you any less, he might’ve already beaten Kuroo’s face bloody. He likes the guy a whole bunch, but not enough to give you up. He can only dream that you feel the same.

That you think of him when you fall asleep, when you wake up, when you glide your dainty hand into your panties and rub— “Hey, Bo,” you smile at him, before giving him a poke in the chest. It’s an adorable display of how drunk you’re getting, and he has to fight back the glare he longs to send Kuroo for getting you this far in the first place. What if he wasn’t around, if he was preoccupied and hadn’t been watching you like a hawk all evening? But then you lean in a little grin. “Came to find me?”

Of course he did, his mind chants while taking your hand in his, he’d fucking chain himself to your side if you’d allow it. He doesn’t need to say that for it to be clear to anyone watching, right? You’re teasing. So he just pats your head, and pushes himself between you and Kuroo against the wall. “You ran off without me,” his pout is back, and you give a soft ‘sorry’.

“I was going to give ‘er back, Bo,” Kuroo chants to his side, but he doesn’t waste a second looking over. If he does, he still might plant his fist into his face— and you’d get upset with him. And he’d rather hurt anyone who so much as looks at you and then himself than have you upset with him; he really does love you a whole lot, you know? There’s other ways to get you out of here— and you are so very sweet to him when he plays it off. Something about a taxi and an incoming storm is enough to have you collecting your stuff and waving everyone goodnight, letting Kuroo squeeze you in a hug much too long for his liking.

He must show it on his face, because Akaashi’s dark, questioning eyes meet his; and he takes that as the sign to get out of there. He’s getting antsier by the second. And can’t help but get handsy, wrapping his arm around your waist as soon as Kuroo’s releasing you. He bumps his friend aside and smiles over his shoulder without the slightest bit of regret. “G’night, guys!” You don’t get to say bye, and that’s just fine by him. The way he has to hold you up a little to get into the taxi is too, preferable even. 

He’s so glad you’re just a little thing, really. Every part of him shows you up size-wise, and selfishly, it makes him think that he was really made for you. To protect you, hold you close. Shelter you under his body when the first drips become a full on shower. He thanks whatever deity it is that starts the downpour then, because a few raindrops run down your lashes and the tip of your nose when you look up at him getting under the overhang. He’s getting too excited, it rolls in waves off of him until he can barely contain himself. You look like everything he’s ever wanted— fuck, and how you smile at him. His hands are itching to push you up against a wall and kiss you until you’re crying out his name, maybe hike your legs up onto his shoulders.

You don’t seem the exhibitionism type, but then again— he doesn’t think you’d fight him on it. Would you? But he holds it in, and waits for you to get out from under the umbrella created by his arms. “Come on in. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to let you head home like this,” you breathe out with a sniffle, pushing at the door to your apartment. You go find some towels, leaving him in the middle of your house with adrenaline running through his veins. Now, he might not be the brightest, but this is an opening, isn’t it?

Akaashi said something about boundaries, and all he can think is that if you’re letting him into your house without a second thought, something must’ve changed. It must’ve. You might’ve turned him down once that while ago, when he was claiming your mouth in the hall— but that was then, and you both are older now, closer. He can’t help but snoop as you search through some back closet for spare clothing; entering the dark bathroom with a little sigh. Like he expected, your products are neatly displayed in the cabinet, hand towels freshly washed and folded, everything seeming more like a hotel than a house. His eyes land on the basket next to the bathtub, and a hot shiver runs up his spine.

Some lacy, frilly panties are just visible sticking out next to the sweater he met you in this morning— going tingly and burning all over his skin. He already can’t help but imagine you bouncing on his cock and tearing up at the stretch when you pout; knowing that this was underneath it is enough to set him up in flames. He glances over his shoulder, before quickly picking out the panties and bringing them up to his face. It smells of feminine products and laundry soap, but there’s a musk that's unmistakably you, and his cock twitches hard in his pants. You wore these for him, didn’t you? He feels himself chub up more the longer his thoughts wander—longing to just wrap the panties around his fist and fuck into them.

But your steps are returning, so he pockets the lingerie with quick hands and puts on his best smile. You peek your head into the door after knocking, cheeks a little shiny and warm as you hand him a towel and some fresh clothing. Big… clothing— that most definitely isn’t yours. It’s fine though, he bites through the sting in his soul, you can’t know how much he adores you, and loves you, and needs you all to himself. He hasn’t exactly made it clear, and you’re also unaware of just how fucking attractive you are, right? “It doesn’t look like it’ll clear up any time soon.” Your smile is gentle when you nod. “So you can stay over if you want to. I don’t mind!”

God, he could kiss you stupid. 

His hands are restless by the time the lights are all off, tossing and turning every second longer he has to remain on the extra mattress. Don’t you have any idea of how crazy you’ve made him now walking around in your short, loose fitting pajamas? It’s a domestic dream, and you’re front, center and back in every single thought. As he lays in the silence, there’s the soft sound of your chest rising and falling, of breaths softly slipping out of you— and for the nth time this night Bokuto has to admit to himself that he’s so in love with you it’s making him feel a bit sick.

You didn’t exactly make things easy on him. He still remembers calling up Akaashi every night for weeks after you rejected his advances, when you were struggling to meet his eyes after. And sure, he’d been a bit too enthusiastic. He knows that now, knows he scared you away; you’re shy, he understands. But this time is different. This time he’ll do it right. He sits up on the bed, can see how you’re slumped into the pillow. He could eat you up with how fucking cute you are. But he’s still careful as he calls your name, twice, before slowly getting onto the bed. You barely move, letting out just the faintest breath.

And Bokuto can’t help himself, he’s already leaning in to brush his thumb over your pouty lips. It’s not bad to look. He’s allowed to look. He does that all day already, studies your face like you’re his own personal universe. You would too, if you saw what he sees. Of course, it is a little different, because his cock is straining against the confines of his boxers every second longer he’s touching your soft skin, close enough to place a kiss on the tip of your nose. You breathe out, and he can almost convince himself it’s a moan. It’s enough to have him gripping himself through his shorts and biting his lip, hard. “God, f-fuck, baby.”

He nudges your head a little closer to him, and before he knows it, he's kissing you. There’s so much he wants to tell you— spill all of his love onto you without stopping, but he figures there will be time for that later. He holds himself over you into the kiss, chest heaving and foot tapping nervously up and down. His tongue swipes over yours, claiming you once again, and moaning into it when a little puff of air dusts over his skin. Could you be any cuter, any hotter? Even asleep you’re making him so hard it hurts, one hand moving down to squeeze his balls. It’s embarrassing, isn’t it, and he chuckles into your mouth when you move under him a little. “Sorry, I’ve just wanted you for so long,” he admits, pulls back and lines your neck with kisses too.

All the while your lids stay shut, and he’s careful to untie the front of your pajamas with the softest motions he can manage. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby, I swear. Give you everything.” As he trails his fingers down your body, you wiggle aside a bit, but not enough to escape his now greedy fingers. His cock bops between his thighs when he lands between your legs, and ever so patiently pulls the shorts down the softness of your thighs, swallowing through the tightness in his throat. “Oh, shit—fuck.” You’re perfect, and a shiver goes down his spine at the idea he might be a tight fit.

He can’t help it, he’s already dipping to kiss down your pussy, rubbing you up and down with first one finger, then two. You definitely moan though when he lays a lick on your covered clit and sucks it from the hood, his hips rutting against the bed with a low, rumbling whine. Precum is making his boxers stick to the head of his cock, but he’s much too preoccupied lapping up your folds and making them all messy and wet with his enthusiasm. He’s basically shaking, but how can he not be? He’s been picturing this for fucking years. Through every date, every hookup he’s had— you’d laugh if you knew.

He sucks harder, and slides his long fingers inside you to stretch the clenching, soft walls of your pussy apart; and fucks slowly into the soft of the pillows until that turns too excruchiating to continue. So instead he shoves his boxers out the way and takes the time to fully peel your panties off your legs, then places them apart. His cock is rock hard, flushed and throbbing an angry shade of red at having to wait, before he wraps his hand around himself and allows a few lazy pumps. Just enough for a clear drop of pre to bead at the tip before he’s lifting up your one thigh over his and lining up.

Your pussy is so hot, wet by his doing, and your face scrunched up just the slightest bit. It’s agony, really, baby. His thoughts are barely a strung together mess as the head of his cock slides between your bottom lips, neck and back tight from the adrenaline. This is what you do to him. Every night. He’s gonna cum if he keeps going— and he can’t, he can’t do that to you, not when he’s been dreaming of having you for so fucking long. But leaning down to kiss you doesn’t help, and you let out the prettiest whine when he starts pushing into you.

His breathing speeds up, sweat collecting on his brow. “Oh, baby. Baby, I—  fuck, I wanna go slow,” he moans back against your mouth, tasting your tongue, grabbing your tits with one hand. Everything’s fuzzy. But once the head pops in, it’s like a whole other world. You’re so fucking hot, pussy so soft and sucking him in like he belongs there— any thought of taking his time is gone. It’s impossible, his hips start pushing and pushing until he’s bottoming out and your slick, gushing pushy squelches when he pulls back. You’re godly. He clamps a hand down over your neck to keep you from bouncing too much as he pushes back in and drives himself as deep as he can go.

And back out, and then you’re making more noise. “Hmm-ugh?” Your face scrunches up hard when he fucks back into you, driving you open so deep he can feel where he’s hitting in your tummy, and moan long and high. “Ah—agh, Kou? Boku- to, wh—” you struggle to regain your consciousness when he pushes your knees back to your chest and uses his body to fuck even deeper, deeper— clenching around him so tight it’s making him lightheaded.

“I know, baby, I know. S’gonna feel good, I swear,” he’s clenching his teeth together so hard it hurts watching his fat cock push into your tight, little cunt again and again and again, watching slick gush out around his length. He can tell by your strained expression that whatever is going on in your brain is outnumbered by the way he’s pawing at your tits, or bumping his pelvis against that puffy nub.

And you do manage a stuttered, “Bokuto, s-stop,” but it’s hardly anything to be concerned about when you squeal and tear up at the circles he rubs into your clit. “What’re y’ doin, Bo?” Your tears bead so prettily at your lash line. Your body shudders under his when he raises a leg and uses it to fuck into you faster, driving the air out of you with each wet ‘pap’ of skin meeting skin. His balls hit your ass each time he bottoms out, and make his cock feel like it’s going to explode, but he couldn’t stop if he tried. With your brows screwed together and your face all hot and cheeks glossy, it’s hard to think of anything other than fucking you full of his cum.

Of bouncing you on his cock until you’re crying out for him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you so much, ‘m almost there.” He wants to give you everything— fucks deep and hard like maybe that’ll convey his thoughts better. He’s just not that good with words, you see, he’s tried and failed that so many times. But this, rutting into you like your pussy is his personal heaven; and that’s what it is— it leaves you breathless and reaching to dig your nails into his shoulder. He moans and grunts, whispering your name, fucking into your warm clutch until his balls pull tight and his thighs start aching. “Gonna cum, angel. Gonna fuck y’full- you like that, right? You want it?”

He’s rambling out without any collected thoughts, just focussed on watching as you suddenly pull tight like a bow and unravel before him, trying and failing to push his hand from between your legs. “Ohh-fuck— ugh-fuckk~” You cum with an adorable, little whine that makes it impossible for him to hold it any longer. He slumps over you as cum spurts into you, emptying his balls in your tight, little pussy until every last drop is inside. When he pulls back, his hot, white cum runs out like you’ve been entirely fucked full of him— and it makes his tongue drop out to lean in and kiss your cunny until he dies between your legs.

He could go happy, you know? But as he tries to hike your thighs over his shoulders, you must finally regain some of your situational awareness, because you’re placing a foot to his shoulder and pushing him away from you with wide eyes and tears running down your cheeks. “What are you doing, Bokuto? Wh- I- why would you—”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he’s instantly cooing, grabbing your ankles and keeping you in place despite your struggling. It’s so cute, but you don’t have to be scared of him. He adores you, baby— wouldn’t hurt you for anything. Everyone else, but never you. “I’ve got you, don’t freak out.” He allows himself to snuggle up to your body, pulling you in nice and close despite the way you’re glaring through your tears. It’s the stress talking, of course, but you’ll be fine. He’ll make sure of it. “You want to come again?”

“No,” you instantly snap, and though you’re pushing at his chest, it’s so easy to keep you nice and warm pinned between his strong arms and chest. You huff a little, and look between his face and your bodies, before breathing out sharply. “Bokuto, please, I—”

“Stop wiggling, baby,” his voice comes out a little too low and sharp for his liking. “Just lay here with me for a bit. And then in a second, I’ll help you clean up, and make you something warm to drink. The whole nine yards, I promise.” He’s smiling, so fucking wide it’s making his cheeks ache. But he can’t help it, you see? You’re such a dream. “I’m so happy, baby. So, so happy, you have no idea.”

As he squeezes a little more, kinda, sorta forcing your face to rest against his collarbones; you finally stop pushing back against him, and let out a soft whimper of his name. “You’re my favorite person in the world, y’know that? I know I say it a lot, but— I really do mean it.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2022. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[mazeinthemiroh]

third impressions.

Genre: Crack, slight angst??, romance

Word Count: 2.4k

Requested?: Yes

Synopsis: Bangchan is introduced to a new choreography, who he makes a horrible first and second impression on. Is there any way he can recover?

Warnings: Cursing, comical violence/slapstick??, Minho being his iconic self

A/N: This was very fun to write indeed. This is my first Chan fic! Can you believe it?? My bias and I've only just written a fic about him?? Don't worry, there will plenty more to come. And umm, yeah, that's about all I have to say to you guys. I hope you all enjoy, please let me know what you think <3

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

As a natural planner, Bangchan had never planned or expected things to go oh so terribly wrong.

A few comebacks under the teams' belt had Stray Kids bubbly and excited for the next. As their leader, Chan did well to make sure everyone had their input and contribution to the comeback. There was a lot to prepare for, but that was okay. He had done this plenty of times. Writing lyrics, producing, coming up with the theme of the album, singing the parts, organising the choreo, etc. There was so much to think about. And he did it every time, without fail.

Only this time was different.

"Has everyone gotten a hang of the choreo?"

Your voice echoed off the walls of the practice room after you had gone through the choreography for Stray Kids' new title track.

It was clear that Chan looked at you with interest. He was intrigued by you. Why had Minho brought you to them? It was usually the same choreographers each and every comeback. And here you were, a newbie. It felt kind of off to him. He would of at least wanted to meet you first but now it felt like a confrontation. Making your acquaintance was a goal for him; being the leader meant that building rapport was important.

The members could sense that Chan's brain was going haywire because he was very quiet. It wasn't that anything was wrong. Things just felt like they had fallen out of the same usual routine, and Chan didn't like that.

"How about we take a break?" You said cheerfully, sensing there was some sort of tension, but you couldn't pinpoint who it came from.

The members went to drink some water and stretched their muscles carefully.

Minho splashed water on his face and wiped it over his skin with his palms. He then looked over to Chan, whose eyebrows furrowed with thought.

"What's up with you then?" Minho poked at his side, "don't like the new choreography."

"It's not the choreography" Chan muttered, shaking his head. "It's the choreographer."

"What's wrong with Y/N?" Minho felt slightly defensive, "hey I only choose the best of the best for our team, so if you have a problem then you need to deal with it yourself."

"It's not that," Chan gulped down his water, "I just wished you'd introduced me to them before. I feel like it's awkward without getting to meet someone and work with them closely."

Minho grinned slightly. "Ahh, that's right. You're all politeness." He took another swig of water before sliding the cap on, doing an elegant bottle flip in one swift movement and landing it perfectly. "Go talk to them, then."

"What, now?" Chan exhaled a chuckle and looked at his friend, whose eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"Go for it. Say your hellos and whatnot. It gives us a longer break, at least," Minho placed a hand on Chan's back and pushed him towards your direction.

Chan watched you from the other side of the room. You were alone, and he didn't feel that was fair. You were like their special guest, after all. So, after taking a deep breath, he did as Minho said, walking over to you casually.

"Uh, hey," were his first words. He immediately cursed himself. Did he sound dumb? Gosh, why was he overthinking everything?

"Hey," you smiled at him, fiddling with the water bottle in your hands.

"I'm Chan by the way, nice to meet you" he extended a hand for you to shake. Why was he being so formal and rigid? Where was the carefree Chan gone?

You laughed at this, sensing his nervousness. "I know who you are. Nice to meet you though. Officially, at least."

He chuckled at this, gazing at the floor. Why did his cheeks feel warm? And gosh, he couldn't stop smiling, dimples on full display.

"Are you okay with the choreo or did you come over here to tell me you hate it?" You teased playfully, drinking some water for yourself.

"No no nooo no no I like the choreo it's very good very dynamic and.. yeah."

Wow, such a way with words. Chan scolded himself internally.

"Really?" You quirked an eyebrow up. He didn't sound very convincing. "Because you were messing up quite a bit back there," you said gently, hoping he would appreciate your honesty.

"Oh gosh, really?" Chan's heart dropped a bit, discouraged. "Where did I go wrong? Was it the bridge part? I feel like it was then. The footwork there is very quick and it's hard for my body to move like that, I think it'll take some getting used to-"

"Hey don't worry about it," you shook your head and reached out, placing a hand on his forearm to soothe him, "we've only gone through it a couple of times and we've got so much more practice time ahead it's really nothing to worry about."

Chan felt electric shocks spike through him when your skin slid in his. Suddenly he felt a bit dizzy as more warmth rushed to his head.

"Thanks," was all he could let out, looking deep into your eyes. He couldn't believe he could even hold eye contact with you for that long before he tore his eyes away and cleared his throat.

"I should, uh, probably stretch more" he gestured behind him before shuffling away after you withdraw your hand from him.

You licked your dry lips as you watched him stretch his body again. You sincerely hoped you hadn't upset him with what you said.

Chan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. The blue and pink lights attached to the wall pulsed like a heartbeat, illuminating his neat, dark room.

It wasn't like Chan to have a crush so quickly. Gosh, he didn't even know you. But the way he acted today... it could only mean one thing. Chan had the feels, indeed. And they weren't going away anytime soon.

He couldn't let the immense awkwardness of today show in tomorrow's practice session, oh no. That would be mortifying.

He needed to loosen up. He needed to just be himself and have a fresh start with you. First impressions weren't everything, and you seemed like the agreeable type, not one to judge so quickly. Chan had a chance, right?

Hope swelled up in his heart. Tomorrow is another day. Let's make it count.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8"

You watched the group work through their routine. It was coming along nicely. They were such quick learners, being quite deep into the game. It was amazing to see their progress since yesterday's session. You watched on with pride.

Each member had learned their individual parts and came together as a group, like pieces of a puzzle, to fit one whole routine that would be sure to make fans fall for them all over again.

The song conclude and they all held their ending poses. There were a few tweaks to be made here and there, but otherwise, you had very little complaints. They truly were amazing.

"Well done everyone," you applauded them and they all did the same, breathing heavily and smiling at one another. "Very clean work, guys. Very good."

Jisung slipped to the floor and Hyunjin followed, spreading himself out like a starfish as they panted. They still started a conversation and ended up chatting away like they usually would.

"There's just a couple of little things. Uh, Jeongin" you gestured for the youngest member to come over near you. "Your dancing is super clean and all your moves are on point. Right before the last chorus ends I want you to make sure you keep your footwork as tight as possible, like this," you demonstrated and he followed on, mimicking your feet. "That's it, perfect. If you remember to do that then the whole routine comes together."

Jeongin nodded along to your feedback and smiled lightly, thanking you for your help.

"And Chan," you tip-toed your way over to the leader, who had just caught his breath, "this is just me nit-picking but-"

You made his way over to him as he watched you with interest. You circled around him and caught his hand in yours.

"When you spin around at the start, extend your arm more and roll out your hand. Feel the music run through your arm up all the way into your hands, like a wave."

He nodded as he watched you extend his arm with your hands.

"Maybe give it a try now?"

And so he did, going through the steps before the big spin. And when he spun, his arm extended bluntly and in a rough manner, and as you saw this, a hand came flying your way and collided with your face.

"Oh shit!"

The other members who weren't paying attention at the time turned around to see what had happened. Felix and Minho glided over to you in concern.

You held the side of your head and held back the tears that gathered at the bottom of your eyes.

"I'm okay it's absolutely fine don't worry," you said loudly to Chan trying to reassure him so wouldn't have a meltdown. But he was panicking.

"Are you okay?" Felix placed a hand on your lower back and tried to comfort you the best he could whilst Minho went to get a staff member.

Soon you were sent to a separate room. You were given an ice pack to put in your face, which seemed to numb the pain a bit. The other members left you alone as they didn't want to disturb your peace and wanted you to rest.

Chan was freaking out in the practice room.

"Well, I didn't think you were going hit them, not gonna lie" Minho joked to Chan who had a guilt-stricken look on his face.

"I'm going to hell" Chan rubbed his temples "I fucking hit them in the face. Of course, I did. That's what any normal human being would do."

He paced backwards and forwards and breathed heavily. The other members began to be affected by this.

"Wait... so you meant to hit them in the face?"

Jisung asked, clearly confused. He was only half aware of what was going on at the time.

"Of course I didn't I was being sarcastic!" Chan exclaimed before going back to pacing.

"Chan, this is a perfect situation for you" Minho commented, settling down on the floor, cross-legged, a satisfied smile on his face as an idea formed in his head.

Chan stopped walking up and down and looked at his friend like he was an alien.

"How on earth is this a 'perfect' situation?"

"Well, if I have to spell it out for you..." Minho trailed off teasingly before getting back to the point, "you can use this as a good opportunity to have a good laugh. Make a joke out of it. Be your charming self and woo them over."

"'Woo them over'" Hyunjin snorted at Minho's phrasing, finding it hilarious.

"Do you wanna be punched in the face too?" Minho turned to Hyunjin who immediately shut up.

Chan couldn't believe he was actually considering Minho's crazy idea. I mean, really, what had he got to lose now?

You heard a gentle knock at the door, already sensing the presence of guilt from the other side.

"Come in~" you chimed in a sing-song voice.

The door revealed, as expected, Bangchan. He had a stiff, awkward smile that lay on his features as he settled down in a seat next to you, closing the door behind him as you did so.

"I... didn't realise you'd fall for me that quickly."

You erupted in a fit of laughter at his cheesy pick-up line, taken aback by his joke. Suddenly, all of his nerves seemed to disappear all at once. Your laughter was music to his eyes, quite literally.

"That was smooth" you commented with a grin, eyes sparkling as you stared over at him. You loved the way his shoulders lowered a bit more, becoming more relaxed as he sensed your cheery mood.

"How are you?" He winced slightly as he asked the question, hoping you weren't in too much pain.

"I'm fine, Chan, really" you reassured him.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N" he bit his lip nervously. You didn't want to mood to lower any more than it needed to be.

"Don't be sorry, it wasn't even entirely your fault" you shrugged. "I stood way too close to you when you were trying to do the move. It was more my fault than anything."

Chan shook his head, wanting to take responsibility. But you were right. You were standing really close to him. And by the time he realised that, he then came to realise how close you were to each other now, here, in a small room with no one else around.

He cleared his throat and grinned slightly, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"Well, that's very sweet of you to say," Chan's eyes glittered as he dove right back into yours. You lowered the ice pack you had held up to your head all this time, staring intensely into his eyes. You felt dizzy, and you didn't know whether it was the ache in your head or the ache in your heart this man made you feel.

The was a moment of silence, but it wasn't awkwardness. Rather, the room was filled with thick tension as you both remained eye contact, leaning closer and closer and closer.

Until your lips collided, rougher than Chan would've liked for someone he had just accidentally hit. But hey, if you liked it rough, he was going for it. Your lips moved in perfect synchronisation with his, finding a rhythm almost immediately as you began to explore each other's mouths.

It was like choreography, this kiss; a dance of passion and tension and everything in between, improvised and executed in the most perfect way possible.

Chan slipped a hand on your thigh as you reached for his hair, weaving your fingers through his hair as you groaned into the kiss slightly.

That's when you both pulled away slowly, looking intensely into each other's eyes. A smile played on both of your lips, mischief and passion sparkling through your veins as you both caught your breath.

First impressions were overrated. Second impressions, too. As it turns out, it was the third impression that counted the most.

Chan seemed to find that out in the best way possible.

tags: @hanstan127, @iamgodandthisismyreality, @cutiepiebangchan, @hakunamatatayah, @strawberrysandwitch

[pinksugarscrub]

Heartstrings

Hobie Brown x Black Cat! fem! reader

Recap: Before, you hated the constant lessons. English, math, science. All centered around culture and the history of man. It was unbearable until…it wasn’t. Until you saw him. His voice cracking as he sang and his fingers missing every other chord on his borrowed guitar.  That’s when you finally understood what she meant.  Art, is freedom.

Part(s) 1, 2, ???

Word count: 1k+ (figured I should give y'all a warning)

London’s Black Cat was infamous. The name was etched into billboards, posters, buildings—you name it. But they never really piqued Hobie’s interest. Sure, they defiled government property like any good rebel would but their pieces weren’t really his style.

Usually softer and centered around nature. It wasn’t until he overheard a conversation between locals (more specifically the florist who lived on Eton Avenue) that he re-evaluated his thought process. Apparently, flowers had a language. A secret code.

Irises were a symbol of hope but Begonias? Begonias a warning and aloe vera a sign of grief. Who knew plants could be so...intense. Right?

The artist was trying to be subtle. Hobie could respect that. Not everyone had the privilege of being bitten by a radioactive spider.

The more messages he decoded--- courtesy of the little blue book titled 'botany' webbed to his side---the more he wanted to find them. The Black Cat. He was going to go crazy if he didn't! But whether he asked as Hobie Brown or Spiderman, no one knew who you were. What you looked like. Your real name.

No one ever witnessed their escapades. The only evidence she or he ever left behind (aside from colorful depictions of life) was money. In the form of actual physical cash or banned books and records. Things only the rich and powerful owned. Knew about.

It almost felt like- no, it was a wild goose chase. But it was the only solid lead he had on something else that had been pestering him for a while.

For months now, mostly during his impromptu shows. He was always finding things. Like guitar strings, picks, and on occasion, food. In the oddest places too. His guitar case, the pockets of his jackets and vests.

He had to find them. He had to know if it was them looking out for him the way he did for the rest of the city.

He just didn’t expect it to be today and for her, to be so… feisty. You truly did live up to the name.

“What do you want with me?” You repeat.

Hobie grins, biting on his cheek to hold back his almost comical giggles. “What makes you think I want to do something bad to you love? I could have if I wanted to y’know? Back turned to me and all.”

His eyes rake your form and you seem to tense even more at his words and before he’s realized it you have him falling for you. Quite literally. You’ve swiped your leg under his but before he can hit the ground you catch him by the fabric of his suit. So much for a Spider-sense, right?

Wrong.

Hobie’s elated once he’s realized one simple thing. You don’t intend to hurt him. After such a public display of strength he has no doubt you could snap him like a twig if you wanted to but, you don’t. (Well, not really considering he can lift a car without breaking so much as a sweat but that’s beside the point-)

“How long have you been watching me?” You hiss.

“You gonna keep asking questions darling? Because if you haven’t noticed-” Hobie motions to your arm with his chin,“-You can’t keep this up for much longer.”

And he’s right. Your arm is shaking because damn if this isn’t the heaviest man you’ve held over the edge of a building. What makes matters worse is that he seems to be enjoying this and you’re not sure how much more social interaction you can take.

You should really carry a gun around or something. Unloaded of course. You’re not an animal.

Without a second thought, you tug him forward and he stumbles but you think it’s mostly for your benefit so your ego isn’t crushed. He is six-foot tall boy? No... his voice is too deep for that.

You sigh, stalking over to your bag and with a quick swipe of your hand it’s over your shoulder. “If you’re just going to waste my time I’m leaving.” With a mock bow of your head, arm outstretched. You begin to turn back. Already grumbling under your breath when an irritating voice interrupts.

“Forgetting something love?”

It takes everything within you not to just jump off the building. Slowly, you look over your shoulder and you pale under your hood.

Hobie meanwhile is entertained by how pissed off he seems to make you every five seconds. He shakes the blue envelope in his hand. Bringing it to his ear, or where it should be. You can't tell with the mask. “So where do you get all em’ riches hm?”

“You must be pretty smart to be robbing coppers.” He laughs as you lunge for the cash. Easily holding it over your head. “Or maybe even the president.” Enunciating the ‘t’ so his lips made a popping sound.

“Give it back!” You cry. Jumping to reach his elbow and tug it down. “Dumb Spider- how does anyone put up with you!"

“Quite well I’d say.”

He is unfazed by this constant movement while you’re left panting. Your breath hitting below his neck as you’re too short to reach his face. Then it happens.

You don’t know whether to toss the poor sod off or melt because he’s holding you so gently you feel like a feather. It occurs to you it’s been a long time since you’ve hugged someone and when was the last time someone looked so deeply into your eyes?

Hobie’s voice is a low whisper when he repeats his earlier phrase ‘cat got your tongue’. His fingers brush against the line of your jaw and you feel your heart lurch in your chest.

Your goggles are tinted but he can make out the faint outline of your eyes. He starts to wonder if you would be terribly upset with him if he just...slipped them off.

“Oi!”

You snap out of your daze and direct your attention downward to see the familiar shade of blue of an officer. A "keeper of the peace".

“Well shi-”

You don’t give either of the two in your company time to think as you strategically drop a can of paint which then explodes into a collision of colors.

Hobie lets out a few choice words as pink paint splatters on his vest.

-

When Hobie gets home, or to the place he currently calls home, he’s exhausted. Cursing under his breath as he shrugs off his ruined denim vest. The pins clacking against his makeshift table.

“Bloody cat,” he huffs. Striping his mask off like it's toxic and tossing it on top of his growing pile. His lips so wide in a grin his neighbors would think him insane.

He whistles as he passes by the kitchen (if you can even call it that). Fliers for his next gig strewn about the counter. “Ay Reggie, where are you boy?”

A tiny patter of feet is the only indication said beast heard him. As Hobie waits for him to appear he begins sifting through the mess of papers to try and find that coupon for Joe’s pizza. He doesn't support capitalism but Joe doesn't charge him a cent so is it truly fueling the unjust financial system of Oscorp? The coupon is just for the sake of appearances. No one else knows of his contributions to the rebellion.

He feels a nudge to his leg and when he turns he’s greeted with Reginald aka Reggie. “There you are! Where you been hiding hm?” He chuckles as he scratches behind the beagle’s ear.

Reggie slowly blinks before sauntering off. The studded collar around his neck jingling in addition to the silver tag at the center.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He shrugs to no one in particular before following behind the old dog. Pushing off the counter with a curious look. He stops short as Reggie abruptly turns back. Arching his brow at him before he catches sight of the envelope in his mouth. A blue envelope.

“Well I’ll be damned…” Bending down he takes the envelope from Reggie with his jaw dropped. Sifting through the thick wad of cash with his thumb. Exhaling through his nose before looking back down at Reggie. "This is enough to buy us that boat cross' town."

His shock turns into glee as his mind catches up with him. "She knows me," he laughs. "She knows Hobie Brown."

He jumps up excitedly as he throws the cash onto the counter. Lifting Reggie up as he eyes the fliers with a newfound vigor. The set date practically popping out of the pages. "Silly girl doesn't know what she's gotten herself into. I'm going to find her again and when I do-"

Reggie yawns as he watches Hobie cackle like a madman.

[theelectronicstranger]

Ultimate Spider-Man #4 Discussion

          If you have not read this issue, then PLEASE look away. I am talking and spoiling a lot of this issue, so if you have not read it and you want to read it, then read it first. I think this issue is very much worth your time and money.

This is the exact issue I wanted when we started this series! I just love the fact that we get to delve more into these characters and what they’re about. This issue not only progresses the story of Peter figuring out how to be Spider-Man/how to be a superhero, but it also expands more on their characters. Specifically, MJ. I have been talking about how Mary Jane has taken the back seat in the last 2 issues. We got to see a lot of her in the first issue, but we haven’t really seen much of her until now. Ever since this title started, I have been wanting to know what she was about. This issue gave us what she did for work; showed us her dynamic with Peter; and showed us how she handles/carries herself in general.

          This issue gave us a lot of really great MJ and Peter interactions. The one I kept thinking about even though it was a small thing was MJ squeezing Peter’s hand when Peter was trying to be humble after Gwen’s compliment of him:

I know it’s a small thing but it’s just nice to see these two, MJ and Peter, interact like this in the comic because it builds up more of their relationship. It makes their relationship feel more real rather than just a fact in this universe. Another interaction I really liked was the one they had on their walk home:

Once again, it’s a small interaction between the two but it does give us a sense of how they are with one another, which I really like. Also, as a fan of these two as a couple for years, I’m really just really happy seeing them interact like a loving married couple. Also, I’m not sure if this is where Hickman is going with this, but I feel like MJ knows about Peter being Spider-Man. I feel like she’s just waiting for him to tell her. I feel like these last two pages of this issue is her kind of giving him a hint that she knows about it.

          I really like that we finally know what this MJ does. It shouldn’t be important, but I just wanted to see how different she could be from the other MJs we’ve seen before, and she is pretty different in this area as well. This Mary Jane started a PR Firm:

I like how she talks about how she eventually started her PR Firm. It makes her life feel more lived and I feel like there’s a natural progression from her being a Model to becoming the owner of her very own PR Firm. I feel like in this universe, we’re going to see a more active and outgoing MJ or at least I’m hoping that we will. She’s pretty much going to be involved in Uncle Ben and Jameson’s Paper, which will definitely be getting a lot of enemies, and she will also seem to be involved in this universe’s Gwen Stacy, who we find out is a very important businesswoman and somebody that might want to be against the Kingpin. Her being involved with these people will most likely mean that there is going to be a target on her back. I feel like everyone in Peter’s life right now, except maybe his children, are all going to be in danger or has a target on their back.

I love that we saw Gwen. I cannot believe that I didn’t think that Harry Osborn would be married to her. It was right there in front of me. It is so refreshing to see a version of Gwen Stacy that is mature and grown. I hope nothing bad happens to her but from the way she was talking with MJ it seems that she is setting herself up to be a target by some major players in this universe.  I love that she’s running Oscorp right now, which is probably why this universe’s Gwen is super intense because she has to run a whole company and a lot of people are having to look up to her.

Gwen’s Introduction:

I agreed a lot with what Gwen said in this issue about heroes existing for a reason that people might think that the existence of Spider-Man would mean that there is something wrong with it. I feel like they’re really hailing this Spider-Man as the Dawn of Superheroes in this universe. Like he’ll be the inspiration to the potential heroes of this universe to start questioning how this world works. Or at least he’ll be the reason why a lot of people might start questioning the status quo of this Universe. Although, the Ultimates title will probably touch a lot on this idea more. 

Gwen talking about the Masked Man/Spider-Man:

I also really like that Harry told Gwen everything. I felt like during this issue, Harry and Gwen have put massive targets on their backs because they’re both doing things that are going to upset the major players (Specifically, Kingpin) in this universe. Harry, as the Green Goblin, is attacking Kingpin directly. Meanwhile, Gwen is going to back The Paper, which is Uncle Ben and Jameson’s new newspaper company that will be going against Kingpin’s The Daily Bugle. I feel like these two are going to die at the end of the year. Specifically, Harry because he said the infamous line “with great power comes great responsibility” in this issue:

For the last few issues, I talked about how these two might have a Daredevil and Punisher type of relationship but now it feels like Harry is going to be Peter’s inspiration to keep going as Spider-Man. Yes, I’m saying this because he said the line, but I also feel that Hickman won’t just make him say this line for no reason.

Some Writing and Art Discussions About This Issue:

This is the first issue that Marco Checcheto isn’t doing by the way, but I think the art on this book is still so good that you won’t even notice that. Especially since Matthew Wilson is still the colorist on this issue so the look of this issue still kind of matches the last issues even though it’s not the same artist. Some people were being super nitpicky about David Messina’s art, so I kind of wanted to talk about his art a bit because it really worked for me in this issue. I really liked how he drew Gwen Stacy in this issue and how he drew Peter in this issue as well.

Also, there were a lot of people calling this issue “filler” and I couldn’t disagree more. This issue is not a filler. This issue not only progresses the story of Peter figuring out how to become Spider-Man but expands more on the characters of his supporting cast. Literally, this issue expands more on the personalities, motivations, and characters of Mary Jane, Harry, and Gwen. It’s moving the plot forward through the expansion and exploration of their character. I’m going to keep repeating myself until people get it. I feel like “filler” is one of those overused words that people just use without really thinking or knowing the meaning of it. When what they really mean is that they just do not like the issue, which is fine. In this case, most people are calling this issue filler, because it’s mostly an issue about people talking rather than Peter actively putting on the costume and actively trying to become Spider-Man. I understand why people might not like the issue because everyone is mostly talking. However, let’s not act like nothing pivotal or impactful happened in this issue; especially, since this issue: introduced us to Gwen Stacy, who we find out is now running Oscorp; connected Mary Jane more with the bigger plot of this title through her active connection to The Paper and soon with her connection to Gwen Stacy; revealed that Harry told Gwen everything, which means that she probably also knows that Peter is Spider-Man; and showcased this cast so we can get a better idea of who they are within this world. This issue pretty much intertwines a lot of the cast’s lives with one another.

Anyways, sorry for the long post and the mini rant towards the end. I’m really enjoying this book as you can probably tell. What do you think though? Do you like this issue? Do you have any theories on where this title is going? Do you think Harry and Gwen are going to die in this title? Thanks for reading once again. Have a good day!

[the-glorious-evolution-fanart]

About the narrative of Convergence comic

It’s Ekko’s comic first and foremost. It treats him well, it shows us his inner conflicts about wanting to help his parents but struggling with the feeling that he’s imposing his will on others, then he wonders if he imposes on others due to his advantages due to intellect.

There are problems in that narrative too though. He threw away his Z-drive? Okay let’s say he did want to get rid of it, even though he would know how it literally has an ability to give people a second chance to survive fatal incidents. Why would he not dismantle it? Destroy it? Wouldn’t it cross his mind that someone might find it and misuse it? And how did the other kid find it in the end? Nobody knows, and the authors surely don’t know.

The other Lost Kids are annoying. We care about them just because Ekko cares about them, not due to any quality of theirs as characters. They’re there to serve as emotional fodder. Sorry narrative writers, you gotta do better than this. (Also shouldn’t “Lost Kids” be a title for orphans? Oh well it just has a weird vibe)

Now about Viktor, what everyone has been waiting for, staring at this Viktor-centric blog:

Do you like supervillains who are bombastic, convinced of their superiority of whatever kind, very harmful to others, and physically scarred? Congrats, you win another one. New Universe lore treats Viktor as a morally bankrupt character who for some reason believes “free will” is a flaw. It is intentionally written to make him clearly a villain, and then sprinkles in “but he tried to save lives” as a way to make him sympathetic. Guys he’s a villain here, he treats people like cogs.

Yaay let’s go slavery! Mind-controlling slaves to sacrificing themselves for “greater good” is not greater good. People are called heroes if they decide to risk themselves for others by their own will.

This is written a tiny bit naively, but in principle I fully agree Viktor would be willing to collaborate with someone to help him with public relations. A Piltovian as well. Remember, Viktor approached Jayce originally to ask for a collaboration! So, I like this aspect of the comic ^__^

I’m really not a fan of cheap sci-fi vibe of pulling out brains and putting them into mechanical bodies which then go “Beep-boop! We follow orders!” Like what the fuck. Also this fusion of in-game Viktor and Arcane Viktor is giving me the heebie-geebies. No thanks

Dear Riot writers. Either you don’t understand what Viktor is supposed to be about, or you concluded it’s much more profitable with a wider reach to have him be this type of villain.

This frame though... this frame comes dangerously close to the real valuable core of Viktor’s story. To one aspect of it at least. Can you feel it? Can you sense it like I can? His expression is also good here. Him being silent is also good here. There is something about the Evolution he believes in, but doesn’t know how to explain it appropriately. Partially because the Evolution is in big part a response to his trauma. You can’t explain your coping mechanism to random others who haven’t gone through that trauma.

Wide_Viktor.jpeg

It’s a good idea to have Viktor see others misuse his work (again)

For a moment, was excited, I had hope Riot would handle well the dumb Glorious Evolved which they introduced. A religion forming around his work is something Viktor wouldn’t like at all. I don’t like how Riot wrote the zealots as even rotting while trying to replace their bodyparts... It doesn’t go that way!! They would all have been already dead!! But then Riot goes 180 and has Viktor go “yees you opened my eyes to perfection” again to make sure he stays a villain, and encourages MORE mind-controlled slavery and sacrifice.

Do you want to be used like this? If not, then Viktor is a villain here. (I say this because I’ve seen A LOT of relatively new Viktor fans who like him for some other reasons, and then fall into a trap of trying to logic their way out of this evil characterisation. Trust me guys, you don’t have to do that, because you don’t have to justify all writing of a character. Writing is often done by many people in a company, motives change, etc. etc.)

Wide_Viktor2.jpeg

This is literally a Saturday Morning Cartoon. A prosthetic leg isn’t going to be able to mind-control you. The sensitive ones work by picking up signals from nerve endings and dumping back signals onto them for very specific senses of touch/pressure. An amputee using a prosthetic is not going to be mind-controlled guys, please.

Also it’s fucking absurd how new lore treats augments as “Tee-hee, I got my arm replaced for funsies and now I have a robotic claw”, like NO that’s not how these things go!! Call me a killjoy cause I’m listening to MCR!

Let’s go Viktor, atta boy, I’ll kick your ass that’s how much you go on my nerves. And I’m supposed to be your stan?

Ignoring the anatomy, Viktor floating and the complete mismatch of tech style, does Viktor look like a guy trying to merge with other people’s minds? No. Does he look like someone who’d want to be the ruler of that one giant mass of mind-controlled humans? Arguably yes. Boring villain characterization.

Even a child can identify that this is not “perfect” functioning. Anyway, as I said, Saturday morning cartoon and I’m tired now so I’ll end it here. Every other bit of the comic is just repeating what has already been said.

Enjoy the comic for the qualities it has, and I’d say don’t take it as any reference for characterisation or references or whatever.

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Hoard [2]

Pairing: Smaug x Human OFC

Summary: Angharad means “well loved one”. Perhaps that is why she was chosen. It is cruel irony—for a dragon cannot love. It can only covet, desire, possess. He does not love her.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Despair, Angst, Manipulation, Suicidal Ideation, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers (no fluff), Character death, Shapeshifting, Loss of virginity

A/N: 👀 anyone still here? 😅 this is kind of different from my usual works, so i’m just hoping everyone enjoys it. divider by @racingairplanes​.

He’d been watching her more lately. Angharad was a woman, nineteen just a few summers past, now. She was used to the feel of men’s eyes on her body. 

  He is not a man. 

  Perhaps that was why she’d become so keenly aware of when his gaze rested upon her. His uncanny ability to sense what she was feeling made her nerves stand on end, and this time was no different. She could feel him as soon as he’d entered, his imposing heat as much a herald as the thunder of his steps. 

   Smaug didn’t often come to the bathing chamber, but here he was, his scales glinting in the low light. Angharad could see the moon, just above him, framed perfectly in the parapet windows. 

  “What troubles you?” The sincerity in the serpent’s voice didn’t fool her. 

  Dragons lie.

   He wanted to know, of course, but only insofar as a jeweler inspected his diamonds for unsightly flaws. It was darkly amusing—there would never be anyone for him to show her off to, and still he draped her in gifts and finery, silvery necklaces adorning her elegant neck and beautiful chains as thin as thread adorning her hips. 

  “What makes you think I am troubled, my lord?” Angharad’s voice didn’t tremble anymore when she addressed the dragon. He was her only companion, and she was long past feeling guilt for engaging him. He was only half right; Angharad wasn’t particularly upset by anything—in fact she’d felt disturbingly little as the days wore on—simply staring down into the bathing pool. 

  But she had been thinking. 

  She’d been wondering what it would feel like to drown, if might would hurt. Or perhaps it would simply feel like… nothing. Wondorered if the nothingness would be warm and welcoming, or coldly indifferent to her coming and going. But of one thing she could be perfectly sure—Sooner or later, she would be free. The morbid thought had lightened her, and before she could contemplate it further, her keeper had swept in. 

  Perhaps in a few years, she would revisit the thought, when things had grown truly unbearable. Besides, if she failed, he would probably consider that an even greater insult than any attempted escape. An attempt to take herself away from him so completely would be met with swift retribution. Angharad wouldn’t have been surprised if he destroyed Laketown in his rage. Smaug had developed an uncomfortable habit of making his massive head level with hers, his great snout inches from her face. He’d hunted recently, there was still a little dried gore on his face as he spoke to her. 

  “I know you, my beloved.” His eyes are hypnotic, swirls of green and gold filling her field of vision. Her breath caught. “You are mine .” She could almost feel the weight of the words against her skin as he spoke them, his lip curling. “Do not think to keep yourself from me.”

  Even her death was denied by the king under the mountain. 

  —

  Angharad was allowed to cook for herself, time she valued and craved—if only because the dragon couldn’t fit in the kitchen. It might have been comical, save for the glowing, golden eye that sometimes watched her from the hall if she took too long.

   Time had no meaning anymore and Angharad had stopped counting; the only passage of time she noted was the rising and setting of the sun. Her mind wandered as she prepared her meals, her eyes staring unseeingly at the tasks her hands completed. She would dream. 

  She’d dreamt one night of the baker’s boy, a year or two older than her, his handsome face swimming before her unconscious eyes. He spoke kindly to her, promised to save her. Her knight. 

  I wonder if he would have married me.  

  Their parents had spoken of a betrothal—but that was like another life. Another person. Angharad didn’t know that girl anymore. They’d kissed once, and his mouth was soft and yielding beneath hers. The boy her subconscious had dreamed up caressed her face. Promising again and again that he would come for her. And then, his eyes had turned gold, his voice booming around her as he smirked, his jaw elongating as he became the dragon. 

  Even in your dreams, you are mine.

  Angharad had woken with a start, sitting straight up. He’d stopped letting her sleep in one of the abandoned rooms near the treasure chamber, instead, forcing her to make a makeshift nest of her own, soft scarves, blankets and pillows, which he curled about each night, his eyes slitted and dark in slumber. Angharad had laid back down, her back to the dragon. 

  I could swear he blinked.  

  She’d settled back into her soft bedding, her thighs rubbing together. No. She couldn’t be. She wasn’t… But she was. Her thighs were embarrassingly wet. Angharad wondered if he could smell it. 

  If he would say anything.

  She’d kept her thighs tightly shut until morning, going to bathe first thing. She’d gripped the edge of the bathing pool so hard her hands had bled. No one is coming. No one will ever come. I will die here.

  “I see you have a love of books.” His deep voice broke Angharad out of her reverie, and she turned to look at him. “I have never asked if you could read Dwarfish, pet.”

  “Some.” She replied. “Why do dragons love the sun?” There was no formality between them anymore, either.

  “Because it is the source of all fire. And what is a dragon, but fire incarnate?” He spoke so poetically of his own existence, Angharad could almost forget what he really was. What does that make me?  

  They were standing on the ramparts, watching the sun sink into the lake. She could just make out the city. If she strained her imagination, she could almost see her family going about their daily activities. She glanced at the dragon, his scales gleaming like embers in the dying light. His eyesight was keener than an Eagle’s, and she wondered whether he could see them, the people. I don’t want to know. 

  “Come, beloved.” She was used to the pet name now. It was better than when he called her by her own. That, too, was precious to him, another treasure. “I wish you to read to me.”

  “Can I pick the book this time, my lord?” She asked, following him back into the belly of the mountain, where the vast hoard waited for them.  He always made sure to keep the throne room brightly lit, so that he could see every bit of the vast wealth he had acquired. 

  “If it pleases you, my pet, it pleases me.”

  When Angharad settled on her bedding, the book she’d chosen from Erebor’s extensive library clutched in her hands, Smaug regarded her with interest. 

  “And what have you chosen for us this evening, pet?”

  That was a game they played, the two of them, a play to see how long she could withhold information from him. How long until he turned those hypnotic eyes on her and made her tell him everything. There was magic in the dragon, she knew that now. It was more terrifying than the dark fire burning in his belly, the power he had. 

  “Guess.”

  “I hope it isn’t poetry again.”

  Angharad had only read him poetry once, only to discover he loved his own flowery words better than anyone else’s. 

  “No, my lord.” She shook her head, her riotous hair bouncing. He looked at her then, his eyes luminous. 

  “Tell me, then, pet.”

  Angharad’s breath caught uncomfortably in her throat. “Myths.”

He chuckled, his warm breath caressing her naked flesh like a lover’s hands. 

  “Fairy stories for human brats.” He hated humans. It was an interesting paradox, his love of owning her, and his hatred of her kind. “Regardless, I gave you permission. Proceed.”

  She read. It was a story about a knight, a princess, a kingdom in despair. The land was laid waste by a horrible beast, who took the princess for his own. Angharad only stopped when the story was done and the beast slain; and her own eyed her sleepily, his bright eyes dim. 

  “Is this your own tale, pet?” Smaug’s voice was low and smooth, like the honey she collected just outside the gate. 

  “No.”

  “You do not wish for a handsome prince, my beloved?” She could hear the mockery in his tone, and for some reason, it embarrassed her. Angharad snapped the book shut, shoving it roughly under her pillow. “Come now, my treasure. There are no secrets between us.” She wasn’t sure how, but she could feel his bright eyes on her though she couldn’t see him. Their effect was the same, drawing the answer from the depths of her heart where she had hidden it. 

  “I am a woman, am I not, my lord?” Her voice came out uncomfortably loud. “I have needs even you cannot meet.” Suddenly, the warm scales of his snout were pressed against her bare back. Angharad let out a surprised breath, biting her lip so hard she bled. 

  “What needs would those be?” Smaug’s voice was all around her, in her ears and her head and her blood, all thrumming with his words. “What have you needed —” the word sounded dirty, almost lustful when he said it—“that I could not provide?” Angharad’s throat was dry, and her speech failed her. “I would give you everything.”

  “You can’t.” She rasped, wanting nothing more than to wrench herself away from his touch, but she couldn’t. The consequences… She wanted to shout that he never gave anything— all he did was take —but she kept those words trapped in her throat—she dared not speak them. 

  “Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do.” He hissed, a claw gently scoring her back. With an ounce more pressure he could kill her, drive his spearlike talons through her back and out her ribcage. They were nearly the length of her full body, and cool, unlike the rest of him. 

  “Answer me, Angharad.”

  “I need to be touched.”

  “Ah,” Smaug’s voice was smug and taunting. “The touch of a man, is that it, my pet?” Angharad  shuddered as the sharp appendage caressed the back of her neck underneath her hair. His tongue flicked out as he spoke, caressing her back. “No Man shall ever have you.” Smaug’s fangs traced the curve of her hip before he spoke again, his voice echoing through the treasure chamber. A sob tried to work it’s way out of Angharad’s tight chest, but she forced it down, swallowing it. Though her back was to him, she could still feel his pleasure. His. Always his.

Only his. 

Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library​ for updates and new work, thank you!

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[fancyfade]

What are your thoughts on Batman: Black Mirror? I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with that story mostly because I adore its characterisation of Dick and how the story depicts legacy and history, but Synder's ableism is so apparent.

If it's alright for me to share my two cents: I enjoy that a lot of the arc (particularly the first 3 issues) revolves around the theme of "history repeating; first as tragedy, then as farce" which was typical for Bat titles of the time. The Dealer and James Jr. trying to intellectualise "might is right" despite resorting to same old greed-fuelled murder. Dick Grayson coming into his own as a not-Bruce-Wayne Batman, who's standing on the shoulders of giants and reckoning with the ghost of the Batman's (and his) past. Barbara and Jim Gordon having to deal with Jim's biggest mistakes of all in the form of James Jr resurfacing. I also loved Dick and Babs' moments and their relationship draws on this theme: they have so much history together, they loved each other, they get each other like no one else does, they've been there from almost the beginning, they've been allies, partners, friends, lovers, exes, fiancés, and now they're something pretty un-labellable if you ask me. (Thesis-antithesis-synthesis in a sense :P)

But shit. The ableism is problematic. I think it's two main things, though I might be missing something. First is Dick's nightmare vision where his worst fear is him losing his legs. And second is James Jr being written as a "psychopath" as oppose to, I dunno, the literal embodiment of toxic masculinity (fucking wasted opportunity) to be a foil to our favourite flamboyant, pun-slinging, back-flipping, hoping-inspiring boy scout Dick Grayson.

What do you think of this arc?

I’ll confess that I am the odd one out in that I just. Do not get the appeal of black mirror. Even excluding the ableism (and it is VERY ableist). Like people say it’s great Dick characterization, and it’s fine, but it’s not like it stands out especially among other comics of the time IMO.

Like, Dick and Babs’s moments in this comic are not notable for me, because she is reduced and written as lesser to make her someone Dick has to protect, she is damselled and written as less competent – hwo does James get past her security so effortlessly? Why does she not finish him off when she has the advantage after beating him up initially? Like the whole reason I like Dick and Babs’ dynamic is because they are written as equals in the initial version of their relationship, Black Mirror just made it a stereotypical ‘scared woman (b/c she is treated as scared of James, even tho she does try to break out), strong man saves her’ thing. James Jr would not be a threat to Babs in her own solo title. That means I think it fails in being respectful of the depiction of her history, so I would say that Snyder does not succeed there.

I also would disagree that we see Babs and Jim having to deal with Jim’s greatest mistake, when like I said Babs doesn’t really do much.

I do agree that they had a lot of opportunity to parallel James and Dick as toxic masculinity vs healthy masculinity, but it’s wasn’t the authorial intention at all, so I don’t give it any credit for that. The authorial intention was “Good, neurotypical dick* vs Evil, neurodivergent James”. I would honestly consider the way they diminished Babs capabilities to prop Dick up more ableism in the story as well, in addition to sexism.

I think that critique of the Might is Right mindset is done much better in many 80s/90s Batman comics, including Batman: Venom. The text was much more overt there, and less hidden behind ableism.

Anyway, so sorry :P but basically Batman: Black Mirror is one of those “everyone talks it up” but I’m just like the *insert her GIF*. It’s a pretty stereotypical batman story. In terms of Dickbats stories, I consider it one of the more mid ones. I genuinely don’t know how it is so popular :P

*ignoring headcanons or readings of earlier texts…. The way Snyder writes him is intended to be read as neurotypical

[mariaofdoranelle]

Why are you at the wake?

AO3 link

THIS ISN’T ANGSTY, this title is just a product of the Taylor Swift-fication of my life. It’s a fluffy funeral fic you just have to trust me on this.

Fun fact: While I was writing this oneshot and after all the details had already been set, my real life weirdly well-off former math teacher was arrested by the federal police for drug trafficking and money laundering. What are the odds, right? Now I wish I had worked a little more on Arobynn, but this is already too long. I hope you like it!

Word count: 5,2k

TW: NSFW, mentions of death, swear words.

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

Rowan was at the funeral of the most despicable man he had ever met when he saw his old high school friend bawling her eyes out. At first he thought it was a mirage. He hadn’t seen Aelin in four years and his brain had decided a small amount of psychosis would be the way to go. But after staring openly and receiving a polite nudge from his uncle, Rowan had decided it was probably Aedion with longer hair. Except that Aedion didn’t have boobs. And then Rowan’s face flushed. He shouldn’t be looking at his friend’s breasts, specially at a funeral. Were they friends still?

While everyone meant to leave for the wake, Rowan just realized he never even took his coat off. He shook hands, nodded, and stared at Aelin. That was it. When Aelin first saw him, at the beginning of the ceremony, her eyes were so wide it looked comical. But them she gave him a closed-lip smile and went back to mourning Arobynn Hamel.

As Rowan walked, following his uncle’s trail, he scrambled his mind trying to find a reasonable answer for the fourth time today.

Fact check number four: (1) Aelin was on his high school friend group; (2) he had a crush on her for the entirety of those four years and was very drawn to her sense of humor, which wouldn’t be important if; (3) they had bonded a lot over hating Mr. Hamel, their math teacher; (4) until Aelin left to Torre Cesme to become a doctor.

The only reason Rowan himself was there was because his uncle, the school principal, wanted the company. Maybe he should feel guilty about not feeling anything towards his very dead creepy old teacher who spent months at the hospital before dying, but he didn’t. The only thing he felt now was worry because Aelin was sobbing and fondness because her nose looked so cute when she cried, like a tiny cherry tomato.

Now that they were at the wake and there was no minister to pretend to pay attention to, Rowan went directly to his friend, crying alone in a corner.

“Long time no see,” he greeted with a small smile. But when she looked up, Aelin was beaming at him. All of a sudden, it was like her reaction to seeing him had disarranged all of Rowan’s organs at once. He felt like his insides were made of molten gold. He couldn’t believe he was used to see this on a daily basis four years ago.

“I’ve missed you.” And then she squeezed his hand, making his whole arm tingle.

“I didn’t know you were in town.”

Aelin blushed. “I’ve only told my family, but I’m moving back.” Rowan probably did a terrible job at hiding his shock, because she was quick to explain, “I’m not giving up on being a doctor, I’ll just continue everything here in Orynth.” He couldn’t muster much apart from his blinking, so she just grimaced and muttered, “I’ve been here the whole summer. I’m sorry I didn’t let you and the gang know. I’ve been busy.”

Rowan nodded. “How did you know about Mr. Hamel?”

“I got in a summer internship at Orynth General, I saw him there twice, I think.” Rowan didn’t know what to say, so she just elbowed him and asked, “How’s the Little Folk?”

That was a low blow, considering where they were at. Aelin insisted on making Little Folk jokes ever since he decided to become a forest engineer, and she knew he would always try not to smile at them and fail miserably. “Very cranky. Apparently, the new president is shit. They miss Brannon and Mala terribly,” he joked back with a straight face, but then they were both giggling in the middle of Arobynn Hamel’s wake. Their voices weren’t even loud, but it was enough to make them stick out above the quiet conversation and weeping in the room.

A few moments after they sobered up, Rowan’s uncle brought them a plate with snacks as a cover up to give him a reproaching look and stay by his side once again, now along with two other teachers, Deji Ytger and Clarisse DuVency.

When Mr. Ytger was telling them one of his stories about Arobynn Hamel, Aelin eyed the now half-eaten snack plate with watered eyes and placed a mini sausage on the palm on her hand, croaking, “Oh, Arobynn!” before starting to sob again. Oh God, did she and Mr. Hamel? No, it couldn’t be. While Rowan stared at her wide-eyed once again, Mr. Ytger had one hand covering his mouth and a shaking upper body, definitely trying not to laugh. When he couldn’t control it anymore, he started to fake coughing to at least pretend he wasn’t laughing at the wake. In the meanwhile, his uncle was fake-assisting Mr. Ytger with his sudden coughing fit, and Ms. DuVency was shooting daggers at Aelin. The only good explanation he had for that would be jealousy, but Rowan wouldn’t have it. There had to be another reason. The Aelin he knew wouldn’t. Right?

Felling a surge of protection towards his visibly shaken friend, Rowan put a hand on her shoulder, stroking it with his finger. “Come on, Fireheart. We’re leaving.” This environment was upsetting her too much. She needed fresh air. Chocolate hazelnut cake. Play with dogs. Aelin was biting her lip, probably debating an answer, when Clarisse DuVency decided to interfere.

“So soon?”

Aelin sniffed and answered, “This is too much, I need to leave.”

Clarisse rolled her eyes and turned to Rowan. “I don’t recall your name.”

“Rowan, I used to be one of his students.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Arobynn never mentioned yourself to me.” He wouldn’t mention or even remember every one of his students, but Rowan didn’t feel like pointing it out. The woman’s thoughts must be clouded with grief now. Thankfully, Aelin was quick to fix the misunderstanding.

“Don’t mind him. He’s accompanying Mr. Whitethorn.”

The older woman sighed. “I don’t care. Thanks for coming.” Aelin shook hands with Clarisse and tuck them back in her pockets, but let Rowan guide her towards the exit with a hand on her back. The middle part. Aelin was grieving, lower back touches would be borderline disrespectful. Rowan wasn’t even minding his now apparently eight-year-old minor crush on her. Aelin was upset, and Rowan’s job was to fix it. Just like he used to do back in high school.

Mr. Ytger offered to give uncle Ellys a ride home before anyone could even ask, and off they went.

Aelin had cheered up even before they got to her favorite patisserie, and Rowan was glad. She always had that lively, dazzling personality, it would be a shame losing it after this death. Arobynn fucking Hamel. He was still puzzled about it, but she didn’t need that kind of inquisition now. After buying two slices of chocolate hazelnut cake for Aelin, he took her to his house to pack a picnic bag and go to the park nearby.

“Fuck! This place is huge. I had no idea the Little Folk payed so well.” Rowan blushed. It certainly looked bigger because it was completely white and bare, but he wasn’t going to correct her.

“It was my parents’s. Uncle Ellys used to rent it for my college savings ever since they died. I just moved in.” Uncle Ellys had gifted him a fridge, and their cousins Sellene and Enda gave him a microwave. Apart from the mattress he had bought online, that was all the furniture he had. Aelin didn’t seem to mind it, though.

“Do you plan to rent these rooms to a fuckton of people?”

“Not if can help it, no.”

Aelin sighed. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re the first real grown up from our friend group.” Rowan didn’t feel like reminding her he didn’t own a couch. Or a stove. Instead, he grinned at her, teasing.

“Oh, you don’t know half of it.”

She looked radiant with a wide grin and sparkling eyes. “Tell me!”

He grinned back. “Lorcan has a ring.” Aelin’s mouth fell open, but she quickly put on her teasing smirk.

“Oh, you don’t know the other half of it.” Rowan raised his eyebrows and it was enough to make her continue, “Elide is ten weeks pregnant.”

Rowan just blinked at her, trying to think of something to say. Until he quietly beamed, “Wow.” He was surprised, but not so much. Rowan knew Elide had been Lorcan’s whole world since they were sixteen, this was just a matter of time. He was thrilled for his friends, but Rowan couldn’t help feeling a little bit of jealousy. Rowan was living on a four-bedroom house with no prying cousins, no chaotic dinners, no loud dogs. After spending years wishing he could have a quiet home to himself, he kind of missed all that mess. Every night, Rowan laid uncomfortably at night because he always forgot to buy himself anything capable of controlling his houses’s temperature, and when he looked at his empty room with a throat too thick and chest too heavy, at least one of his cousins were up to tell him about aunt Maeve’s current fights with the neighbors or what Sellene’s kids were up to. Rowan wasn’t prepared for a bride ready to fill his new house with children, but it would be nice to have prospects of a healthy romantic life. He even thought about asking Fenrys to come live with him for the company, but Rowan didn’t feel like staining his parent’s place with his friend’s orgies and parades of women. And men. Non-binary people too.

Aelin was watching him with rapt attention. When he gave her his attention back, her eyes had a certain glow as she muttered, “I know, right?”

Rowan swallowed and led her to the kitchen. “So, for park snacks we have cheese, fruit, a six-pack-“

Something made her cackle at him, and just the sound of her laughter warmed up Rowan’s whole body, making him wear a silly grin in return. “Buzzard, it’s pouring outside. I don’t think the park is our better option now.” He was so glad she still remembered his old nickname it took him a second to process the information. When he looked at the window, it was raining so much it was impossible to even look through it. And sounded like the roof would fall anytime soon too, but Rowan was so focused on Aelin’s laugh and sunshine-colored hair and lemon verbena scent that he didn’t notice it was pelting down outside. He sighed.

“Do you want me to drop you home or—“

“Absolutely not. I’m not giving up on our picnic date so easily,” she chimed. Wait. Did she say it was a date? Rowan’s mind was too fuzzy by her presence, he must’ve imagined it. She was crying on Arobynn Hamel’s funeral an hour ago, for Mala’s sake. Rowan needed to get a grip.

He didn’t have a basket, but Aelin helped him arrange a few plates with food. Then Rowan put a blanket in his living room and they sat against the wall. It was hard to ignore the tingling where Aelin’s shoulder bumped on his. For a moment he gave a mental heads up to teenage Rowan, he was so much better at ignoring his feelings.

“So. I guess you didn’t like Antica?”

She sighed. “I’d find it the perfect city to spend a few weeks, but I missed Terrasen. Terribly. The place and the people. When you go live on your own, there’s a lot of talk about the new things to do and places to see, but no one warns you about how lonely it can get. I made a few friends, but it didn’t ease much.” Rowan never lived abroad, but he could relate to it in his own way. He would never judge her for coming back. In fact, he was happy she had the guts to do it.

“That means you left the best medical program in the world to... the third best?” Aelin was completely obsessed with these rankings back in high school, he hoped he got it right.

She mock-groaned. “Fourth. Fenharrow got the 3rd spot last year. Can you believe it?”

He was so fucking proud of her. “Well, 4th won’t do. Your parents must be so disappointed in you.” She knew he knew Rhoe and Evalin would be elated even if she was studying at the last school in the ranking, so they just chuckled. “You’re amazing, Aelin.”

“I know,” she answered with a smirk. “What I don’t know,” she lazily continued, “Is what you do for a living.”

Rowan bit his lip. Making people fully understand what he did for a living within a few words was still a challenge to him. “I work for the police.” The tilt of her head and furrowed eyebrows wasn’t an unfamiliar response to this. “It works best if I give you an example. Last week some guy’s roof fell. But it turns out it was from illegal logging, so they called me and—“

“Fuck, you’re a tree cop!” This was exactly how Sellene explained it to her children, and he didn’t really like it, but Aelin’s mouth was ajar and her gorgeous turquoise eyes were enormous from excitement, so yes. He was a tree cop.

“That was just a common example, but yes. Kind of, actually.”

“Okay, then. Tell me what happened with illegal roof guy.” Rowan gazed at Aelin, doing a double take on her. Her body was tilted towards him, her eyes seemed to wait for him to continue. Rowan was completely conscious that he was probably the only person who found his job interesting, but he didn’t really mind it. He had planned to spare Aelin from the very exciting boring details, but she was the one asking for more, right?

And off he went on the case, Rowan telling her all about how his analysis were helping the police work on this. What surprised him was that she seemed really interested and even interrupted him to ask questions sometimes. A lot of times he felt her gaze on his mouth, but he didn’t want to read too much into it. His living room had no furniture or decorations, it wasn’t like she had much spots to look at. He’d just swallow or look at the white pillars and beams.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk this much at once. Tree anatomy is something else to you, isn’t it?” A comment like that would be enough to make Rowan self-conscious, but Aelin’s tone of voice was warm, and she had a smile so big it was reaching her eyes. But something shifted when she lifted her chin and he could do nothing but shiver when her lips parted and she licked them. Rowan felt all of the hair from the nape of his neck rise when her tentative hands landed on his cheeks, one before the other, but he couldn’t do this. It didn’t matter that he’d wanted to do this for eight years, he wouldn’t be the guy that picked a girl up at a funeral and took advantage of her grief. Teenage Rowan was pretty disgusting, but he’d agree with grown-up Rowan on this.

He gently cupped Aelin’s hands with his own, stopping her caresses. “Don’t touch me like that.”

“Oh.” Her hand dropped like they were on fire. Her face reddened like it too. “I’m sorry. Um. I didn’t mean—“

“It’s just the, you know, the funeral.” She wasn’t even looking him in the eye anymore. Rowan felt like shit. But something clicked in Aelin’s head and she snapped back to him, her eyes filled with worry.

“Fuck, I forgot about about that. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit on you while you’re grieving, that was a jerk move.”

So. Awkward. “No. I mean. I was just accompanying Uncle Ellys, but you were kind of a wreck over there. No offense. I’m worried, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Aelin bit her lip. “I see.” Her shoulders starting shaking. And then she started giggling and trying to suppress them. However, she gave that up real quick and started to crack up on him. He wanted to see it as a good sign, but he had no idea what was so funny, and Sellene had a habit of laughing a lot when she felt nervous. So Rowan just stared at Aelin, completely at loss, until she came down from the laughing fit. And then she started to compose herself again. “You see,” she said between deep breaths, “I was actually hired to attend that funeral.”

What the fuck? There was no reply, no thoughts on his head. Rowan froze both mentally and physically. If a fly entered his agape mouth at that moment, it’d probably just keep spinning there.

“God, you look cute when you’re shocked,” she beamed, “Anyway, remember I got the internship at the hospital? I’m at another wing, but I was asked to cover for someone, so I ran into him and he recognized me and told me he was dying and shit. The other time I went there, he told me he’d pay for my transportation expenses when I went to his funeral. He didn’t even invite me, just told me I’d be there.”

“So you cried at his funeral for a bus ticket?” He raised his eyebrow, but it just made her grin and prompted her further.

“That’s what I thought, but then he said Clarisse DuVency was going to pay me after, and the price he offered was enough for me to buy—“ She spent a few seconds looking at a spot on the floor with furrowed eyebrows. Aelin was never good at math. “Twenty-five slices of chocolate hazelnut cake! From Emrys’s.”

“No shit.” Emrys’s was one of the fanciest patisseries in town. Rowan was beyond shocked.

“Yes shit. And then he told me he’d double it if I cried.”

Like flipping a switch, Rowan unfroze and started laughing. A lot. What kind of person hires people to cry at their funeral? And Aelin followed him suit, both of them looking a tiny bit hysterical while sat on his white unfurnished room.

Aelin decided rest on the floor, lying on her side. “And the icing on the cake,” she wheezed, “Is that I saw two nurses crying there too.”

Rowan lay on his side as well, facing Aelin, and put a strand of her hair behind her ear. “For what it’s worth, I think you were a fantastic mourner. You earned those fifty slices of cake.”

“Thank you,” she said with closed eyes and a smile.

Rowan held her face, and his thumb wandered languidly through her cheeks and chin. But then Rowan inched closer to her and, with slightly shaky hands, gave a gentle stroke on her bottom lip. “Is this okay?”

When Aelin nodded, Rowan had a feeling he would have to go to the hospital if his heart started beating any faster. Still, he closed the space between them and kissed her. Soft at first, trying not to push his luck, but then she grabbed his chin and rolled herself on top of him, deepening the kiss. Her lips were so soft, and Rowan had never liked chocolate until he tasted it from Aelin’s mouth.

They kissed. So much. Aelin had her hands under his shirt and started to press herself against his cock until he couldn’t think anymore. So he decided to yank her hair and attack that soft spot below her ear that made her moan his name every time, and that’s when he realized he’d probably crave her lavender scent for the rest of his life. Aelin gave him a hurried kiss and stood up from the floor, extending him a hand.

“Shirt off. Now.” Rowan gave her a cocky smile and lifted his shirt. When the fabric of the shirt had allowed him to see again, Aelin’s face had gone from defiant to... Actually, he didn’t know what the fuck it was. She was blinking with her mouth opened. Did he disappoint her? He shouldn’t have skipped the gym all those days this month and—

“You didn’t look like this in high school.” It was easy to see the rise and fall of Aelin’s chest as she heavy breathed and still shamelessly stared at his abs.

“I’m not seventeen anymore, Aelin.”

“Good.” She jumped at him and the soft hands that started near his collarbones traveled down his whole torso. So did her mouth that, after kissing his, travelled south patiently, tasting his jaw, neck, chest, every inch of his six-pack. Rowan was so light-headed by then he was afraid he’d lose his mind entirely before she’d get where he wanted.

When Aelin was on her knees and undoing his buttons like the good girl she was, he gripped her chin and painstakingly said, “You don’t have to.”

However, she just finished taking his cock out of his clothes, licked her lips and grinned like fucking Hellas at what she saw. “Don’t you think your cock deserves to have its every inch licked off, Rowan?” Maintaining eye contact, she sinfully licked it from the base to the tip, swirling her tongue at the end. “I know it won’t fit in my mouth.” And she proved her fucking point, swallowing his length until he could feel it hitting somewhere, making him grip her hair harder. “Is that why you want to let me off? Because you want to fill me up all the way?” Aelin was jacking him off as she spoke, never letting him clear his hazy mind to focus on what she was saying. “Because if that’s the case, I’m sure my pussy can take it.”

Shit. He was in such deep, unending shit.

Without thinking much, Rowan yanked her off the floor and threw her over his shoulder, taking Aelin upstairs while hearing her laughs and mock complaints to put her down.

When Rowan reached his bedroom and indeed put her down, his stomach dropped as she started laughing. For Mala’s sake, he’d never bring a girl home—not any girl, Aelin Galathynius—if he’d remembered he didn’t own a bed. Unfazed, she started stripping on her way to his mattress, and he followed suit. Each one of her torturous movements sent the room on fire a little more. She was a goddess through and through, and if he didn’t kill himself for his lack of bed, he was sure Aelin herself would tease him to death later.

Aelin tried to continue what she started downstairs after laying on the mattress, but Rowan pinned her hands above her head and went directly to her breasts. He licked and sucked them while she moaned with her legs around his waist. She tightened her hold on him when he mentioned to keep trailing down, so Rowan set Aelin’s underwear aside and started to put some pressure above her clit with his thumb, flicking it in tandem with her nipple and making her arch underneath him.

Rowan was always short-circuiting when it came to Aelin, but right now his brain was surprisingly hyper-active. He was high on her smell and the way she reacted to his touches. He inserted a finger inside her, and she was so wet he decided she could take two more. Slowly, dragging this out as much as he could. It was a challenge to coordinate the tongue on her nipple with the thumb on her clit and the fingers inside her, but every touch, moan and scream from Aelin sent electric bolts through his body and made his brain high on her, wanting more.

With building intensity, Rowan’s fingers were hungrily stroking her G-spot, moving like they were calling her to him. He could feel it when her breath hitched and she gripped him like a lifeline. Aelin started making strangled noises and screaming his name, and he drew her orgasm out until he couldn’t feel her insides pulsing anymore.

She was completely limp on his mattress, but grabbed his hair and guided his mouth towards hers, lazily kissing him while she recovered.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Babe, I don’t even have a bed.” He was too aroused to feel ashamed by now.

She started chuckling on the crook of his neck. “That’s a terrible answer. I’m going to sit on your face for it.” Fuck. Yes.

“I’m yours to sit, Ma’am.”

So she kneeled on the mattress and began to positioned herself, but then she started turning and—

Bloody Hellas.

She was going to sixty-nine the hell out of him right here, right now.

That woman was going to be the death of him. In fact, as Aelin positioned herself on his face, Rowan decided that if he actually choked to death on that ass he’d die a happy man.

With a heart beating a mile a minute with anticipation, Rowan yanked Aelin’s hips with a bit more force than he should and started feasting on her before she could finish adjusting herself on him. Instead of protesting, she ground herself in his face and tipped her head back, moaning. So Rowan gave as much of a slap as he could on her ass as a reminder to do her part of the position, feeling her clench on his tongue before hearing her groan. He did a mental note to be in a more punishable position the next time she teased him with something and took too long to follow through.

When Aelin swallowed around his cock, sucking on it and applying pressure on the remaining part with her hand, Rowan felt like his whole body was ignited by her. The ecstasy she put him in sent him into a frenzy, he refused to let her wet mouth distract him from his part of the position, and judging from Aelin’s demeanor, she was thinking the same. So they gave as good as they got. Rowan would part her lips and flick his tongue over and over again on her clit, and when she’d moan, she did in on his cock, so he’d feel it reverberate on every inch of him. This felt like the most intimate game Rowan had ever played, and he was drowning in pleasure from it.

When Aelin’s knees started trembling too much, he already knew his release would come soon too. Rowan gripped Aelin’s hips tight to gave her more support, and she gripped his face with her thighs as she came, stimulating him with her hand only so she could scream his name. She got back to sucking him even before coming down completely, but Rowan was soon giving her gentle taps to warn her. But she didn’t listen, swallowing him whole as Rowan felt all the electricity tightening his body dissolve into pleasure.

Rowan didn’t move, but Aelin left her spot on his face to cuddle him on the mattress, limbs completely tangled.

“That was perfect.”

He nuzzled her hair with his nose. “You’re perfect.”

“I’ll confess something to you. If you find it creepy, I promise I’ll leave.”

“Spill.” He felt rather than saw Aelin take a deep breath, and it was all preparation she gave herself.

“Ihadacrushonyoubackinhighschool.”

“What? I didn’t hear you.”

Aelin sat on her spot, looking him in the eye. “I had a crush on you back in high school. Still do, apparently.”

No fucking way. There was absolutely no fuck—

“Rowan, please say something.” Her eyes her wide, and she had a death grip on the sheet above her chest, which was rising and falling swiftly.

Rowan smiled, tackled Aelin back on the mattress and kissed her throughly, the way she deserved to be kissed. “I had a crush on you too.”

Aelin squinted her eyes at him, but the fake-mourner with impressive acting skills was having trouble hiding her excitement. A few seconds later, she smiled at him, but still said, “I don’t believe you.”

Rowan smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Lorcan knew, you can confirm with him.”

Her jaw fell. “You’re lying! Elide knew, and she would...” Aelin trailed down and stared blankly at the wall, processing something. But then she directed herself back to him, her posture relaxed once more, and started cracking up at this mess. And Rowan easily followed suit. Now he started to remember all the times they’d abandon them and come back later to glare at Fenrys. Poor Boyo, he probably had no clue. Elide was more subtle, but Rowan always thought Lorcan just didn’t like Fen. Or maybe it was true, and those occasions were just added to the list. Anyway, he didn’t care about that now.

Rowan and Aelin were staring at each other with silly grins when she decided to use his abs as a pillow. “This is when you get me food. Shitty microwave lasagna, preferably.”

“I can also take you to dinner and buy good restaurant lasagna.”

“Nope.” She popped the *p* while shaking her head and grinned at him. “We’re eating supermarket lasagna on the floor and then having sex with our supermarket condoms. It’s about the experience. And the fact that I don’t have the appropriate clothes now.” He’d be happy to follow through her plans, but her refusal made him feel uneasy. Did she not want to go on a serious date with him? Rowan realized with a huge knot on his stomach that just because she thought he was cute four years ago didn’t mean she’d want to be with him now and—

“Buzzard, you okay?” She was sitting in front of him now, biting her lip with furrowed eyebrows.

He cleared his throat. “Aelin, is this a one-night stand to you?”

Her whole face softened. “I don’t want it to be.“

“I’m glad,” he replied while cupping her face, looking Aelin deep into her eyes and kissing her lips once again. It was impossible to get tired of those.

“Perfect. Now that that’s settled, we’re buying an air conditioner tomorrow morning. I’m not giving you an option here.” Aelin’s earnest eyes told him she meant business, so Rowan just hugged her closer, feeling her smile on the crook of his neck. He’d buy all the heaters she wanted if it meant she’d continue to sleep by his side.

Just to tease her, Rowan insisted on his previous offer. “I was hoping to take you on a proper first date before grocery shopping and buying house stuff together.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes. “You’ll still buy me food, Rowan. I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.” He laughed and they started to get dressed.

“Can I at least take you to lunch after buying the AC?” Rowan offered while they were descending the stairs.

She smiled at him. “That’s actually perfect. Is there a chance you can also buy a bed?”

Rowan laughed and brushed their lips together as he grabbed his keys. “Sure. I’ll buy us a bed.”

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[rewatch-review-react]

NATLA Episode 2 Review

This episode felt mediocre. Nothing too stand out, nothing super horrendous. It is giving me Game of Thrones vibes in the sense of plots being mixed and matched (I’ve read the books and seen the show all the way through). The word Interesting is going to be the captain of this show, cause so much of it is Interesting in the choices it makes. 

Once more the acting feels stunted, less so than in episode one, but no one is really bouncing off of each other. A lot of talking to the camera instead of each other, like they were told to make sure the camera picks up what they say, instead of having the camera move to pick up what they say if that makes sense. The Sokka and Suki interactions has been the smoothest so far, but still feels clunky. 

Feel like the bending and fighting dropped a bit this episode as well. There were some fun moments, but again, felt stunted and telegraphed choreography than smooth flow of movements and action. 

In-depth spoiler review below. 

Well now, what to talk about first… Guess I’ll start backwards this time. 

First off, No Foaming Mouth Guy. :( RIP he is missed. And no mention of Jasmine tea, even though we did get a Pai-Sho drop so I guess I’ll let it slide. 

The build up to the attack on the island didn’t feel very urgent. It’s like they didn’t know what to do with Katara, so having them continually cutting back to her doing nothing felt more confusing than anything. 

I’m also going to miss the fact we probably aren’t going to get to visit the Fire Sage’s temple. Aang meeting Kiyoshi first over Roku is very much a choice that will be interesting to see the fallout of. I get why, they are on Kiyoshi island, so meeting Kiyoshi herself makes sense, but also Whyyyyy? And Zhao also going to the island? Whyyy? And including Suki’s mother? along with more of the middle age population instead of it being just Suki’s generation and the elderly and the kids is  ??????   

I do admit it took me this long to realize that having introduced Suki does parallel Sokka in his responsibilities in taking care of his village, I know, I’m slow, I’ve seen the original more times than I can count and just now picked up on this, but I probably picked up on it now cause of the drastic changes, so plus/minus in that achievement live-action show. Anyways, moving on, It just felt wrong and off to have Kiyoshi as the First past avatar to contact Aang; Zhao did not belong on the island; and I don’t really know what Suki’s mother contributed to this episode. 

I was looking forward to the Agni Kai as well, since this episode was titled “Warrior”. I was hoping it would parallel more on the different ways a Warrior is defined. You got Sokka as a Warrior, and then Suki and the Kiyoshi Warriors as another Warrior, and then I was hoping to get into the Fire Nation definition of a Warrior by comparing and contrasting Zhao and Zuko through their Agni Kai. But alas, we only got about half of that so there’s that. 

As for the positives I did enjoy the Zuko tantrum. Teenage angst tantrum is key to Zuko’s early character. Sokka being the comic relief also landed better for me this episode. And Iroh being Iroh in both humor and subtle wisdom drops felt better. The characters are more character like so hopefully everyone settles into themselves as the show continues. 

I do have to say I appreciate the Suki Sokka interactions. They were the highlight of this episode for me. Though sad we didn’t get Kiyoshi Warrior Sokka but maybe later, potentially, hopefully, you know, since they are changing and mixing things up, it is a delusional hope. 

That’s about it for this episode. Sorry for not having more positive this time around. 

On to the next one!

NATLA Master Post | Episode 2 Reaction

[readingrobin]

Since I was caught up in the Magical Readathon this month, it gave me the opportunity to pick up my pace a bit reading-wise. Managed to get into those sweet double digits when it came to how much I read and the majority of them were great. It started off on a high note, but I think by the end I was getting into some very lukewarm reads. Nothing too terrible, since I didn't manage to DNF anything this month, but it's always disappointing to end a month with a whimper rather than a bang.

Total Books Reads: 11

Total Pages Read: 3,520

Books Read:

Murder for the Modern Girl by Kendall Kulper (3.5/5) (Review)

All the Stars and Teeth by Adalyn Grace (3/5) - A sea faring journey is just what I needed to get in the mood for a summer that feels not too far off. I will say, this book definitely lives up to its promise of adventure, due to its tense, bloody action and introduction to a world with a interesting magic system, though I did find myself constantly confused and unable to really visualize soul magic. I think the book's greatest strength is its setting, where each island holds its own kind of magic and traits. Though we didn't see every island, I'm sure the rest will be left for the sequel to explore, there was enough to sate me for this particular journey.

When it comes to our main crew, I think I have to echo some other reviews by saying Amora comes off as the least interesting. Bastian has his charm and inner turmoil that he tries to keep behind a mischievous facade, Ferrick, his foil, a bit more straight laced and focused, while also having the neat featuring of regrowing limbs, and Vataea, a mermaid with a sultry, yet scary strength. And Amora is…just there. She's the princess, our main character, the one who believes she alone can save the kingdom, which somewhat makes me feel like she views her crew as nothing more than lackeys and sidekicks who are but tools to help her get to each destination while she does the most self-sacrifical work. I know she's meant to be a stubborn royal who was most likely raised to believe so, but it still doesn't exactly put her in the best light to the reader.

The writing itself kept my attention, but the plot had the standard twists and formula one finds in most YA fantasy. Nothing wrong with a formulaic plot, but there should be some sort of window dressing or aesthetic that keeps it from fading into the background with all the rest like it. My mind was starting to expect certain plot beats, only to go "ah, there it is" when the shoe inevitably dropped.

Mage and the Endless Unknown by SJ Miller (4/5) - Not gonna lie, this graphic novel gets rough. If you're up for seeing a little mage constantly facing some sort of traumatizing event from the terrifying creatures he meets on his travels, well, this'll certainly do it for you. The artist really has a knack for drawing unnerving, rigidly detailed creatures that give off a Junji Ito vibe. The contrast of the amount of gore, violence, and disturbing visuals offset the more friendly and cartoonish looking mage, giving the idea that one of these things doesn't belong in this setting. Though upsetting at points, there is a glimmer of hope to this comic, one that offers a sense of peace and rest. The comic does have a physical release coming out, but you can read it now on the magecomic website.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger (4/5) - It's odd how I went into this book having both some expectations, mostly due my friends and everyone else lauding it extensively, and no expectations at all. This pretty much happens whenever I'm 3-5 years behind reading the latest hot titles. But Elatsoe really does live up to its clout. The world has a somewhat normalized take on the paranormal, where vampires, or "cursed" individuals, magic users, and faeries are a known part of the world, interacting with society with life pretty much going on as normal. Well, aside from the string of mysterious deaths that seem to linger around a small town in the middle of Texas. It presents a setting that is both familiar and yet holds a bit of intrigue in a sort of alternate Earth containing all the history of our world with just some extra bits.

I loved the incorporation of Lipan Apache culture in the story, giving it an identity all its own and more weight to its events. The theme of oppressors actively displacing and sacrificing the oppressed to survive and further their own needs will always be haunting, especially when tied to the history between colonizers and indigenous peoples. Little Badger gives an equal amount of lamentation for the crimes of the past and present, while also celebrating the endurance of culture and its teachings that are passed down throughout the ages. 

A big plus for making Ellie's asexuality just a casual feature of her character rather than making it an entire plot point. As an asexual person, I'm glad to have any normalizing representation that's more than an entire story where the protagonist has to repeatedly defend and validate their sexuality to other people. Here, it's just a part of her being, no big thing, and that's the way it should be. 

Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher (4/5) - I've been hearing a lot of good things about T. Kingfisher and how I would really jive with her work. Well, diving into a story with a main character that has trouble really understanding the world around her while also bringing together a group that may qualify as one of the odder found families definitely wins me over.

I think what really endears me to this book is how much I appreciate Marra as a character. I love how, despite how constantly and profoundly out of her depth she is, she is still determined to do anything to protect her family. That, while she is surrounded by people who, on the surface, are more exemplary and powerful, she is capable of working marvels. What makes her stand out among other royal heroines is that her abilities are not tied to skills she earned through her title or some kind of destiny, but a certain domesticity she finds comfort in and developed all by herself. Marra is a self made woman, wanting to make herself of use to others instead of sitting around, waiting to be used as a chess piece. I think there's something amiable in depicting a sort of power in the mundane, that, with enough determination and love, could be as strong as any weapon or magic.

The writing style makes it so immersive as a dark fairy tale. Kingfisher always nails the tone of a scene, whether it be unnerving, reflective, mysterious, or tinged with a hint of humor. There were some elements I think could have been expanded upon. I wish we got a little bit more characterization from Prince Vorling other than what we got as second hand accounts. Most of the time, he never really felt like a threat, just something far away and not really tangible, despite his lingering marks on Kania. I really wanted to see more of that Goblin Market as well. So very ripe with fantastical possibilities.

The Moth Keeper by K. O'Neill (3/5) - O'Neill, throughout all of their work, knows what it takes to make each of their worlds atmospheric, engaging, and magical. It's mainly through their artwork, which is just totally immaculate here. The night scenes, will covered in a dark, expansive sky, still have a certain glow about them, coming from Anya's lantern and the ethereal presence of the moths. The adding of animal characteristics to the characters also bring about a certain kind of charm, though I wonder if there was a purpose behind these designs beyond aesthetic. The art itself make it worth checking out, but I don't think it ultimately saves a story that seems somewhat empty.

I think, as I was reading, I never felt totally ingrained in the world. It seemed almost aloof in nature, not really explaining certain things or leaving other elements up to interpretation. I mentioned the story seeming somewhat empty, which kind of makes sense for one that has a desert setting and deals with feelings of loneliness in a community and isolating yourself. But there's not really much else that compensates for that space, not in depth worldbuilding or interesting character dynamics. The message is a reassuring one, that your responsibilities in your community shouldn't be a source of isolation, but rather a way to get closer to them. It's a simple, reflective story, which is fine, but I think I was expecting more out of the premise.

The Cloud Roads by Martha Wells (3/5) - Wells certainly has a penchant for emotionally aloof and antisocially prone main characters, but I'm all for it. In a world devoid of humans and populated by a slew of humanoid creatures, the story offers a setting completely alien to the reader, which leaves a lot up to the imagination. At first, it was somewhat difficult for me to properly visualize all the differences between the species. The book already has an appendix for how to differentiate between the Raksura and the Fell, so it would have been helpful to have another that focused on the other races in the world.

I don't know if this is just me, but I thought that it was somewhat odd that, despite possibly coming from a similar ancestor, the Raksura are an all sentient, rational thinking race among all their classes, but the Fell are a mostly animalistic hivemind species aside from their rulers. It kind of made for a messy parallel and I think was to make the reader empathize more with the Raksura and showcase the Fell as entirely evil with no capability for civility. I suppose it certainly helps side with the heroes as the two constantly slaughter each other, but it makes for a pretty boring antagonist that is simply evil scary monsters just because. The story seemed like it had a few opportunities to go deeper than that, as Cloud has a history with them and Wells has shown that she is capable of more nuanced storytelling, but fell off about halfway through.

I wish there had been more time set aside for Cloud to truly learn about his people and reflect on his place in their society before they thrust him into the hierarchical issues and the disputes with the Fell. Cloud has only just found his people for the first time after losing his mother and siblings as a child, wandering alone and hiding what he is from others, and I don't think we get a lot of him reflecting on what that truly means. Also, imagine going through all that, and discovering that your main purpose in that society was basically to breed. Again, may just be a personal thing, but I know that would certainly lead to an existential dilemma for me. Personally, I'm not a fan of society structures as, "you're born as this class, so obviously you must serve that role forever" seems too dystopic for my tastes. Wells subverts this with Chime in a way, but again, doesn't really tap the full ramifications or intrigue behind it.

The Sandman Universe: Nightmare Country Vol 1. by James Tynion IV and Lisandro Estherran (5/5) - It's very rare that I find a Sandman-affiliated comic that I don't like really. I love this world and all the terrifying sorts of beings that live within it. I know Tynion more for his young adult Wynd series, but know that he's very capable at writing horror and Nightmare Country certainly proves it. This comic takes Sandman back to its horror roots, following the Corinthian as a being with teeth for eyes other than him has been stalking a woman in her waking life for some time now. This volume serves as a good setup to the story, getting all our main players in, bringing back some familiar faces and introducing some new ones. With how the story ended, I'm really interested to see where exactly it's going to go.

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson (4/5) (Review)

Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova (3/5) - I feel very lukewarm about Labyrinth Lost. It wasn't a particularly bad book, I think it's just one where I've read similar stories before and they were told in a way that was more gripping to me. I didn't really connect with the simpler writing style, or connect with any of the characters. I think the only elements that I was really interested in was the magic system and the environments of Los Lagos. I'm always a fan of the trope of the tempting feast, the one meant to lure you in with delicious food and fascinating company, only to trick you into eating dirt and keep you there forever. It's a portal fantasy staple, really. 

It may be just a me thing since I was breezing through this book so quickly, but the pacing felt a bit off at times, with the action starting and stopping so often, especially towards the end. I think what really threw me off about the group is that we don't really have a strong trio of characters between Alex, Nova, and Rishi. Usually in fantasies that usually follow a group of three characters off on a typical quest, there's some cohesion to them. They may get off to a rocky start, but eventually they really start to work well as a unit and become stronger for it. Here, the group doesn't really feel like a stable triangle, as they usually range from being incredibly snarky and antagonistic towards each other (Alex and Nova at the start, then Rishi taking over that job from Alex as the two start to get on better) or being completely devoted to each other (Nova warming up to Alex, as well as Rishi being a constant supportive force and that's it). I wish Rishi got some kind of quality that made her more of an asset to the team other than Alex's best friend and love interest. She literally just fell into the portal to Los Lagos after Alex on accident and really doesn't serve a function other than backing Alex up. It doesn't make her that memorable as a character and it's a little disappointing.

I know there's plot reasons as to why they don't really feel like a great team but the twist towards the end probably would have hit a lot harder if they were. 

Other than that, the family dynamic was a great element of the story, which makes it a bummer that we don't really see more of them. I know the sequel follows Alex's sister, which would probably focus a bit more on that aspect, but I don't think I gel enough with this writer or the overall story to continue.

The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson (2/5) - Though I may not have liked this book very much, I will say that I appreciate that it introduced me to an interesting aspect of history that I had not known before, such as the Pack Horse project and the Blue Fugates family. I'm a real big fan of pieces of history that slips through the cracks and lead the way for improvement in societies that were disadvantaged, which was one of the aims of the Pack Horse project. To know the dedication of librarians in this context, to be introduced how they would travel in dangerous conditions to bring people books and magazines that would either give them a relief for their hard lives, or help them learn new skills that would help them contribute in new ways to their families or communities was a much welcome lesson.

That's probably the only praise I can really give this book. I wasn't a fan of how this book centered on the constant sense of tragedy that lingers around Cussy May. It seems that, no matter how little good she experiences, she can't hold onto it for long or it's overshadows by the many, many horrible things that happen to her. Numerous sexual assaults, medical assault, losing so many people. At some point, it almost feels manipulative that we're constantly supposed to feel bad for Cussy, but at some point it gets to be too much to take seriously. Did I feel anger at all the injustice she faced? Sure, as any rational minded person would. But when the only thing your character experiences is constant hardship without any slack, it gets to be real repetitive and boring. And that ending was just the cherry out a cake made out of frustration and emotional exhaustion.

When it came to the author's treatment of race in the book, I'm just gonna say that it's a bit messy in certain scenarios. Framing Cussy, a person with blue skin, as someone who is somehow treated more poorly than the few black people in the community, was, I don't know, probably not a great choice. The scene with the doctor's Jamaican servant (you can tell she's Jamaican because the author makes sure to lean hard into the accent), who doesn't even let Cussy into his house or provide her a drink when he asks her to, just felt a little tone deaf. 

While I'm glad this books highlights the importance of literature within a community, as well as how wealth and information disparity leads people to become more disadvantaged, misinformed, and generally have harder ways of living, its tone and content just felt a little overbearing.

Average Rating: 3.5/5

[trixanimations]

Hey dudes, this title card is the first entry for the "Universal Mayhem" comic! For people who are new "Universal Mayhem" or UM is a crossover AU that between, Rottmnt, the Oddities RP, and Your Boyfriend Game. And before you ask, yes this is a weird combo but it'll make (some sort) of sense. (This comic is best enjoyed with a open mind.) If this AU is not your kinda thing, why the heck are you still reading this? There's literally billions of other things you could be reading right now. Go on, I'm not holding you hostage. To everyone who wants to be here I hope you enjoy. Thank you.

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(Title card without text)

[davidmariottecomics]

Why is it so Hard to Launch a Superhero Universe?

Face front, true believers! 

We're talking superhero comics! In particular, we're going to be talking a little more history this time and then, y'know, time for a bit of updates on the world and what you can maybe do to help things not totally fall apart. 

I was talking with someone this week about superhero comics and it made me think about what the new superhero universe of the 2020s is going to be. Now, I hope that the person I was talking to about it is the one who cracks it because they've got a lot of good ideas, but I wanted to do a quick rundown of just how hard it is to make a new superhero universe that lands in the market and has a real staying power. Looking at the history, I think since the 1990s, there's been one major front-runner each decade, and then some other notable accomplishments. So, let's walk through 'em and see if there's anything we can discover from that. 

2020s: ??? Maybe the Massive-Verse?  We're still pretty early in the 2020s and I don't want to make a definite call at this point, but I will say, I think the Massive-Verse, the Image comics spinning out of Radiant Black by Kyle Higgins and cohorts is a strong front-runner. And as we move backwards in time to talk about this all, I think it'll increasingly make sense why. But, to put a brief pin in this, let me say that I think Kyle's got a good pedigree in the Direct Market, a strong and largely focused concept that allows for a fair amount of different folks to work on very complimentary stories that feel of a shared creative vision, and a history of Image superhero books doing well. 

2010s: My Hero Academia

Okay, so, now with the benefit of hindsight, I think it's fair to say that the biggest new superhero universe globally in the 2010s was My Hero Academia. It was this kinda crazy crossover hit that blends a lot of tropes of shonen action/school manga with American superheroes. But what made it a success? 

First and foremost, I think a lot of what would be it's competition in a US comics-based market was in a weird place. That's not to discount MHA in any way, just to say that it was able to step into a niche that had kinda been forgotten. The most direct American superhero comics comparisons to it would probably be X-Men and Legion of Superheroes (with sort of Teen Titans/Young Justice as more strained comparsions). Both X-Men and Legion focus on a large team of heroes, often told through a couple key focal characters, who have generally unique powers from each other and the rest of the world with some minor concerns about being young and having school or the responsibilities of youth, but that was almost always backburnered for the action. Both have, at various points, had their characters wrestle with being empowered in a world where not everyone is and the various sorts of prejudices therein. And both, for a while, were largely read by a younger audience, but by the 2010s, Legion was for old fogeys (like me, a huge LSH stan) and X-Men was... were they on an island? I know they were fighting the Avengers a lot (and/or joining them as one bigger superteam). And with that shift away from being for younger readers and being more continuity heavy, and without sort of other young superhero books doing a lot to replace it (Young Avengers vol. 2, a great book, was already on it's way out when the first volume of MHA came out stateside). So, there were a lot of young people who had grown up with superhero media and with anime and manga and had an option to get both in one book that was easily accessible to new readers. 

Of course, it also has a pretty compelling story and visual style. MHA was swiftly bolstered by an anime adaptation and spin-off titles and anime-original stories in the movies. All of that added to make the world--the universe--feel bigger, but simulatenously, managed to remain ancillary. If you wanted to get deeper, know more, here are your options! Have at! But if you just want to read MHA or just want to watch the anime, you don't need the rest of it. It isn't tied too closely to the story. It builds, but not so structurally that you can't still see the shape of the room without it. As I've addressed here before, I get that some readers are really looking for that. Whether I personally think it's accurate or not (and, as covered, I think most American superhero comics are as easy to get into as a sitcom--though I acknowledge that maintaining a readership can be very difficult for all sorts of reasons tied to price and access), there are people who believe that superhero comics have a high barrier of entry and were really entranced by this not having that. And so, it blew up and Volume 35 is still in the top 10 manga charts as of last month and I can buy MHA stuff at Target. It's huge. 

Now, I also want to give some special mentions to other big initiatives of the era. The thing I'll say about all of these is up front is even if they had hit as big as MHA ultimately has, none of them are new universes. They're building on something existing. Keep that in the back of your mind too as we talk about the 2000s. 

The New 52 - DC's first big initiative of the 2010s. This was a way to reset the universe and, to what was appealing about MHA, try to build in a lot of accessibility to new readers as well as to diversify the DC line. Lots of folks have taken stock of the successes and failures of the New 52, but I will say, I personally am kinda bummed that some of the efforts to really build a universe were pretty quickly lost (though not entirely and these things have re-come-and-gone since). I would love to see superhero publishers dig deep into the non-superhero elements of their history again: War, Horror, Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Western, Romance, Humor, etc. And I'd love to see them in a way that feels of a piece with a world with superheroes, but not like superheroes applied to those genres, necessarily. Also, just noting here, one of the New 52 launch writers? Kyle Higgins on Nightwing. 

Valiant (2010s) - Valiant had a shot in the arm in the 2010s when, about a year after the New 52, they did their own relaunch. Again, I'm not here to measure the exact successes and failures of that though you can surely find plenty of folks who have done that deep dive, but I do want to note it because they did aggressively position themselves as a player. After a decade of being pretty quiet, the 2010s saw some real success critically and commercially for Valiant and things like, yeah, the Bloodshot movie, but also Faith: Taking Flight , the YA novel by Julie Murphy (author of Dumplin'). In a time and space where the Big 2 were undergoing a lot of reinvention and extension into other markets/media, Valiant made a point of also diversifying in that way too. 

Power Rangers - Boom's Power Rangers obviously also kinda blew up in the latter half of the 2010s and has inflated as a comics universe unto itself that is obviously borrowing from the source material, but also really expanding upon it. And, notably, it kicked off with Kyle Higgins at the helm. You can pretty directly track the success of Power Rangers (and Nightwing before it) and the way it took a licensed property and really built it out into a little universe to the later success of the Massive-Verse. 

2000s: Invincible

Somehow the big superhero universe of the 2000s is also big again in the 2020s, and that's Invincible. Much like MHA, it tapped into the right vein at the right time. It came hot on the heels of Marvel's Ultimate universe and The Authority and really just combined the sensibities of Image's superhero universe, Classic Marvel, and nu-Marvel. It was a book that lived on surprising upsets and a story that felt like it was maybe aiming a little younger because it was about a young hero that then went full-bore into being for ADULTS. Like the later Massive-Verse, Invincible kind of slowly expanded, sometimes retroactively adding other Robert Kirkman books, sometimes having more tangential spin-offs, but even when other creators entered the mix, it felt like part of a unified vision. 

The weird thing with Invincible, and the reason it *almost* didn't count, is that it is built off of like... a jillion other universes. Like, obviously, Invincible is in many ways a reflection of other superhero tropes. He's Superboy and Spider-Man wrapped into one and plenty of major and minor Invincible characters are pretty clearly meant to be riffs on existing characters with other publishers. But in a more literal way, Invincible is piggy-backing on and joining various other company and creator-owned superheroes. Over the course of the series, he met Spider-Man (in an issue of Marvel Team-Up), joined The Pact (with ShadowHawk, Firebreather, and Zephyr of Noble Causes), and Savage Dragon and various other Image superheroes. A lot of it did manage to be self-contained and as the series continued, it did really parse down to only Kirkman-original characters, but it was a series that got some of it's esteem from being in a pre-existing shared universe too. The Massive-Verse is, to my understanding, in a similar place where they've got like... a Spawn appearance. There is something to the even casual and official early crossovers that really helps a universe get a hold and seem more likely to both last and, I think, have an air of legitimacy. 

It's a very interesting contrast to MHA in that the universe is bolstered by a sense of larger continuity, while still being presented as something that has a lot of accessibility and both are, in my opinion, actually probably best enjoyed with an understanding of the tropes they're riffing on.  

The Ultimate Universe - As a special mention, again, Marvel's Ultimate Universe is not it's own unique universe, but as an experiment in rebooting an existing project and making new easier access to it, the Ultimate Universe's existence is a key influence to most attempts at shared superhero universes, both existing and "new", that followed. 

IDW's Transformers - While a shared universe with TF wasn't really a thing until the 2010s and the Hasbro Shared Universe, I will note that IDW's TF run had a lot of elements of superhero comics (including also meeting Spider-Man in the New Avengers crossover) and is ultimately notable as the first attempt to take an existing property and build it into a universe of it's own. Like, earlier Marvel TF, even as it became increasingly it's own thing, did have some core DNA in the Marvel universe (same for Godzilla, Micronauts, G.I. Joe, and all the others). And a lot of the other licensed comics of the time, like the early Dark Horse Buffy and Aliens or IDW's Angel were trying to either tie to the franchise's source material or exist in sort of limited, unconnected runs. Not to say there weren't others doing it at various points before, but I do think IDW's TF really became a blueprint for how to take an existing franchise and make it into a unique comics universe that you can see in things like IDW's TMNT or Boom's Power Rangers even today. 

1990s: Image

Okay, people who were not into comics in the '90s... do you know that Image started out as a third superhero publisher? Like, when you think of modern Image, which just has a couple of superhero titles, do you know that superhero comics made up the majority of early Image? Like Spawn, Savage Dragon, and a lot of the stuff coming out of Top Cow and Extreme Studios and (in my personal estimation, the best one) Wildstorm? Because superheroes are where Image started and made their first big (jeans) money. It came out of artists from the big two deciding to do their own thing with their own characters and loosely building a shared universe for their ideas. I'd personally say Wildstorm was the stand-out for superheroes in the Image Revolution--they spun-off to be their own independant thing before getting bought up by DC and while they published a variety of titles, superheroes remained core to Wildstorm's publishing. They also published consistenty. Like, no crack to Youngblood or Cyber Force or whatever, but those books released less regularly than most of the Wildstorm titles--with Youngblood's schedule being... what it was and Cyber Force, even after being pretty regular for a while, becoming less central to Top Cow's identity. 

So, of the stand-outs I've mentioned, Image technically makes up 3 of them (Massive, Invincible, Image) and the exact overlapping nature of these things with each other is a bit strange, but I think speaks to the central philosophy of what has made these universes appealing. They exist at a crucial intersection of recognizability out of the Big 2 (writers and artists who had been Big 2 guys taking the central vision, even if many subsequent members of the teams were starting in the "indie" space) with this sort of loose interconnectivity of other creator-owned superhero comics and a sense of some sort of reactive commentary on the other superhero properties of the time. While full mythos have been formed, something you can't really say about any of the superhero universes that've found success after the 1970s is that they featured a wholly unique take on superheroes, rather than digging into the tropes that had already been long established. 

The other big thing behind early Image is because the founders were a bunch of Big 2 movers-and-shakers, even in the early days, they had a fair amount of room for crossovers (and $$$ for the BIG TALENT). But if you look at Wildstorm, you can see Gen13 team up with Superman, Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, Monkeyman and O'Brien, Generation X, etc. Add in the return of a bunch of the Image heavy-hitters for Heroes Reborn over at Marvel and there's a complicated web of connections that really elevated the legitimacy of the superhero titles. 

Astro City & America's Best Comics - In a truly bizarre move, two of the other major superhero universes that came out of the '90s were... also by Wildstorm! Kinda. Astro City came out of Homage and America's Best Comics was it's own imprint, both through Wildstorm. And both have weird histories that ultimately end up kinda under DC (except for League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which ends up at Top Shelf, but that isn't really a superhero book). And like a lot of what has already been mentioned, these things thrive from an incredibly strong vision from the original writer (Kurt Busiek and Alan Moore, respectively) and, as Becca mentioned when I was talking with them a bit when I took a break in writing, like a lot of the above, part of the way that they are engaging with the existing superhero universes is a sleek design sensibility. I have felt bad talking about the importance of the writers in all these successes and not giving enough credit to the artists, so let this be a chance to correct that. Something all of these have in common is when they're succeeding, they've got top notch artistic talent--Brent Anderson, Alex Ross, Kevin O'Neill, Chris Sprouse, J.H. Williams III, Gene Ha, and all the ABC gang--who are creating art that pushes the medium forward. Like, here and in pretty much every other example, we're talking about people who are capturing a sense of classicism--the looks are often clean and iconic and noteworthy--but are doing so with a style that shows where comics are going to be going in the next decade. It's a really fine balance to strike, but a notable one. 

Milestone - While Wildstorm started as part of Image, went independent, and then was acquired by DC, Milestone was an independent publisher that had their material published through DC from the beginning, and in later years would actually be folded into the larger DC universe. Milestone fits the same model we've been talking about--a strong unified vision by the founders who created the Dakotaverse, a motivation both behind-the-scenes and on the page to respond to the current state of comics, art that felt classic and iconic while also being a vision of what future comics would look like. And, similar to Invincible in some ways, or Wildstorm, it also benefitted from a bit of loose connection to a larger established universe. It took a while for Milestone to officially cross over with DC, but the marketing and distribution relationship really helped it gain legitimacy within the market. 

Valiant - I'll also give a brief shout-out to the original Valiant line. To the point of later Valiant, there was a fair amount of competition in the late '80s/into the '90s of publishers trying to enter the market and disappearing. Like, bless 'em, but Eclipse, Pacific, Malibu, etc all came and went and while some of those stories and characters are still around in various capacities, none of them have had quite the revival of Valiant which is notable to the strength of those core concepts. 

1980s: The Non-Superhero Okay, so, no offense to anyone: Malibu or Capital or First or any of the other publishers that brought in new superheroes. But in my estimation, the big "superhero universe" of the 1980s was the '80s not really having a new superhero universe. Like, and I'll make this quick because I'm already going long--there are a ton of comics that came out that we can debate if they're superhero narratives, we can dig deep into the creators' intentions vs. their ultimate executions, but that ultimately don't feel like they're trying to build a superhero universe. TMNT is awesome and, obviously, has in latter years crossed over with a bajillion things. Usagi Yojimbo and Concrete and Mage which is part of a universe with Grendel and The Crow and whatever else you want to throw in this pot--superhero or not--feels primarily like the later association it may have with a larger world is largely accidental or in some way in spite of it's early siloing. Again, not to say this stuff wasn't ambitious or didn't crossover with it's peers or didn't have grand designs, just that in comparison to, say Marvel's New Universe, it feels much more disconnected and organic in the growth of these things. 

I'm going to make one last special mention, and that is DC Post-Crisis on Infinite Earths. And the reason I bring Post-Crisis up is that it is the prime example of (what I'd also contend is DC's ultimate strength) not making a new universe, but trying to do something about already long-legacies, heavy continuities, and various acquisitions. Like, we could chart the other superhero comics competitors pre-'80s, but so many of them before (and clearly, even some since) have been purchased or otherwise acquired by the big 2 powerhouses and folded into their worlds. And Crisis was a buckwild way of being like "okay, now Fawcett and Charleton and whatever else is also just DC forever" and making a point of it. 

So, why is it hard to make a new superhero universe that sticks? Well... it takes a lot of planning and a lot of money and a bold vision of what superhero comics could be. So, to all those trying to make their new universe, best of luck!  A Note for the Weekend

And, as usual, I've run long and this is going out later than expected. Uhh... well, the long and short of what I wanted to get to here is if you haven't already, continue not spending money for big corps for Black Friday and all weekend long. There're certain businesses that've been specifically targeted by the Palestinian National BDS Committee. You can see those here and learn more about BDS on their site and in this article. Obviously, boycotts can be complicated because there are some that're being called for by folks who don't represent the BNC that are sort of up to how you feel about them and the legitimacy of what you can do within the confines of your community. And this year in particular, there's extra weirdness around the idea of shopping because there are plenty of other reasons to boycott various businesses (solidarity with striking workers, stands against capitalism, stands against artificial and crushing inflation that has made the "Black Friday Deals" not good, literally so many reasons to not buy shit from big corporations) BUT ALSO because costs are rising all over, it's a lot harder for small businesses. Like... man, postage is out of control. It costs so much to ship stuff. I literally can't afford to ship things internationally and to all my international folks, I'm so sorry! It'd just cost a stupid amount to do and it already costs a stupid amount to ship just within the continguous 48. 

With that all said, if you're saving some money by not spending this Black Friday weekend at big business, might I suggest spending some $$$ on your friendly neighborhood artists! Today (Friday) is an itch.io Creator Day, so all proceeds actually go to the creators. Inprnt's got a sale that a ton of really cool artists are a part of. There are tons and tons and tons of artists who have shops both locally in your community and online that could really benefit from your business. So, please, if you do shop, shop responsibly. 

What I enjoyed this week: Blank Check (Podcast), Reverse 1999 (Video Game), Joe Pera Talks with You (TV show - Finished it and I miss it), Scott Pilgrim Takes Off (Anime), Three Rocks (Comic - Finished it and I miss it), Chainsaw Man (Manga), Nancy (Comic), Lego Masters (TV show), Out There Screaming: An Anthology of New Black Horror (Short story collection), the success of Comics for Gaza's Children, the protests made at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (and, yes, the TMNT float at the parade too because I'm a sucker for the parade even as I am critical of it as a celebration of capitalism and a bad holiday), all the money you're going to spend on my Small Business Saturday sale (hint hint)

New Releases this week (11/15/2023): Brynmore #5 (Editor)

Announcements: Do you have $10, want some cool comics, and also want to do good in the world? Adam Szym put together Comics for Gaza's Children on itch.io. When I posted about this less than a week ago in my previous blog, they were about 1/3rd of the way to their intial goal of $10K. Today, that goal has doubled to $20K and they're 98% of the way there! It'll easily meet $20K with your help and could even push to 25-30K before the drive is over. And in return, you get over 100 comics by people like Adam Szym, Reimena Yee, Blue Delliquanti, Emma Houxbois, Cam Marshall, Elaine M. Will, Duke NuCum, Rebecca Ann, and oh yeah, me too! Yeah! Get yourself Rivals and Jimmy Squarefoot and enjoy smut and monsters! And then when you've enjoyed them, buy physical copies from me or Becca! 

I believe this is still going too, if you have more money to give, the Cartoonist Cooperative is doing E-Sim cards for Gaza. You can donate a digital sim card so that residents can get access to the internet and have more functional phones and, in exchange, get some comics or a drawing or whatever else is available from the many participating artists.

You can also give more directly. If you don't have money, and I get it, you can call or fax or email or show up at the offices of your representatives. There are a ton of demonstrations happening this weekend and you can see if you can put your actions in on one of those! 

Thanks for reading all the way here! You deserve a reward! You can use the code "FREECOMIC" on my webshop and get a 10% discount for Small Business Saturday (11/25) through Cyber Monday (11/27) and I'll send you an extra free comic with your order! Want a bigger discount? My Patrons are getting an even better code exclusively on Patreon! Now's a great time to support so I can buy Becca these Chainsaw Manbunny figures that are on a good discount but that I still don't have $500 for. You can also get some stuff from my Kofi! Becca will be back to streaming soon, so keep an eye on their Twitch! Or if you're really ambitious, looks like some things are on discount on their Throne right now. I think Becca'll be doing something for SBS too, but can't say exactly what. And if you're a fellow hiring pro... maybe give 'em a job. Just have 'em do a comic! 

Pic of the Week: Today, our physical copy of Aradia Beat, the magical girl magazine that Becca contributed to, came in, so here's the artist with their spread! 

[substituted-shinigami]

“Quick” Blog/Writing/Art Update: May/June 2023

Hello everyone! Thank you for your patience! Sorry, it’s been awhile, but I do hope to be back soon! I’ve had a good long rest from the stresses of social media (I wish I could also say life as well, but I’ve learned it does what it wants!), and I hope to be at least semi active again by the time Bleach is back in early July! Thanks again for your patience! 🥰

Now unfortunately when I say semi-active, I really do mean semi-active. I won’t go into detail about my real life stuff, but it causes me enough stress that I’ve realized I can’t deal with it and social media stress at the same time. So I probably won’t be on here as often, and will be posting even less, but I want you all to know that I still love all y’alls stuff and will look at it when I can! I took a peek just recently to try and get back into the groove (the app has really changed in the last few months, huh?) and saw you all were talking about Soul Society Trains awhile back, and I’m so sorry I missed it because OMIGOSH DO I WANT IT TO BE CANON! Like can you imagine if Squad 12 designed one?! It would be a horror show, with a bunch of little feet and eyes and horns and UGH! Or maybe, due to how Soul Society is layed out, it’s a subway instead! Maybe it's an immortal mole creature that travels underground on some well known migratory route, and if you’re knowledgeable and crazy enough, you can just grab its fur and hold on tight to get where you need to go faster! Where was I going with this? Oh, right! You all are great, and I hope to read more of your ideas, and headcanons, and other stuff whenever I’m able!

What else…oh yes, posting content. So you know how I was talking about social media stress? Yeah, posting causes a lot of that. Creating though, causes less of that though, sometimes even decreases it. Like I literally sleep better if I write fanfiction before bed (sad, I know, but hear me out). So what’s the solution? Well, I could just never post, but I like sharing with others too! So what I’ve decided to do instead is post in seasons kind of like a tv show! I’ll work on fanfiction/fanart throughout the year, and then once October hits, I’ll post whatever I finish on a sort of schedule, like every Saturday or something. That way, I won’t feel stressed to get something out every month and I can work on multiple stories at the same time (which is my preferred way to write)! That said, since I won’t be online as much, I may be pretty slow in answering messages/questions/comments/etc, so I want to apologize in advance. Know that I still love and appreciate all of you, and will get back when I can! 

Hmmm…Any last details? Oh yes, fanart and Bloodlines. I’m gonna be honest, y’all, fanart has been slow coming. I wanted to do more fan comics, but I haven’t had a lot of inspiration or motivation lately. I unfortunately might have to save that idea for next year, but if I do, I do have a back up plan that I think you all will like, so hopefully that works out. But for now, we’ll just have to wait and see!

Bloodlines…will be out…this year…or so help me, I’ll- *cough* Anyway, work on it has been going steadily, which should make me happy, but for some reason has got me extremely nervous. Like, is it going steadily because it’s close to finishing? Or is it going steadily because I missed a major flaw? Like will I be about to post it and realize I need to REWRITE THE ENTIRE THING! These thoughts plague me. Current improvements! I’ve learned what chapter hooks are and have implemented them to make the beginnings more interesting! Also, while I think Bloodlines is still a good “series” title, it is no longer a good title for the piece. The new working title is “Learning to Breathe”. I think that better encapsulates the story I’m trying to tell! Current worries! Is the climax “climaxy” enough? Does the build up pay off in the end? Do the dramatic moments make sense? DO I NEED TO REWRITE THE ENTIRE THING??? 

Anyway, I think that is finally, actually it! If you made it to the end, that’s pretty amazing of you! One day, I’ll learn to summarize my thoughts better, but today is not that day! See you all in July when Bleach comes back! I’m so hyped!

[throwaway-yandere]

(Nutjob anon)

Everyone simping after Tighnari or Haitham, and then there's me, going feral because FELIXFELIXFELIXFELIX MY BELOVED FELIX SNFJEJJEVGRRRRRR this chapter's insults were endorsed by Felix. Not a lot of boars, but the vibe was there so it's a win for me! I would nominate him as possible next underboss... but we both know that that's a bad idea lmao.

And since you are adding 3h characters, ai have a feeling Childe and Sylvain could be good friends! ... Only for them to talk trash behind the other's back ("I swear! His personality is so fake. How come you can stand him?")

And I'll also like to raise you: Linhardt and Tighnari being friends: Green, sassy, doesn't care for titles and only his research? Yes, they'd be very good friends.

I am also getting Lysithea vibes from the capo: wanting to do a lot but little time, and everyone needs to give them a vibe check for that attitude lol I hope Barbara can smack some sense into them, because I can't help but think that capo is also operating under the "there's nothing more terrifying than a man who has nothing left to lose". Yes, they are fighting for their men, but they personally don't care about what might happen to them, so we better watch out that sanity meter, or else the capo will turn into the real hazard all along the way.

And dunno Ansy, I know you want to help us with hinting that bringing Cyno is bad, but the one that I don't trust is Haitham lmao Cyno said it himself: don't kill Tighnari. Even if what he did makes his blood boil, at least he is conscious enough to first get the cure. But Haitham is quite prideful, so maybe he'll come with some shit that he is the only one we need and he can always steal what Tighnari have done and finish it. After all, the main point is to cure you, right? Anything else is expendable. And maybe having Cyno there might help him clarify some questions he might have.

I don't like how autorithive Haitham is, with ordering us to leave (even if it was good for us). That means he has no reservations in misleading us if what we are doing doesn't go with his agenda. So with Tighnari, someone who is... somewhat on the same ground as him in terms of research, he might not think as your underboss but as an academic rival when acting.

Anyways, angst hurts me but boy that I will spin that death wheel with gusto 😎

HDIAOAOAK I TRY MY BEST TO MAKE THE FE:TH CHARACTERS SUBTLE HERE (that very much failed with dimitri cause first off I'm a simp and second it's weird if the reader doesn't grieve for at least one chapter lol) SO I CAN'T MAKE FELIX THE UNDERBOSS EVEN IF I WANT TO 😭😭 (i actually added him in cuz I thought of you lolol)

(kazuha was almost the underboss tho but Alhaitham won lol)

I think not a lot of genshin players are major FE:TH fans so I gotta be real sneaky with the characters lol... But that sylvain idea 🤔🤔🤔 considering childe's whole comical side story with lumine rn I could invite mister steal your girl for some dumb sht lol. Lindhart is a rather european name so I could have him as another one of Focalor's people ehe, though he'd probably ask for Tighnari to do his job for him cause he's too lazy–

AND YES LYSITHEA AND CAPO WOULD HAVE BEEN BESTIES 😭😭😭 THEY'D UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND THEY'D PROBABLY FEEL LESS ALONE USIAOWO THESE POOR PEOPLE– the difference between the two of them is that lysithea always feels like she's being looked down on like a kid while the capo feels like they have too many burdens to bear– making these two vent to one another would probably be therapeutic for them ;;----;;;

My two au's right now both have nothing left to lose vibes, although capo!reader has that a lot less than our unhinged hyshum!reader. The only thing holding them back is that some of their men are still alive. They do care, it's just that they don't want to overthink:

These men have families, wives, husbands, children– what would become of them if they recklessly charged for revenge? There's no need to drag these people into nonsensical slaughter. It's your problem Capo, it's YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. And it's selfish to make them die for you when they have a better reason for living.

Their conscience won't allow it.

These type of thoughts just pull them back. It's all true, of course, their reasoning is sound but it is suffocating. Hence, most of their inner turmoil are repressed.

Oh and don't get me wrong! I respect your choices for bringing Cyno along– I love the chaos. I'm just tryina warn those certain simps that "something bad is about to happen to you and you should definitely question what happens of one of them dies-"

Or you know, I may be misleading everyone because I want a bad ending.

: )

Since when was I known for writing happy endings for my fics? Ehehehehehehehehehhehehehehheheheehehehehhehehehehhe–

And oh my darling nutjob anon...

Both Cyno and Alhaitham want to take credit for your cure. That's one of the many things that made these three idiot's truce work.

Alhaitham is authoritative, no doubt about that, but he respects you a ton. He could've done something stupid like kidnap you or try to remove you from being a Capo– but he'd rather spend some (very limited) time with you as someone you won't forget this time, (N/n).

You can consider Cyno the one with the "hidden agenda" because he's loyal to the church. He considers it his personal blessing that he was the one assigned to monitor you. Cyno is a very lonely person here. He is very prone to making idealized versions of you that fits his imaginations, and fortunately for him the Cardinals acknowledge his devotion to his missionary works.

And then there's our used-to-be-Innamorati-Familia's-informant, Professor Tighnari.

"The main point is to cure you, everything else is expendable." is exactly the dangerous mindset he is on. We'll get to him soon! It's about time he sees his Capo again!