#whose motivation was wanting to be a captain-

[peachlvs]

i rewatched the episodes again, and izzy's whole “redemption arc” should have been left out honestly. i know the writing is suffering because we have fewer episodes this season, but the writers chose to spend a lot of that very limited time focusing on izzy for some reason, and yet his character is completely inconsistent.

it doesn't matter that the crew accepts and supports him, it still doesn't make sense for him to suddenly be singing songs and wearing makeup, when he was threatening to kill ed for acting soft and not wanting to be a pirate in 1x10. this 180 turn was not set up in any way and they have not justified it. season one izzy was not secretly dreaming of love, acceptance and community lmao, like WHERE are these motivations coming from??

i really thought this episode batch was where we were gonna see him own up to his part in the whole kraken ordeal, cause his whole arc DOESN'T WORK without that. but all we got was ed apologizing AGAIN, making izzy out to be the victim, when we all know he was creaming his pants from eating toes in season one.

THIS is what feels like fan service to me. in the worst way. this feels like fanon actually.

it feels like since izzy was such a popular character in season one, they thought they had to redeem him so that they could keep him around and make his stans happy, cause it would not make sense to keep season one izzy around for this long.

there are some other issues with the writing this season, that i blame more just on the cut down to 8 episodes, but this whole izzy thing is on the writers cause they chose to put so much focus on him. if they didn't have the time to write a proper redemption arc for him, the whole show would've been better served by spending that time on the other characters; like jim and olu, who've been completely sidelined this season.

[dirtysvthoughts]

mafia boss! wonwoo x reader headcanons

tags/warnings: smut, female! reader, reader is shorter than wonwoo, some pwp, some worldbuilding before the smut (you know how i do), pet names (pretty girl, little one, etc.), mentions of love languages, mentions of lingerie, fingering, lots of kissing and making out, mentions of a dinner, apartment sex, kitchen sex into bedroom sex, make sure they wrap it up before you unwrap it! i’m actually highly upset i can’t have wonwoo blow my back out on a regular

author’s note: first of all, HEY BESTIES! i know i’ve been kinda silent, but i’m slowly getting back my will and motivation to write (do NOT take 3 classes during the summer). i’ve been dying to get my thoughts out on this after the lalali mv, and who knows - this may end up as a full length fic sometime soon 👀 let’s get into it!

———

-mafia boss! wonwoo whose gang started off small, and now he runs one of the largest mafia organizations in the country. he’s cunning, smart, sly, intimidating, even ruthless. those under him respect and admire him, from his vice-leader to the newer members. he strikes fear into several and he is not to be taken lightly or crossed. several groups have been eliminated with just a few words from his lips (like he said, he’s a monster).

-then enter you, his lover, whose entire lifestyle is the opposite of the one he leads. you’re just a simple office worker, but you’re fortunate enough to have some extra pleasures, like a lavish apartment and a decent social life. wonwoo has had his share of women and previous relationships, but you were different. you keep him level headed and grounded. your calm demeanor and intelligence are so very, very attractive to him. and of course, your looks and natural beauty were stunning. he’s protective of you and would prefer you rather not get involved in any of his business endeavors.

-even though he insists on not bringing you into his craziness, he wants to help you out and provide for you as much as he can. his acts of service have ranged from his captains running errands for you to even giving you large monetary gifts every few months.

smut under the cut!! minors DO NOT INTERACT FROM HERE!

-good god, sex with mafia boss! wonwoo would go two ways: rough sex with you screaming and begging for mercy or soft sex with you whimpering and moaning his name, telling you to hold your cum in until he says you can release it. either way, his dominance will be asserted.

-has multiple pet names for you, but absolutely loves calling you: “little one,” “princess,” “my darling,” and “pretty girl.”

-mafia boss! wonwoo has an OBSESSION with you in lingerie. he. can’t. get. enough. he’s bought you multiple sets, and of course has his favorites. absolutely loves it when you dress up for him, he will roam his calloused hands up and down your body, kissing your stomach as he toys with the hem of your panties.

-one of your sexual encounters was in his gang’s warehouse (before the group’s weekly meeting, so it was empty). he looked so dashing in his green gucci suit, hair pulled back into a bun - the wetness gushing in your panties making it clear you needed him. when he closes and locks the warehouse garage door, he crashes his lips onto yours while his hands grab your ass. he grunted something about missing you and how he needed to feel your tight cunt around him. at the moment, you’re unable to form words, but you feel the exact same way, all you could think about was him while you were working and the last time he fucked you silly. he walks you over to a table, lips still on yours and his hands now moving to take off your blouse. he tosses the white garment to the side, leaving you in your bra and work pants. once the back of your knees hit the edge of the table, he guides you to lay on top, clearing off everything in your way - objects loudly crashing to the floor. he caresses your face as his right hand works the clasps and the zipper on your pants, fingers slowly trailing inside your panties, and lightly touching your clit from the outside. you can help but bite your lip and moan his name, wonwoo smirking in response and he rubs the pad of his fingers around your part. “think you can finish before junghoon (his vice leader) gets here, little one?”

-another wonderful sexual encounter brought out his soft dom side. he wanted to spend some time with you, so you two set a date where he can come over to your place, have some food, and enjoy your company. on the day of, he rings the doorbell to your apartment, bringing with him a bottle of champagne, dressed in a white mock turtleneck with black pants. when you open the door, a smile appears on his face and you take his hand, leading him through the door. you just put him at ease, and he feels so comfortable around you. “i missed you my darling,” he whispers as he kisses your hand, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

-some time passes after dinner, and the two of you are talking in the kitchen with champagne still in your glasses. as you sit on the counter, wonwoo finishes washing the dishes, thanking you for the meal. you shrug and say it was nothing and you didn’t mind, but wonwoo insists that it was something more. “i know i don’t say this a lot, but i want to let you know that i do love you, and you mean a lot to me.” your heart melts at his words and you give wonwoo a hug as he comes back to your side. “i love you too, baby,” you whisper. a few moments later, you delicately press your lips on his, and he seals the deal. your tongues dance together as you continue to kiss, this time your hands are the first to move and they tug at the hem of his turtleneck, pulling it up to reveal some of his abs. he helps you out as his shirt goes higher, and it’s quickly tossed to the other side of the room. he returns the favor by taking off your crop top, revealing the bra that beautifully accentuates your breasts. he licks his lips as he kisses your neck, his hands moving slowly up your thighs. “w-wonwoo,” you whine, “i need you!” “i know, darling, i know,” he responds. “you’ll have everything you want and more tonight.” he carries you bridal style to your bedroom, lips still locked together as gently tosses you onto the bed.

-you’re pretty sure by now your neighbors can hear you moan for your partner, but you could care less right now - wonwoo was thrusting into so deliciously that you body pinged with each movement. he knew your body and he knew how to please you, and tonight he wanted to make sure just how much you meant to him. filthy phrases leave his mouth, calling you his baby girl, how perfect your pussy was for him, and all he wanted was to see your legs covered in his juices. you grasp onto your hotel-like white sheets, your face contorting as his deep voice and dick send you over the edge when he hits your spot and releases his load in you. you breathe heavily as you come too, saying his name over and over as if it was the only thing you knew.

“i love you little one,” he kisses your cheek as he pulls out, embracing you as you cuddle up to his side.

“mmm, i love you too.”

[bonefall]

do you have any tips for writing a low empathy character who isn't evil? Or how to make an interesting apathetic character who's a thoughtless sort of evil? These are two different chatacters btw-

I tried looking up examples and stuff but uh. It's been a bit fruitless.

Honestly it's not too hard! Having low empathy just means we're bad at automatically "connecting" to the feelings of other people. You can come to understand it's not even a character flaw once you uncouple the idea that Empathy = Kindness. And apathy, well, that one's a bit more complicated imo.

Low Empathy

In English, it's just unfortunately super common to conflate Empathy and Compassion. To have compassion is to be aware of the suffering of another person, and ergo, want to help stop it. To be empathetic is to identify with and understand the feelings of another person. These are different things.

For an example in action; imagine a medic with a patient whose shoulder is dislocated, and xey'll need to pop that arm back in place in order for the patient to feel better.

A medic feeling EMPATHY for that patient is having an emotional response to what xey're seeing. Xey might have a tingly "ghost pain" thinking about the injury, and xey might feel guilty xey're going to put them in more agony, but also joy because this patient is going to feel much better in just a moment.

A medic feeling COMPASSION for that patient is thinking about how the shoulder must be causing a lot of pain, and knows xey have the skill to fix it. Xey know from xeir own experience that pain sucks and so it is a bad thing that needs to go away. It will hurt a little more for a moment, but then there will be immediate relief.

This is imo, why a lot of low empathy people are "bad at" comforting people without going to Autism College where they give you the scripts of Shit Neurotypicals Say. We're not trying to be selfish when we end up making "comfort sessions" about ourselves-- that's what we think empathy is, because we don't have a lot of it to really know what you want.

Like, doesn't it make sense to you? "I don't know what you're feeling. Here's a similar situation I've been though. I must know what you're feeling-- does that make you feel better? That you aren't alone? I think that's what empathy is, am I right?"

A LOT of low empathy people go into medical fields, the funeral industry, and disaster relief. We often really do want to help people so seek these fields out, or when we get there, just end up not getting burnt out like our high-empathy peers!

Apathy

As for the apathetic character, honestly, I'd suggest thinking about your story's themes. Villains are very special to me and I always try to handle them with care. What are you trying to say is bad to not care about in your work? How does their apathy play into the story you're trying to tell?

A Captain Planet villain is completely selfish, and exists only to benefit itself by exploiting nature in some way. Then the Planeteers show up and punch it in the face. Boiled down to its barest, most simple essentials; "We have conflicting goals and so I will stop you."

Personally I find total apathy to be something not especially compelling in villains, for that reason. Like, if you really don't care about anything, why bother with the trouble of going against the protag? Motivation is meant to be MOTIVATING.

(also ngl I'm on the Shadow As A Hero sort of bandwagon where I find it much funnier for the simple apathetic cool edgy guy to be the funniest person on your tennis team)

Dungeon Meshi has TWO characters who struggle with apathy, and are both antagonists at some points in the story, but never villains. Shuro and Mithrun. The theme of Dungeon Meshi is the beauty and complexity of life, the value of living, and how our connections to others changes the people we are. Food is a metaphor for bonding, self-care, and understanding.

For Shuro, he begins the story as someone who's both been encouraged to bottle up his emotions for the sake of other people, as well as to not actually consider the emotions of those lower-born than him. He's from a very different place than the other members of his party, and this causes friction as class, culture, and sophisticated, refined, weapons-grade autism clashes.

When the woman he loves is eaten by a dragon, he doesn't stop to tell her brother and """childhood friend""" what he's planning, as if they both wouldn't run in and get hurt. He owns demi-humans. He doesn't consider his own needs or the needs of his rescue team of loyal vassals. As a result, he's too weak to continue, losing a fistfight with one of the main characters, Laios.

After this, he connects with him for the very first time, and reaches out to him by giving him an important magic item. There's even a MASSIVE moment where he outright tells Laios that his ability to be so open (read: not have to mask his autism) is something he envies, breaking through that veil of apathy he wears.

The story Dungeon Meshi is telling here is that it is important to value the needs of yourself and of others. Shuro's apathy towards his own needs in a bid to prove his love weakened him. In acting like he was above his old teammates, he never spoke to them like people to smooth out his issues. He's never even noticed how much his vassals love and care for him.

(and the incredible irony is not lost on me, that Shuro's name is because Laios mispronounced it and was never corrected... while Shuro never noticed that Izutsumi had the unwanted name "Asebi" forced onto her when she was "taken in" and made his slave.)

See how that comes back to the theme? Shuro doesn't exist to just "be some asshole" or act like a villain. He has a full character arc that contributes to the narrative.

For Mithrun? I won't even spoil it. Go read Dungeon Meshi. Watch elf depression. We love a king with strabismus.

Anyway,

If you ever need good personal resources on any stigmatized mental condition, I've found it's usually productive to go into the #Actually (Thing) tag here on Tumblr. You can find people posting about basically anything. I found a lot of really good resources on NPD that way.

[frenchgremlim1808]

Why Midori is such a breath of fresh air or how to actually write a Villain.

So the awaited essay, the winner of the FrenchGremlin polls of laziness finally has come! It took some time but it’s finally over. If your choice didn’t get chosen that’s okay! I’ll repost a new poll with old and newer options. Please reblog this one i put a lot of time in it, it's like, five pages long over a silly goose. Also sorry for the grammar i sucks and i'm not native. So let’s begin:

(also here is the link to the video format)

So first let’s make things clear, What IS a villain?

“A villain is a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.” That is why I do want to make a difference between a villain and an antagonist, an antagonist is a character who are a plot devices that creates obstruction to the protagonist. That means that a villain is forced to be an antagonist while an antagonist is not forced to be a villain. For example shin is an antagonist but not a villain, he is driven by selfish desires which are themselves fueled by fear anger and loss, he is the protagonist of his own story and is a sympathetic character despite it all, and Midori is just a bitch. Midori falls under multiple stereotypes of villains. Such as “the mastermind”, “evil incarnate” (lmao),”related to the protagonist” etc. Midori is evil, there is no denying in this, he is purely evil, and he doesn’t have a sad weepy backstory, he doesn’t feel empathy towards other, he is a despicable piece of shit who ruined so many lives. I won’t list everything but here is a list of his crimes, murder, assault, domestic abuse, grooming, verbal abuse, and torture, crimes against humanity lmao, stalking, violent crimes, and participation in a cult. And his worst crime is being a pussy bitch of course. So now that we have put the bases up let’s really begin.

Hollywood has a hate boner against villains and I hate them for that.

Recently Hollywood decided that pure evil bad guys is actually a bad thing, so now they decided to do stupid side story with them, to give them ”””depth””” since I guess how could we like those villains since they are bad. A great example of this is the Disney remakes which I loathe so much oh god I hate them. So first they did a maleficient it was okay honestly, then they did a freaking cruella movie where her mom gets killed by Dalmatians, that’s not a joke, in the peter and wendy movie that nobody saw they decided to have made the captain hook be a lost boy who was abandoned by the lost boys and peter, oh also they decided that PETER CUT HIS HANDS OFF AND LEFT HIM TO DIE BECAUSE HOOK WANTED TO SEE HIS FAMILY. They are going to do a freaking mufasa movie, in no time I can’t wait to have a Ursula movie where it’s discovered that ariel killed all of her family in cold blood or something’s. So you might say what’s the problem? I mean isn’t that supposed to make the story more interesting. No, no it doesn’t, because first they take all of the character personality traits and throw them in the bin, second they are supposed to be the vilain in a musical animated movies, I am not against complex villain, I love them, but by doing this, the original character doesn’t exist anymore. Just create original content with new interesting characters instead of doing stuff like this. Also it’s kind of funny than in all of those interpretation they take all the fun and sucks it out, what do I mean by fun, the gayness, Disney vilain are fun because they are camp, they are fabulous extravagant extra in all the ways possible, and that’s the reason we liked them. Not every character needs something super deep, like “my family was burned down at the stake and my dog was eaten by my ex”, sometimes we just like bad fun people, they are the story, and Hollywood hating them so bad just bothers me a lot. Also now the new thing is to not have a villain at all which can works in some narrative but not all of them, it gets boring after a while. In the past people were angry that villains are bland, but now I kind of miss it. While I will critique villains who have no purpose outside of being evil that’s dumb, like for example Voldemort is bland like white bread because his only motivation is being evil, but evil people do exist compared to what some Hollywood writers think, they should know. So that’s why I will put a difference between evil villains and villains whose only purpose is being evil; we loved Disney villains but they still had motivations, goals, reasons that to them a least were worth everything. World domination isn’t enough, why do you want world domination, what is the true reason deep in your heart, is it an inferiority complex, is it a savior complex fuelled by xenophobic beliefs.

That is how to write a pure evil villain, evil people exist all over the world, but I have never seen one who doesn’t have they own reasons to be so bad, it doesn’t excuse their actions nor really explains them. We do not want justifications we want explanations. If you are justifying evil behavior then do it, but don’t claim that it is a pure evil character. A pure evil character can be fun, can be interesting, he can be deep, it’s all about balancing all of their traits to truly make them greats. Which is why midori succeeds while current villains fail. Current stupid remake/spin off try to justify the behavior because they feel like this is what the audience wants, but it’s not what we need. So I will defend to the grave evil villains.

Creating an evil villain doesn’t make them boring guys.

Why the heck does big budget movies have either the blandest protagonist or the blandest villains sometimes both, like I said evil people do exist but comically evil character only works in satire not in a serious multiple millions of dollar movie. Example that boring ass avatar movie, the one with blue people, none of the characters are interesting the villain is one note. The lords of the rings also suffers from that, but I don’t care because the protagonist are so awesome that sauron being personality less doesn’t matter. Also sauron is more of a force of nature villains so it’s not the same. The recent kingsman movie has a bland one note villain, there is nothing entertaining, funny, about him he’s just evil, borrrrring. Every Disney remakes depiction of the characters are boring. I just feel bored out of my mind. Atla one of my favorite shows of all time has a main villain that’s kinda one note, Ozai, but he is actually intimidating guy, azula is the superior character, but I wouldn’t consider her a villain she is an antagonist though. I honestly don’t get why Hollywood thinks that just creating a character with no personality and whose only goals is to be evil is good.

So back to midori for a second, here is my question, when midori was on screen did you ever feel bored? Never right! Because despite midori being an evil character he has an actual personality, he’s fun, you want to punch him in the balls. Because midori has other personality traits than evil, midori is petty, childish, extremely intelligent, controlling, a natural manipulator, he is a trickster, he doesn’t seem to get some social norms, he is narcissistic, easily angry, and fears death etc See how I counted a lot of traits, traits that in other character would works, midori has positive traits, and I think that is the best thing nankidai could have ever done, midori has traits that a regular person could have. Which is why if I put midori in any settings his character would work.

Example, instead of a death game the cast is under the sea to discover the insane wildlife and supernatural stuff happening, what would midori do in this situation? Well he would very passionate about finding all of what’s happening, he’ll do anything to find out, even sometime sacrificing others, not only will he try to find what’s happening, but he is also going to try to find a way to make this discovery favour him in the end. Or let’s imagine it’s a vampire situation, where a vampire attacks  the city, midori would try to stop it, not because he cares, but to experiment on them to get their biology and finds the real secret of immortality since he fears death.

Here is my second advice, after creating your character try to imagine them in another completely different situation, like normal life, or a fantasy world, ask yourself the question what would they do in that environment? If you can find a real complete explanation of their actions then yes your character has multiples dimensions if not try thinking about it again. Some example of questions I do want to point out are some like “if my character had all the power in the world what would they do first or”, “if my character had only a day left to live what would they do”

Why is Current media incapable of creating good threats like bruhhhh.

Okay so first of all let’s talk about stakes in a story, let’s say you are watching a slasher movie, slowly the cast gets slimmed down and people die in horrible ways, that should set stakes right ? Well if the villain is an absolute buffoon who makes the stupidest actions and decisions in the world, you wouldn’t feel intimidated at all because despite what the filmmaker might try to say the plot armor will NEVER make a character intimidating. It’s just like a detective character who just seems to know everything without a thought, well you won’t really fear the character failing. Worse is the the final girl, who is for some reason always escaping the slasher guy by pure luck every time, she is shown as incompetent but still she survives, which make the villain seem completely incapable so now you feel nothing.

To avoid this filmmaker often use techniques such has unpredictability, I mean good I mean good ones, for example instead of immediately seeing whose going to survive because the black guys always dies first and the virgin white woman is the last survivor, change the status quo, make us think that this character is obviously safe while they actually aren’t at all. Or actually make them menacing by SHOWING to the audience how horrible dangerous they can be. Which is why SHOW DON’T TELL is so important, telling us how dangerous someone can be only to see them get beaten to death at the end of the movie makes us feel nothing.

Midori felt like a impossible person to beat, he is smart, had twenty plans in advance, even in situation where the cast felt like they might have a chance he was always armed, just like the gun he promised to use or the rocket punch. When they felt like they were finally advancing, he put obstacle in their ways, such as the collar game or the moment he put the collar on explode mode for  ranmaru. The entire point in the murder game was to make time pass, it took a long time for the cast top realize that this whole time they were losing precious time not realizing that the dummies were the real problem. The characters that made you feel the most hopeless were the dummies, if you won by killing midori they would die, but if you lost you might lose people you love (keiji or gin). It felt hopeless because they were no solutions in the end. That creates tension so that creates stakes. If we were told how dangerous unpredictable sou was then it wouldn’t hit the same, we are shown that he is that terrible. There is a scene ingame where bbg shin ai tells us that midori tortured and like to destroy people. That’s exposition so TELL, but do you why it works, because we are SHOWN before his behavior. Midori felt unbeatable, so the fact that we were shown his weakness such has his petty behavior, hatred of minors, and fear of death, for the first time it feels like there is a chance that we might survive this. And still after he isn’t shown has an incompetent buffoon, he is one, but the narrative doesn’t show us that he is.

What is also consider is good to make the audience feel actual stakes is to first really develop well the main characters, how can we feel worry for a character if we don’t know them, the audience need to feels emotional connection to the main cast to actually care. You can use things such has moments where there is nothing special happening just character talking getting to know them. Make us feel why we need to care about them possibly losing, instead of being indifferent. Or I don’t know maybe make an entire spin off game where we get to have the cast talk to each other and seeing dynamics between character that died early to get them a chance to shine and make their death even more tragic, or even make mini episodes of characters who only got a single chapter to show off their characteristic, to get us to know them better? But that’s just a silly idea of course, wink, and wink.

My favorite thing about Midori is that he is actually pathetic, like really pathetic, but weirdly realistic?

Midori is the most pathetic character in the cast, yes more than shin, shin is leagues less pathetic. No I’m not saying that midori is not intimidating or scary, I would piss myself if I saw him. He’s a scary guy. But if you look at him more closely you can see that he is a baby brat in a big boy suit.

So let’s start by something clear, Sou Hiyori clearly displays antisocial behavior, or in common terms he is a psychopath/sociopath, this illness is very badly seen in medias, I am not saying that people who lacks empathy like him are inherently bad, he is, a lot of people with antisocial behavior actually suffers a lot and have a difficult life. Sou real issues is not his antisocial behavior, it’s his narcissism and god complex. Sou feels the need to HAVE CONTROL over others, he like the feeling of being in power, he sees the rest of the world has beneath him, toys for his pleasure. He says that he “really like humans” because despite it all he seems to put himself in a different categories than regular people, they are beneath him. When he loses control his calm and cool behavior disappears and we see his true face, a grown man who has throws a tantrum like a baby. One of the best representation of this is midori views on the cast:

Midori hates kanna, like no jokes he has beef with her, a fourteen years old, actually he has beef with a lot of people in the cast. Midori views emotional people has weak, people who are loving optimistic as beneath him and useless. He preferred when sara was cruel and horrible, that’s what he loved about her, he liked seeing her scary emotionless side. But Kanna, kanna is everything he hates. A crybaby who not only puts the group in harmony, is a source of hope in general, is the reason he near got to have closure with shin (killing him), he views kanna as “not fun shin”. We have many proofs for this, if you type the word kanna kizuchi he says this: “Poor Kanna'd weep! I think a more worthless name would be better for someone like me” He mocks her, but also himself (I’lll come back on this later), he calls her worthless. Also in the electric charge minigame, when he can choose who to shocks he chooses two people in particular, kanna who he hates and hinako who ruined his fun by giving the cast a chance in saving ranmaru. But he does also says mean spirited stuff to other people, qtaro and gin. He also says some sarcastic comments about nao and joe, saying that it’s such a shame that they died so young. But you might say why kanna especially? Because he is a petty baby who is jealous of kanna, Yes jealous, of kanna, a fourteen years old. Because he feels like she stole his hubby wubby shin away from him…. God I hate him. And you know what that make him a pathetic idiot, after the scene where kanna beats his ass, he’s all mad and like “uhh I’m going to pout I wanted you to cry like a lot, now I’m gonna cry”. An that’s actually god, because it humanize him, he wants need thoughts, he isn’t one note, and that’s the most important!

Sou is a villain but before that he is a character, a fully developed character, and THAT’S WHAT MAKE HIM GREAT, Sou works because he works realistically, I mean if you forget the robot part, it’s easy to imagine a narcissist man child who needs to feel in power towards other, so his main prey are young vulnerable people.Which leads me to my next point:

Sou is a failure like really, and we aren’t sad for him.

Sou failed everything he worked on, he failed to get the paper from alice, he failed whith shin since he had to leave earlier than he thought he would leave, because of his mistake he lost his position in the death game, then he failed to kill gin or keiji, and then he died like an idiot losing his cool and acting like a toddler. And he knows it that why he is a bit self-hating (he should be). And yet none of us feel any sympathy towards him, why? Because sou is one of the most despicable guy in existence. He is a disgusting pervert, sadistic asshole, and abusive narcissistic cunt who thinks he is better than everyone. From the bottom of my heart I hate him sooooo much he is literally the character I hate the most in existence. He abused shin, ruined keiji’s life, traumatized the entire cast, literally assaulted sara like he physically assaulted her. He mocked nao and joe and kugie life as useless. He is an obsessive jerk AND I HATE HIM. And you know what…… It’s good. Like I actually feel a lot of emotions when I think about him, he fuels me with anger and disgust, and if your characters can make me feel that much rage then you did it, you created an actual perfect character. Hiyori is such a shit person that I think about him a lot, writers shouldn’t be scared to make a character such hittable assholes, example bojack horseman in bojack horseman is the vilest man on earth and I love it, because I genuinely hate him. Just like I genuinely love kanna, like really I really love her, I in the same time despise midori so bad. We hate him because he is horrible to good people that WE KNOW AND CARE ABOUT, not random npcs. There is a lot of… disgusting implications in his story with shin that I will not talk about it makes me really uncomfortable right now. SO HERE IS A VERY TACKY TRANSITION TO TALK ABOUT WHY I HATE JUNKO FROM DANGANRONPA.

Junko is boring, that’s it, she is boring, not funny not interesting, she is a fetish, she is the biggest Mary sue on earth, she is a gross character made to make fun of people with disabilities and queer people. Her only traits is being crazy, that’s it. I wouldn’t call midori that crazy actually, he’s methodical calculated, and precise. Crazyness is a term for people who aren’t in control of their actions and delusional about reality, sou is not crazy, he knows what he is doing, he is in full control, while characters like shin should actually be consider crazy, like shin is actually crazy but sou isn’t.

Conclusion:

Sou is a breath of fresh air, because nankidai had the balls to write an actually interesting deep and threatening character AND make him a villain. He didn’t fall into the trap of making him have a sad backstory or good motives, sou is just selfish, that’s all he is. He make him a fun entertaining guy who you absolutely hates, he made him threatening and at the same time a complete doofus. He made him humane and pathetic.

But the thing that make me love nankidai the most is this

The fact that he actually killed him that takes courage as a writer to just end a character THAT WAY, which is why midori will never come back alive he is forever dead. And that take a lot of talents as a writer to just take one of the most important characters and just get him drilled to death in the anus, like dammn nankidai you are a savage. That fact alone makes him one of the best characters in game, I hate him as a person, but has a character he is a masterpiece.

Though Kanna could solo him

this was posted as a video on my blog this is mainly so people who don't want to stay there reading a 24 minute video of my stuttering can have a bit of quiet

[lesbians4lottienat]

Jealous, Much?

Nat doesn’t appreciate the way Misty looks at her girlfriend. The only problem? Nat hasn’t exactly called you her girlfriend yet.

fem!reader (she/her pronouns used and reader is referred to as a girl), reader is a team assistant like misty, nat is mean to misty because she’s jealous lol

Nat stood on the field, dribbling the ball absentmindedly between her feet. Surprisingly, she was the first to arrive, although it wasn’t much of a surprise to her. She had been doing this for about a week, albeit with ulterior motives. Simply put, she wanted to spend time with you before the rest of the team got there, and she actually had to play. If that meant she had to show up to practice early and, in general, so be it.

However, you were too busy with Misty setting up a water cooler and warm-up equipment for the team. Nat saw Misty say something, causing you to laugh. Misty beamed up at you while Nat gritted her teeth. It probably wasn’t even funny, she thought, but she’s too nice not to laugh.

“What’s up with you?”

Nat startled, snapping her neck in the direction of the voice. Oh. It was Jackie. Of course, the team captain would be there early. Shauna must’ve driven them there.

“Nothin’, just thinking,” Nat said with a roll of her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood for Jackie’s snooping right now. The brunette raised an eyebrow at this before following Nat’s gaze over to the two girls, now joined by Shauna. She sighed before speaking again.

“I know you’re at least nice to one of them, but you should lighten up on Misty! She’s not…that bad.”

Panic surged in Nat’s stomach before she realized what Jackie meant. She wasn’t accusing Nat of liking you; she was accusing her of finding Misty annoying.

“Whatever,” she mumbled, passing the ball to Jackie, whose brow furrowed in concern at the blonde's lack of bite in her words.

The rest of the team arrived at the soccer field one by one. They performed their usual warm-ups before playing a practice game. The entire time, however, Nat was distracted. She wasn’t performing well, and everyone could tell something was wrong. Hopefully, they didn’t notice that she faltered every time Misty grabbed a hold of your arm or brushed hands with you.

Eventually, Coach Scott pulled her aside and asked if she was alright. She hated how he looked at her and the way they all looked at her. She hated feeling weak.

After a few more easy shots were missed, her coaches and teammates suggested she take a breather. It was annoying. What was even more annoying, though, was the way Misty looked at you—so full of love and adoration. It made Nat sick to her stomach.

“God, Misty, can you keep it in your pants? Some of us are trying to focus here!”

Misty’s face flushed a bright red. Nat huffed at the confused looks before storming off in the direction of the locker room.

She stomped inside, slamming her locker open and pulling her jersey over her head. She began changing into her regular clothes but paused when she heard a familiar voice.

“What the hell was that?”

It was you. Of-fucking-course.

“Why do you even care?” she seethed, refusing to look in your direction. She resumed changing and angrily threw her uniform into the locker.

“Because you confused the hell out of everyone? And because you almost made Misty cry? And because you won’t even look at me?”

Part of her was happy to know she had almost made Misty cry, but the other part swirled hatefully in her gut at the concerned tone of your voice when recounting the event. She hated it. Hated how nice you were to Misty.

There was an awkward pause as Nat gathered her things until, eventually, you spoke again.

“Nat, come on. Talk to me?”

Nat hated you. She hated your stupidly affectionate, concerned voice and how well it worked on her.

“She was clearly flirting with you!”

“…what?”

“What,” she starts, “Were you just going to let her feel you up like that?”

You stared at Nat, utterly confused, before it clicked.

“Oh my god. Are you fucking jealous, Scatorccio?”

Nat’s nostrils flared, and her cheeks flushed. She quickly walked towards you, trapping you in the corner of the room. She glared, opening her mouth to speak, but you promptly cut her off.

“You have no right to be acting like this, you asshole! You don’t even want me!”

…what?

She must’ve verbalized her confusion as you seemingly grew angrier.

“You kiss me at Jackie’s party, then you avoid me for a week. You flirt with me early before everyone gets here, then act like I don’t exist. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t like me like that, but now, you’re acting like I’m taken?”

Nat freezes. She glowers up at you, her lip trembling. You stare back, visibly upset. Then, she pulls on your jacket, smashing her lips against your own. You let out a muffled noise of surprise before kissing back, wrapping your arms around Nat’s neck while Nat’s hands land on your hips.

Eventually, you two pull away, breathless. Nat speaks first.

“You’re mine, okay?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s a terrible way to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

Nat stiffens. She’s…new to this. She’s never really labeled a relationship like this with a girl. But, judging by how it makes her heart flutter, she wouldn’t mind calling you her girlfriend.

“S-sorry,” you stutter, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or, like-“

“Shut up and kiss me.”

[burningfairytales]

On Bokuto being Fukurodani’s captain

I promised myself I wouldn’t make another Bokuto defence post, but I’ve been reliably informed the Fukurodani tag is lacking posts and I’m here to contribute.

We’ve probably all seen it - the post that is like, “every captain acts like a father figure to their team, and then there’s Fukurodani”

And I mean, it’s funny. It got a good chuckle out of me, too, because that is how jokes work. Jokes have to be funny, they don’t necessarily have to be true.

Because yes. For Karasuno, whose line-up consists of three first-years, and the dynamic duo Tanaka-and-Noya, sure, Daichi is more of a father figure. So is Kuroo, I suppose, for Nekoma (though where Daichi is the tough-love kind of dad, I see Kuroo as the “hey x, i’m dad” kind of person.)

And it works for them, because that’s what those teams need.

They’re young. They’re chaotic. They need a voice of reason (Karasuno) or, failing that, at least someone who’s capable of mediating in a fight. Who’s willing to tell the children to suck it up and make up, even if they weren’t in the wrong (Nekoma).

A captain should be what the team needs, after all.

But that is not how Fukurodani works.

Fukurodani has a completely different dynamic than Nekoma and Karasuno. Sure, they bicker. They probably fight, too. But listen. Save Akaashi and Onaga, the entire team is made up of third years - and we all know that in terms of maturity, Akaashi is on their level if not higher.

(Sorry Onaga. I’m afraid I don’t know enough about him yet to include him in that statement. Doesn’t come across as particularly childish either, for what it’s worth!)

So you’ve got an elite team. A team of more-or-less adults. The millennial kind of of adults, maybe - the “i need an adultier adult” kind. But a team of people who know when it’s okay to fool around and when it’s time to call it quits.

In a team like that, what use is a father figure?

And then there’s Bokuto.

Bokuto who is very much not mature at all. Bokuto who doesn’t know when to stop, when to call it quits. Bokuto who goes out to play not for the sake of winning, but to enjoy playing. To have fun. Winning is just the result of that.

Bokuto who looks at his teammates and gives them permission to just fool around and have fun, just for the sake of it. Want to try a cool spike? Great! It worked? That’s awesome, teach me how to do it.

Didn’t work? Too bad, try again.

Bokuto who gently and sometimes not-so-gently pushes his team. Try harder. Do better. Not because it’s disappointing if they don’t, but because it’s more fun if they do - because Bokuto firmly believes that they can.

Fukurodani is a great team. An elite team. They know they’re good. Maybe sometimes, just “good” feels like enough to them - but never to Bokuto. If you run three laps today, you might make it to four tomorrow. Maybe five laps the day after.

Bokuto is the kind of person who reaches, who moves forward, who doesn’t want to stop improving.

He’s also the kind of person who motivates his teammates to try harder simply because that’s what he does. They don’t want to fall behind. If Bokuto can do it, then so can we.

I think it’s such in important scene, at the end of the match against Mujinazaka, when Bokuto shakes hands with Kiryuu - not just because, despite their loss, Kiryuu can honestly say that he’s glad he played his last match against Bokuto, though I’d say that says a lot about Bokuto in general. It’s not a bad thing, losing to him. It’s sad - of course it’s sad, but it’s not frustrating. They played a good game. Hell, they had fun. It’s an acceptable loss.

But the really important part, to me, is when Bokuto holds onto his hand and tells him, “you should tell your team to give you better tosses. Even if it’s asking too much. You should still do it.”

Because not only does that show that Bokuto isn’t an idiot - he’s very much aware of what goes on on the field. He noticed that most of those tosses sucked. Kiryuu is amazing for managing to hit those, and Bokuto isn’t afraid of telling him that.

And it’s not even that he’s telling his opponent, hey, you’re already pretty incredibly and you could spike better if the set-up worked in your favour. (Because contrary to what seems a popular opinion, Bokuto’s “I’m the best!” Doesn’t mean “everyone else sucks.” I don’t understand why people tend to make him egoistical. Bokuto stops at nothing to tell others when they’re doing well and compliment them.)

No, the really important part of that exchange is that Bokuto is also saying, you aren’t letting your team improve if you keep letting them keep get away with this.

And it’s true, isn’t it. You can help your classmate cheat or do your coworker’s work for them - it saved them in that moment, maybe, but they will not learn. You’re taking away their opportunity for improvement.

Kiryuu can tell his team, it’s okay if your tosses are shit, I will hit them anyway. But at the end of the day, those tosses are still going to be shit. It doesn’t make them better players, and if any of them want to keep playing after high school they’re going to be in a lot of trouble, because not everyone will be able to hit them - or be even willing to try.

So no, Bokuto is about the farthest thing from a father figure. But he pushed his team to do better. Forces them to pick up the pace one way of another, sometimes maybe through his bad moods, but also by motivating them to stop accepting “good” as “good enough.”

And look, I’m not completey oblivious. I’m fairly certain Bokuto is probably not great at handling the official side of being captain - club applications and funding requests and whatever needs handling. But he’s not doing it alone, is he?

And of course Akaashi is impressive, making vice-captain as a second year. And I’m willing to bet Bokuto was the first to insist he’d have to do it.

So you’ve got the captain who pushes and the vice-captain who keeps things level. I’d say that’s the kind of team Fukurodani needs as their captains, don’t you?

[jen-with-a-pen]

F O X ＨＵＮＴ

summary: Not only has HYDRA executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.

pairings: WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader

word count: 6.1k

warnings: chasing, being hunted down, implied n0n-con elements, canon-level violence, cursing, implied t0rture, blood, beat1ngs, forced nud1ty, language, HYDRA-level cruelty, Bucky gets Brainwashed (again), there's Steve x Reader if you squint REALLY REALLY hard

read here on ao3!

a/n: This was inspired by last year's Whumptober Day 2: NOWHERE TO RUN - CORNERED, CAGED AND CONFRONTATION. I know it's February JUNE, but shit came up and my motivation tanked lmao thanks adhd med trials Literally have never done a dark(er?) fic before and this one has been cooking for god knows how fucking long now. I hope y'all like it <3 (also the hydra victory au is something i discovered from the lovely @lunarbuck reset series and stewed obsessively over for literal months now. still obsessed with it whoops)

dividers by @firefly-graphics | gif by @lost-shoe | @hydravictrix

my ao3 | my masterlist

Translations

Lisitsa | лисица - fox/little fox

Soldat | солдат - soldier

Syuda | сюда - over here

Khitraya suka | хитрая сука - sly bitch

Moy priz | мой приз - my prize

Glupaya pizda | глупая пизда - stupid cunt

Moye | мое - mine

The infiltration was subtle at the start.

A few missions gone mysteriously wrong, agents killed in action or disappearing entirely, hacks that were, thankfully, contained within an inch of a full-blown data breach. All of it seemed so coincidental when it happened, swept under the rug each and every single time before Director Fury could have a swear-filled say as to what the hell was going on. 

But hindsight is 20/20. It always is.

The day S.H.I.E.L.D. fell was, ironically, the perfect day: brilliant sunshine, clear blue skies, a breeze weaving between the towering buildings and skyscrapers. It was almost eerie, in a way, how perfect of a day it was. 

You found yourself in the gym, Steve and Sam hashing it out on whose turn it was in sparring. You had all but knocked Sam out cold in the previous round as Steve watched from behind the ropes, cheering you on with a cocky, proud grin as he watched all of his hard work in your training pay off.

Of course, the stubborn ass he was, Sam wanted another go. 

“C’mon, Steve! I wanna rematch!” Sam protested, gesturing wildly in your direction with one hand while his other held an ice pack to his bruised temple. Steve stifled a laugh, tossing a glance over his shoulder to you. You shook your head, smiling back as you gulped down the rest of your water bottle. Cool strands spilled out from the corners of your lips and down your chest. You welcomed the relief from the sweat gluing your t-shirt to your skin. 

“How ‘bout I take Steve instead of giving you another concussion?” you retorted, giggling as Sam shot a narrow look at you. He huffed, forfeiting his argument by waving a dismissive hand. 

“Fine, ’m gonna go find some pain meds,” he grumbled, turning to point a swollen finger at Steve. “I better see you in the infirmary next, Cap.” 

He stomped off through the metal doors and left the two of you in silence.

“Whaddya say, sweetheart? You up for round two?” Steve teased, stepping under the ropes and into the ring. He wrapped his hands as he moved to the center, muscle memory carrying him while keeping his eager gaze on you. His eyes carried excitement as they journeyed up and down your figure, rolling his lip between his teeth as he drank you with his stare. 

You did little to hide your pride at the Captain checking you out, chewing the corner of your cheek to tame your own smirk at the beautiful blond. You turned away, hiding the heat from your cheeks as you tossed your bottle at your bag. You weaved under the ropes, coming face to face with your willing opponent in the center. You lifted your chin to meet his, the hidden smirk on your lips growing into a grin.

“With you? Always, old man,” you purred. You tossed him a teasing wink as you positioned your fists in front of you, feet planted firmly in the starting stance. Steve lingered on you for a second longer, tongue swiping across his lips hungrily as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, raising his hands to mirror you.

The two of you began to circle one another, dancing in a familiar pattern you knew by heart. Steve took his first swipe at you and you ducked, managing a hit to his stomach. A grunt escaped from him– not of hurt but of thrill. He lunged for you as you dodged again, blocking his failed strike to your head. 

“Wow! You really can’t teach an old dog new tricks!” you taunted, dodging another blow, his wrapped fist only grazing your shoulder. You rolled it back, holding back a slight wince as you continued the violent waltz. 

You lunged at him, instead faltering and falling to the ground. Readying the curse on your tongue, it stopped short of your lips as you looked up at Steve. 

He stood frozen in place, panting, fists at his sides clenching tighter and tighter. As you opened your mouth to unload even more cursing questions, screeching erupted from the loudspeakers around the room. High-pitched tones screaming above, a robotic voice speaking clinically and quickly. You scrambled off the floor, unease creeping in as you latched onto Steve’s arm, his arm tensing under your touch.

CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS URGENTLY NEEDED. 40th FLOOR. THREAT IS ACTIVE AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS. REPEAT. CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS–

The message had cut out, static replacing it alongside the echoing alarms throughout the hallways outside the gym. You looked up at Steve. Anxiety surged upon finding his face devoid of all blood, his jaw slack, eyes boring into the metal doors leading to the hallway. He looked scared. 

You’d never seen Steve scared before. 

“Steve, what the fuck was that–”

“Get to the locker rooms and hide,” he ordered. He pulled his arm from you, jumping over the ropes and sprinting to his duffel bag on the floor. He pulled out his phone and dialed frantically as he ran to the doors. 

“Steve!” You stood trembling in the ring as your stomach churned. 

“Now!” he yelled. “I’ll come back for you!” 

He didn’t wait to hear your response as he slammed the gym doors shut, followed by a whir and click.

He locked you in. 

You didn’t– couldn’t– hesitate as a surge of urgency overtook you. You needed to hide. Now. Fast.

Your legs carried you as you jumped out of the ring and raced to grab your duffel bag, sprinting to the back of the gym through another set of double doors. You wove through the tiled maze of the locker room searching for some sort of hiding spot, settling on the showers. You snuck over to the stall at the very end, the closest one to the emergency exit, and ducked under the opaque plastic curtain. Your bag fell to the floor as you climbed onto the stall seat. Blood pumped in your ears, thumping as quickly as your shaky, shallow breathing. Millions of thoughts and questions and worries rushed through your mind at impossible speeds.

White and Silver. Which alert was that for?

You racked through fleeting memories, distant recollections of training and orientation from months ago, searching for anything remotely familiar. You remembered all of the other codes– red, orange, teal– but no white, no silver. 

A faint buzzing sounded from inside your duffel. You lunged, unzipping it and fishing out your phone. Natasha. Her name lit up the screen and you frantically hit the answer key before the call could even think about dropping.

“Where the fuck are you?” Her panicked voice hissed into your ear. Her edged tone was enough to make your stomach backflip faster. 

“Locker rooms, forty-fifth floor. What the fuck is going on, Nat?” Your voice shook as anger and confusion boiled in your blood.

A muffled swear. “Where’s Steve?”

“He ran out, locked me in, told me to hide.” More incoherent curses.

“Fuck, fuck, okay, look, trust me on this, you need to stay where you are, okay? I can get you out, I–” 

High-pitched ringing overtook the speaker, sending you reeling away from the receiver. Static echoed out of the speakers.

“You what? Natasha!”

“No– time– you–”

“Natasha! Hello?”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You tore the phone away from your ear and choked back the bile rising in your throat. Service was out. The blinking bars at the top of the screen mocked you and your sudden plunge into isolation. 

The lights went next. 

The dull fluorescents flickered. Someone cut the electricity, sending you into almost darkness as the backup generator lights kicked on. Scattered lights from above cast an eerie yellow glow over the shower tiles. You’d only seen this kind of outage happen once before, when New York was hit with Hurricane Noah a few years back.

The fear you felt in that storm paled in comparison to what you felt now.

You sighed, shaky and surrendering, and pulled your body closer to you on the shower bench. A chill snaked its way down your spine as your skin brushed the cool ceramic, an unwelcome addition to the cold already enveloping you. Your sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts failed to aid you and your aching muscles. Fingernails dug into your kneecaps in a struggle to stop trembling as you tried to focus on your breathing. Inhaling, exhaling, in, out. Screwing your eyes shut, praying to any deity imaginable it was all just a drill, it was all an accident or a misunderstanding or–

The ground shook as a loud bang echoed from outside the locker room. A panicked yelp escaped your throat before your hands could scramble and cover your mouth. You froze as the tremors subsided and listened. It, or they, sounded close. 

Too close. 

Another BANG! Then another. 

Rhythmic, steady blows, each quicker and more powerful than the last. Hands clamped tighter over your lips until your blood froze at the sounds of crushing steel and crumbling concrete. The lump in your throat grew as horrific realization flooded over you. 

They, or it, broke in.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it– those doors were more fortified than Tony’s lab. Four-inch-thick, steel and plexiglass doors with a three-tier secured locking system. Nothing, nobody– not even the strongest Super Soldier– was powerful enough to make the faintest of dents in them.

Racing through who, or what, could have possibly broken into the gym, your train of thought derailed as echoes of men yelling indecipherable words and mixed commands shattered the remaining air of safety you clung to. Listening intently, a mix of combat boots and tactical gear filtered in with the echoed commands.

The S.T.R.I.K.E. Team.

Your legs begged for reprieve from crouching, but your body disobeyed and froze you in place. Part of you didn’t trust who was outside. Footsteps and gruff voices became heavier, closer. The relief that greeted you was replaced again by panic as you listened closer.

Clear, Russian commands resonated at the entrance to the locker rooms. They were coming in. 

Your breath hitched, blood running cold as footsteps closed in. It was one person, but their steps didn’t sound like the heavy boots before them. They sounded more like…

Sneakers?

The rubber from the intruder’s shoes squeaked on the tiled floors. Ragged breathing echoed off the walls. A low growl, accompanied by quiet whirring. Someone big, someone mean. 

Your heart made its way to your throat as the intruder inched closer. Slow, methodical, as if trained in search and rescue. 

It didn’t feel like a rescue.

The lump almost turned into a scream as an echoed BANG carried from the bathroom stalls around the corner. Silence followed, then a growl, then another BANG. The cycle repeated for the remaining stalls, the intruder slowly creeping along. Growls became deeper upon each disappointment. 

Hostages. They were looking for hostages.

Soles squeaked as the intruder changed course, stomping around the corner to search the line of shower stalls. You hiccuped a sob, realizing tears started to trail down your cheeks. Biting your palm only proved a lame attempt to calm your racing heart, a scream threatening to leave your throat as they began tearing the plastic curtains off the stalls. Each clang of metal cracking onto the tile became closer as you ground your teeth into the meat of your hand. Eyes screwed shut, silent prayers raced in your head, pleading to wake up; to wake up from this hellscape of a sick, twisted nightmare. 

The intruder’s steps stopped. 

Your eyes opened, widening at the blurred, hulking shadow standing outside of your stall. They had to be well over six feet. Towering, bulky, monstrous. 

Slowly, the shadow’s hand reached for the curtain. One by one, its fingers closed around the plastic’s edge, preparing to rip it down and rip you open. Eyes burning, hot tears felt like molten metal as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible in your corner, huddling your knees as close as they could be. This was it. This was the end. You prayed– actually fucking prayed– hoping they couldn’t hear your pathetic whimpering, hoping they would make this quick, painless; break your neck or put a gun to your head and get it over with. Leave your body for someone else to find.

“Soldat, syuda!” 

The command made your heart stop.

The shadow froze, stopped by a call from the entrance to the locker room. Skin met your teeth as you bit harder into your hand. Lungs began panicking as you started hyperventilating, bile reaching your throat and burning the back of your tongue. 

The shadow, the monster, growled in protest. It retracted the curled hand from the curtain, wordlessly moving back towards the bathroom stalls. Footsteps faded as muffled conversation floated away from the locker room.

You needed to get the fuck out of there. 

You slid off the bench, legs aching and knees popping as you crouched silently over to the curtain, peeking out behind the plastic. It crinkled quietly and you bit your lip, leaning out ever so slightly over the threshold. 

Tiptoeing around the corner, you faced the emergency exit. The glowing sign omitted a creepy, green glow that added to the eeriness brought by the generator lights. 

This was it.

You slammed the push bar down, throwing the door open with your body and spilling out into the hallway. Sunlight flashed through the infinite glass hallway, blinding you. In your frozen state, you hear commotion from behind the door as it slammed shut. Banging from the other side, the sound of metal on metal, made your teeth grind. Indents from punches dented the door, deforming its smooth outside. You didn’t stay frozen for long as your body screamed at you to fucking move, now.

Your legs obeyed immediately, carrying you through the corridor to the closest means of escape you could find. As you rounded the corner, the crushing sounds of the door breaking off of its hinges hit your ears. You didn’t dare to look back, sprinting through the twists and turns of the infinite hallway. You followed what felt familiar, burning muscles egged on by the sound of pounding footsteps getting closer and closer.

Finally, you stumbled onto the entrance to a stairwell, pausing to gasp for air your lungs demanded. The burn in your legs and chest only aided in the physiological need to hyperventilate. Sweat dripped from your temple and your head pounded as hard as your feet hitting the ground. 

You leaned into the safety bar, inches away from further distancing yourself from whatever, whoever, was on your trail, when a yell erupted from the end of the hallway. 

It felt like slow-motion; one of those scenes in those cheesy horror movies Sam always made you and Steve watch on weekends off. The ones with cheap FX, bad sound, but somehow great editing for the budget. The scenes where realization hits the main character and suddenly everything is half the speed while they still move in real time. 

You turned your head towards the source. Then, it hit you. Blood drained from your face as the horror of realization hit you, like a speeding sixteen-wheeler head on.

Bucky Barnes stood hulking at the end of the hallway. Generator lights and setting sun illuminated his snarling teeth, gleaming from parted lips that had him panting like a rabid dog. If you hadn’t known better it would’ve looked like he was heading for the gym for his daily workout. Blown pupils, sweat-stuck hair, complimented by a shaking frame– most definitely caused by adrenaline, dopamine, and a slew of Gods-knew-what other drugs he had pumped into his system. Splotches of drying, smeared blood coated his neck and shirt while even more dripped onto the ground from his fists. The crimson contrasted with the medically white floors. 

Bile rose in your throat again. The acidic taste made you dry heave at the sight of the blood, knowing from the looks of Bucky it definitely wasn’t his.

He snarled as your eyes finally met. Fists of flesh and metal flexed. Rippling muscles shook as he readied to launch forward.

“You’re mine, lisitsa!” he barked. His voice booming louder than the speed of sound, it made your ears ring.

Your throat finally opened. You screamed as he sprinted towards you, making more ground down the hallway than an apex predator out of hibernation. You shoved the exit door open, heaving your legs forward as you ascended the stairs. No choice but to go up, you refused to look back– nay you didn’t dare to even consider it. Muscles and tendons and joints burned, yearning for you to stop, but the door slamming from flights below you only pushed you harder, flying up and passing floor after floor. 

You were fast, but he was faster. 

Dizziness overtook you as your vision began to blur. Darkened edges of your peripherals made you stop your climb at level 50, pausing for a split second to hear Bucky’s progress. He was close behind, but you still had more of an advantage. You knew the Tower better than him. You knew level 50 had another stairwell on the opposite side of the floor, through another hallway off the corner of your current one. Sneakers pounded too close for comfort as you shoved the door open and made a break for it down another corridor labyrinth.

If you made it out of this alive, you swore you’d kill Tony’s architect yourself. 

“You can’t hide forever, lisitsa!” Bucky’s voice rang out from the stairwell as you rounded the corner, sprinting through more identical-looking hallways. Another corner later and the glowing red EXIT sign appeared above the next stairwell. A beacon of hope, almost. Relieved, you head straight for it, body and mind and soul pushing against the burning and the gasping for air. You were right there, hand outstretched, fingertips grasping the metal bar–

It felt like a car crash. 

Not an accident or fender bender. No, it felt like seventy miles an hour meets a tree with no intent of moving. That split-second feeling where your stomach drops and you can all but brace for the deadly impact destined for you to meet.

Time stopped as you were yanked backwards. Cold, slick metal wrapped around your ankle, bloody hand print smearing some poor bastard’s DNA all over your calf as your body fell to the ground. Hard. Your jaw clenched as your chin slammed into the linoleum. Teeth ground into your tongue as copper flooded your tastebuds. Your lungs, with little wind left in them, gasped for oxygen. Another scream rising in your throat became stuck in your vocal cords. 

Bucky whipped you around as you struggled to free your lower half. You landed on your shoulder, head bouncing against the floor and teary eyes struggled to stay open and endure the pain. He straddled your form, the weight crashing down on your bones and organs. A sharp inhale impaled your chest as you met Bucky’s darkened eyes, then; the familiar steel blue replaced entirely with dilated, unhinged pupils. 

It was the first time you got a good look at his face. His face is speckled with blood spatter and several bruises spread across his cheek down his neck. Two black eyes, a bloody nose– one you hoped was his– and a broken lip. The bloodied collar of his shirt only aided in the mess of his hair. His soft, chocolate strands stuck in mats to his neck and temples with sweat and blood. 

Out of sheer habit, because he looked like your Bucky, you couldn’t help but reach a hand out to him. A soft plea for the man behind his eyes, one you begged everything holy was still there. He held your stare, face contorting into unrecognizable emotions. Tears brimmed your eyes as your hand stretched further, sobs escaping as your fingers inched closer and closer to his battered face.

“Bucky, it’s me–”

Your appeal transformed into a shriek, quickly snuffed out as Bucky wrapped his crimson-spattered metal hand around your throat. You choked, sputtering lost pleas as your hands flew to your neck. Fingernails flailed in futile attempts to claw off the weapons-grade titanium. 

“You’re done running, khitraya suka,” Bucky’s hot breath fanned your face as he leaned in. His mouth grazed your jaw, titanium hand on your throat flexing with each syllable. He slowly made his way down your neck, pushing harder into your chest with his forearm. A heavy growl. His grip only tightened as you tried to knee him in the groin, picking you up by your neck and slamming you down again.

Stars circled your blurred vision, eyes rolling back into your head. The corridor, the lights, everything split into two.

“You owe me for my victory, lisitsa,” Bucky’s husky whisper resonated in your ear as he licked the side of your face, his hot, wet mouth against your tear-stained cheek. As his free hand moved to the waistband of your shorts, another surge of panic washed through you. You tried to sputter a weak cry from your closed-off throat, blood turning cold, another scream building and building in your chest and aching for release. 

“You owe me what’s mine –!” 

BANG!

Something from somewhere all of a sudden. The object slammed into Bucky, throwing him off of you and spilling across the floor. 

Finally, your lungs lunged at the chance for air, leaving you a heaving, choking, coughing mess. Spitting at the ground as you made your way shakily to your hands and knees, a freed hand traveling to rub the fresh strangulation bruises forming on the column of your stiff neck. 

“Get the fuck off her, Bucky!” 

Steve.

As your vision cleared, the shield whizzed past you as it ricocheted back into Steve’s open arms. Bucky groaned, low and guttural, but only for a moment is he subdued. Slowly, he rose, like smoke from extinguished ashes, looking to his metal vice. A large dent adorned the weathered, bloodied appendage where his bicep met his shoulder. He then turned his attention to Steve, baring his teeth, anger coursing through him as he immediately disregarded you. His sights set on a new target, launching himself at Steve without a beat lost.

Steve grunted as Bucky’s metal fist met the vibranium shield with a deafening clang. Steve gritted his teeth and pushed back, managing to break Bucky’s attack and aim a kick for his stomach.

“Go! I got him!” Steve yelled to you through a gasp as Bucky countered with his own swipe at Steve’s middle. Your body stayed put, relishing in the ability to fucking breathe again, also painfully aware how screwed you’d be if you didn’t escape as you had the chance. You willed yourself to move, to run and to keep going, to no avail. As Steve landed a blow to Bucky, his eyes met yours once more. His baby blues, pained and tired, begged for you to listen to him for once in your life. 

“Now!”

The strain in Steve’s voice seemed to ignite a fire underneath you. Pushing yourself up, you willed your legs to carry you to the exit. Bloody shoe prints tracked your route as you slammed through the doorway. You cursed, knowing they’ll give away which way you’d go, knowing your life matters more than a twenty-dollar pair of sneakers. Kicking them off, throwing the pair down the exit, praying they made it far enough Bucky wouldn’t know any better. 

You threw yourself up the stars, tremors and pain afflicting every limb as the cold concrete seeped in through your socks in each step. The railing helped as you heaved yourself forward with help from the railing. Sweaty palms slipped on the bars, but your grip only grew tighter. 

You didn’t know how you, or your body, was able to do it, making it up seven more flights of stairs before your knees buckled on level 57. Heaving the door open and slamming it shut, you stumbled out into the new hallway. You hadn’t visited that level before. Something Steve and the others– especially Doctor Banner– said was “just a business floor.”

The sign on the wall directing to ‘SAFELAB’ said otherwise. Nothing in the Tower was “just business.” 

What you did know was that every SAFELAB on every floor was located in the same, far-east hallway. 

Wiping the sweat from your temple, you turned right, jogging down the darkened, emptied-out hallway. It felt like the apocalypse. No sign of anybody else. Doors left ajar, papers and bags and other employee memorabilia scattered throughout abandoned offices and cubicles. You hoped everyone was able to make it out, at least.

Part of you didn’t hope for much, though. 

The door to the lab came into view as you rounded the last corner. The door was still locked, the lab inside sterile and untouched. A sigh of relief escaped you. Holding your palm to the door’s scanner, it answered your prayers in a soft beep and whir, miraculously allowing you in. 

You maneuvered through the multiple security doors, four in total, crouching low once you managed to slip into the lab itself. The gigantic window at the front of the labspace spared no room for you to hide easily, but you had zero room to complain about it. It was your only option, after all.

Well, besides the roof. 

Crouched, you snuck your way around the counters and various equipment to one of the supply closets. The furthest corner from the entrance. You scoured through drawers and cupboards for some sort of weaponry; the most you could find was a new scalpel out of a box of extras. 

You closed in on the supply closet, reaching up and grasping the handle, turning it slowly to prevent any squeaks from the inner hinge. A tear glided down your cheek in relief. You hadn’t realized you started crying. Again. 

The door swung open. It greeted you mostly empty, deep enough for you to cram your body into. Crawling inside, bones and limbs contorted into the most comfortable position you could manage. You pinched the edges of the doors to close them as best as you can, accepting they, in fact, couldn’t close all the way from the inside. A curse under your breath, the sliver of dim light through the crack cast onto your face. Once settled, you crumpled your damp t-shirt up from the collar and shoved the fabric into your mouth. Teeth and tongue greeted sweaty cotton and hints of copper as you bit down on the collar, covering your mouth with a free hand. 

At last, after Gods knew how long it had been since you ceased moving, a silenced sob heaved out of your chest. Tremors only worsened as your nervous system rode out the fumes of its adrenaline high and flight mode instincts. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, mixing with snot further down your face, slipping down to your neck and leaving behind streaked paths in the bloodied, hand-printed bruises adorned on your flesh. The pain from the near-strangulation you suffered broke through the shock and endorphins that were keeping you sane until then. You knew, though, you couldn’t break down. Not yet. Not until you saw Natasha or Steve or someone you trusted face-to-face. 

You started counting your breaths. Mind racing, thoughts traveling near sonic speeds through your mind carrying questions at how the hell it all happened.

You thought for sure S.H.I.E.L.D. was secure, especially after the ordeal with Bucky, Steve, and the whole ‘defeating HYDRA’ ordeal from a few years back. Hell, you thought it was safer than taking the FBI’s recon mission that was offered to you before being referred to Tony himself. Your mind raced, what-ifs and endless possibilities flashing across your eyes like a snuff film. You hoped Steve was okay. You hoped Natasha was on her way to your location any second. You hoped Sam was safe and made it out okay. You hoped Bucky –

Bucky. 

Christ, you hadn’t even stopped to think about how the hell everything happened to him. He’d been doing so well in his recovery program. Steve was even telling you about it that same morning, bragging about how well Bucky was doing, how much progress he was making, how soon they’d finally be able to move in together once Doctor Banner cleared him. Another sob overtook you. How you’d never seen him like that before, the feeling of his titanium arm slowly crushing your windpipe, the weight of his entire body crushing your internal organs as he’d held you down. The things he’d said. You tried to wrap your head around what he’d said, what he was going to do–

Crashing followed by shattering glass emitted a muffled yelp from you as your blood ran cold. Another wave of tears flooded out of your burning eyes, chest heaving unevenly. Your hand clamped even tighter over your mouth as teeth bit into the salty fabric of your shirt, drying up any more moisture your mouth was grateful to finally have.

BANG! Then another. Then more in rapid succession. Shattering, crashing, shattering, silence. The final blow to the security doors sounded from inside the lab itself. Your breath hitched and bile began bubbling in your stomach, reaching the back of your throat and across your tongue. You forced yourself to swallow the acid, listening intently to the crunch of sneakers on shattered glass.

He’d found you. 

“Lisitsaaa,” Bucky drawled, his voice dropped to a primally low octave. Lower than before. You almost couldn’t make out the words, a mixture of growled mumblings of English and Russian. Knees folded closer to your chest, you tightened your grip on the handle of the scalpel. Bucky’s footsteps were slow, methodical, predatorial. 

His heavy steps inched closer, each followed by a pause, then sudden crashing of lab equipment and smashing of drawers. More glass and metal slammed to the ground and walls after each pause. He sounded feet away. Then inches. 

Your breathing stopped as the sliver of light clouded over. The lump in your throat threatened more puke to rise as you dared to peer up through the crack, heart dropping like a dead weight to your stomach as your eyes fell on freshly bloodied sneakers. A stifled scream in your lungs choked you. You refused to think about whose blood that was.

Eyes darted back up. You could see Bucky’s blurred features clouded in shadows. The only light visible, then, was the glint from his wicked smile. Bloodied teeth shone as he licked his lips hungrily, a predator finally cornering its prey. 

Ever so slowly he crouched, shoving his face closer into the seam in the door. Tears and snot continued to stream down your face, your body hyperventilating as you forced yourself to look into his eyes. There was nothing else you could do. Nothing else to say, to cry about. There was nowhere left to run. He got you. 

“There you are, moy priz,” Bucky hissed before reaching through and throwing the doors open, heavy hands leaving imprints in the flimsy metal. Frozen, your fist was still closed around the scalpel, your muscles tensed as joints locked in place. His evil eyes scanned your body greedily, looking for which cut of meat to divulge in first. His gaze stopped at your fist and he chuckled, tisking in a disappointed tone. 

“Oh, glupaya pizda,” Bucky shook his head, amused at your meager choice of weaponry. Compared to him, you might as well have been waving a white flag. His smile only grew, tongue jutting out to lick his lips. Specks of blood coated the sides of his cheeks and edges of his mouth, smeared about from ear to ear with the back of his hand.

“Come with me and they might consider your life, lisitsa–”

You sprung into him, swinging your arm, landing the scalpel into the middle of his flesh hand, impaling straight through it. In an instant, blood spewed from the impact. Bucky screamed out in pain, a slew of mixed language curses reverberating in your skull. You scrambled out of your hiding place, bashing him with a balled fist to the face as you tumbled out and onto your feet, sprinting to the lab’s only exit. Freedom was only an arm’s length away when an overturned stool tripped you. The impact didn’t hurt near as much as the millions of shattered glass bits shredded cut into your skin, your hands and knees and arms and face littered as blood smeared under you and across the once-sterile white floors. You cried out, writhing around. Battered and bloodied, struggling to rise and run again despite the searing pain in your ankle.

Before you could form your next thought, a rough hand snatched your scalp and dragged you up by your hair. You uttered a panicked scream as Bucky hoisted you to eye level, snarling like a rabid dog as he shook you hard.

“I thought you were smarter than that, lisitsa,” he sneered, “but I was wrong.”

He hurled you back onto the floor, his bloodied, titanium fist still gripping your hair, dragging you over to one of the disheveled lab tables. More glass shredded your skin, blood and sweat and tears mixing and pouring over your face and hands and body. With ease and a free hand, he swiped the rest of the contents off another counter; beakers and burners crashed to the floor. His grip tightened as he threw you up onto the stainless steel counter, the dead weight of your body banging onto the table, landing you hard on your back. Eardrums rang into your skull and jaw, radiating down your spine and out your limbs. Your hands slip against the smooth metal from the blood, futile attempts to grab onto something, anything. You groaned and huffed excess sobs. The pain, unbearable; the fear, unimaginable. 

Bucky hoisted himself onto the table, landing on top of your broken body, his knee hitting your spine and knocking your last breath out of you. Straddling you, his thick thighs bulged through tattered sweatpants, squeezing into your rib cage. He looped another fist into your hair, raising your head and slamming it down. The side of your face smushed into the steel table, smearing around more blood as he did it again. And again. The cartilage in your nose cracked and throbbing pain radiated into your eyes, your skull. Warmth from the break and the blood poured over your face. The pain, dulling into numbness as you began to fade in and out of consciousness.

Your vision started to blur and blacken, stars and specks orbiting around Bucky like a halo of hallucination. Your body, finally surrendering to him. No fight left. Any strength you could have mustered, funneled into staying awake, proved useless. 

A new sound, then: ripping.

You didn’t have to look to witness Bucky unrelentingly tear your t-shirt away from your body, training his eyes on your open form. Bruised skin exposed to cool air, your chest still momentarily held together by your sports bra. He made quick work of it next, the nylon snapping off in one swipe, sending goosebumps racing down your spine. 

Ice-cold titanium fingers untangled from your matted hair and made their way from your nape, to the small of your back, to the waistband of your gym shorts. Muscles tensed as you felt each digit wrap almost leisurely onto the elastic. He tore them away swiftly, baring the rest of you and your skin to him. A growl, one of pleasure, vibrated into you from him, emitted he palmed the skin of your ass. His fingers journeyed languidly in a slow trail from your back to your core. You squirmed, wasting the last of your strength, a hopeless attempt to get away one last time. 

A crack came across your face. Flesh against flesh, he slapped you. A punishment. A command for obedience. Your body fell limp. Breathing raggedly and gagging on blood and spit, you shuddered as he took your wrists and tied them together with your t-shirt. 

Satisfied, his prey finally submitting, Bucky paused, panting as he leaned down to you. He wet his lips before speaking, gruff words slurred against your ringing eardrum. As he spoke, cold metal grazed your entrance, a threat of what was to come. 

“Now, I get to take what’s mine.”

Your screams echoed as the world fell dark.

[french-unknown]

Hiii!!!

Can you please write something about a reader who wants to get self-improved?

What I am trying to say is, the reader is kinda of lazy and all they do is sleep, eat, and read. Neglecting studies and being unproductive.

But they want to change. They tried so many times, but they became their previous self again after 2 or 3 days.

Can you please write something like Law, Shanks, Mihawk, and Ace to help them to become their best self?

Like you know motivational and inspiring thing...

I don't know if you can understand this. English is not my mother language. So it's so hard to explain. Sorry about that.

Thank you so much for writing.

With lots of love...❤️❤️❤️

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: law, shanks, mihawk, ace 𝐂/𝐖: fluff 𝐀/𝐍: Hi! Thank you very much for appreciating what I wrote and don't worry about your request, I understood. I hope you will like it and have a nice day! (｡◝‿◜｡) 𝐖/𝐂: 1.2k +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐋𝐀𝐖

✧ You had been locked in your room for several weeks and you didn't want to come out. You didn't want to see people. You didn't want to listen to them. You didn't want to talk to them.

✧ You just wanted to spend your days alone in your blankets reading quietly with Law visiting in the evening to sleep.

✧ Everyone outside, even your friends, bored you: their conversations didn't interest you and their reactions annoyed you. Besides, you didn't see what you could talk to them about and, even when you tried, you were cut off. this invisibilization irritated you so much that you ended up not saying a word, plunging yourself even deeper into your boredom, and no longer coming.

✧ You had tried several times to come back to them but your interactions turned on you more and more until the arrival of the Straw Hats who had finished isolating you for good.

Their captain who shouted everywhere and ruined your peace. Their swordsman who turned on his heel in the middle of your sentence when you tried to talk to him. Or their navigator who had cut you off to call out to Shachi who was passing behind you with his winnings from his bets with the crew.

✧ You hadn't left your room since.

✧ Law didn't see your isolation in a good light so, given that you were only reading and your reading stock was dwindling, he mentioned the very well-stocked library of the Straw Hats. Innocently, of course.

✧ He arranged for the Straw Hats to start a party before you could get out. Not wanting to get stuck in the hubbub on your way back to your room, you decided to stay reading in the Sunny Library until the crowd dispersed. Law sent Robin to the library to read her book.

✧ You came home the next morning to talk to Law about the archaeologist who was nice and whose invitation you thought you would accept to meet up to read together. He just calmy replied: “Cool” even though he was very satisfied inside to see you regaining confidence in socialization.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

✧ You didn't have the motivation to do anything to advance your goals. You always pushed everything aside with an "I'll do it later" to continue reading until you found yourself in the evening and said to yourself "It's too late to start, I'll do it tomorrow".

✧ It was like this every day.

✧ One morning, Shanks came into your room humming after you went back. He approached you under your suspicious gaze and took your book from your hands before going to the window and casually throwing your book into the water over his shoulder.

You could have ripped him alive just for that.

✧ However, he took out an old crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket with a quill already inked on it and wrote your objective in large letters at the top of the page. Then he spent the rest of the morning with you on the bed figuring out all the steps to take before reaching your goal. He embellished the page with little drawings here and there to make it more “cool”.

✧ He called himself "the Emperor of the to-do list" throughout.

✧ The next day, you did one of the tasks on the list because it didn't take much time / effort and you could do it from your bed. You simply checked it off and, when Shanks came back in the evening, you showed him.

✧ Every time you checked a box, he showered you with a shower of congratulations as well as special drinking parties to celebrate your accomplishment.

✧ The whole crew also ended up getting involved and they all encouraged you in their own way.

𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊

✧ He was genuinely starting to worry about you: you didn't want to go out anymore and it had been weeks since you had seen the light of day.

No matter what he does, you always return to your bed after stocking up on food in the middle of the night in the castle kitchen. You stay all day under your covers. You would refuse his invitations every time he offered to accompany him outside the castle or during his missions outside Kuraigana. You always justified that you were more comfortable in your bed and that you didn't see the point in going out.

✧ He ironically thought that he was the one called a vampire.

✧ Finally, he got fed up. He waited for you in the kitchen during the night and started talking to you for a long time. You find his behavior quite strange but you keep talking, hoping that he will make fewer remarks to you later about the fact that you always stay locked in your bedroom.

However, when you opened the door to your room to finally snuggle into your soft pillows and blankets, you noticed that your bed was gone. Your bed was missing. You tried all the rooms in the castle but all the beds had disappeared. As well as all the pillows and blankets. There were none left in the entire castle.

✧ He then guided you towards Hitsugibune where his usual seat had been replaced by your blankets and pillows. You were shocked while he gave you the choice between staying on the island and sleeping on the cold stone floor or boarding with him and sleeping in comfortable bedding.

After toying with the idea of sleeping on the cold castle floor just to annoy him, you finally agree to go on his boat.

✧ After a few weeks of traveling, you realize that getting out of bed was the best solution because your days were no longer an endless blur. They no longer paraded at full speed without your having the slightest memory of them.

𝐀𝐂𝐄

✧ You wanted to start sport but you couldn't stay regular.

✧ You could tell yourself all the benefits it would give you (post-session well-being with endorphins, being more active in everyday life, more energy etc.) but you couldn't do it. Even motivational phrases like “the hardest part is to begin!” only made you feel even more depressed when you found yourself hopelessly in sportswear in your bed.

✧ You motivated yourself to do a week then you missed a session because you had aches. And another because you were tired. Then another one because you were lazy and, at rhis point, it wouldn't make a difference.

And you always ended up stopping.

✧ But Ace wanted to help you so he offered to accompany him on his next mission. You never refused to spend more time with him so you agreed.

✧ However, this trip as a couple was very different from the previous ones where you made all your trips at sea with his striker and those on land with the island's transport.

✧ This time, you did everything by yourself.

You paddled on the Grand Line while Ace helped you while telling you about his fights with Sea Kings. You hiked from one town to another while arguing with your idiot lover who had forgotten to take money for transportation. You climbed mountains hand in hand with him as you chatted happily.

✧ Finally, you got a taste for these privileged private moments with your boyfriend. They provided you with enough physical exercises to satisfy you without constraining you and you no longer felt the duty to do these sessions alone.

Congratulations, you found my 3rd Easter Egg Here a ʚ 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 ɞ as a token of my admiration

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @xomingyu @dozcan123 @kai-wifey

[wosowrites]

Yellow Card Madness ( Katie McCabe x Reader )

Warnings: ⚠️Swearing⚠️

A/N: This one is just pure Katie madness. And also three posts today? Woah go me. It will not always be like this i’m just still on march break.

Prompt: Reader and Katie are dating, and reader gets her first red card ever, which leaves Katie slightly proud.

It was known to everyone that your girlfriend was the Yellow Card Queen, the Yellow Card Magnet, the Irish Messi, Katie McCard. All of these nicknames were used to describe her on a daily basis. Whereas people called you Arsenal’s Classic Canadian, the Softie, the Sunshine in the storm. You and Katie were polar opposites, but your relationship was perfect, and thrived on your differences. So when you got two consecutive yellows during a game against Chelsea, when you got your first red card ever, the gunners were in shock, and Katie couldn’t help but feel slightly proud of her girl.

Three and a half hours earlier:

You and Katie climbed out of thr gunners bus and entered Kingsmeadow stadium through the players entrance. You were walking behind Leah, and beside your girlfriend. Your face was stern, taking its firm look only during game days. Katie however, was smiling and lighthearted. Your rolls usually switched when you stepped onto the field.

You did your game day routine. Taped your wrist, put on the captains armband, walked onto the field and did a few keep ups. Soon enough, you were leading Arsenal out onto Kingsmeadow turf, Manu following behind you.

Today was just a season game, but because it was against Chelsea, every player on the pitch was aching for the win. Kickoff was quick, Arsenal started with the ball, and as the striker, you opted to pass the ball back to Leah, whose passes up field were spectacular. The game seemed to play out slowly, and when half time arrived, the score board still read 0-0.

"No card for you yet, Katie." You teased, tapping her ass lightly as you walked into the tunnel. "No goal for you yet." She teased back. "Hey! Not getting a card is good!" You said, pushing her slightly.

You both walked into the changing room, where Jonas gave a quick speech before giving you the floor. "Listen here, ladies. I know, we don’t need to win this game. The motivation is low. But we’re playing Chelsea right now! We’re playing class players, and we are class players. So let’s go out there, let’s score, let’s make more great saves. Manu, god I love you. Let’s make the same clearances, Leah, great work on the left. Let’s keep up with those runs down the line, Katie, Beth, amazing. as always. All you guys are doing great. we’re missing that goal. Let’s also avoid getting booked. C’mon Gunners!" You yell.

It was in the 56th minute that things went downhill. You were running down the middle and looked up to see Beth making a run. You passed the ball perfectly and then accelerated into the box. However, Beth got the ball taken by Millie Bright. You acted on instinct. Motivated by your own speech and wanting a goal so badly, you slid, clearly connecting with the ball before the lioness. But Millie tumbled to the ground, earning cries of "Ref! Come on!" From the Chelsea women and some of "No! That was nothing!" From the Gunners. But the second you were back on your feet, you saw the referee running towards you, brandishing a yellow card in the air. "Hey! Hey no way. Come on that was all ball!" You complained, walking towards the ref with your hands extended at your sides. "Don’t argue with me y/l/n." The referee said, writing your name on the back of the card.

Angry, and even more desperate for a goal, you stormed away from the referee. Leah patted you on the back, telling you it was okay, and Katie came over to you, looking at you with a wider smile that she ever had. "Don’t get booked guys." She mimicked.

You slapped her in the back of the head.

"Hey!" Katie yelled, positioning herself. "People are gonna edit that later."

Your luck came only ten minutes later due to Stina’s cross being blocked by Magda. Leah prepped herself for the corner and sent in the most perfectly weighted ball. You got the back of your head on it, flicking it into the back of the net.

"YEAH!!" You scream, running up to Leah and jumping in her arms. "YOUR PASSES GIRL!" You yelled, jumping down from her arms and shaking her slightly. Katie then came over, grabbing you and swinging you around, making you laugh. Your team congratulated you, hugged you and Jonas have you a big smile. You clapped at the Arsenal fans in the corner of the stadium who had been screaming loudly.

After that goal, Chelsea seemed to go rabid. They were constantly taking shots on Manu and the gunners couldn’t seem to get them out of their half. You played striker, but you were constantly at the edge of the box, trying to help clear incoming shots.

During a cross in by Erin Cuthbert, you jumped up in the air to clear the ball, your body smashing into Guro Reiten who was on the smaller side. The winter went tumbling to the ground, holding her side.

Your heart froze when you heard a whistle blow, and the angry ref stomping over to you. "No. No I did not do anything. We were both going for the ball and-" You started trying to defend yourself, Manu, Beth, Leah, Katie and Stina all hurrying towards the ref. "Get off my field." The referee simply said.

The woman showed a yellow, and then a red, pointing towards the players entrance.

Your face fell completely, feeling as though you had let down your team as captain. You knew a penalty would be awarded and that your team would have to play -1 for the next twenty minutes. You took off your One Love captains armband and handed it to Leah, who grabbed your head between her hands and tried to get you to hear her out. But her words seemed blurred, even when your girlfriend came up to you, you shrugged her off and walked into the changing room.

"FUCK!" you yelled, when you were in the locker room, smashing your fist into the wall in the least canadian way possible. You doubled over almost immediately, holding your knuckles in pain and groaning. A minute later, you heard the crowd erupt, knowing Chelsea had scored their penalty, probably thanks to Guro. You shrugged off your kit, jumping into the shower and washing yourself quickly, cursing your actions. Your first red card. You hated knowing you had one.

You heard the arsenal girls walk in the room as you pulled on your track suit. Your heart felt stiff, and for the first time ever, you were scared of being in the presence of your teammates. What if they were mad? You pulled out your phone and saw that the final score was 1-1. A tie. Better than a loss, so much worse than a win. You opened the door, your hair still dripping wet, your eyes red and your hands shaking.

You were met with every one of your teammates looking at you, but none of them looked mad. Katie was the first to come up to you, wrapping you in a hug and then pulling away to kiss you. "I’m so sorry guys I don’t know what happened. I just-" You started saying. "Don’t apologize." Beth started. "That ref was shit."

Murmurs of agreement echoed in the room, and Katie never left your side.

When you were home, and laying on Katie’s lap while watching The Last Of Us, Katie whispered something to you. "Can I tell you something weird?" She said, brushing her fingers through your hair. "Yeah." You answered, grazing your nails lazily on her bare thigh. "I was so proud of you when you got that red. Like… I was really turned on." Katie said. You let out one of your laughs, that sounded more like a bark. "You are so strange. But I love you." You told her, looking into her eyes. "I love you too."

[raisedbythetv89]

No, but like…FAMOUSLY not just in Buffy, but every universe that has spells and magic, real love CANNOT be manufactured or duplicated by magic. Only twisted obsession/infatuation like what we see in Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered.

But in “Something Blue” Buffy literally says once the spell is over and she’s talking to Willow “I loved him, we were betrothed” in a spell whose specifications had only to do with marriage which would only change them from being enemies to allies, which then allowed all their suppressed and ignored feelings to come to the surface that they could NOT act on before when the other person was supposed to bring about their death.

And I’m not saying full deep romantic season 7 and beyond love but they clearly CARE about each other and are extremely attracted to each other, in lust if you will…and must have been for a while. Giving SO MUCH credence to neither of them ever succeeding at killing each other because deep down they genuinely never wanted to. (yeah yeah plot armor but so much of the time when one of them got away it was really WAY too easy like they could have at least made it so both of them were always just BARELY getting away by the skin of their teeth instead of how many times one of them really just lets the other go after exchanging a few punches like 😹 they weren’t even TRYING after a while and to me “Something Blue” proves it’s because they do not want to kill each other because they are crushing SO HARD. Because also in season 2 when they make the truce literally FIVE MINUTES LATER Buffy leaves Spike alone with her mother while she’s on the phone. The amount of trust that demonstrates is actually insane especially when you combine it with the fact that Buffy doesn’t do a disinvite spell after he leaves town OR comes back in season 3 & 4. And plot armor or not, them never killing each other becomes part of the lore and informs the motivation of the characters because that’s just how fiction works! 🤷🏼‍♀️)

I mean just look at these two love sick idiots

I MEAN….Buffy’s face when her immortal and extremely durable vampire just gets tossed across the room?? She goes into slayer overdrive, swiftly taking care of the two demons she was fighting to run over and check on him exactly like she does so many times in season 7 because that’s her vampire!!!

We see them so happy and in love - literally the happiest we’ve ever seen Buffy and then the show tries to tell us “it wasn’t even nice” because what? They bickered?? You mean they actually SAID what was on their minds and talked about it and then comforted the other when they were sad instead of bottling it all up or being evasive of topics that would cause fights and Buffy would tell Spike lovingly to shut up when he was being dumb??? OH NO THE HORROR!!

And what really is the cherry on top for me is the “wind beneath my wings” bit because Buffy blames the spell while her body language and face clearly says it was NOT the spell, that was all Buffy. Which opens the door for us to question just how much was what we saw because of the spell’s influence vs the real Spike and Buffy just completely uninhibited by their status of an engaged couple???

Especially when this supposed engagement to a “bad boy” who was helpful to her watcher, extremely caring and loving towards her in front of all her friends and when xander says something mean spike is SO HURT and he’s like “that’s it! You’re off the usher list!” Like oh yes THE BIG BAD INDEED 💀 but Buffy claims being engaged to a Spike “gets her over her bad boy thing because it wasn’t even nice” ….. GURL you are running for the hills to seemingly “normal” captain cardboard because you LOVED being engaged to the slayer of slayers and that scared the absolute shit out of you and you were like I need to do something to convince myself I’m normal and not the kind of girl who would be into Spike IMMEDIATELY 💀 and then avoids Spike for the next several episodes while Spike is always asking where she is for Buffy to achieve maximum avoidant/suppression of feelings possible 😹😹😹

And the way Spike NEVER teases her about it afterwards like he did with the “wind beneath my wings” bit at the end of the episode to me is so telling of the importance it held for him too that he never used everything he must have learned about her at that time or never even taunted Riley about the fact that the Slayer was all over him when her and Riley had first started dating because let’s be honest that would be SUCH a Spike thing to do. Like???? They have been so into and conflicted about each other for a LONGGG time and I honestly cannot be convinced otherwise 😹

[nonpracticinghumanbeing]

Revenge is the safe space is such a ridiculous take that I have to get it out of my system or I will go insane.

Revenge is a ship whose captain is utterly useless. He gets the ship beached because he forgets someone should be steering it. He loses the hostages AND gets himself caught by the natives who only let him go because they realize he poses no threat (which is super telling given their history with white colonizers). In the Republic he immediately gets himself in trouble with Jackie and it's only Blackbeard's reputation that saves him. He walks straight into Geraldo's trap and almost gets killed, only to be rescued by Edward again. He is too much into Ed and too fucking polite to question Jack's motives until it's way too late, thus putting all of his crew in harm's way.

Revenge is a ship whose captain inspires zero confidence in his crew. They all know he's terrible at being a pirate and they keep saying he will probably get them all killed. He admits he has no idea what to do, which can't be great for the crew's morale - and on a ship the crew's willingness to carry out orders without hesitation may be a matter of life and death. He fucking treats his whims and fancies as more important than the crew's well-being and gets annoyed when the Swede gets scurvy after wasting all their oranges on a cake. And he doesn't even see it was his mistake.

And it's not even like the crew get space to be themselves in return either. Stede is great at talking about how they can be themselves on the Revenge, but in reality, they either get scolded when they don't do what he would like them to do or he doesn't notice their feelings at all because he's too preoccupied with his own bullshit. He tells them to enjoy their vacation however they like and then immediately scolds Wee John and the Swede for rough and tumbling because it's not how he would like them to behave. He doesn't notice Lucius is upset after being locked by Jim because he's too annoyed at not having his scribe to take down his musings. He doesn't notice how upset Jim is about their trip to St. Augustine because he's too excited about treasure hunting with Edward.

So let me ask: who exactly is safe on the Revenge? For all his terrible management style, Izzy would at least make sure the ship was stocked properly and had all stations manned at all times. I would 100% prefer Izzy to be my captain than Stede because Izzy would at least keep me as safe as it's possible for a pirate to be - and all he really wanted in return was discipline which is the most basic thing on a properly run ship.

So yeah, Izzy needs to change and learn to be more accepting, but Stede needs to learn EVERYTHING, from being a sailor to fucking noticing his crew's mood.

On a more personal note: I'm truly perplexed how many people think safe space simply means a space where one can talk about their feelings without being judged. It is that, sure, but that is step two. Step one is making sure the space is safe from the outsiders. It's taking up arms and carving this place out in a hostile world and then standing one's ground and defending it. Izzy stopped on step one and refuses to go any further. But Stede would like to have step two without ever taking step one and that’s not how the world works.

[meraki-yao]

Okay I haven't watched the MCU in a while and honestly at this point all I care about is Bucky, Wanda, Loki and maybe Shangchi but I watched a summary of the baby Starlord episode and the Captain Carter episode of the new What-if (not really interested in watching the whole thing but Bucky's in it so yeah) and as a Cap girl who loves CATWS so much that it's one of my all-time favourite movie, what Marvel's doing to the whole Steve-Bucky-Peggy (that I've been having issues with since Endgame) is driving me insanely frustrated.

I fucking HATE it when people more or less lessen or ruin what was originally so well-written and performed in the original that serves to drive the character that led to them being so well loved

Like, stucky doesn't need to be queer romantic to be significant. (And I'm saying this as a Stucky shipper whose whole exposure to AO3 and Tumblr started with Stucky) It is a significant, important and heavy relationship REGARDLESS if it's platonic or romantic. Erasing that and forcefully making it Steggy doesn't work, drives the og audience away from Steggy and frankly, it's kind of homophobic

Also it's incredibly unfair that Steve's significance to Bucky remains while vice versa isn't, even though THAT'S ONE OF THE TWO DRIVING MOTIVATIONS OF ALL OF STEVE'S ACTIONS IN CACW. Are you really trying to convince me that a bond so deep that they've been inseparable all their lives since they were kids and well into their adulthood, is less significant, or is effective as a memory trigger (and I fucking studied the basic of memory recall) than the significant shorter Steggy romance? What the fuck????

I almost want to write a whole essay on the Steve-Bucky-Peggy relationship, but I currently have enough writing tasks (fics, emails, letters, essays) on my plate. I'll see if I wanna come back to it later.

[stupidtowrite]

Birthday Girl (1) Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Joane)

Misa overcomes a past relationship while facing encounters and disagreements with a birthday girl

This fic was saved for a long time and now, in this moment of boredom, I decided to post it with some modifications to see if it would be better and now it seems to have met my expectations. I hope you like it :)

Warnings: Blood

It was the UEFA Women’s Nations League final Misa was sitting in her cubicle, biting her nails and shaking her left leg. She only remembers Alexia starting some motivational speech, routine before the games, before getting lost in the deafening noise of last night. That's all Misa could think about today, the sound of breaking glass, the angry screams at 1am and the loud music in her neighbor's apartment. Okay, that was part of her routine too, but not anymore.

The final scream was heard, at the same time that Misa managed to pull out a very deep part of her nail and ended up seeing unwanted blood running down her fingers. Without looking around, Misa runs towards the locker room bathroom, and tears well up in her eyes before the sink tap has even been turned on.

The blood mixes with the water from the tap, but Misa's tears make marks on her face, as if they are not going to leave anytime soon and the goalkeeper increasingly finds herself lost amidst the sobs that mix with the noise of the tap. . The sobs only stopped when the Spaniard heard the voice of the team captain, she quickly dried her tears with the back of her hands and wiped her wound, then applying a bandage that she had found lost there.

— Misa, there you are, are you okay?

— Yes Alexia is, don't worry — she replied to the goalkeeper, while rubbing her nose with the back of her right hand. — We're going to win this game, aren't we? — Misa continued as she forced a smile.

The captain wanted to find out what was wrong with her friend, she knew that Misa had been going through a turbulent period recently, but it seemed like the powder keg had finally exploded, whatever that meant for the goalkeeper. Unfortunately, there was no time for questions at that moment.

It was a calm game, as it usually was, Spain beat France 3-1 and Misa was grateful all the time for the cooperative team she was part of. Even with everything going well on the field, she still felt frustrated, she felt that her performance wasn't good enough. She ignored the parties on the field and ran, almost sobbing, to the locker room, packing her things and going to the only place that would make her feel less worse at that moment.

Leila's gym is closed on Sundays, but Misa is a long-time friend who makes it worth making an exception on some weekends, and it's a good thing the goalkeeper has a friend like Leila, who allows her to destroy her punching bag at 9 p.m. of a Sunday.

— Take it easy, I don't want to have to buy another one of these because of you. — Jokes the brunette.

— Forgive me, it was not my intention. — She replied to the goalkeeper, taking off her boxing gloves and throwing them on the floor, before sitting on the tatami mat and placing her head between her knees.

Leila didn't know what to say, so she sat next to her friend while rubbing circles on the goalkeeper's back while looking at her with a look of compassion that Misa noticed when she lifted her head and looked at her friend with eyes full of water.

Misa collapsed into Leila's arms, in a way the brunette had never seen before, the goalkeeper looked vulnerable in a way she had never seen before, she knew that her friend had to train better to express her feelings and Leila was grateful to be the one. person that Misa's heart had chosen for this, but at the same time, she missed the tough and confident Misa, now she seemed broken like an old mirror, whose pieces were scattered all over the room, and it would take time to put it all back together back.

— She's a son of a bitch, you know that, right? — Leila said, trying to break the ice.

— Don't talk about her like that. — Misa replied, with a tearful smile on her lips.

— Why not ? Look what she did to you Misa, you deserve better than that, I know you do.

— I don't know, my feelings are so confused.

— Misa, he broke your trust once again, not only that but, look what she did to you, she broke you completely, she made you forget what you were like before, that confident and playful woman who always cared about her . Misa you don't deserve her, you gave her everything she needs and how did she repay you?

Misa didn't respond, she just hugged her friend tightly, it often seemed like Leila was the only woman in her life, the only one that Misa cared about, and the goalkeeper was sorry to disappoint the brunette, even if she's right Misa can't find comfort In the current position her relationship is in, she needs to do something, even if it's what Leila feared most.

— Can I stay here today?

— Any time you want

—------------------------------------------------- --------------------------

Misa's phone rings all morning, but she doesn't answer, Leila was next to her in bed and she had already sent a message to all of Misa's teammates letting them know that she was fine, there would be no reason for the goalkeeper to answer the phone at that time.

The goalkeeper spends the day off with her friend, she would not like to return to the scene of destruction that was left in her apartment last night, she wanted, even if just for a day, to forget everything that had happened. Forget about that girl who one day she thought was the girl of her dreams. So they spent the whole day doing absolutely nothing in Leila's apartment, the only time they got up was to go to the kitchen and prepare a meal, which didn't last more than 30 minutes so they could make better use of bed.

As Misa wanted this day to last forever, she didn't want to go back to reality, even though she loved it on the field, her anxiety still scared the members of her own body, making them stiffer and her performance worse.

— Misa, let's take a break, okay? — Alexia shouted outside the penalty area, where she was training with Misa.

Alexia was worried about her friend, even though she doesn't know all the details of the situation, she notices how anxious Misa is when she is training, or before a game, when her legs shake and she bites her nails.

— You know you can always talk to me, don't you? We are very worried about you Misa. — Alexia asked during the training break.

— I'm fine Alexia, there's no need to worry. — Misa replied.

They both knew it was a lie and Alexia didn't know how to continue the conversation.

— I never got to meet her, you know, but I remember you two at the cup final and…

— Alexia, I'm fine, I already told you. — Replied the goalkeeper while taking off her gloves, she didn't want to remember that now, or ever. — We're done training for today, aren't we?

Upon leaving the training center, Misa went to her own house, she needed to clean up the mess, she had a big game in the next few days, she couldn't occupy her mind with all her problems and the best way to do that is to clean the your apartment. Well, she thought it would be, until she found her ex-girlfriend's clothes on the bed.

Misa hated herself so much, for still loving her, for thinking that this time it would be different, as she always promised, she hated herself for sitting on the bed in one of her dresses, just the one in which she asked her to be her girlfriend, she felt He hated it enough to consider sending a message to her to spend the night there, even after everything. Even after the pieces of the glass cup that had been on the floor since seven in the morning.

Misa tried to stop crying and wiped her swollen eyes on the dress that was at her side, as she thought about her next actions, with the full knowledge that she would regret it later.

Misa I have training tomorrow from 9am until 12pm, you can come at this time to pick up your things and leave your key on the kitchen table.

[bonefall]

Better Bones Profile: Shredtail

[ID: A version of Shredtail from Warriors. He is a thick, spiky-furred, solid brown cat with prickly whiskers, a tattered white tail, and red scars. He is holding a spear with white and yellow twine.]

A guy whose mate and kits got eaten by a pig and he was VERY normal about it. He made a very normal weapon for the occasion. He normally hunted down a gigantic white boar for the rest of his life and revolutionized hog hunting in ThunderClan.

Shredtail didn't only target the grand boar Deadfrost; he aimed for any hog with a fleck of white on its body. If he would have no bloodline, then neither would it.

His obsessive quest for vengeance to kill Deadfrost eventually lead to him using a clanmate as bait to slaughter the beast. He died with his spear snapped and jammed in two places within the hog's hide, taking down his old foe with him.

Alignment: Dark Forest, ex-ThunderClan.

Time Period: Code Era

Relations: Unnamed mate, unnamed kits

His addition to the Dark Forest is Deadfrost's Hollow, a mazelike thicket where a giant white boar gives endless chase. With enough taunting, Deadfrost can break out of the hollow and terrorize the cats in the Dark Forest.

(more below the cut)

No more evil brown tabbies. Society has progressed passed the need for evil brown tabbies. Solid brown with white highlights.

Dark Forest cats need more types of motivations and new stories! Canon Shredtail has nothing written about him besides being very old, so I've decided to build something very relevant to Better Bones.

Shredtail was a huge innovator in hog hunting, and his techniques are still used to this day. He's only slightly younger than Cloudberry and Ryewhisker.

Traps, baiting, and spear-craft. Shredtail had a paw in creating or perfecting the creation of these things.

After leading his first successful boar hunt after the death of his family, he earned an Honor Title. His name went from Thornwhisker to Shredtail.

He is a highly valued member of Tigerstar's Dark Forest coalition, because of his innovative mind.

Shredtail was behind the technical plotting of Firestar's murder (but not the idea). It's nothing personal, but he wants Godhood just as much as his cohorts.

He's ruthless and dedicated. He believes strongly in the value of patience. His presence can be intense.

This is a warrior who is both huge and intelligent.

When asked about what he wants to do with godhood, his voice grows soft. "...I want to craft kittens."

The cross below the arrowhead is called a "lug." It's there to stop an impaled boar from pushing further down the shaft to get you. This was one of Shredtail's first improvements.

Yellow twine is for ThunderClan, white twine is for his mate.

The spear is something I'm going to refine the design of over time, this is a first draft.

Shredtail is based a little bit on Captain Ahab because I think that is very funny. The white boar, the obsession, the going down with it. Good stuff.

Today, weapons are typically only used for boars! Blades are considered a highly dishonorable battle tactic, and usually their claws are sharp enough to be as lethal as they want them to be. Shredtail tainted the association of spears forever.

He doesn't really do 'politics,' he just wants results and will work with anyone who can provide them.

So he doesn't care what Tigerstar actually wants or believes, if it means entry into StarClan.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Snowflame

(WARNING! This analysis contains C-C-C-COCAINE!)

Imagine this absurd concept: A supervillain cartel boss whose powers are fueled by him getting high off his own supply. Imagine too that this man wears a ridiculous outfit, and exists to be an anti-drug PSA that fails epically because he makes doing drugs look awesome. Now also imagine that everything about him is played completely straight without a single bit of acknowledgment of how absurd and campy the whole thing is.

That, my friends, is Snowflame.

The New Guardians is a comic series that would have been long forgotten as a crusty relic of the late 80s if not for giving the world the absolute coolest villain ever conceived. Snowflame has amassed a cult following the likes of which would make Jim Jones envious, due to the sheer absurdity of his existence and the pure unadulterated action movie villain charm of his dialogue. He’s perhaps one of the most minor villains out there with only a handful of appearances to his name, but he’s loved more than villains who’ve appeared twenty times as much as him.

I’m here to show you why.

Motivation/Goals: Snowflame is a cartel leader, and so he really wants to peddle drugs. Guess which drug is his forte. Go on, guess. And that’s really all there is to him! I need to reiterate that his threat as a cartel leader is played completely and utterly straight even as he spouts off the hammiest dialogue you’ve ever seen and literally gets a power up by snorting coke. This is the very core of his appeal, in that he is something genuinely terrifying and threatening but presented in a way only a comic book can pull off.

Of course, his true motivation is far, far simpler.

Look at this man. That is the face of a man who exists solely to snort illicit substances up his nose. He lives to be high. That is the extent of his desires, and all else is second to that simple goal. As long as he can ignite and continue to be the instrument of cocaine's will, he is satisfied.

Final Fate: Every single time Snowflame shows up, he dies. In his initial appearance, he apparently blows up, but three decades later, he makes his coke-fueled return to do battle with Catwoman, and despite inhaling enough cocaine to kill an elephant, a feat that should theoretically make him nigh invincible, he fucking dies.

...Or does he? Snowflame returns yet again in Peacemaker Tries Hard! Here he does battle with, you guessed it,

...who puts a poison dart frog in his cocaine and kills him.

Maybe. My theory is that Snowflame is the Kenny of the DC universe, and whenever some bastard kills him his coke-fueled powers just respawn him the next day.

Best Scene: While his fight against Catwoman is unfortunately lackluster as ordained by the writers (Selina is not lasting two seconds against Snowflame and his coke-fueled powers under realistic circumstances), it gave us one of the most gorgeous and badass panels ever made:

Really brings a tear to your eye, doesn’t it?

Best Quote: Yeah, there’s no fucking contest here, it’s this:

Final Thoughts & Score: I think I speak for all of us when I say Snowflame is one of the greatest fucking characters ever conceived.

Everything about him is a towering testament to what makes the medium of comic books great. The best villains tend to be the wildest and most out-there concepts, like a giant alien starfish that mind controls people, or a gay gorilla in love with a brain in a jar, or a giant racist communist egg. And don’t even get me started on the villains the Doom Patrol fights! Snowflame is the epitome of that; he is what would happen if Tony Montana was a DC supervillain by way of Captain Planet. He is absurd, over-the-top, and so goddamn cool.

It’s very obvious they were trying to do an anti-drug PSA here given the time the comic was released, but it absolutely falls flat on its face when the strawman constructed to be defeated so that the lesson might be dispersed is an absolute lunatic who dresses in colorful spandex and spouts off the most epic lines to ever come out of a villain’s mouth. Everything about him is absurd, but unlike something like Egg Fu he’s absurd in a tasteful and cool way rather than a shockingly racist way. Snowflame is just a dude who snorts cocaine to gain superpowers, it’s as simple as that and yet it’s also completely bonkers.

It’s genuinely unsurprising that this guy managed to get such a massive cult following that he spawned a fanmade webcomic and then got to pop up in the comics again over three decades after his supposed death. And it’s said cult following that has allowed him to pop up time and time again, even getting an appearance in the fourth season of Harley Quinn. I’m sure you can guess that I’m part of that massive cult fanbase, and I can only dream of writing a villain as incredible and grandiose as this drug-addled madman. Infinity/10 isn’t a real score, so he’ll have to settle for a 10/10 instead.

...Oh yeah, remember in the Egg Fu review when I said I wasn’t going to review Hemo-Goblin?

Psycho Analysis: Hemo-Goblin

This is gonna be really short, because there is so little to this guy. He is a one-shot, but boy what a fucking shot he is. Hemo-Goblin is a racist vampire created by South African white supremacists to give members of the New Guardians AIDS. You read that right. This is a racist AIDS vampire.

Now, unlike Egg Fu, who was a horrible racist caricature created from topical anti-communist sentiments of the time, Hemo-Goblin was seemingly created with better intentions. But you know what they say about intentions; the road to Hell is paved with good ones. I get wanting to do a commentary on the AIDS crisis, and I don’t think it’s out of the question for a superhero book to handle such a thing, but maybe having an AIDS-powered vampire give HIV to a Jamaican woman and a gay man isn’t the most tasteful and nuanced way to do this.

Oh, and by the end of his only appearance, he dies of AIDS in jail.

I’m not gonna lie, guys: I kinda love this stupid fucking creature. His weird design, the absurdity of his concept, and the awful execution of his premise makes him memorable for all the wrong reasons, but he’s memorable nonetheless. I think if Snowflame didn’t exist and wasn’t the coolest villain ever, more people would talk about the insanity that is Hemo-Goblin, though having a single appearance before dying and never appearing again doesn’t help his case much. Still, he’s just cazy enough to earn himself a 3.5/10, so he’s got that going for him.

[battlekilt]

Hey, hi there!

Would the neighborhood chappies, please, be a good sport and not complain about their favorite blorbo not being the "original character" of choice in said character's tag? Rex's tag really isn't the place to complain about that.

PS. Can we quit using "Feloni's OC" as some kind of pejorative on characters? George Lucas was an active part of the TCW inception and first several seasons. It is so very petty and vindictive and tells quite quickly the sour grapes behind the statement.

Yes, it is quite advantageous to be a main character, that's generally why there is so much media content about said character. It is also advantageous to being in close proximity to the adventures and stories of said main character—Anakin Skywalker and his trusty second-in-command, CAPTAIN REX.

If you read the background from TCW's start, George Lucas didn't want Obi-Wan to be the main character, just one of the main cast. Why? Because Star Wars is a SKYWALKER SAGA, not the Obi-Wan Magnum Opus. This would require that the story focus on Anakin and his battalion. It also meant that Obi-Wan's infamous Clone Commander could not and WOULD not be the Clone to get most of or even half the adventures.

At that time, this may shock you, but they didn't believe that they could write the character of Cody to be likable because every one already knew what Cody was going to end up doing in ROTS. Opinions now may be different, but this is part of the behind the scenes information.

Additionally, when TCW was created the chips were not a thing. It was very much that the Clones knew, in some form, about Order 66 and the plot. George Lucas and the creators of TCW did not want to further push for a character like Cody whose fate as a complicit part of the Jedi's slaughter to be a central focus. Rex, on the other hand, being a fresh and new character was a blank slate. They could really deepen his context and gave themselves the narrative room to do so.

The chips were introduced to simplify the motives behind the Clones after the creators realized how successful they were at endearing the Clones to the audience and humanizing them in the process.

After ROTS, Cody's fate was sealed for a long time. There was no intention of "redeeming" him or making him a man of regret as he was retconned later. Which, btw, I prefer Cody's redemption and self-doubt because it shows character growth and depth that was unavailable to him in the start.

George Lucas was the one who PUSHED for Rex's creation. Not Alpha-17 and he didn't want Cody to be the central Clone. He wanted a NEW clone character.

Rex is first and foremost a GL character. It was Lucas who said, "Make a new Clone."

Before anyone comes at me, btw: I DO LOVE CODY. He's my second favorite Clone and he's a little bug I love to poke and prod at. I sympathize. I want more Cody content now that his story has been retconned about him still fundamentally being a GOOD MAN.