#the entire part under this where ray calls himself the ‘annoying father’ of the group is also fucken precious

[genderfreakxx]

I’m the girl of the band!

[nsheetee]

Requested: 

Yangyang x Reader + Strangers to Friends to Lovers + Fluff

Summary: In which a very unhappy Yangyang is forced to pick up his little sister from daycare everyday, and you’re her daycare teacher

yangyang loves his little sister to bits and pieces

from the moment she was born and given to yangyang to hold in his tiny 11 year old arms

her little tufts of black hair sticking up and big doll eyes looking up at her older brother

he knew: he would probably do anything for this little angel

but now, 8 years later...

8 years of crying, nagging, hair-pulling, tattle tailing, and name calling

he thought he would finally be done

he thought his parents would lay off on all the responsibilities they’ve pushed onto him for the past 8 years due to the little angel that they named “joy”

he thought that once he started college, his parents would see how busy he is and finally relax off of him

but alas, yangyang was rewarded with a car of his own for his 19th birthday only under one condition: 

pick up joy from daycare at 4pm every weekday

so, a mildly irritated yangyang with a new set of wheels and just one more responsibility on his plate set out to his first day of college in his brand new chapter of life

you had a lot less to worry about, at least compared to yangyang

all you had to do was maintain a high GPA to keep your scholarship and a lot of your money problems were solved

but you still needed extra cash for yourself

which is why you got a job at a daycare

you would be in charge of a small group of 8 year old for around an hour every afternoon 

what you did with them for the hour was almost always up to you

so on the first day, your little group of five 8 year olds came into your daycare classroom- the first thing you did was go outside

the kids LOVE you

they boasted about being able to play on the playground when no one else got to- claiming they had “the awesome-est teacher EVER”

and when they got rid of all of their pent up energy from sitting on hard plastic seats at school for several hours, you managed to get them to introduce themselves to you and to one another

soon, the first day of daycare came to a close

parents arrived and greeted you, taking their kids and all their belongings with them as you wave good bye

only one girl from your group was left: joy

she sat under a shady tree, slouching as she picked at the grass next to her legs

“hey, joy. what’s up?” you ask and sit down next to her

“sorry my brother is late.” she looks guilty as she continues to pick at the grass

“it’s okay, joy. I’ll wait with you for however long it takes.” she nods, but you could tell she’s still apologetic.

“do you wanna make a flower crown?” you ask, trying to get the situation off her mind

“I don’t know how” 

“well, I'll teach you”

joy’s furrowed eyebrows slowly melts away as you hunt for flowers and a small smile blooms on her cheeks when she finally finishes her crown, gifting it to you

it was 4:47 when yangyang pulls up to the daycare, new wheels crunching on the gravel road and he pants as he gets out of the car

“yangie!” joy shrieks, running to her brother and encircling her tiny arms around his waist

“joy! I'm so sorry I'm late.” 

“I'm not the one who needs to hear that.” joy speaks matter of factly, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard an 8 year old sound more mature

as joy walks to the car, her older brother turns to you

you slowly take off the flower crown, eyebrows raised while waiting for the boy in front of you to say something

he’s so boyish it makes your heart melt

with curly hair that falls over his eyes and a smile that you know hides a lot of jokes and pranks for the future

you can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the sight of him

“I'm so sorry about this. I swear it won’t happen again.” he looks down apologetically and it reminds you of an older, boy version of joy

maybe it’s because you think he’s cute or maybe because his little sister is really fun

but you wave a dismissive hand

“it’s alright. joy is a pleasure to be around. I didn’t mind.”

he raises his head to see the sincerity in your eyes and relaxes 

“I’m yangyang, joy’s brother.” he finally introduces himself

“I'm y/n, joy’s daycare teacher” you reach forward to shake his hand

“aren’t you too young to be a teacher?” he asks

“I can give CPR and kids don’t hate me, that was enough for them to hire me” you shrug, “I go to the college” you wave your hand in the general direction of your school

“oh,” he looks surprised, “me too. maybe I'll see you around? o-or we can study.” yangyang curses himself at his stutter and feels heat crawl up his cheeks 

why is he blushing over an invitation to study?

maybe because he’s never been this straight forward with anyone else before

“yeah, sure” you don’t look affected and it makes yangyang more nervous

“yangie!” joy shouts from his car, looking annoyed and yangyang sighs

“right, we have to go home. I’ll see you... later.”

and you do see him later

he arrives to pick up joy (on time) every weekday

he would gather up joy’s backpack and jacket while intently looking at you as you explain what joy did at daycare that day

and after your spiel, yangyang would ask you how your day went and how your classes are going

yangyang enjoyed your small daily conversations so much that he started coming 5 minutes early to pick up joy to have some extra time to speak to you

and then he started coming 10 minutes earlier 

and then 15

and then 20

and then you just decided to invite yangyang to join your class

“w-what?” he laughed nervously when you asked

he thought you were just kidding

why would you want him to join your class of 8 year olds?

“well you’re here for almost half of the time anyway. just join us tomorrow!”

yangyang wasn’t going to- he would tell you that he had other plans:

he needed to study, he had to get his car washed, he had to walk his dog

literally ANY excuse he could think of

but he knew he couldn’t lie to that sweet smile you always gave him when you see him

so that’s how yangyang ended up sitting criss-cross apple sauce in the circle of your group of kids at daycare the next day

he had that light dusting of pink on his cheeks as he tried to fit between joy and another boy in the group on the carpeted floor

but when you introduced him and all the little kids said “hi, yangyang” in unison

he felt more comfortable

having yangyang with the group of kids was fun... really fun

one day he showed the kids his mad soccer skills

another day he played the piano to lull them into nap-time

you think he might steal your position of being “the awesom-est teacher EVER”

and of course, joy had to tell her parents one night over dinner about what was happening at daycare

“yangyang is part of my daycare group now” joy said during a lull in conversation 

yangyang kicked her chair under the table and sent her a pointed glare

“yangyang, we asked you to pick up joy from daycare. not join her at daycare” his mother sighs and puts her fork down

“oh no, mom. it’s a lot of fun with yangyang and y/n” joy defends

“y/n...” yangyang’s father ponders, “you know, we should invite them over for dinner.” 

“YEAH!”

“absolutely not”

joy and yangyang glare at each other from across the dinner table at each other’s opposing answers

“kids...” their mother warns and looks back at her husband, “I think that’s a good idea. we hear so much about them, why not invite them over?”

and that’s how you end up ringing the Liu’s doorbell promptly at 6pm the next Friday night

you made a batch of cookies to share (you refuse to show up empty handed, especially since it’s yangyang’s parents that you’re meeting) and you wear your nice clothes that you usually keep stored away in the back of your closet

yangyang opens the door and he immediately becomes 1000x more nervous

that smile hits him again, the kind smile that he doesn’t see you give to anyone else but him

it makes his heartbeat speed up and his cheeks tinge with pink no matter how hard he grips the door frame

“y/n, hi”

“hi,” you both stand in your spots, not moving or speaking... just looking at each other, “can I come in or...?”

“right, right. sorry” yangyang moves awkwardly to let you slide past him through the doorway

the smell of your fabric softener is so familiar that yangyang almost calms down in this situation

he’s been stressed this entire week leading up to this dinner

not only are you about to meet his parents, you’re about to witness what his family is actually like

and yangyang is scared that even if you had a small part of you that liked him

it’ll be non-existent by the end of this dinner

but surprisingly

dinner goes better than he expected

it seemed like you fit in perfectly, a fifth chair pulled up to the table made the atmosphere more cozy and your laughter mixing in with the rest of his family’s was something yangyang didn’t know he needed

he had a moment where he had to sit back and wonder when you got to be such an important part of his life

maybe it’s because joy already likes you so much

and yangyang knows that no matter how many times joy tattle tales, nags, or cries at yangyang

he’ll always be her big brother 

and it seems just a little too perfect for you to be an element that was added into the mixture that is his crazy life

but yangyang, despite his doubts, decides he’ll take this small but perfect thing that life handed to him and run with it

so after dinner, he walks you to your car in the driveway

the sun has just set and the leftover rays cast a purple hue over the sky and over your skin, making Yangyang fall just a little deeper into his feelings

when you say good night, you really hope he stops you 

you really hope he doesn’t let you get into your car

you really hope he doesn’t let you close the door

but he does, and you think you may be receiving mixed signals from him for the past few weeks 

until he knocks on the window of your car

you roll it down, confusion apparent on your face

“yangyang, what’s wrong?”

“uh, n-nothing just... don’t move” he says

he grips the frame of the car with all his might to steady himself, physically and mentally, and leans down through the window 

he places a gentle kiss on your cheek and pulls back to see your reaction

you’re a bit surprised but you quickly bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too hard

and you signal at him to come back to you

you return a kiss on his rosy cheek, mumbling a shy goodnight before rolling up your window and driving away

he touches the small part of his cheek where your lips just were, smiling dumbly as he walks back into the house

he’ll have to thank joy for bringing you to him later

[slashingdisneypasta]

Teen!Chucky /Charles Lee Ray x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Night Time Air 

Notes:

·         Y/B/F: Your best friend

·         This was inspired by Season 5 Pretty Little Liars when Caleb and Alison are rocky and Alison tries to tell Hanna not to be with him, and she goes ahead and gets back together with him. 

·         Told you I would overuse this gif. 

·         I should be doing requestssssss

Plot: 

Chucky is the boy at your school, that is well known for all the bad things he has done. He has no respect for anyone except… maybe you… and he is unpredictable, which is exactly why your friend, your bitchy, not-really-your-friend, frenemy-that-you-only-spend-any-of-your-time-with-because-your-real-friends-like-her tries to order you not to hang out with him.

You don’t take it well.

Warnings: Language maybe? 

~~~

It takes a few seconds before I can clear my enough, and stop myself from jumping to the conclusion of what she’s trying to tell me. Demand of me. “What?”

“You shouldn’t hang out with him anymore. I mean, I know he’s pretty and everything,” With a roll of her eyeshadow heavy eyes, she tries to infer to me, that my friendship with Chucky is so skin deep. Again, I bite my tongue and stop myself from saying anything, but oh, are there things coming to mind that I wish I would say. “But he’s never been any good, since kindergarten. I’m just looking out for you, you know. You know that I love you.” Oh, sure.

My blood boils at her words, and the fake way she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows, the  touch she manages to land on my arm before I flinch away that makes me feel disgusting. She has to be aware that we are not friends, and there is no one else around so where does she get off saying this stuff to me. Demanding something, from me like she’s got any authority. “Maybe you didn’t sense my complete disbelief the first time through your hairspray; I understand chemicals can interfere with alien sensory technology. So, let me say it again. What?”

“Woho,” She laughs, but I see under the thin, unimpressive veil of counterfeit that completes her look of total bitch, that she was not expecting a snap back like that. “Wow, Y/N. No need to get salty… “

Something about the night air has made me confident tonight, for sure. Because at school, there’s no way I’d say these things to her. I’m glad I came out tonight! “I don’t know where you think you get the authority to tell me what to do, but you’re mistaken.” Nervously, I glance past her into Y/B/F’s house to see if they were looking at us, because the last thing I need is drama with the others after this, and then stonily back at Jane. “Tell the others whatever, I’ll set it straight tomorrow. I gotta go, I happen to know where Chucky’ll be tonight.”

She narrows her eyes and looks miffed, but I’m already turning around, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket and walking off down the street. God, I’m glad I said that. Its been dying to come out since I realised I didn’t like her in the first place- it might stir some trouble in our group, but its better she knows I don’t like her then to let her keep thinking she any control in my life. Besides, I’d kinda… I’d much rather go see Chucky then stay in and play forced Monopoly with her for the rest of the night, and wake up in the morning with moustache drawn on my face.

When I get to my destination, I don’t see him but I don’t get to wonder if he just hasn’t come to the playground tonight like he brags he does every night -like some edge master on the big screen,- because he calls my name and I turn around to see him walking over from another street. “What are you doing here?” He stops in front of me on the woodchips and stuffs his hands in his trench coat pockets, grinning down at me in a way that gives me the strangest feeling that he’s glad I’m here. “Thought you’d be… Ahhh, I dunno, enjoying skimpy girl sleepover activities? See, I listen to you. Unless I got the day wrong?” I wish we could move somewhere else, maybe walk around, but he’s just standing and looking at me with his grin like I’m a weeping angel.

Instead of staying there and talking about my run in with Jane, although I’m sure he’d love to hear about it -he doesn’t like her either. One of the many things we talk about when we’re together,- , I turn and head for the swing. “Skimpy girl sleepover activities? Sounds like you put some thought into that!” I tease, sitting in a swing and pushing off. There’s something very free, about playing on a playground when its dark, and no on else is around. I suddenly get why its such a popular teenage stereotype. Not too far out of my comfort zone like most adult things that I want to do or am being pushed to try, but still new.

He laughs. “Would’ve come by and visited if I knew where your girl friend lived.” Turning my head, I watch Chucky come around and get in the other swing, but not push off.

“You would’ve been disappointed. We had intensive plans to snuggle up in our skivvy’s and raincoats and watch Singin’ In The Rain. But I would’ve made room for you!” Which is true. I would. I definitely would. I’d love to ‘accidentally’ fall over and snuggle with him. Totally would. Any day. Yes.

Watching him grin to himself at my dumb joke gives me little tummy squirms, so I take a deep breath as I swing and look away. “Oh well. Glad I get you, tonight. They always seem to win your time.”

“They’re my best friends… “I say, falling backwards and feeling my hair fly after me, on either side of my face. Then turn and grin at Chucky, curiously. “You’ve never expressed any desire to hang with me more, before.”

“Well its not like I have many friends apart from you… “He trails off, but his face doesn’t reveal any sadness or forlorn desire to change that. I know, for a fact, that he doesn’t like anyone else at our school. He has nicknames for them all! And none flattering. He turns to me sharply, causing my heart to seize in my chest. Oh my god. “Custody agreements, how would I go about winning weekends with you?”

Rolling my eyes, I look away and keeping swinging, distracting myself from him. “Mm, payment’s a bit dear,” I mutter, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough to be a mutter to myself. I wanted to reply, but I don’t want him to hear the rest of that quip. Which is ‘Its you have to kiss me’.

Seems the night air isn’t just making me confidently mean, tonight…

“I bet… “He says back, not quite to me and under his breath, the same as how I said it. Then he gets up from the swing and looks around, shifty eyed. “Let’s walk around a bit.”

He looks bored, so I slow down the swing and pop off, not noticing he moved right in front of me until I’ve hopped right into him. “Nice going, pal! Smart move!” I exclaim sarcastically, and push out of his arms and away from his face, which is grinning cheekily and laughing.

“Dunno what you’re complaining for, I’m not the only one who got to second base just then! Wanna try for first?”

“You’re very funny.” I say, forcing an irritated tone through my smiling face. Its times like these, when I thank having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. “As if.”  

“Yeahh, right. Whatever, come on.” He starts walking, scooping me up on the way, walking with his arm over my shoulders… like friends. Friends. This is friendly, I remind myself quickly. These moments, when he touches me and acts like we’re a couple, are when I curse having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. We walk around the park, not leaving the gleam of the streetlights, but leaving the mulch of the playground for the grass surrounding it. After a while of conversation about school, and other kids in our class -never touching his father or mine, this night time playground acting as sanctuary, - , we hit a lull in the conversation, and I watch our feet wading through the luscious grass, due to excessive levels of rain recently. My fingers feel like icey poles. He hasn’t removed his arm from me the entire time we’ve been walking, though, so at least the rest of me is warm. “So, what happened to your sleepover anyway. Cancelled or did you blow them off?”

“Uh… I blew it off.” For you. Of course, I don’t utter the last words. Too much of a chicken shit to finish the deal, even feeling the night air on my cheeks.

“There’s my bad girl.”

“Hah,” Thank god, its too cold for my cheeks to heat up. I glance at his face, and do a double take. He’s waiting for the rest of the story! Uhhhhh… “Um, well, we… Jane said something annoying, you know.” Flashing him an awkward half-smile, I see he’s still waiting for the kicker and look away again, picking up his other hand and lacing my fingers through his, to distract me. “Here, warm my fingers up, they’re icey.” As his fingers willingly wrap around mine, I don’t have to glance to feel his look edging me on for the rest of the story. I sigh. “Well, she said something dumb about not wanting me to hang out with a certain bad boy loner type with yucky hair, and I didn’t feel like sticking around.”

“I’m gonna ignore the part about my great hair for the moment, because I’m too chuffed that you stuck up for me… “Remarkably, somehow, his voice is grinning, as he slows us immediately too a stop and moves to stand in front of me, loosening his arm around me just enough to do so, but not letting go so I’m kind of… well, I’m enveloped in him. I can smell his familiar shampoo and aftershave, and feel weirdly, wonderfully small in front of him, who is taller. Which is usually not too noticeably because he isn’t magnificently tall, but he is… 3 to 5 inches taller than me? And because we’re so close, you can tell.

Embarrassingly, I just stand there silently as he grins, and brings our linked hands up to his mouth, to tap a kiss to mine. What? What? WhAT! This is not… this cannot just be friendly, can it? I glance away from his blue-blue eyes, so I can gather my voice back. “Not a big deal.”

“Maybe not, but I like it.”

With nothing else to use my voice for, because I can’t think of anything else to say, I look back up at his, our hands still close to his mouth a grin on his lips. There, I decide to do something. I decide to make or break our friendships, to see what happens, to do something I want to try.

I decide to kiss him.

I tilt my head, and pull down our hands and close my eyes, not allowing for any second thoughts before I get up on my toes and hopefully touch his mouth with mine. I remember wondering what happens if I actually get his chin or his nose, before my lips connect with his and everything goes starry.

Because immediately like he was prepared for it, like that, he kisses back. Pulling me in comfortably with his arm and letting go of my hand so he can cup the side of my neck, his thumb resting on my jaw. I use my new freedom to bunch his coat in my fist, and bring him warmer to me. Not that it could get much warmer for me, with his mouth laying a long, soft kiss to me.

This is definitely the ideal outcome to my decision.  

“Took way too long for you to do that, sweetheart.” Is the first thing he says post-first-kiss, husky and quietly, against my lips as he looks from them to my eyes which is way too attractive a power for a teenage boy to have if you ask me, before kissing me again, this time deeper and with his tongue. All I can do is stand there and try my best to reciprocate the sheer, hot passion that somehow he’s able to convey to me without words, despite this being my first kiss, to the best of my mediocre abilities.

“I… didn’t know you were waiting for it,” I say, when he seems done for more then 2 seconds. A flash of a smile crosses his face, rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t obvious enough for you??”

“No!”

“I said that I’m glad I get you tonight!”

“That’s code for ‘Kiss me’???”

“Yes!”

“Well, I’ll remember that now!”

He sighs in exasperation while smiling, which is good because I’m grinning too. “Do you wanna just make out some more?”

“Oh, yes, we shall. Good idea.”

[animeman08]

Hulk

The Hulk is a fictional superhero appearing in publications by the American publisher Marvel Comics. Created by writer Stan Lee and artist Jack Kirby, the character first appeared in the debut issue of The Incredible Hulk (May 1962). In his comic book appearances, the character is both the Hulk, a green-skinned, hulking and muscular humanoid possessing a vast degree of physical strength, and his alter ego Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, a physically weak, socially withdrawn, and emotionally reserved physicist. The two exist as independent dissociative personalities, and resent each other.

Following his accidental exposure to gamma rays saving the life of Rick Jones during the detonation of an experimental bomb, Banner is physically transformed into the Hulk when subjected to emotional stress, at or against his will, often leading to destructive rampages and conflicts that complicate Banner's civilian life. The Hulk's level of strength is normally conveyed as proportionate to his level of anger. Commonly portrayed as a raging savage, the Hulk has been represented with other personalities based on Banner's fractured psyche, from a mindless, destructive force, to a brilliant warrior, or genius scientist in his own right. Despite both Hulk and Banner's desire for solitude, the character has a large supporting cast. This includes Banner's lover Betty Ross, his best friend Rick Jones, his cousin She-Hulk, and therapist and ally Doc Samson. In addition, the Hulk alter ego has many key supporting characters like his co-founders of the superhero team the Avengers, his queen Caiera, fellow warriors Korg and Miek, and sons Skaar and Hiro-Kala. However, his uncontrollable power has brought him into conflict with his fellow heroes and others. Despite this he tries his best to do what's right while battling villains such as Leader, Abomination, Absorbing Man and more.

Lee stated that the Hulk's creation was inspired by a combination of Frankenstein and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Although the Hulk's coloration has varied throughout the character's publication history, the most usual color is green.

One of the most iconic characters in popular culture, the character has appeared on a variety of merchandise, such as clothing and collectable items, inspired real-world structures (such as theme park attractions), and been referenced in a number of media. Banner and the Hulk have been adapted in live-action, animated, and video game incarnations. The character was first played in a live-action feature film by Eric Bana. In the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the character was portrayed by Edward Norton in the film The Incredible Hulk (2008) and by Mark Ruffalo in the films The Avengers (2012), Iron Man 3 (2013) in a cameo, Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015), Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Captain Marvel (2019) in a cameo, and Avengers: Endgame (2019). Ruffalo will reprise the role in the upcoming Disney+ series What If...? (2021) and She-Hulk (2022).

> Personality

Bruce Banner During his decades of publication, Banner has been portrayed differently, but common themes persist. Banner, a physicist, is sarcastic and seemingly very self-assured when he first appears in Incredible Hulk #1, but is also emotionally withdrawn. Banner designed the gamma bomb which caused his affliction, and the ironic twist of his self-inflicted fate has been one of the most persistent common themes. Arie Kaplan describes the character thus: "Robert Bruce Banner lives in a constant state of panic, always wary that the monster inside him will erupt, and therefore he can't form meaningful bonds with anyone." As a child, Banner's father Brian often got mad and physically abused both Banner and his mother, creating the psychological complex of fear, anger, and the fear of anger and the destruction it can cause that underlies the character. Banner has been shown to be emotionally repressed, but capable of deep love for Betty Ross, and for solving problems posed to him. Under the writing of Paul Jenkins, Banner was shown to be a capable fugitive, applying deductive reasoning and observation to figure out the events transpiring around him. On the occasions that Banner has controlled the Hulk's body, he has applied principles of physics to problems and challenges and used deductive reasoning. It was shown after his ability to turn into the Hulk was taken away by the Red Hulk that Banner has been extremely versatile as well as cunning when dealing with the many situations that followed. When he was briefly separated from the Hulk by Doom, Banner became criminally insane, driven by his desire to regain the power of the Hulk, but once the two recombined he came to accept that he was a better person with the Hulk to provide something for him to focus on controlling rather than allowing his intellect to run without restraint against the world.

Hulk The original Hulk was shown as grey and average in intelligence who roamed aimlessly and became annoyed at "puny" humans who took him for a dangerous monster. Shortly after becoming the Hulk, his transformation continued turning him green, coinciding with him beginning to display primitive speech, and by Incredible Hulk #4 radiation treatments gave Banner's mind complete control of the Hulk's body. While Banner relished his indestructibility and power, he was quick to anger and more aggressive in his Hulk form, and, while he became known as a hero alongside the Avengers, his increasing paranoia caused him to leave the group, believing he would never be trusted.

Originally, the Hulk was shown as simple minded and quick to anger. The Hulk generally divorces his identity from Banner's, decrying Banner as "puny Banner." From his earliest stories, the Hulk has been concerned with finding sanctuary and quiet and often is shown reacting emotionally to situations quickly. Grest and Weinberg call Hulk the "dark, primordial side of Banner's psyche." Even in the earliest appearances, Hulk spoke in the third person. Hulk retains a modest intelligence, thinking and talking in full sentences, and Lee even gives the Hulk expository dialogue in issue six, allowing readers to learn just what capabilities Hulk has, when the Hulk says, "But these muscles ain't just for show! All I gotta do is spring up and just keep goin'!" In the 1970s, Hulk was shown as more prone to anger and rage, and less talkative. Writers played with the nature of his transformations, briefly giving Banner control over the change, and the ability to maintain control of his Hulk form. Artistically and conceptually, the character has become progressively more muscular and powerful in the years since his debut.

Originally, Stan Lee wanted the Hulk to be grey, but, due to ink problems, Hulk's color was changed to green. This was later changed in the story to indicate that the Grey Hulk and the Savage Hulk are separate personalities or entities fighting for control in Bruce's subconscious. The Grey Hulk incarnation can do the more unscrupulous things that Banner could not bring himself to do, with many sources comparing the Grey Hulk to the moody teenager that Banner never allowed himself to be. While the Grey Hulk still had the "madder he gets, the stronger he gets" part that is similar to the Savage Hulk, it is on a much slower rate. It is said by Leader that the Grey Hulk is stronger on nights of the new moon and weaker on nights of the full moon. Originally, the night is when Bruce Banner becomes the Grey Hulk and changes back by dawn. In later comics, willpower or stress would have Banner turn into the Grey Hulk. During one storyline where he was placed under a spell to prevent him turning back into Bruce Banner and publicly presumed dead when he was teleported away from a gamma bomb explosion that destroyed an entire town, the Grey Hulk adopted a specific name as Joe Fixit, a security guard for a Las Vegas casino owner, with the Grey Hulk often being referred to as Joe after these events.

The Gravage Hulk is the result of Banner using the Gamma Projector on himself which merged his Savage Hulk and Grey Hulk personas. This form possesses the raw power of the Savage Hulk and the cunning intellect of the Grey Hulk. While he doesn't draw on anger to empower him, the Gravage Hulk persona draws on dimensional nexus energies to increase his strength.

The Dark Hulk persona is the result of Hulk being possessed by Shanzar. This form has black skin and is viciously strong.

The Guilt Hulk is a malevolent representation of Banner's abusive father, Brian Banner, that manifests itself in Banner's childhood memories.

The Devil Hulk or Immortal Hulk is the result of Hulk needing a father figure. While the character's physical appearance varies, he is always depicted as having glowing red eyes, and reptilian traits. The new form of Devil Hulk is the result of Banner and Hulk having been through different deaths and rebirths. This incarnation is articulate, smart, and cunning, and does merciless attacks on those who do harm. Unlike the other Hulk incarnations, Devil Hulk is content with waiting inside Bruce. If Bruce is injured by sunset, the Devil Hulk will emerge with his transformation being limited to night-time. Thanks to the Devil Hulk side and Banner working together, Devil Hulk can maintain his form in sunlight.

The Green Scar persona is unleashed on Sakaar and is an enraged version of Gravage Hulk. In addition, he is an expert in armed combat like the use of swords and shields. Green Scar is also a capable leader and an expert strategist.

Doc Green is a variation of the Merged Hulk persona that is the result of Extremis fixing Hulk's brain. This persona is powerful enough to destroy Tony Stark's mansion with one thunderclap.

> Powers and Abilities

Banner is considered one of the greatest scientific minds on Earth, possessing "a mind so brilliant it cannot be measured on any known intelligence test." Norman Osborn estimates that he is the fourth most-intelligent person on Earth. Banner holds expertise in biology, chemistry, engineering, medicine, physiology, and nuclear physics. Using this knowledge, he creates advanced technology dubbed "Bannertech", which is on par with technological development from Tony Stark or Doctor Doom. Some of these technologies include a force field that can protect him from the attacks of Hulk-level entities, and a teleporter.

The Hulk possesses the potential for seemingly limitless physical strength which is influenced by his emotional state, particularly his anger. This has been reflected in the repeated comment, "The madder Hulk gets, the stronger Hulk gets." The cosmically-powerful entity known as the Beyonder once analyzed the Hulk's physiology, and claimed that the Hulk's potential strength had "no finite element inside." Hulk's strength has been depicted as sometimes limited by Banner's subconscious influence; when Jean Grey psionically "shut Banner off", Hulk became strong enough to overpower and destroy the physical form of the villain Onslaught. Writer Greg Pak described the Worldbreaker Hulk shown during World War Hulk as having a level of physical power where "Hulk was stronger than any mortal—and most immortals—who ever walked the Earth", and depicted the character as powerful enough to completely destroy entire planets. His strength allows him to leap into lower Earth orbit or across continents, and he has displayed superhuman speed. Exposure to radiation has also been shown to make the Hulk stronger. It is unknown how he gains biomass during transformation but it may be linked to One-Below-All.

His durability, regeneration, and endurance also increase in proportion to his temper. Hulk is resistant to injury or damage, though the degree to which varies between interpretations, but he has withstood the equivalent of solar temperatures, nuclear explosions, and planet-shattering impacts. Despite his remarkable resiliency, continuous barrages of high-caliber gunfire can hinder his movement to some degree while he can be temporarily subdued by intense attacks with chemical weapons such as anesthetic gases, although any interruption of such dosages will allow him to quickly recover. He has been shown to have both regenerative and adaptive healing abilities, including growing tissues to allow him to breathe underwater, surviving unprotected in space for extended periods, and when injured, healing from most wounds within seconds, including, on one occasion, the complete destruction of most of his body mass. His future self, "Maestro", was even eventually able to recover from being blown to pieces. As an effect, he has an extremely prolonged lifespan.

He also possesses less commonly described powers, including abilities allowing him to "home in" to his place of origin in New Mexico; resist psychic control, or unwilling transformation; grow stronger from radiation or dark magic; punch his way between separate temporal or spatial dimensions; and to see and interact with astral forms. Some of these abilities were in later years explained as being related; his ability to home in on the New Mexico bomb site was due to his latent ability to sense astral forms and spirits, since the bomb site was also the place where the Maestro's skeleton was and Maestro's spirit was calling out to him in order to absorb his radiation.

In the first Hulk comic series, "massive" doses of gamma rays would cause the Hulk to transform back to Banner, although this ability was written out of the character by the 1970s.

[mrmichaelchadler]

Book Excerpt: The Sopranos Sessions by Matt Zoller Seitz and Alan Sepinwall

Below is an excerpt from the new book "The Sopranos Sessions," written by Matt Zoller Seitz and Alan Sepinwall. To order your copy of the book, click here. 

The pilot of The Sopranos built a world that was fresh and convincing enough to get viewers’ attention, and the next three chapters were strong enough to hold it. But it wasn’t until “College” that The Sopranos truly became The Sopranos—doing it, ironically, by separating three main characters, Tony, Meadow, and Carmela, from their carefully established community.

The audacity of the episode’s structure is itself notable: it concentrates on just two narratives, sidelining everyone else (except for Christopher, in a performance that’s literally phoned in). One plotline follows Tony as he tours universities in Maine with his daughter and spots Febby Petrulio (Tony Ray Rossi), a Mob informant whose testimony jailed several of his colleagues and might have hastened his own father’s demise. Tony’s obsession with killing the rat erupts on the heels of Meadow grilling him about whether he’s in the Mafia. His attempts to track and kill Febby with long-distance help from Chris are a source of farcical humor, with Tony taking an increasingly annoyed Meadow on a chase down a winding two-lane road, pawning her off on a group of local students in a bar, and constantly fabricating reasons for ducking into a phone booth.

The second story finds Carmela welcoming Father Phil Intintola (Paul Schulze), a celibate flirt, into her empty house on the same stormy night she learns that Dr. Melfi’s first name is Jennifer; distraught, she grumbles that Tony’s refusal to volunteer Melfi’s gender must mean he’s sleeping with her. A dangerous dance ensues. (Their chosen film is The Remains of the Day, a 1993 drama about a housekeeper and butler who are too repressed and bound by their obligations ever to be together—sound familiar?) The connections between the plotlines emerge organically via juxtaposition, without excessive prompting. Whenever “College” seems to hand themes directly to the viewer, it does so in such a plain-spoken way that they open new avenues of interpretation rather than close off existing ones. Meadow and Tony’s discussions about honesty, Carmela and Father Phil’s conversations about sin, guilt, and spirituality, and the scenes where both pairs ponder confidentiality and secrecy, refract off each other and illuminate the entire episode, and the series as a whole. “College” also gives us a clear sense of Tony’s strengths as a father—he can be a good listener when he takes off the tough-guy mask—as well as the better qualities that Meadow might’ve absorbed from Carmela: her ability to recognize others’ peace offerings (when Tony half-admits that he’s in the Mob, she admits that she did speed to get through finals) and her willingness to call bullshit on men she catches lying or evading. (“You know, there was a time when the Italian people didn’t have a lot of options,” Tony weasels. “You mean like Mario Cuomo?” Meadow counters.)

But all this is a mere sideshow to the hour’s bloody piece de resistance, Tony’s murder of the informant. It puts the Analyze This comparisons to bed forever, makes it clear that this isn’t some cute series about a henpecked Mob boss with troublemaking kids (“Wiseguys: They’re just like us!”), and announces that the evolutionary changes in TV storytelling that Hill Street Blues launched are about to be overthrown.

They attended SUNY Purchase together, and had acted together many times on stage and screen (and would continue to do so for years after The Sopranos ended, as toxic lovers on Showtime’s Nurse Jackie). There’s a shorthand and chemistry between them beyond the nearly romantic that’s enormously valuable for a story that has to push their relationship to its outer edges at a point in the series when we barely know either character.

This might seem an excessive claim to anyone who grew up on television after The Sopranos and watched countless protagonists do horrible things, sometimes defensibly, sometimes not. But back in 1999, the effect of this particular killing was seismic. Four episodes in, viewers had seen murder and violent death attributable to negligence or incompetence, but Tony didn’t commit any of the acts, nor was he directly responsible for their occurrence. Though he was way too free with his fists, Tony was a de-escalator: burning down Artie’s restaurant so Junior couldn’t have somebody whacked there, engineering Junior’s ascent to the top slot to head off a war, and so on. And although it seemed unthinkable that he’d go through the series without ordering at least one person’s death—he’d toyed with the idea—a killing like this seemed equally unthinkable, because TV protagonists didn’t get down in the muck like that. That was what henchmen and guest stars were for.

Let’s back up from the murder and examine its dramatic architecture to determine what made it so unusual. It’s not the choice of target. Febby may have left the life years earlier, but he hasn’t really reformed. Deep down he’s still a criminal, and he’ll always be a rat, and because we’ve spent lots of time with Tony and none with Febby, and accept that this is the kind of thing mobsters have to do because of their code, of course we’re going to take Tony’s side. Also significant: this is a crime of opportunity. Tony didn’t drag Meadow to Maine just to track down Febby and kill him, which would’ve been reckless and deranged versus merely impulsive. He isn’t killing some random person for disrespecting him or to cover up some other offense. This is a former gangster—and a poor excuse for one. He sold out his friends (one of whom died in prison), then entered witness protection until the FBI ejected him. Now he’s been living under an Anglicized alias, Fred Peters, and lecturing about his former life to college kids. We already know (from the pilot and “46 Long”) Tony and the others consider this sort of behavior a whackable offense. 

All of this places Febby squarely in the category of “work problems.” To frame things in terms of the Godfather films, as The Sopranos often does, Febby isn’t that anonymous sex worker in The Godfather Part II who the Corleones killed to indebt a senator; he’s more akin to Frankie Five Angels, the underboss in II who becomes a state witness and kills himself after committing perjury. The Corleones became American folk heroes despite being thieving, racketeering monsters because, with few exceptions, they only killed other mobsters and their collaborators, and only ones that were coded as worse than the Corleones.

That’s the case here as well, though we feel for Febby’s wife and daughter even if we don’t care what happens to Febby. No, Febby’s murder was startling because of the context—a father-daughter road trip, mirroring Febby’s life with the wife he’ll never sleep next to again and the daughter he won’t see grow up—and because of the joy Tony takes in doing the deed. There’s no regret or distaste on his face as he twists those cords, only glee. The most frightening thing about Tony is the way he seems to trade depression for euphoria when hurting people. James Gandolfini’s face splits into a predatory grin, practically a leer, and he throws his tall, broad frame into the action with the furious precision of a smaller, more graceful man. His arms and fists are a blur, his eyes blaze, and flecks of spittle fly out of his mouth as he curses the men he’s battering and tormenting. He’s never been scarier.

The lead-up to the strangulation reveals the scene’s primordial essence: we’re watching an apex predator stalk and kill its prey. We got a taste of this approach earlier in the episode when Tony visited Febby’s home and watched him tell his daughter good night while sitting in a hot tub with his wife. Right before Tony sneaks up behind Febby in the woods, Febby hears a noise in nearby brush and looks to see what caused it, and we get a cutaway shot of a deer gazing at him, its curious face framed by the greenery. The sequence of actions that brought us to this point represents a journey backward in time: Tony and Febby arrive by car, a twentieth-century form of transportation; Febby loses his revolver, a nineteenth-century weapon, during the struggle, and there’s a shot of the piece dropping onto the earth beneath his feet; then Tony strangles him and strangles him and keeps strangling him, an act of Shakespearean viciousness. The scene lasts much longer than you expect, until the audience feels assaulted as well. The editing cuts between tight close-ups of Febby’s face, Tony’s hands pulling the cords tight around Febby’s neck, and Tony’s face contorted in euphoric rage, his front teeth framed by his snarling mouth (like an upside-down smile) so that they evoke a carnivore’s bared fangs. Close-ups of Tony’s hands reveal that he’s choking Febby so hard that the cords are cutting his skin.38 After he drops Febby’s lifeless body, he stands up and walks past the travel agency as insects whir and birds caw. He looks up to see a flock of birds—ducks, probably—in a V formation, a shot that resonates in multiple ways, none of them reassuring.

Shots of birds in flight after a character’s death always evoke a soul departing. In this case, they also amplify the sense that we’ve just seen prehistoric savagery occur. These ducks harken back to the ones that left Tony’s swimming pool, part of a narrative that we associate with Tony and Livia’s relationship: her hold over his imagination, the genes that encoded half of the beast in him. And they stand in for the safe family and feelings of peace that seem to remain forever beyond his grasp. Carmela’s story is nearly as unsettling, partly because of how it fuses with Tony’s. Tony’s half of “College” is a scaled-down, two-character exploration of what it means to be Tony Soprano, a theoretically respectable man with a house, a wife, a kids, and a secret criminal life; Carmela’s half is about being his complicit partner. We get a sense of how repressed she is, thanks to her acceptance of the contradictory sexual values of Mob marriages (men are expected, even encouraged to take mistresses; wives are supposed to be faithful) as well as the sexual politics of Roman Catholicism. Two of the movies that are name-checked in this episode, The Remains of the Day and Casablanca, revolve around great loves that cannot be. It’s spot-on that she’d bond with Father Phil over these sorts of movies, and that she’d select a priest as the vessel into which to pour the specific desires, fears, and affinities that Tony would never entertain. There’s (almost) no danger that the frisson of attraction will become physical.

Nevertheless, her evening with Father Phil unfolds like a date from the start—she even takes a pass at her hair before letting him in. Their interactions show that they genuinely like each other, and that each is getting something out of the relationship. Carmela gives the priest-plus an outlet for his intellectual curiosity beyond matters of scripture, plus imaginative fuel for fantasies of a life where he could have a normal relationship with a woman (thus their discussion of Jesus coming down off the cross in Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ). Father Phil gives Carmela a sympathetic ear, appreciation for her food and her personality, and a means to discuss religion, philosophy, and movies as art. The script is clear on what’s at stake for them: it’s never a good idea to court a gangster’s wife, or for a gangster’s wife to step out. But the fact that Father Phil is married to the church adds another layer of taboo. When he rushes to the bathroom to retch after moving in for a kiss, it’s not just the alcohol causing his body to rebel.(The moment connects with the Last Temptation discussion, as well as with Tony’s line while killing Febby: “You took an oath and you broke it!”)

It seems fitting that “College” puts Carmela’s confession to Father Phil and her subsequent taking of Communion—the moments when she’s most emotionally naked—at the midpoint, where these characters’ first sex scene might go were this a novel about two lovers. The close-ups of Father Phil pouring wine into a Communion cup and delivering it straight to Carmela’s lips along with the Host are the true consummation of a storyline about sexual energy being teased out and shut down (or redirected). It’s in these scenes that we move beyond the question of “Will they or won’t they?” and enter darker territory. Carmela is in denial about her husband’s affairs, but those pale in comparison to the other sins, the literal crimes, that she can’t bring herself to confront. Her confession to Father Phil, delivered on the same couch where her family watches TV, sums up this series’ fascination with evil and compromise, false faces and self-deception. “I have forsaken what is right for what is easy, allowing what I know is evil in my house,” she says. “Allowing my children—Oh my God, my sweet children!—to be a part of it, because I wanted things for them. I wanted a better life, good schools. I wanted this house. I wanted money in my hands, money to buy everything I ever wanted. I’m so ashamed! My husband, I think he has committed horrible acts. . . . I’ve said nothing, I’ve done nothing about it. I got a bad feeling it’s just a matter of time before God compensates me with outrage for my sins.”

Late in “College” there’s a scene with Tony that explicitly connects the two stories. As Tony sits in a university hallway at Bowdoin College waiting for Meadow to be interviewed, he looks up at a quote emblazoned on a large panel hanging over a doorway: “No man can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude without finally getting bewildered as to which may be true.”43 It’s a slight misquote from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter, about a minister who falls in love with a woman and breaks his vows.

Father Phil tells her exactly what she needs to hear about repenting and renouncing sin, even as we can suspect this is Carmela’s momentary burst of remorse before she returns to enjoying the benefits of being a made guy’s wife. By the next morning—after Father Phil is saved from a second moment of temptation by a stomach too full of pasta and alcohol—Carmela has, indeed, reverted to type. She couldn’t have been more vulnerable in her confession, nor could she be any colder or more in control as Phil stumbles around in his undershirt trying to apologize for his behavior.

The correct quote is, “No man can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true”—as in, “the true face.”

Excerpt from the new book The Sopranos Sessions by Matt Zoller Seitz and Alan Sepinwall published by Abrams Press; © 2019 Matt Zoller Seitz and Alan Sepinwall. To order your copy of the book, click here

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