#it’s the costumer service that broke him in reality

[bisexualmajima56]

I like how after they let Majima out of the hole they were like “this man hasn’t suffered enough put him in customer service.”

#majima goro #yakuzaposting #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #it’s the costumer service that broke him in reality

[simmonshvidberg3]

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[flashflashhundredyarddash]

Between You, Batman, and the Bat-Hound, I'll Take the Bat-Hound

A fic about Bruce Wayne deciding to adopt a service dog.

Read on ao3 here. Warning for major character death.

Bruce got Ace when Dick was ten. He’d started therapy when Dick was eight, but it had taken a while for it to occur to Bruce to get a service animal. Ace was a German Shepherd who had thrived in his emotional support training and had so far passed all his requirements with shining colors. Bruce and Dick had met Ace and a few other dogs in New York a month before their graduation and Dick had felt an immediate connection to the dog. Bruce had made a sizable donation to the program, paid for the full costs of the next 632 dogs that were going to be placed with owners for the next year, and a month later Bruce, Dick, and Alfred flew back to New York to pick up Ace and fly home.

For being only one year old, Ace was a dog who took his job very seriously. He had obediently followed Bruce from room to room, and didn’t wander off while they were in the Batcave, and instead sat patiently at Bruce’s feet.

Dick adored Ace, and it was obvious Ace loved Dick. Ace technically had his own bed, though Ace actually spent half his nights sleeping with Dick and half his nights curled up on Bruce’s bed. Dick always tried to come with Bruce for Ace’s walks and always made sure Ace got presents when the holidays rolled around. Ace’s favorite toy was a Batman plush Dick bought for him, and Ace carried it with him everywhere. Ace stoically endured it when a 12-year-old Dick dressed him in a Batman costume for Halloween. The picture of the dog was hung in the hallway leading to the kitchen, where other important family photos resided, with the caption “Ace the Bat-Hound” in Dick’s handwriting. Ace curled up with Dick whenever Dick had nightmares about snapping wires.

Bruce loved his serious and stoic dog.

Jason was wary of Ace when he first came to the manor. In his experience, most big dogs were threats he had to guard against. Bruce had combatted this by letting Jason come with him to the office one day while Ace was working, his bright red service vest on. By the end of the day, Jason was significantly more comfortable with the dog, and it wasn’t odd to see Jason holding one-sided conversations with Ace while ranting about his homework.

Ace took his responsibilities just as seriously when it came to Jason as he did when it came to Bruce and Dick. He spent most nights in Jason’s bedroom, who had horrible night terrors. When Jason was at school, Ace spent his time in Dick’s room, curled up on the bed with his Batman toy.

When Jason died, Ace stayed attached to Bruce’s side every minute that he could. When Bruce was on patrol, he paced the hallway in front of Jason’s locked door, and sometimes Alfred would cry into his fur. Ace spent more time in the Batcave, waiting for Bruce to come home, his head resting on his crossed paws. Alfred stayed alert for Ace to come get him when Bruce was injured (which was often).

Tim’s mother had claimed an allergy to dogs and cats, so Tim had grown up with neither. He knew, logically, that Bruce Wayne had a service dog, but he hadn’t been prepared for the reality of an animal that seemed to be what happened if Bruce Wayne’s personality had been put into the body of a dog. The first time Tim heard Bruce really laugh had been when Ace had tugged Tim to the floor while wrestling over a rope, and then had climbed onto Tim and whined apologetically. When Tim’s parents left on trips after only being home a few weeks and he collapsed into the bed in his spare bedroom at Wayne Manor that was slowly becoming his bedroom, Ace would lay with him, on top of Tim’s legs. Ace was too well-trained to jump in greeting, but his tail always wagged when he saw Tim again, and when Dick began to come around more Ace could barely contain himself from following his first kid around the manor.

David Cain had used dogs in his training of Cassandra. When Bruce had first seen the horrific bite scar in Cass’s upper arm, he’d gritted his teeth and within the week took down a burgeoning dog fighting ring.

He thought about doing what he did with Jason, letting Cass spend a few days with him and Ace to let Cass feel more comfortable, but Cass had had any and all indications of fear trained out of her, so Bruce couldn’t even be sure she was even afraid of them. Ace, clever as he was, seemed to pick up on Bruce’s tension, and was always on his best behavior when Cass was around. While Bruce was still mulling it over, he came across Cass and Ace in the library, Cass with her phone leaned up against Ace and watching a video while Ace sat quietly with his Batman toy, his tail wagging. Bruce quickly teamed up with Ace to teach him the ASL signs for his commands, and soon enough Cass started to take Ace with her whenever she left the manor to travel into Gotham, Ace wearing his vest with pride. Ace was a big hit with the Gotham City Adult Beginner’s Ballet Class, who were very careful to not distract Ace from his job.

Ace met Krypto once. Ace was unimpressed. Bruce shared half his sandwich with Ace as a reward.

The first time Red Hood was invited back to the Batcave, Ace had sniffed him, settled at his feet, and had refused to leave his side until Jason left. Ace once again took up vigil outside Jason’s door, so Alfred unlocked it for him. Alfred sat on the edge of Jason’s bed, and Ace had put his head in Alfred’s lap and closed his eyes while Alfred pet him. Ace went to retrieve his toy and then slept in Jason’s room for the first time in several years.

When Damian came to the manor, Ace was an old dog, with grey around his muzzle. Sometimes he had trouble going down the stairs. Bruce did not miss Damian’s quickly hidden interest in the dog, and had kneeled down to introduce them.

When Dick, Damian, and Alfred moved to the penthouse, Damian had quickly commandeered responsibility for taking care of Ace. He prepared specially made food for him, took him on his walk, and defaulted to talking about Ace whenever he could.

For Ace, the strangest part about moving back to the manor and seeing Bruce again for the first time in a year was learning to live with other animals. When Titus first arrived, he was small enough to walk underneath Ace, but he quickly grew into his oversized paws and soon the Great Dane dwarfed the German Shepherd. Titus loved Ace, and while Ace tried to act disinterested, he was clearly fond of Titus, too. For Halloween that year, Ace was once again forced into his Batman costume by his first kid while Titus happily played in his Robin costume. Alfred the cat was apparently supposed to be Catwoman. Ace grumpily sat by Bruce while Bruce sympathetically patted the old dog on the head and then he spent the night in Bruce’s bed when he came back from patrol.

When Duke joined the family, Ace was a quiet, old dog with drooping eyes. He couldn’t come out with Duke because he got tired easily, but whenever Duke visited his parents Ace would spend the rest of the day with him. He carried his Batman toy with him everywhere. He was a pleasant companion while Duke did homework, and didn’t seem to care when Duke blasted his music. In the afternoons, while everyone else was asleep, Ace came down with Duke to the Batcave and waited patiently for Duke to suit up for patrol, and was always there when Duke came back.

One day, Duke and Damian came home from school to find Steph, Cass, and Tim huddled at the base of the grand staircase, whispering. Duke and Damian shared a look before approaching them, and when Damian made a loud “tt” noise, Tim and Steph jumped and whirled around while Cass turned sedately. Damian stared at the trio judgmentally while they all looked at each other. Duke noticed Ace at their feet.

“Ace can’t make it up the stairs,” Tim finally said, looking unsettled. Duke’s attention immediately snapped to Ace, who was laying down just beside the first step.

“Can he walk at all?” Damian asked.

“He followed us from the living room,” Steph said, “but he was limping a little. And then he couldn’t make it up the stairs after us.”

Damian chewed his lip, uncharacteristically unsure. “We should call Father,” he finally said, “and bring his bed downstairs. And his toy.”

Steph veered back to the living room to fetch his toy while Cass and Duke went upstairs to get his bed out of Bruce’s room. Damian gently shepherded Ace to the kitchen with Alfred while Tim called Bruce, his voice quiet in the somber mood of the kitchen while the kids lingered there.

Bruce, who was at Wayne Enterprises, broke several traffic laws to get home within half an hour to meet his family in the kitchen. He crouched to check over Ace the same way Damian did, and Ace’s tail began to wag weakly as soon as he saw Bruce.

“He seems alright apart from the stairs,” Damian reported. “He ate and drank at his usual times, though he does appear more lethargic than usual.”

His other children and Alfred watched Bruce and Bruce ran his hand over Ace’s side, thinking.

“I’ll keep an eye on him tonight,” Bruce decided. “If he gets worse, I’ll take him to the vet. I’ll inform Dick, Jason, and Barbara to cover my patrol route.”

Duke shared an alarmed look with Cass. Bruce almost never passed up a night of patrol without much cajoling.

That night, Bruce moved his things downstairs and took up residence with Ace in one of the spare bedrooms on the first floor. Over the next month, visitors trickled in one at a time.

Dick seemed to be over every other day. He bought Ace a Robin plush that quickly settled beside his old and ragged Batman plush, right in the center of Bruce and Ace’s new bed. Dick brought his daughter, too, and she happily petted Ace and played with him while Ace bore it with the quiet dignity he always did.

Barbara visited, and she sat on the couch with Ace in the living room while she coded and he snored. At dinner, she dropped food underneath the table for him.

Titus spent his mornings while the kids were at school with Ace, cuddling with him and trying to play. Once, Ace had growled ferociously when Titus tried to take his Batman toy, and Damian had retreated to his room in tears after he’d pulled Titus away. Ace had apologised the next day by letting Titus play with the toy, though he was careful not to let it out of his sight.

After patrol one night Bruce came home and Ace was on his dog bed, asleep. Bruce couldn’t recall a time when Ace hadn’t either stayed up to wait for Bruce or gone to sleep with one of the children. Bruce picked Ace’s toys up off of their bed and set them by Ace, and then curled up around his dog for a brief minute and had fallen asleep on the dog bed.

Jason had carried Ace up the stairs and they spent the whole day in Jason’s room, and when Jason got bored of that they’d wandered into everyone else’s rooms, and found an old ball hiding underneath Damian’s bed. Ace had panted happily when they reached Bruce’s room, so they’d spent the day watching movies on Bruce’s bed.

Cass invited some of her old friends from the ballet group and Ace had perked up. They’d laughed and spent a few hours with him, and at the end of the visit Cass had been the proud owner of a bag of treats for Ace. That night, she spent several hours during patrol following every stray dog she found, giving them food and water when she could.

Steph bought Ace increasingly ridiculous doggy accessories when inspiration struck and taking numerous selfies with him, matching sunglasses on their face. She sent every one to Bruce.

Sometimes, Alfred the cat would take advantage of Ace’s now docile attitude to sit on him and take a nap.

Tim managed to coax Ace out onto the manor grounds on a particularly sunny day and Tim sketched out blueprints while Ace lay pressed against his side. The sun seemed to give him enough energy to play fetch with a stick for a few throws, and Tim recorded him on his phone and then sent it to the family group chat. Bruce reacted to the video with a heart.

Damian spent any time not in school or on patrol with Ace. He quietly followed Ace from room to room, from sibling to sibling and during their monthly family movie night he sat on the floor with Ace and the rest of their siblings and patted his belly and cooed at him about what a good boy he was. A few times, Bruce had gone upstairs after the rest of his children had already gone to sleep and found Damian asleep in his bed with Ace.

While they waited for the rest of their family to return home from patrol, Alfred sat with Ace in Bruce and Ace’s room and gently pet him while he read a book.

Duke carried Ace down to the Batcave after his afternoon patrol while the rest of the house’s occupants were sleeping. They sat in front of a display case containing one of the old batsuits, and Ace nosed the glass. Duke left him for a moment to find the current cape and wrapped Ace in it. Duke carried Ace back upstairs, cape and all, at the end of Bruce’s afternoon nap and dropped Ace off next to Bruce. It was a blatant violation of Alfred’s “no uniforms in the house” rule, but Duke figured Alfred would make an exception.

That night, Batman went out in a slightly older version of the cape.

On the last day, Bruce stayed home because Ace wouldn’t sleep or eat or move and just lay on their bed, whining intermittently. Bruce’s hands shook when he called his children who weren’t living at the manor, and on the way to the vet Duke and Damian sat with Ace in the back. Alfred was on his phone, texting various members of the family, and he kept turning in his seat to smile sadly at the dog and reach back to pet him. Bruce’s eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to watch his dog.

They waited until all of the children came. Dick was already in tears when he and Jason came, and Jason’s were red and puffy. Everyone was teary-eyed by the time Tim finally arrived, apologetic and frantic. The entire Wayne family gathered in the back to wait with Ace.

“Wait,” Dick said, his voice rough and nearly hysterical. “His toy, did anyone get his Batman toy?”

Bruce’s eyes widened for a moment before Duke shrugged off his backpack he brought from the manor. He pulled out Ace’s Batman toy, the cape Ace had been sleeping with, folded up to look like a blanket and finally, his old service dog vest, slightly faded after years of washing. Duke handed them all to Bruce who laid them out beside Ace. when Bruce gently set down the Batman plush beside Ace, Ace ignored it in favor of nuzzling into Bruce’s hand.

This is what caused Jason to make a loud hiccuping sob and burst into tears, and then all the kids followed suit.

“Children,” Alfred began, choked up, “we must make a valiant effort to… to...” he trailed off, tears dripping down his cheeks.

His children clung to each other as the vet came in, and Bruce pet Ace’s scruff while someone clung to his hand.

Bruce and Ace looked at each other. A man and his service dog. The Batman and The Bat-Hound.

“You were the best dog a man could ever ask for,” Bruce whispered when Ace closed his eyes.

***

Six months later, Bruce was waylaid by his eldest child while on the way to work.

“Did someone ask for a valet?” Dick grinned, and Bruce grunted and got in the backseat so he could talk to his granddaughter. A few minutes later, Alfred got into the passenger seat and Bruce’s trepidation grew.

“Dick,” he said, “you know I hate surprises.”

“Yeah, Bruce,” Dick said, “but it’s a good one this time, I promise.”

“The last time you said that someone painted the Batmobile pink.”

Dick laughed. Bruce turned to his granddaughter. “I swear I will never attempt to throw you a surprise party as long as I live.”

Mary gurgled at him.

“Hmm,” Bruce said. “Yes, you understand me.”

An hour later, they pulled into the parking lot of the GCPD police academy and they got out of the car.

“You said this was a good surprise, chum.”

“It is!” Dick said as he unbuckled Mary.

“I can see Steph’s car across the parking lot. And Barbara’s and Tim’s and Jason’s bike. If this is a surprise party I will never forgive any of you.”

Dick scoffed. “It is not anywhere close to your birthday.”

“A perfect time to strike.”

As they walked into the lobby, a man straightened from where he was talking to the person manning the front desk.

“Jim,” Bruce’s smile came a little easier as he walked over to shake his hand. “How’s retirement treating you?”

Jim sighed. “Barbara says I can’t complain because I was lucky enough to retire. It’s so awful I almost miss being a beat cop. Almost.”

Jim turned and started to walk down the hall. “Your kids are waiting for you,” he stopped by a nondescript door.

“I suppose you can’t tell me what this is about?”

“Well, that would ruin the surprise wouldn’t it, Bruce?”

Bruce sighed, but turned and opened the door.

“I knew it was a surprise party.”

All of his kids were piled into the small office, and they laughed at him. Barbara was in the middle of the room, a box by her feet, looking distinctly pleased with herself.

“Hi, Bruce,” she said, and then pulled out a small German Shepherd from the box.

Bruce said nothing.

“Don’t freak out,” Dick said, too late.

“Too late,” Jason said.

“I’m not freaking out,” Bruce said.

“You look like you’re freaking out a little,” Duke said apologetically.

Bruce abruptly smoothed his face.

“One of my dad’s friends helps run the K9 training. This little one was a bit ‘too friendly’ for K9 work,” Barbara said, patting the puppy’s head, whose tongue was lolling out. “So I asked if we could take her instead.”

“Guess what her name is,” Jason said, gleeful.

“Every litter usually gets themed names,” Barbara said, smiling, “And this litter’s theme was a certain group of Bat-themed vigilantes…”

“Oh, no,” Bruce said.

“Oh, yes,” Jason said.

Barbara lifted up the German Shepherd, “say hello to Robin.”

Bruce sighed but still reached out to pick up the dog. He lifted her up and stared at her face while she panted happily at him. Bruce sighed.

“Did we crush this surprise party or what?” Steph said. “Up top!” and Cass and Tim gave her a high-five.

Bruce cradled the dog to his chest and stroked her fur. Damian reached over to scratch her head.

“Being Robin is a very important responsibility,” Damian told the dog, “but I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“It turns out all of the puppies washed out of their police training. I’ve never been more proud,” Jason said.

Cass turned to Bruce. “I want the Black Bat puppy,” she signed.

Bruce hid his smile in his new Robin’s fur.

#ace the bathound #bruce wayne #batman #dc #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra wayne #damian wayne #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #batfam #the burd squawks #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[rocknrollsalad-moved]

“Halloween costume party meeting a blind date but oh it's my high school squeeze who broke my heart and is only back in town to shut down the candy factory”

Thanks to a lovely conversation with @moongoddess2k4 we are now blessed with this amazing, amazing prompt, if you will, for a Halloween Hallmark story if they did them like the Christmas ones. 

Read on to see how I ran with that idea and created a quick little something for the season. It was super fun to write and I wish I could have done a whole thing with it but there’s too much on my plate right now. 

Word Count: 3400 Triggers: some mentions of drinking/being drunk, loss of jobs, and implied future money struggles

Halloween wasn’t going to be the same this year. Decorations still adorn most doors, yards, and windows. Costumes seemed to disappear from shelves along with bags of candy. The traditions carried on as neighbors helped neighbors, a silent thing to keep a town that was built around Halloween in the spirit.

Hanging over the head of every resident, a joint burden, was the knowledge that this was the last Halloween for them. Stark Sweets and Treats would be closing its doors on November first. In those storm clouds not chased away by the sun was the reality that many of the people living here would be out of a job. Generations of candy makers, sorters, and wrappers now left on their own, without a severance package, one last bonus, or even a thank you card.

There was no future in candy anymore. Processed sugars were falling out of fashion and while no child wanted a box of raisins or an apple, parents wanted to hand out sustainably grown, sugar-free alternatives. Buzzwords, Bruce knew as much as people online spouted recycled rhetoric about saving the planet with their shift to these different treats. He’d argue with each post. Typing his nights away about the jobs they were taking, about the fallacy of that sustainable or organic sticker. GMOs weren’t what people were saying they were.

But no one listened.

What did a small-town high school science teacher know about genetically modified anythings? Never mind the multiple doctorates he held. Never mind the qualifications he had to speak on the subject. People couldn’t be reasoned with on the internet. Bruce was shouting into the void and doing nothing more than boiling his own blood.

It was mad worse by everyone pointing out he didn’t have a horse in this race. Not directly. There would still be children to teach. Year after year of the same projects and battling against boring lesson plans. He wasn’t losing anything. Instead, he’d be left to watch. Left to stand in front of his classroom trying to teach kids who carried the same weight as the adults, without the ability to bear such a thing. That’s who he fought for. These children didn’t need to know this level of hardship while trying to navigate their way to adulthood.

Most of their parents, their baby sitters, and classmates were putting on a brave face, though. Halloween kept this town afloat and while it was their last, they weren’t going to roll over and let it pass. Every annual event went just like they had for decades. Some people had done so well at pretending they weren’t waiting for the hammer to drop that they were actually having fun. And for it a moment that normalcy and false happiness rubbed off on the cranky science teacher who was never one for holidays of any sort. Even in a town built around Halloween.

As an outsider, Bruce wasn’t born with the Halloween spirit. It was gifted to him, though, year after year. Townsfolk who took pity on his pathetic attempts at decorating. Neighbors who baked treats and desserts left on his doorstep. Coworkers who brainstormed costume ideas and dragged him to parties. Each year that passed it got easier and easier for everyone to twist Bruce’s arm until they didn’t have to.

For the past few years, he’d been leaving cookies for his neighbors. A little charred on the bottom, decorated simply, but not a single house complained. The change must have emboldened some of his coworkers though as they recruited him for a night of costumed speed dating. It was the last time the town was doing something like this. They laid the guilt on thick. 

Bruce was among four other staffers who weren’t married, even one of the teachers who was dating someone went to witness it all. Many emails were exchanged for days leading up to the event. Who would wear what, despite Bruce’s numerous protests that knowing that would ruin the event. How they’d get there and which bar they were meeting at to discuss all the details. A never-ending stream of planning by people who should have been teaching their classes but everyone coasted around the holidays. 

The night would be simple enough. Bruce would go dressed in a ruined bed sheet, make sure that no one was interested in him, skip the gossipy drinks, and then two nights later at the big Halloween bash everyone would get to see their matches without obstruction.

In reality, this was a smart idea. Everyone was given a fair chance. Not to be judged on the superficial, with the exception of those few distasteful costumes that tried to sneak in, but on their personality. Answers to questions, conversational skills, it was what dates should be founded on. Not that Bruce thought he’d find a date here, no matter how ideal it was. Tagging along, instead, because his social circle was going. Because participating and being a part of the events was better than hearing about them the next day.

So he sat through a grueling two hours of three-minute dates. Listening to people both mock him for not trying and appreciating his classic callback sheet-ghost costume. Having insufferable conversations with people who didn’t understand how to listen or have the spotlight off of them. The worst was the number of Scream villains that were there, leaving a few to accessorize just to stand out. Which should have made Bruce’s costumes one of the better ones, at least he was unique. 

There was a particularly sweet Jason Voorhees that Bruce could have stood to have another three minutes with and that was far more than he’d expected to happen. He gave her favorable marks but, again, didn’t expect them to be returned.

In the last fifteen minutes, though, when Bruce was eyeing the door and thinking there was no way the last five people were going to be better than anyone before them, a werewolf sat down at the table. Promptly explaining that he wasn’t any werewolf but the Teen Wolf, hence the basketball shorts. Teen wolves were apparently very crucial to the basketball team. It was a reference Bruce didn’t get and the man seemed used to hearing that, if not still a little dejected. Running through the basic questions got them to Bruce’s job, to his doctorates, his expertise, and somehow to an argument about the merits of various alternative energy forms. A solid two minutes was spent citing facts and studies, managing to get heated enough that the host had wandered over to stand by their table.

What the host didn’t know was it was the most exciting conversation Bruce had had all night. An unnecessary argument that neither needed but both wanted. They were both right and though he couldn’t explain how, he knew they both understood the pointlessness of their argument. Both sides were right but the conversation was well informed, the Teen Wolf didn’t back down, and if Bruce thought he wanted to talk to Jason for three more minutes, he could have fought with this werewolf for three hours.

The few dates that followed were a blur, Bruce wasn’t sure he even spoke to the one. More than once he caught the werewolf looking back at his table. Whether the spirit of Halloween was watching over the town or it was fate, Bruce left the event with an unexpected feeling of success and far too many thoughts in his head. The one thing he didn’t count on had happened. He found a match.

He’d gone home, as he’d planned, but his coworkers brought the gossip to him the next morning. Waiting in his classroom with coffee. Everyone gushed (quietly as there was more than one hangover in the room) about the people they spoke with and Bruce made sure to wait until just before the first bell to say he found a werewolf who caught his interest.

Never before had his computer chimed with so many alerts. He had to mute it in order to teach but he was distracted and the kids weren’t any better. They dissolved various Halloween candy staples, carved pumpkins because someone donated their overflow and no other teacher wanted to deal with the mess, and Bruce kept the day easy. Everyone’s mind was on the party quickly approaching. And for the first time since moving here, Bruce found himself wishing it would come just a little faster. Not just so it’d be done and life could go back to normal until Christmas break.

For those few days, it seemed like no one talked about the factory closing. It wasn’t who was out of a job anymore but who was driving the tractor for the hayrides. Collectively a town decided to ignore their impending doom and had Bruce not been so wrapped up in it himself it would have been an interesting study.

Though underneath the excitement were murmurings that a Stark was in town. No one knew what for. Some hoped for the best, that’d they had seen things clearly and were going to announce that the factory would remain open. Others didn’t even try to mask their threats. The rest used logic, the town hall meeting on the first day of November was likely going to be led by Tony Stark as he thanked the community for their years of loyal service, offered nothing, and made himself feel good before going back to one of his many mansions to never think about them again. Comments that passed as quickly as they came, replaced by where to find a recipe or if the grocery store had taken eggs off the shelf yet.

Eventually all the gossiping and planning came to it’s natural conclusion. Halloween arrived and without sight or word from Stark. Bruce thought he must have some sense if he’s staying out of the way. Yet another thing to add to their list of Halloween blessings. Had Stark not been doing what he was, Bruce would have given him a bit of credit for allowing the festivities to carry on without him.

For most of the day’s events, Bruce stayed at home. He graded papers, watched a few shows, and kept things on an even keel. Not because he didn’t want to go out, he had no reason to since he didn’t have any children. He stayed home for his sanity. Crowds were never his thing and because he’d decided last night to attend the big dance in hopes of a speed date match, Bruce needed all the energy he could store. Though it did afford him far too much time to think about what it would feel like to learn no one wanted the reveal.

Staying home until he couldn’t handle the busy work anymore, Bruce made his way to the center of town. Talking to kids he currently taught, kids he’d taught in the past who were carrying children of their own, and running into a couple of people from work all helped to wrap the event in a warm feeling of welcome. The brisk air mixed with the food and blew around leaves, creating something nothing short of picturesque. As he took it all in, Bruce’s heart broke with the knowledge that the town would never feel like this again.

He bought popcorn balls from some grade school kids, drank what felt like a gallon of apple cider, and stocked up on candies for the rest of the fall. Bruce found a greater sense of peace and calm out among the crowd than he did at home but slowly families started to make their way home. Children were left with babysitters, teenagers went off to their parties deep in the woods that they thought no one knew about, and left the adults to their barn dance.

The nerves Bruce had been trying to avoid found their way to him as he wrote his name on a sticker, drew a little ghost and pressed it over the pocket of his flannel shirt. When the matches were posted right at center stage, Bruce held back. Maybe if everyone else paired up he wouldn’t even need to see. Except he needed to know. Before he could force his legs to carry him up to his fate someone stood in front of him.

“You? You were under that sheet?” the man asked

“I was. You were, uh? I don’t see your name tag.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think it went with my outfit.”

“Who says stuff like that?”

“I don’t know, me I guess.”

“I feel like I know you,” Bruce said, squinting in hopes it would help him figure it out.

The man stood there, watching Bruce with a single arched eyebrow, holding his breath in waiting. It took a minute, far too long if you asked either of them, but Bruce’s eyes went wide.

“Tony? Tony Carbonell? No! It can’t be. What are you doing here?”

“Business,” Tony said. Not exactly lying.

“God, I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“Science High. Home of the best or something like that.”

“Only if you applied yourself,” Bruce laughed at his own joke and it didn’t feel like it was his voice. He’d not laughed like that since...high school.

Repressed feelings came flooding back. The memory of how badly he wanted to talk to Tony when they were fifteen. They were from two different worlds but in constant competition for the top of their class. Bruce would have let Tony win if it meant they got to talk though. He hadn’t pinned for anyone as much or as hard since. Now he was standing face to face, talking to him like they were long-lost friends.

If that realization wasn’t enough, Tony decided to pile on when he said “If I’d have known it was a classmate under that sheet, I’m not sure I would have marked you down as my match.”

Bruce almost dropped his drink. “What?”

“Yeah, you were the only interesting conversation the entire night. I was just bummed we didn’t have another minute. We could have got ourselves kicked out.”

“Wh-” before Bruce could finish repeating himself he sucked in a hefty breath. “The werewolf?”

“Teen Wolf. I told you, man. C’mon, I thought you were smart enough to hold a thought for a day.”

“It’s been two and a half.”

“That’s still not that long.”

Scanning the room, Bruce desperately tried to find a familiar face. Anyone to help out with this situation. He was in over his head and had forgotten why this was a good idea. He wanted to bolt for the door. Not even the door, if he could break through the nearest wall and just run home it’d be preferred.

None of that happened. He was left to stand there with his first crush and talk about flirting with each other. In the course of the conversation, Bruce had fully regressed to his teenage self. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know where to put his arms. Why didn’t he have something stronger than cider to drink? Of which he needed another gallon because his throat had never been this dry.

“Who was your pick?” Tony asked.

“Huh?”

“Who did you write down on the form? Who’d you wanna meet?”

“Um, you. The Teen Wolf.”

“Really?”

Bruce nodded to the stage, nearly clear now as everyone had found out whether or not a match had been made, silently telling Tony to go check if he didn’t believe him. Which Tony did. Walking away without a word. As soon as his back was turned, Bruce doubled over, hands on his knees, and breathing like he’d finished a marathon. Now was his chance to run. Yet, again, his feet didn’t want to move. Glued to the spot, waiting for Tony to come back and confirm what Bruce knew to be true. After all these years they’d finally matched.

Before he could coordinate his mind and body, make a swift but likely clumsy exit, Bruce stood up to find himself staring at one of his coworkers. She thought she’d put down a guy she had great chemistry with but they didn’t match and she was distraught. Not that she knew which of the men in the room were the one she was looking for so they were all suspect. Each of them awful in a randomly assigned way.

She’d made the assumption that Bruce hadn’t made a love connection either given he was standing alone and Bruce could have used this as an out. Escort her to the bar, drowning her sorrows, and lay low. Yet those words didn’t come out. Instead, he explained the situation. That he was waiting on confirmation from the tall, dark, and handsome man walking towards them. They had both written down each other’s disguise. Though he did leave out the part that they’d gone to high school together.

Tony came in just in time, nipping the protests and cries of how unfair it was that bordered on insulting. A charming grin that Bruce did not remember him having in school. In fact, Tony had little in common with his high school version. Whereas Bruce wanted desperately to grow another foot, Tony had. He looked like he worked out. Not in a lab, like Bruce, but a gym like people were supposed to. Everything was immaculate, his hair, clothes, smile, all of it. A far cry from just another one of the nerds. If Bruce didn’t know better, Tony almost looked like the kind of person to shove nerds in lockers.

But that couldn’t be true. Tony extended a hand towards Bruce. The slow music, a room full of people swaying back and forth as they excitedly talked about the speed dating and its outcome, Bruce knew what that meant. He’d watched enough movies. Trying to hide wiping his hand on his shirt before putting it in Tony’s, he accepted the dance. Gliding through this dream. So many other places boasted the magic of Christmas but in this moment, it didn’t hold a evergreen scented candle to Halloween.

The last time Bruce had danced with anyone, he’d been a child playing pretend with family. And yet it came easy, his hand in Tony’s, their arms around each other, and just enough distance to talk as they moved around. Like everyone around them, they talked endlessly. The conversation came easy, as unusual as that was for Bruce.

Somewhere between memories brought up by the songs the DJ played, what they’d done since high school, and watching as the dance floor emptied, the sun had gone down. Replacing that warm autumn light with string after string of lights above their head. The perfect glow as the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes had burnt off and bonfires had taken over.

“So what brings you here?” Bruce finally asked. The question had been sitting behind everything else they’d discussed. “It’s pretty far from where we met and I know my path here but you...you don’t live here, I’d have seen you before.”

“I don’t, I live in New York. Would you buy that I came for the spirit of Halloween?”

“Plausible. It is why most visitors come but you strike me as more of an Amityville Horror Halloween than caramel apples and corn mazes.”

“You’re not wrong,” Tony laughed. “Have you been there?”

“No, and you’re changing the subject.”

“And you’re too smart to fall for it. What if I told you no one has called me Carbonell in so long I almost forgot it was me?”

Bruce stopped the lazy circle they were shuffling in. “What do you mean?”

“It’s my mom’s maiden name. I went by it in school because my dad’s last name is, uh, recognizable and I didn’t want to be recognized. I mean, I still don’t want to be recognized as his but I’ve got his company, I’m trying to make it better. Make the name better.”

Facts were connecting for Bruce and he didn’t like where they were going. The data made sense but he needed to hear it. “What’s your last name then.”

Around them, the world seemed to stop and slowly fade away. Without the music, Bruce had come to a complete stop, staring at Tony and daring him to give the answer they both knew he would. The answer that would ruin Halloween.

“Stark.”

#science bros #hallmark halloween #one shot

[conventionally-average]

The Plight of a Hero (BNHA fanfic)

CHAPTER 2: A CONVERSATION

"...I need to speak to your Master," Deku stated to Shigaraki as he pushed his way into the room.

"It's not like I can do anything. Do what you have to-"

The door slammed in Shigaraki's face before he could finish. Rage bubbled within his body as he scratched away at his neck. He had to stay calm. Master sent him for a reason, so he has to stay calm.

Why did Master send him? Why him? Why are you here?

The lights from the T.V. flickered to life, lighting the room with a cold white wash, showcasing the very man Deku met before.

"The man from my future-you- told me he was sending me back. Into the past. Why the hell are things different? Why the fuck am I in U.A? By this point, I would've-" Deku stopped himself, his eyes widening, and looking down on the ground.

"If I were to send you back in time, it would've been either by a portal or a quirk. Either of which would have a side-effect. Surely you're smart enough to figure it out on your own."

"I-"

"Either way, does it really matter? All you want to do is save someone, right? Take them back to your reality, and look after them? Do that. After all, time is money isn't it?" A cold laugh erupted from All for One's mouth, making Deku shiver in fear.

"Fine."

--------------------------------------------

“So? Where is he?” Kuroguri asked cleaning the bar top with a wet cloth as Deku came out of the room, his usual composure lost.

“Well, he's right here of course!” Deku bit sarcastically as his crimson eyes glared at Kurogiri.

“...you do realise I only let you go because you said you’d bring back a student, right?”

“You do realise that what I do is none of your business, right?”

“You were sent here at a price. Surely I don’t have to remind you of that.”

“The price being my service, ya I know. But that’s in my world. What I do to achieve my personal desires in this world is none. Of. Your. Business.”

“You mean your future? Our future eventually?”

“I meant what I said warp face. It seems I have been transported to a different timeline, and less further in the past than realised. I’m only staying here ‘cause of that ‘Master’ guy. Otherwise, stay out of my way unless asked. The sooner this can end, the better.” Deku spat, as he went upstairs towards his bedroom.

“Despicable, isn’t he?” Dabi exclaimed as he came out of the shadows to the light. Kurogiri only nodded as  silence spread across, only to be broken with the occasional sound of wiping.

“At least we know our plan will work. I mean it’s only a given if it led him to be a villain.”

-------------------------------------------------

Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. "So let me get this straight... a man wearing Midoriya's tattered costume, with a mask on his face broke in with a loud noise, without alerting any security measures put into place, hugged Midoriya, tried to kidnap Bakugo which led to him hurting Kirishima and left through the warp villain? And he specifically said, 'I'll fix everything soon?'"

"He directed it to Midoriya-kun specifically, Aizawa-sensei." chimed Iida. Aizawa sighed in frustration as he went around the room and gathered their point of views on what had happened. The class looked back at a distant Midoriya and Bakugo in a worried manner.

"...What did he say to you Kacchan?" Midoriya asked hesitantly.

"..." Kacchan opened his mouth, then closed it, as if it wasn't worth bringing up.

"I don't know if you saw it or not, but he hugged me. Desperately."

"Good for you."

"Kacchan."

Bakugo looked at Midoriya who turned his head away from Bakugo; his eyebrows were knitted in worry, his hand on his mouth as he stared into the ground. The bloody nerd was thinking about saving Deku.

"...do you think it's you? Or rather it's you from the future, I guess?" Bakugo asked Midoriya.

"...I'm not sure. He looks similar to me in certain ways, but most of the costume- or rather my costume- covered his facial structure. He had red eyes like Kirishima and a burn scar similar to Todoroki. It's like a weird combination of Kirishima, Todoroki and me, strangely enough… if it was me, why would I refer to myself as Izuku? Why would I think of myself as quirkless if I was from the future? He also seemed to have a relationship with you, Kacchan. The only other thing I could think of is some sort of quirk incident-"

"So when he came back, all he could remember was my interactions with you?"

"It's only speculation- "

"Oi problem child #1" Aizawa called out to Midoriya. "It's your turn." Midoriya nodded towards Aizawa and stood up.

"He seemed to focus in on us and ignore our friends Kacchan... 

“I know.”

“...he hurt Kirishima-kun," whispered Midoriya.

"...I know..."

"You need to tell Aizawa-sensei Kacchan. Our friends could be in danger."

"Just… shut up Deku," Bakugo said, with no real malice behind his words.

Midoriya walked away, Bakugo facing his back as he walked further from him. Bakugo sighed in frustration, tired of everything that had happened.

All he wanted was one day of peace.

A/N: Check out this story on Wattpad as well!

#bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfic #bakugo katsuki #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #deku #dabi #kurogiri #bnha shigaraki #my hero academia #drama #angst

[thegoldenreport]

MIND BENT

Pretending to be someone else is easy, especially when you’ve been doing it your whole life. Amber-Eye 098 is an top tier imitation artist from the Southern Moon district, who has almost twelve years of experience under her belt in deceiving the general public for fun.

She recently sat down with Golden Report executives to share one such experience - how she managed to infiltrate Jatty’s Candy Cave and impersonate the titular owner, while remaining undetected for three months.

If the name of “Jatty’s Candy Cave” doesn’t ring a bell for you or stir up a primordial urge to vomit, we highly recommend an appointment with your local re-education services to rectify the issue. But in the mean time, we’ll ask you a very simple question, what’s really in their candy?

Or to put it in a different way...

Are you meant to be seeing the buzzing, glitching, oozing shadow that stands in the corner of your room at all times?

…

AE098: Whenever I approach a new character, I choose to look first at their environment. Their people. You can tell a lot about how a person is supposed to act just by looking at their people.

Jatty’s Candy Cave, for example, is housed in a very elaborate sewer system underneath the inner city of West Logos. Jatty doesn’t voluntarily share this information, but somehow makes sure her customers spread it like the plague. She wants to be known far and wide, yet continues to stay hidden. Chosen isolation perhaps as a method of retaining control? A walking contradiction nonetheless.

Sending several camera flies into the underground system confirmed she didn’t work alone. A personal assistant named Rael followed her every beck and call. Visuals showed him to be a funny little man who changed his aesthetic and vocal inflection on the daily. Though tended to favor anything revolving around a space or astronaut theme. It was a good thing I wasn’t stealing his identity.

Jatty, on the other hand, donned an a-line purple skirt, skin tight black turtle neck, dark green combat boots (which just so happened to be the same shade as her nefarious chemical ingredient, zeroX), and a pair of velvet back gloves that extended her fingers into claws.

Unlike Rael, she wore this suit on the regular and showed no signs of switching it up. Which of course made things ridiculously convenient for my costumes associate. She does such a sublime job at matching garments down to the very fabric and shade. I had nothing but confidence in her work.

I remember spending long evenings in her sewing shop, top floor of the special ops building. Trying on the boots and pacing around the floor. Feeling out the walk of, shall we say...a potential murderer? An ill advised chemistry enthusiast? Mad science extraordinaire? I wouldn’t know for sure until I became her.

Everything is a performance. Everyone has a good side. Everyone loves to act for the camera that isn’t even there. You may be wondering why we even go through the trouble of full body espionage if we already send in a hundred camera flies to wire tap the place. To that I say again, everything is a performance. The name of the game is not just tearing down the curtain, but walking backstage. The one place a camera refuses to go.

Further audiovisual input revealed her voice to be low and musky, like she constantly had to be clearing her throat (of her own toxins, perhaps?). We had vocal modifier pills that could mimic this effect. And her walk was always brisk in comparison to the slower moving factory workers. She was a being in motion, a blur that could not stop for more than a few moments at a time. And it wasn’t just an urgency to it, but a nervousness, a real fear. I was excited to discover more.

In the days leading up to my deployment, special operatives performed what we like to call a body snatch. Methodically extracted in such a way that Jatty would not even think to deny leaving with us. We offered an opportunity, intentionally vague, but sweet enough to seal the deal. Or that’s how it started.

In reality, we slipped a sleeping agent into her water glass, while discussing terms in the late hours of the evening. I’m not entirely sure where they took her, but by that point, I was ready.

MEETINGS

This is the word I would use to describe my first month in character. I remember the night I slipped into her office chair, torn faux leather at a cherry red mahogany desk. I remember the stickiness of said office chair. I remember pouring through her journals, her agenda books, her middle school science books. She was a being on the move, constantly meeting with someone. But for what?

One such meeting that stook out to me was with a blue deer handler, and only in my second week of deployment. I had read about this particular blue deer. And the sweet nectarine like flavor of it’s blood. Our conversation was brief, speaking about his latest harvest for the factory. He had come across a surplus, could give more this month than before. I was immediately suspicious. Could this blood contain the hallucinogenic properties I had heard about?

Unfortunately, the answer was no. Can confirm. I tried it myself.

It was however the main component of almost all their candy’s flavor profile. But I couldn’t have cared less about the flavor.

CHEMICALS

My second month felt the most comfortable. No one had yet raised a suspicious eye towards me, save for a few factory workers who I quickly disposed of, as per my training. I had gotten used to the endless walking. Learning to digest informative material while on the go. Like all those mad scribbles in her middle school science textbook. Keeping all conversations either short or long depending on what the situation called for.

I had internalized every type of candy we made in the Cave. The pipes hissed. The air smelled like swamp water. The work room was a mental prison of blood, sweat, and flickering lights. It was here that I learned the ingredients. That I tasted the fruit for the first time. Although I was pretty good at pretending I had done it many times.

She must have built up a tolerance to the drugs they use if she does this on the regular.

The candy I tried was called Vox. A lime green sucker that slowly turns into goo as it melts in your mouth. The color is deceptive. One might expect it to taste like an apple or even a lime. It tasted like salted butter.

This particular candy among many others contained a key ingredient known as zeroX: an opaque, thick, dark green almost black liquid at room temperature. Meant to be highly addictive. Meant to simulate an adrenaline rush. Meant to make the whole body shiver. The eyes dilate. The palms sweat. You feel like an imposter in your own skin. You believe that the voices on the radio are talking directly to you. The paranoia crawls deep into your brain, filling the space behind your eyes.

But you don’t hallucinate.

Can confirm, as I locked myself in the chief office and rode out it’s side effects on the wave of a panic attack.

SECRETS

In the middle of month 3, we received a mysterious package from a tall man in a black trench coat. My assistant Rael brought it to me at my desk, during one of the few times I had felt comfortable sitting down. He seemed to know exactly what it was. And assumed I also knew.

It was a black box, no seams or openings, no buttons or lights or switches. The only thing of note was a silver etching of an eye marked out with an X. It was a symbol that made me shudder. I had seen it all over the textbook. I had seen it plastered on every police car and above every government building. It’s a symbol you should all know. That was the first secret.

Our own leaders were in on it. Turning a blind eye.

That was the beginning of the crack in my facade. That little pause. That miniscule choke before my answer. I noticed a glimmer of something in Rael’s eyes. Confusion. Doubt. Suspicion. Patrons not trained in this artform might miss a cue like that, but I knew I had to begin my extraction.

A week later, I exposed my taste to zeroC. One of two chemicals they used as zeroX was designated for hard candy and zeroC for soft. Only five percent of their production contained soft candy. They don’t talk about zeroC. They mix it under tables or in dark corners of the room where the light doesn’t touch them. Which leads to the second secret.

The black box was zeroC, ground up like powder to be mixed with the syrup.

I had been reading about this less popular ingredient written upside down between the lines of Jatty’s incredibly weathered textbook. Similar to the effects of LSD or DMT, but extremely more potent and infinitely more long lasting. Made with the same blood of that fantastical blue deer.

I was fearing the inevitable. My weekly tasting of the newest batch. I could not fake it. All the workers lined up to stare at me at I sat before their production table and consumed their poison. There are some things you simply cannot fake before that many eyes.

I felt the sweet juice explode in my mouth as the candy’s skin broke between my teeth. I swallowed with all the confidence of returning to my office to take a shot of my emergency counteractive medicine.

I immediately started to cry. A side effect I was not expecting. The emotion swallowed me as they all stared. Some perplexed. Some, dare I say, satisfied? I stumbled through the hallways. Rael chasing after me with a clipboard. I didn’t turn to look at him. Escaped to my office, shut the door, and locked it. Which brings me to the third and final secret.

I had been fooling no one. They knew.

Sitting behind the cherry stained mahogany desk was the real Jatty, holding the shattered remains of the syringe, which contained my antidote. Ice blue eyes magnified by the chemicals coursing through my body. Her glare pierced through my skull. I don’t know if she escaped, if I was set up, or if my extraction was on short notice. My supervisors have neglected to tell me.

But as I was there with knees buckled and tunnel vision, I saw the black shadow of a hand appear on her shoulder and she whispered.

Don’t forget this. You people have no control.

I blacked out after that. My supervisors came to collect me after some time. I felt their arms wrapped around me as they dragged me out, slipping in and out of consciousness. Unable to process the shocking and also very strange things I was hearing.

Something about not keeping the deal. Something about craving orange juice. Another thing about an early return. And another thing about wombats in space.

I was in recovery for three weeks afterwards while our physicians on hand constructed an antidote. The hallucinations have stopped, but the paranoia is still palpable. They offered me a mind wipe pill, asked me if I wanted to forget.

I told them it was impossible.

#the golden report #issue two #unreality #paranoia #drugs #original #storytelling #hallucination #delusion #let me ask you this #is this the kind of exposure you wanted? #jatty's candy cave

[nomolosk]

Snapshots (AU Yeah August 2020)

read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655623/chapters/63153622

Day 18- Bookshop

Hawkmoth was getting impatient. Universal had been at large for two days, heading into three, and so far there had been no results whatsoever, except for the mother of all backlash headaches resulting from that momentary ‘star-crossed lovers’ universe, or whatever she’d called it. Moreover, he’d had to spend most of his time transformed, which was putting him rather glaringly behind on the designs for his newest line. Of course, he was also getting some excellent inspiration from all these different universes, but…

He decided enough was enough. If Universal couldn’t draw out or find Ladybug and Chat Noir in the next twelve hours, he would pull the akuma and try again. Activating his link to Universal, he readied what he was going to say.

“Universal,” he began in his patented Intimidating Voice, “I am growing tired of this endless parade of universes, none of which bring the miraculouses or their bearers any closer to me!”

“You promised me the power to change reality itself, Hawkmoth!” Universal started to complain.

“But only if you would do the work to find my nemeses so I can finally defeat them and take their miraculouses,” Hawkmoth reminded her. There was silence on the other end for a moment. Then she spoke again.

“I actually think I may be close,” she said in a quieter tone. “Of all the pulls between two people, this has been the strongest I’ve felt, and… it’s quite strong, Hawkmoth. It can only be because these two have also got miraculouses.”

Hawkmoth narrowed his eyes, somewhat surprised that she’d actually fulfilled her side of the bargain. After all, there were only a few of his many hundred akuma who had even come close- so many had been utter failures, and the rest had not been up to the challenge, even with the powers he gave them.

“Let me see,” Hawkmoth commanded, and the link between them strengthened enough for him to see what she was seeing. It robbed her of agency, stopping her in her tracks, but that hardly mattered. It wasn’t like she was a particularly offensive akuma. Her strength lay in not being noticed. In fact, with the masquerade ball universe she’d currently got going, the glowing butterfly symbol might well have simply been a part of her mask and no one would take notice.

Hawkmoth peered through the gloom until he could see two people wrapped in a passionate embrace. However, even with the darkness, the masks, and the costumes, he could tell they weren’t the ones he was looking for. Their skin tones were too dark, the heights didn’t match, and moreover, he recognized them. They had borne miraculouses a few years ago, but after Miracle Queen had exposed their identities, Ladybug had never called on them again.

“That’s not Ladybug and Chat Noir! That’s the Ladyblogger and her boyfriend!” Hawkmoth yelled. Fury roared through him and into the link, making Universal seize up with pain. He didn’t care. She’d raised his hopes only to dash them again. She should feel his wrath. 

“You have twelve hours,” he threatened. “Don’t disappoint me again.”

----

Universal shuddered in relief as the pain vanished along with Hawkmoth’s presence in the back of her mind. She cast a sullen look at the pair of lovers who had inadvertently caused this pain. It wasn’t their fault, but she hadn’t been akumatized for being rational. She decided to get back at them by making them star in the most boring universe she could think of. And just to make it extra mind-numbing, she extended the same Paris-wide effect as she had for the university life universe.

The headband on her head pulsed in time with her thought, and an indelible sphere of change spread out from her. She smiled grimly as the two before her were transformed from the mysterious and alluring masked couple into two average bookstore workers. She’d put a little more power into the memory editing part of the spell, trying to make sure that the two people in front of her wouldn’t remember what they’d been doing or why they were in the same part of the store. The two of them broke apart under the influence of the mind wipe, and found themselves apparently manning the counter of a large chain bookstore.

“You let the magic and mystery of the universe I gave you carry you away, but you’ll see… Romance doesn’t last long when confronted by the horrifying mundanity of everyday life,” she muttered under her breath. She was on a timer now- she had to make every second count. But first, she was going to ensure at least one of these people had a bad day.

She marched up to the counter, determined to act like the most disgruntled and entitled customer she could be. She would give him hell, and then she would track down that snake and mouse couple.

----

Alya blinked. For a moment she could have sworn… but then reality reasserted itself and she noticed that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. 

“Alya, what are you doing here? Get back to work!” Nino hissed at her, then pasted on a smile for the evidently quite disgruntled customer stomping up to the counter. Alya smiled but turned away, a little hurt at Nino’s insistence. He’d managed to score a coveted customer service position lately, but he’d spent more time in the warehouse where all the books came in than she had. Had he just forgotten what it was like to escape the mindless drudgery even for only as long as her break? It wasn’t like she didn’t know not to interrupt when there was a customer to help, and she could have tidied the gift bags, or something while she waited.

It honestly baffled her why the grand bookstore that was practically its own city by now, couldn’t keep more than one person on a counter at a time. It seemed so counterintuitive, she thought. She came back around the counter and hopped on the off-brand segway used by store employees who couldn’t afford to spend a good half-hour walking from one section to the next. She glanced back at Nino, only to see his smile grow strained as the Karen at the counter ranted at him. She spared him some pity- the backroom might be boring and dull, but at least she didn’t have to put up with harassment. She took careful note of the woman, the purplish headband she wore, her... questionable clothing choices, and the way her manicure was so cheap the colors had actually leached onto her fingertips.

Wait...

----

Marinette giggled as Adrien spun her out, narrowly avoiding the bookshelf to her left. He tugged her hand and she obligingly spun back, crossing her arms over her torso to hold his hands as they swayed together, back to chest. She giggled again, bright and happy. Still, they were at work.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” she said, grinning up at him. “But shouldn’t we get back to work? I mean, what brought this on?”

“It’s quirky and fun,” Adrien replied promptly. “Plus, we both need a break from shelving overpriced textbooks, and... I like dancing with you.” He smiled. 

She felt herself blushing, but fortunately she was currently too relaxed and into the moment for her overzealous anxiety to rear its ugly head and ruin everything. She sighed and closed her eyes, just for a moment, enjoying being so close to her crush and hearing him say he liked dancing with her.

The approaching whir of one of the store scooters made her eyes shoot open again and she tore herself away from Adrien, heart pounding. If it was one of the many managers and they got caught doing anything but their actual job…

She got to work, making room on the shelf before hefting a stack of heavy textbooks into the cleared space, making sure the spines were right side up. When she glanced over at Adrien- just to see if he was hurt or offended by her sudden leap away from him- he was working away at the next shelf over. His expression was neutral, but when he saw her looking he took the time to smile and wink at her. She smiled back. 

Marinette really hoped he didn’t think she suddenly hated him, or was ashamed to be caught dancing with him. But he probably didn’t. Stocking the shelves was one step up from unboxing and labeling the books back in the warehouse, and no one who had escaped that wanted to go back to it.

Marinette hoped that the scooter would pass them by, but unfortunately it came to a stop at the end of their aisle of shelves. 

“Pssst!”

Marinette looked up to see, not an overbearing manager, but her friend Alya, who had started working there a lot more recently than any of her other friends and was consequently still stuck in the warehouse. She must be on her break, Marinette thought. I wonder why she’s not with Nino?

Curious, she went over.

“I can’t talk right now, Alya, I’ve got all these to shelve and there are more where those came from.”

“Nino just got chewed out by the weirdest customer guys,” Alya said, and only then did Marinette realize that Adrien had joined them. “You’ve gotta come check it out!”

Alya zipped away, and Marinette and Adrien shared a look of mutual mischief before tearing after her.

@auyeahaugust

#mlauyeahaugust #auyeah2020 #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #bookstore #bookshop au

[friendship-korea-japan]

8.4. Seoul was drastically modernized

Question 8: About the shift of Korea › 4. Seoul was drastically modernized

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8.4. Seoul was drastically modernized

Large cities including Seoul and Busan were revived as modern cities thanks to Japanese and Korean cooperation.

  There is a detailed description on page 41 of the Japanese version (page 27 of the original version) of Korea and Her Neighbours about the situation of the streets of Busan, Korea, which Isabella Bird visited for the first time in 1894.

[ Its (=Busan’s) narrow dirty streets consist of low hovels built of mud-smeared wattle without windows, straw roofs, and deep eaves, a black smoke hole in every wall 2 feet from the ground, and outside most are irregular ditches containing solid and liquid refuse.]

  In addition, she described on pages 58-59 and 65 of the Japanese version (pages 40 and 45 of the original version) what she witnessed during her stay in Seoul.

[I shrink from describing intra-mural Seoul. I thought it the foulest city on earth till I saw Peking, and it smelled the most odious, till I encountered those of Shao-shing! […] in labyrinthine alleys, many of them not wide enough for two loaded bulls to pass, indeed barely wide enough for one man to pass a loaded bull, and further narrowed by a series of vile holes or green, slimy ditches, which receive the solid and liquid refuse of the houses,

[…]

　One of the “sights” of Seoul is the stream or drain or watercourse, a wide, walled, open conduit, along which a dark-colored festering stream slowly drags its malodorous length, among manure and refuse heaps which cover up most of what was once its shingly bed (page 65 of the Japanese version or page 45 of the original version).]

  This description of the streets of Seoul is extremely similar to that of Busan, and we could roughly imagine what other cities were like. It would be adequate to say that it was the condition of Korean cities (streets) formed during the 500 years of the Joseon era.

  In 1894, as 18 years had passed since Korea was open to Japan in 1876, Japanese settlements, along with settlements of other countries including Qing, had been formed in Busan and Seoul. It is stated in the aforementioned book that the Japanese towns in Busan and Seoul, as of 1894, had large streets, water and sewage services, lighting, as well clean and modest-looking shops and houses.

  We are quoting photographs before and after the annexation of Namdaemun Gate from The New Korea. The first photo was taken around 1892 before the annexation. In a single shot, it vividly shows Namdaemun Gate, which was built in the glorious era of the Joseon dynasty, and the dilapidated surrounding area in the final years of the Joseon era.

  The next photo shows Namdaemun Gate and the surrounding area following the changes effected under Japanese rule.

  The roads were well maintained, and streetcars were running in the city (while no streetcar appears on the photo, the black belt seems to be the track), and you can see a three-story building on the left at the rear.

  In addition, there is a description of what Keijo (Seoul) looked like between around 1930-1935 on pp. 16-18 of Positively Understanding the Era under Japanese Rule (日本統治時代を肯定的に理解する).

[ I was born in Keijo (Seoul) in 1926, 16 years after the Japanese annexation of Korea (1910). When I reached the age of discretion, streetcars were running on the main streets of Seoul, electricity, water services, telephone and radio were being introduced, and with such imposing buildings as the Office of the Government-General of Korea, Keijo Prefectural Office and Keijo Railway Station, the city was starting to show the aspect of a modern metropolis.

  The city of Keijo was roughly divided into two parts. The area to the north of Cheonggyecheon River, which runs in the east-west direction, was the Korean quarter, while the Japanese quarter lay to the south of the river.

[…]

  While the city was roughly divided in this way, the inhabitants could of course walk around freely in any part of the city without anxiety or inconvenience, even in traditional costume.

  Regarding the population composition of Korea in 1942, the total population nationwide was 26,278,232, among which Koreans accounted for 25,525,409 people (97.14%), while there were 752,823 Japanese people (2.86%).

  The total population of Keijo was 1,108,441, composed of 941,101 Koreans (84,9%) and 167,340 Japanese (15.1%).

[…]

  My father (Bak Jeong-seo) did not care whether the hotels, restaurants, department stores or hospitals that he visited were managed by Koreans.

  While these days most young Koreans believe that the Japanese in the colonial era were arrogant and hurt Koreans, in reality there was no such antagonist feelings, even if both might have considered each other as strangers.]

  As shown in the description above, we could see that within 20 to 25 years after the beginning of Japanese rule, Seoul had developed into a modern metropolis of 1,100,000 inhabitants. According to the description of the British female travelogue Isabella Bird, the population of Seoul in 1894-1897 was about 250,000, however, 48 years later, in 1942, the population of Seoul had multiplied by 4.4 times to reach 1,100,000. This shows that Seoul had turned into a very livable metropolis.

  Following this description, Park Chan-ung recalls that he saw at a Japanese restaurant he visited with his family a Japanese female employee wearing a pretty uniform apologizing with tears in her eyes when the order took a long time to come, that the female owner of a Japanese general store in the countryside was kind, that the ice cream that he ordered in a Japanese teahouse was served with wafers, that the nurse of an otorhinolaryngologist clinic gave him a new bottle with liquid medicine when he dropped and broke a medicine bottle that he had received there, and that the dentist he used to consult used to treat him kindly. In other words, he describes from his experience that Japanese and Koreans at that time were not in a hostile relationship and treated each other in a kind manner.

  Meanwhile, there is the following description in Annals of the Government-General of Korea 1923 about the issue of the improvement of streets. We have translated the original Japanese quotation into present-day Japanese.

[Most of the urban streets of Korea were narrow, dirty and intricate, which hindered traffic. Therefore, to improve the situation, a lot of efforts were made to straighten the streets, ease the slopes, widen the roads and build new streets as necessary. It was decided to improve the streets of Seoul with the national budget, and 43 streets were chosen for improvement works. Works for 13 of these streets were accomplished between 1911 and 1918 at an expense of three million yen (around sixty billion yen in today’s value). That was how cities experienced a tremendous shift in appearance and in the efficiency of transport.]

  It was likely that the “national budget” referred to the budget of the Government-General of Korea. The source of that budget was mainly composed of the tax money paid by Koreans, the funds that the Government-General obtained from its businesses including the railway, as well as the tremendous amount of subvention from the Japanese government.

#joseon era #Korea #about south korea #history of korea #korea-japan

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 5: The Return of Mysterio

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We finish off our coverage of Mysterio’s history by bringing us up to date. We will also be covering more MJ centric events as we set up for AMJ #1.

Welcome to the 2010s!

Beck’s Back Baby!

Marvel truly brought the original Mysterio back in early 2010 as part of the overarching ‘Gauntlet’ event running through Brand New Day. However, later retcons from the ‘Spider-Men’ mini-series revealed he’d actually been back even earlier than that. He simply opted to concentrate his efforts on Earth 1610/the Ultimate Universe.

Because I do not want to go through the agony of refreshing my memory of BND or Slott’s run I shall instead simply take note of one significant event Mysterio participated in during the latter.

In the ‘Ends of the Earth’ arc (ASM #682-687) Mysterio was knowingly complicit in Doc Ock’s scheme to seemingly fix global warming. In reality it was the dying doctor’s goal to mass murder half the planet so that he’d be immortalized in the minds of the survivors as worse than Hitler.

Long story short, Otto planned to use space tech to manipulate the sun’s rays and direct them at whatever areas of the Earth he chose. In effect he could heat up or cool down whatever areas of the planet he wished.

It all kicked off in ASM #682 when Otto used his weapon to target half the world and heat it up. Known areas affected included New York City, Illinois, Rio De Janeiro and Ontario. The art depicts animals suffering or dying along with masses of people enduring severe pain and with some passing out; presumably from serious heat stroke.

Ock claimed this was merely a demonstration of what the real life effects of global warming would be. His intent was merely to shock people into accepting his solution of using this same technology to resolve the climate crisis. However, even if he were sincere (which he absolutely wasn’t) he still would’ve caused a lot of unnecessary harm to up to 3.5 billion people and many more animals and wildlife.

Sure, this is all Ock’s scheme and none of the Sinister Six seemed to know his true intent. But his initial demonstration was still sadistic and harmful even if no one died (which is frankly contrived and ridiculous). Mysterio still went along with it, and as ASM #684-685 proved it was for purely selfish reasons. As payment for ending global warming Otto wanted to have the Sinister Six’s criminal records expunged and $2 billion paid to each of them.

Granted later (for equally selfish reasons) Beck switched sides. But that still demonstrates what a bad person he ultimately was.

The thing to bear in mind is that this was all highly public. EVERYONE on Earth knew about this and MJ was depicted on panel as a witness among the billions of onlookers. So she knows Mysterio only helped save the world out of selfishness and was willing to harm billions of people out of similar selfishness.

Invasion>Attention>Reconciliation?

One last time skip brings us to the home stretch; Nick Spencer’s run on ASM.

In the first issue of Spencer’s run we learn that Mysterio has fabricated a highly believable alien invasion (chiefly utilizing practical effects) at the heart of town.

Daredevil, the Avengers and the Guardians of the Galaxy are among the heroes who’ve assembled to deal with the crisis. Beck’s effects are so convincing that he has all of them fooled and thus unable to resolve the situation. That’s pretty impressive when you consider that between them they’ve got immense intelligence, scanning technology and hyper senses.

This is yet further proof of just how skilful a trickster Mysterio is.

Peter defeats Beck but almost dies in the attempt.

Prompted by his experiences that night and by Mysterio’s own words, Peter sought out MJ.

Upon finding her he relayed (without specifying details) how he almost died earlier and how this put things into perspective for him. The end result of their talk is that he and MJ finally reconcile.

In the last instalment I spoke about how Peter clearly keeps MJ abreast of most of his super heroics; or at least did when they were married.

Let’s bear that in mind as we consider this specific situation

After years of separation and false starts at reconciliation, the magic has finally been rekindled between them.

It happened the very same night as, and in direct response to, an event involving Mysterio.

An event we already know Peter mentioned to MJ without specifying details.

An event that involved a deliberately public staging of an alien invasion at the heart of Manhattan! An invasion that involved the Avengers no less! And one of whom (Iron Man) MJ worked for until very recently.

Whether that night or soon thereafter it is extremely likely Mary Jane would’ve learned that Mysterio was behind the event in question.

Peter would’ve told her. It beguiles beliefs that he would’ve done otherwise. In the seminal ‘Kraven’s Last Hunt’ storyline Peter was completely missing for two weeks, buried alive by Kraven the Hunter. Within hours of crawling out of the ground Peter reunited with Mary Jane and the dialogue clearly conveys that he informed her what happened off-panel.

Furthermore, in the one shot ‘Soul of the Hunter’ Peter deals with some of the aftermath from ‘Kraven’s Last Hunt’. Specifically he believes he has seen Kraven the Hunter’s ghost. After this encounter Peter’s told MJ what happened, further proving my point. However, his dialogue also implies he regularly confides in her or feels obliged to be honest with her.

Additionally, as discussed last time, off-panel he obviously must’ve told MJ that he confirmed Mysterio’s death.

For the sake of argument though let’s say Peter didn’t elaborate. That being the case, then Mary Jane would’ve likely asked for a little more information.

Peter’s nearly died countless times before and during their separation. But on this specific occasion he was prompted to seek her out. Why? What was so special about this time?

Let’s remember MJ has studied psychology and worked as an actress, both of which entail a healthy dose of inquisitiveness.*

She also has a knack for getting in Peter’s head. This fact was stated and demonstrated as far back as Spec #85 (if not earlier).

Another example of this skill can be found in the ‘Soul of the Hunter’ one shot. In this story MJ recognizes Peter’s guilt and trauma over what Kraven did to him and the hunter’s consequent suicide.

In her younger days MJ also had a curiosity regarding Peter after she initially learned he was Spider-Man. In Untold Tales of Spider-Man #16 displayed this acutely, depicting MJ even following Spidey on one of his adventures.

More poignantly let’s put ourselves in MJ’s shoes for the moment.

The love of your life just randomly showed up at your home, proclaimed they nearly died and now wants to get back together after years apart.

Wouldn’t you  want some more details? Wouldn’t scepticism or basic curiosity or concern lead you to discover more?

But let’s severely stretch the suspensions of disbelief. Let’s say that at no point did she nor Peter talk about what led to their reconciliation. Even accepting that, surely Mary Jane would’ve heard about Mysterio’s involvement.

Super powered people are hot news in general. Peter for example was able to reliably make money from selling Spider-Man photos for years. In Mysterio’s case, he was one of the few costumed criminals who actively designed his look and schemes to be attention grabbing. It was pivotal to his plan back in ASM #13 and his entire life has been built around a desire to put on a show and be centre stage.

More importantly, the sheer scale of his crime and the number of heroes involved in combatting it (which included ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’) would’ve been serious news. It would’ve been covered by pretty much any news service Mary Jane cared to consult. That’s not even mentioning just general conversation occurring around MJ during her daily routine.

Basically osmosis would ensure MJ learned of Mysterio’s involvement.

That’d be especially true considering he is a villain she, her lover, her friends and her family have had direct dealings with. If it were Moses Magnum she’d have still found out about it. But to say she would’ve remained in the dark when it was specifically one of Peter’s enemies is ridiculous.

Within MJ’s memory Mysterio isn’t a villain who’d simply be lost in the sea of freaks and weirdos Peter combats. He’d stand out even among them due to various factors:

His duels with Spidey. Spider-Man has battled a lot of costumed villains but when you look at his history he doesn’t actually fight all that many repeatedly. The ones that he does amount to just over two-dozen. It basically amounts to most (but not all) of the villains introduced in the first 50 issues plus several few others, most notably Venom, Carnage, Hobgoblin and Jackal.

His bizarre appearance. Mysterio designed it specifically to be attention grabbing and even amongst Spidey’s regular rogues it’s the most baffling. He wears a fishbowl for a head!

His involvement acts of public terror. These include his TV message from ASM #66 and ‘Ends of the Earth’. The latter was probably the single most global scheme any of Peter’s villains have ever participated in and a highly publicised affair. In fact all six of the villains involved in that would realistically stand out in most anybody’s mind!

The regularity of his fights with Spidey. Mysterio isn’t the Big Wheel or the Hypno-Hustler. He’s one of just over two-dozen foes Peter regularly tangles with.

His personally targeting MJ and her loved ones. MJ was abducted by Mysterio (remember she didn’t know it was actually Berkhart) and lived a fake life as a result. One of MJ’s mother figures had her death faked by Mysterio, which broke the heart of her beloved Aunt Anna. The love of her life was framed by Mysterio early in his career and had his sense of sanity and confidence attacked by him, not to mention his workplace (see FNSM #12). If you wish to count it, Mysterio also faked the death of her ex-boyfriend and long time friend Harry Osborn.

His actions violent actions in ‘Guardian Devil’. Even if one argues MJ only knew what she heard on the news the extreme level of violence Mysterio engaged in was unusual for one of Peter’s foes. The Goblins or the symbiotes might do stuff like that, but most of Peter’s other foes aren’t nearly as bloody as Mysterio was in that story. In fact Mysterio himself hadn’t been prior to that so this would’ve been a surprise. As such this would very likely stick in MJ’s mind on some level.

His suicide. Arguably above anything else he’d done, Beck’s suicide would’ve made him stand out amongst Peter’s foes. Few of Peter’s major enemies have seemingly definitively died and only 3 could be said to have done so by taking their own lives. Considering how Mary Jane isn’t going to be forgetting Kraven in a hurry someone intentionally copying him is inevitably going to stick out to her.

All of which is to say that MJ isn’t going to lose track of who Beck is. She isn’t going to treat him as simply another costumed creep in a city chock full of them.

He might not stick out in her mind in the same ways (or to the same degree) as some of Peter’s other foes. But he’d definitely be among the foes that would stand out to her.

Heading for Hollywood

The fallout of Mysterio’s ‘invasion’ was chronicled in a back-up story in ASM v5 #1, wherein he stands trial. This further proves how serious and public his crime was. But it’s relevance lies in how it contextualizes Beck’s actions going into AMJ.

Mysterio is represented by lawyer Janice Lincoln (secretly a super villainess herself) who tries to get him a lighter sentence on the grounds of insanity.

Abruptly though, everyone (sans Beck) seemingly die as the courtroom is transformed into a nightmarish sight. Mysterio is then confronted by a powerful and demonic figure (eventually referred to as Kindred). 

Their consequent conversation heavily implies that following his suicide in ‘Guardian Devil’ Mysterio went to Hell, was recruited by Kindred and resurrected to fulfil a mission on his behalf (the specifics aren’t clarified).

This mission is part of a larger campaign against Spider-Man, whose secret identity both Kindred and Beck are aware of. In fact Beck’s staged alien invasion was intended to dispense with the collected heroes on Kindred’s behalf.

Kindred gave Mysterio one more chance and Beck suddenly found himself back in the courtroom as though nothing had happened. 

Convinced of his insanity he was sent to the Ravencroft institute for insane super villains, which is where we find him next in ASM v5 #24-25.

In these issues, we discover that Beck has manipulated his psychiatrist (Dr. Winhorst) into believing he is in fact Mysterio. At the same time Beck has readopted his guise and Dr. Rinehart. As Rinehart, Beck further manipulated Winhorst (dressed as Mysterio) into having a therapy session and nearly revealing Kindred’s real identity. This prompted Kindred to appear and murder Winhorst.

As Rinehart, Beck gave a statement to the police regarding ‘Mysterio’s’ death. This confirmed that the authorities had found a body and at least at that point in time believed it to be the real Mysterio. Since Beck has faked people’s deaths before (including his own) it is entirely plausible that he had the means to fool their methods of verifying the identity of the body. This would be the case even if the authorities used Marvel universe pseudoscience.

However the story never confirms if Mysterio’s death became public knowledge, the police may well have been keeping it quiet as they investigate further.

These are factors to bear in mind when we go forward.

Kindred catches up to Beck and reveals he is fully aware of the attempted deception. He chastises Beck for failing to fulfil his mission for him. Kindred admits though that had Beck done as he was asked he’d have been returned to Hell. 

Instead of punishing him though Kindred instead produces a film script Beck wrote. He suggests that in his remaining time alive Beck fulfil his life’s dream and make the film a reality. His rationale for this is that Beck’s goals align with his. 

Specifically that in giving Beck what he wants it will somehow deny something to someone else Kindred has a vendetta against. This leaves Beck confused.

In this same issue the new Electro takes an acquaintance of Mary Jane’s hostage and threatens to kill her on social media. Using her acting skills to deceive and distract Electro, Mary Jane manages to rescue her ‘friend’. Her social media performance is lauded and swiftly followed by her old agent contacting her and offering her a role in a new movie by a new writer/director, one who asked for her by name. This is of course Mysterio.

In ASM v5 #29 we see MJ rehearsing the script with Peter, as I mentioned earlier in this essay series. Something else to take note of though is that MJ and Peter mutually praise the script.

Anyway, as the issue proceeds Peter is divided about MJ’s departure. He wants her to be happy and pursue her career but also doesn’t want to lose her (again). Unfortunately Spider-Man business crops up causing him to miss her departure for L.A. There are no hard feelings and the couple are committed to maintaining a temporarily long-distance relationship. Nevertheless, this saddens Peter as we learn he was hoping to propose to Mary Jane.

I bring this issue up because it is not only directly continued in AMJ #1 but it provides potentially important context for our analysis of Beck moving forward.

Beck is making this movie for himself. However, he is fully aware his dangerous demonic overlord wants  him to and has a vendetta against Spider-Man; whom Beck also knows is Peter Parker.

Kindred claimed that by allowing Beck to make his movie he’d be denying someone something they want. It is extremely likely that this ‘someone’ is Peter and the ‘something’ being denied is Mary Jane. This is evidenced by Kindred’s portrayal up to this point coupled with the sadness MJ’s departure caused to Peter.

What is a little more debatable is if Mysterio personally wanted MJ in his movie or if he requested her presence on Kindred’s orders. There is no on panel evidence of the latter and Mysterio’s confusion in ASM v5 #25 implies he doesn’t understand how making the movie will help Kindred.

On the other hand Beck is not unintelligent so if he knows Pete is Spidey and that Kindred is targeting him then it’s unlikely he couldn’t deduce Kindred’s meaning. After all, its unlikely that Beck wouldn’t do a little homework and found out the man who famously took photos of Spider-Man also had a long romance with the actress/supermodel Mary Jane Watson.

Furthermore there seems to be little rationale as to why Beck would want Mary Jane in his movie other than due to her connection to Spider-Man. Her acting credits are small and wouldn’t be all that impressive in his eyes. This supports the idea that MJ’s inclusion in the movie was due to Kindred not Beck. Or perhaps her involvement was something Beck wanted but that was due to her connection with Spidey, making her a pawn in his scheme.

Regardless, Mysterio likely knows MJ’s involvement plays heavily into what Kindred wants, even if he hypothetically doesn’t know exactly how. This makes his insistence upon using her unethical and his lack of honesty dangerous to her and her loved ones.

That just about brings us up to speed on Mysterio. Now we’re ready to truly get into the meat of the matter starting with Amazing Mary Jane #1.

*It could be argued this is the rationale behind making her a journalist in other continuities such as the Ultimate Universe or the Gamerverse.

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#Amazing Mary Jane #Mysterio #Quentin Beck #mjwatsonedit #mary jane watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #MJ Watson #Leah Williams #spider-man #peter parker #Brand New Day #Dan Slott #Doctor Octopus #otto octavi #nick spencer #Avengers #Guardians of the Galaxy #Sinister Six

[girlwithwolftatoo]

Naked: a Joker fanfiction

Title: Naked.

Summary: Violet finds Arthur in one of his worst moments, and he has something to think about it.

Words: 1,669.

(This is the continue of Handkerchief )

She stared at the washing machine door, where the white bubbles and fabrics made their calmed dancing to purify their bodies once again, almost kneeling like a prayer as the other costumers passed by with their baskets of dried clothes without giving a single look at the girl.

Laundry day was her favorite time of the week for she was free, free of the oppressive home atmosphere, free of the loud school babbling and also, free to keep the change for the laundry service. As she observed the machine stopping its dance and the mixture of jeans, jackets and socks falling on the bottom, the music in her head also stopped; Paul Anka wasn’t his favorite artist, but his famous tune had been following her since that unfaithful night when her mother broke almost broke her nose, and since then it was one of the few happy thoughts that kept Violet out of the rising riot and violence of the city and her life.

She put the clothing on a basket and went to the dryer, placing piece by piece carefully and making a mental list so won’t lost another sock. A square-designed little fabric was reached by her fingers and she smiled at it before putting it carefully over the rest of the clothes, oh she made a huge effort to vanish the bloodstains from it, submerging the handkerchief in hot water and baking soda as she used to do when period stained her already damaged undies as the radio announced the “Complacency hour with Jonathan Maine, make a call and we’ll put your tunes” as the little device chanted from the highest of the kitchen shelf.

After the drying was complete, she left the basket on the counter and, the clothing already kept in her school backpack, she walked back home muttering for herself:

“Put your head on my shoulder, hold me in your arms, baby…”

…

Her mother was wasted at the time she arrived, dropping her purse at the floor and staring at Violet –who was making dinner with the radio on as “Laughter in the rain” was playing –.

“Please turn it off, my head’s about to explode” Mrs. Martinez said to her daughter as she sat on the couch and turned the T.V on. Violet heard Neil Sekada happily singing “Oh, how I love the rainy days…” before approaching her progenitor.

“Is everything fine, mama?” she asked. As the only answer her mother shook her head and put a hand on the half of her face.

“I’m getting sick, and not by the bastards who come and try to rob the restaurant… I walked all the way from the bus stop to here with this titling pain, could you please go to the pharmacy and get me an aspirin?”

Violet nodded and searched for the money purse, put her sweatshirt on and left the apartment as the jingle of batteries commercial started to play. It wasn’t rain outside after all, but the remains of the last one kept the atmosphere in this icy cold Gotham used to have, even in the spring days, and she danced and jumped to avoid the ponds all her way to the pharmacy.

The way back was less enthusiastic, some street lights stop functioning and the roads became darker and lonely; Violet knew, as every other citizen of that part of Gotham she should be careful even at daylight, so her hand tightened around the coin purse and the plastic bag the apothecary gave for the aspirins and kept walking… Until she heard some hurried steps right behind her.

She drained herself behind the shade of a dump, eyes wide open to see where the sound came from; a large shadow traveled through the wet floor and it grew smaller as their owner rushed on the corridor. A man running a few meters from Violet’s view was the reason of the noise, running as his life depended of it with a pair of clown shoes which made the image awkward and mesmerizing at the same time; Violet followed the man’s race to a public bathroom, a bag swinging from his right hand like a crazy and the clown pants made with a square-printed fabric. The clothing design seemed familiar, and it wasn’t until a dirty light illuminated his face she recognized him.

Arthur Fleck was running on that silent alley like the devil was hot on his heels, his face splattered on clown makeup and then locked himself into the bathroom without giving a glance at the street. It was so strange Violet came out her hideaway and walked to the bathroom, her fist grabbing the bag and purse with unnecessary strength.

She didn’t dared to knock, and just stayed there, waiting in silence until the door finally opened. Arthur walked out and his eyes traveled to his sides, finding Violet’s face a few inches of the door. He stood up, staring at the creature in silence, his eyes shining bright behind the blue and white painting, the blood already drying on his nose and lips, his hands trembling at the sight of a (witness) person whom eyes seemed to have a lot of questions, everyone of them worse than the previous.

An immediate thought came into his mind. He still had the weapon on his pocket, empty but as menacing as it was in the subway, what if that lonely young girl could notice he was carrying it, could she smell the smoke of the canyon, could she notice the stains of gunpowder on his hand? What if she find his estate so triggering she called the police? Who would take care of his mother, where they were going to take him, lock him for the rest of his life?

“Mister Fleck…” Violet murmured, the brown eyes meeting the blue ones, innocent and caring “Are you okay?”

A kind of balloon deflated inside his chest, those eyes weren’t made to lie and even in the gloom he saw purity in them, and the face who held those eyes wasn’t less pure. He knew that girl, where she was from? A memory of an empty corridor with a man and a dark haired creature tripping on the floor with a bleeding nose started to take form in his mind… and he felt the cold, the weather was casting a silent threat on them.

“Go home” he said to Violet before turning his head and keep his walk. Violet’s eyes fluttered and went right behind him in silence, a road so short that felt like eternity when the two silhouettes crossed it back to the apartments building, Arthur’s hand stretching around the bag’s straps, Violet’s doing the same with the plastic bag, feeling like the man’s presence was enough to change the environment. It was getting colder, yes, but as she chased his shadow it seemed like the cold wouldn’t hurt her, as long as Arthur was walking and she was following him.

They entered the building, Violet thought he would check on his mailbox as always but he didn’t, he kept walking to the emergency stairs as he has forgotten about the elevator existence, his grimace was enough to give the girl a bad feeling and she wanted to say something more, but didn’t know what to say. She thought of Arthur as a good, yet lonely and shy man, but that face was claiming something more, something dark and twisted and she felt… fear.

And then, when Arthur was on the sixth step, his body twitched back and faced Violet without bating an eyelash. Of course she knew that girl, he thought, she was a neighbor living three doors from his own, a few nights ago she collided against him by accident as she was escaping… her nose was bleeding so hard he gave her something to clean it up, but not because he thought she needed a napkin, but because she seemed like she needed someone who cared, someone who looked at the blood an her concerned and hurt face and made something about it. Everything on her was yelling for help that night, her eyes and her silent cry, her lips and her hands who failed to cover her shame.

Then, Arthur thought of her being naked. His eyes scanned Violet up and down, imagining the curves hidden by the oversized sweatshirt and the old skirt, thinking of how the color of her skin would be damaged, like a vandalized painting, by the signs of bruises, all that yellow and purple sputtered on the flesh like a vicious decorating print, her kneels scrapped by the constant falling when a fist, a hand or an improvised weapon made their travel to her face, maybe some fingerprints around the wrists and arms, some old wounds which were cured but still visible everytime she took off her clothes, a silent memory of the cruelty and loneliness people like she and him where abandoned to. He wanted to put his hands on that wounds, caress them, press them softly to no make more damage, because those wounds in a different body would be more real than his, and will make him sure he wasn’t just a picture on someone’s wall or even less than that, he would be as real as that wounds, as the blood coming from the girl’s nose.

For a moment, Arthur thought come back and grab Violet by the shoulders, his grip tightened around them until she screamed in pain just to make sure everything was real, but as he gave a step back on the stairs he returned to reality. No, he wouldn’t do that, he already broke three lives and, besides, that girl was just staring, looking at him. Perhaps she wanted to feel something real too.

He shook his head and walked away. Violet’s arms lifted and embrace her chest. For a horrible moment she thought she saw a shadow darkening Arthur’s eyes, as if he was thinking something awful and insane.

#joker 2019 #joker fanfiction #joker x reader #joker x OC #arthur fleck x OC #arthur fleck x reader #fanfiction #female OC

[thiswasinevitableid]

Grave Danger

The prompt for the 26th was: Graveyard Shift.

This is set in what’s basically a reverse!AU. It is not suitable for work.

Barclay shouldn’t be out here. 

Not in the “he’s going to get in trouble if he’s caught” way. In the “if the world was fair, he wouldn’t be doing a graveyard shift  in a literal graveyard” way.

But the network demands more episodes of “Chasing Bigfoot” and unless he wants to be fired and broke, he must deliver them. It’s not that he completely hates his job; the money pays the rent, paid for top surgery, half-paid for phallo, and sometimes nets him fans who are actually interested in the science of investigating the unknown rather than night-vision camera footage of blurry objects. But much of the fanbase loves that second category.

That’s why he’s here in Kepler, WV, investigating a viral Bigfoot sighting (Barclay is 95% sure that the video is someone in a Chewbacca costume). That’s why he’s staying at the Amnesty Lodge, still slightly visible down the hill and through the trees. 

The Lodge is actually the best part of this whole trip. The residents were wary of him at first, but they’ve been warming up to him.

And there’s one in particular that he’d love to warm up. Joseph Stern, blue eyed and dark haired, fastidious and charming. Barclay’s done his best to flirt with the other man, but so far has gotten only to the point of a casual friendship.

He sighs, adjusts the settings on his camera. It’s a tiny, handheld one, as the ratings suggest that audiences love grainy, shaky footage of him being out in the woods at night. Or a graveyard. Specifically, a graveyard where earlier in the day he’d spotted some footprints that were really, really weird. He loves cryptozoology, even if he knows much of it is faked, and he’d love to be the one to finally find proof of previously unknown species. 

Bushes rustle further up the hill, and he hops the run-down stone wall at the edge of the cemetary to investigate. It’s probably just a deer, but it might make for some decent B-Roll.

He ducks under branches, looking through the viewfinder as he enters a small clearing.

A huge shape, covered in black fur, is surveying the ground. It raises its head up, then stands on its hind legs.

A werewolf. An honest to fucking god werewolf. 

This is amazing. This is going to make his whole career. He can make millions, he can retire from this shitty show, can open his own restaurant, just as soon as he sells this footage of, of….

Of a werewolf looking directly at him, eyes glinting in the moonlight. 

It growls and, without thinking, he runs. The creature howls once, then gives chase. 

He doesn’t even make it ten yards. Strong claws connect with his back and knock him to the ground. Ripping fabric and short, aggravated growls fill the air as the monster paws at him, rolling him this way and that. He curls in on himself, protecting the camera and his vital organs.

“Where is it?” The wolf snarls in his ear. 

“Wh-where is what?”

“The camera.”

“I, it’s.” Another growl, a clawed hand tightening on the back of his neck and he realizes that even if he hands the camera over, he’s a dead man if he doesn’t get away from this thing first.

“I don’t have a camera, so fuck off.” He kicks his foot back, catching the wolf in the ribs, and starts crawling away. It yelps, grabs his ankle and drags him back. He throws an elbow, gets his wrists pinned beneath one massive paw for his trouble. 

“Give. Me. the. Camera.”

With mounting terror, he understands that a fight would be pointless.

“Inside pocket of my jacket. Please” the werewolf flips him over, rifles under his coat, “please, just take it and let me go. I, I really don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die as some z-list reality star, I haven’t even gotten to ask the cute guy at the lodge out yet.”

The werewolf, camera in hand, blinks at him, “cute guy?”

“Uh huh, uh, he’s, he’s sorta the manager of the place, he listens to me when I talk about foodie stuff and my dream restaurant, and he’s really funny and I, I really like him, and I wanna ask him out, which I can’t do if you eat me, and uh-”

“If you wanted to ask him, why haven’t you?” The werewolf crosses it’s arms, sitting back on its heels. The disapproving look on its face has him stammering to explain himself. 

“Be-cause I, um, I’m not totally sure how he feels about me. Sometimes he’s really friendly and flirty, then he gets kinda stand-offish. I just don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around me. But if you don’t kill me, I swear I’ll ask him to dinner, first thing tomorrow.”

“That won’t be necessary.” The wolf leans closer, grinning.

“Fuck.” Barclay squeaks out, shutting his eyes because he really doesn’t want to see his organs leave his body.

The clawed hand cups his chin. 

“Look at me, Barclay.” The command is quiet.

He does, peeking out from his lashes to see the wolf gazing at him with clever, blue eyes. 

“Stern?”

The wolf nods, but doesn’t let go of his chin. 

“Are you gonna kill me?”

Stern lets go and sighs, prolonged and put-upon, “No, I’m not. I just needed to get this” he holds up the camera, “and there’s really no way to chase someone in this form that doesn’t make them think I want to eat them. But I couldn’t risk you getting away and someone seeing that footage. I never wanted to hurt you, or even frighten you.”

“But aren’t werewolves supposed to be, like, mindless killers when they transform?”

That disapproving look is back, “In pop culture, yes. In reality, no. And we don’t need the moon to transform either. We just look like this.” He gazes at Barclay, fangs showing in a smile, “Now, do you have something you want to ask me?”

Barclays brain stalls out and Sterns shoulders fall, his ears flatten, and he stares at the forest floor.

“It’s alright if you’re not interested in me after learning what I am. I understand.” He says softly. Barclay recognizes the way his face struggles to stay neutral; he’s seen it happen a few times when the other man got bad news.  It’s odd, seeing Sterns mannerisms mapped onto such an intimidating form. 

Odd, but endearing.

Barclay reaches out, touches his fingers to Sterns left arm.

“Hey.”

Stern looks at him, ears perking up.

“You wanna grab dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Yes.” He takes Barclays hand in both of his, fur lush and radiating warmth, “I kept hoping you’d ask, even if I knew it was better that you didn’t get too close to me.”

“Because of the whole werewolf thing?”

“In a way. Me being like this is part of something...much bigger. And Mama and I, we have to be careful about what  people find out about Kepler and the lodge. It’s our job to keep them safe. Having someone whose whole job is finding monsters learn the truth is an immense risk. So even though I was, er, am attracted to you, I knew it was best to steer clear. Unfortunately, my heart didn’t get the memo.”

“Aw, babe.” Barclay draws his other hand down Sterns cheek. 

“I do wish we’d been able to clear the air some other way.”

“You wish? I’m the one who thought I was gonna be torn apart.” Barclay teases.

“I’m sorry. If I had my enchantment on, I’d offer an apology kiss.” Then he grins, leans forward, and nuzzles the crook of Barclays neck. Barclay snickers, then full-on laughs when his tongue darts out.

“What’s so funny?” He does it again.

“It kinda tickles, and it, uh, it feels nice AHhey.” He laughs harder as Stern continues snuffling and licking at him, one arm looping around his waist.

“I do sincerely apologize for such poor customer service.” 

“Gonna ah!, ha, leave you a bad yelp review.” He does his best to wrap his arms around Sterns shoulders.

“Oh no, the horror.” Stern deadpans, nuzzling his cheek. Barclay absentmindedly scratches the thick, dark fur on the back of his neck. Stern is sleeker than most depictions of werewolves he’s seen, and that combined with his coloration makes him striking to behold.

“You never had a bunch of people mad at you online have you-what’s that noise?”

“Ah, well, um.”

“Is your tail-?”

“Please don’t say wagging. It’s just a physical expression of the fact that I feel good.”

“That so?” Barclay scritches the same spot and the soft thumping increases, so he skates his nails over Sterns shoulders and down his chest. He presses them down firmer on the next pass. 

Stern growls; a guttural, terrifying noise.

But in place of terror, something hot and dark Barclay’s his system and he freezes.

Stern pulls back, “I’m so sorry, that noise can be really unnerving, it’s mostly a reflex.”

“Unnerving. Right.” 

Sterns eyes go wide, and his nose is once again against Barclays throat. He sniffs, hot breath raising goosebumps on his skin.

“Barclay, would you like to know something else about this form?” He murmurs. 

“Sure.” 

“My sense of smell is extremely good. And I can pick up on things like fear. And….” one claw trails gently on Barclays stomach, “arousal. I sense that second feeling coming off you. Am I picking up the right thing?”

“Uh huh. I gotta be honest babe, this is the horniest and the most confused I’ve been in awhile.”

“I’m a bit surprised myself.” He’s rubbing his hands along Barclays arms, comfortingly, “And if you’re not interested, or need more time to adjust, say the word and I’ll back off.”

“And if I want you to, uh, keep going?”

Another growl and he’s flat on his back, Stern looming over him, teeth bared. He tries to move, finds he can’t as strong, clawed fingers dig into his shoulders. 

“Fucking-A, that’s hot.”

Sterns’ laugh is deeper than normal, but it’s still bright and happy when he stares adoringly down at Barclay. 

“Do you like being my prey?”

“Now that I know you’re not actually gonna eat me? Yes.”

“Mmmmmm” Stern traces a clawtip along Barclays lips, then down his throat, which he bears as he arches his back, “Glad to hear it, even if it means I owe Duck ten dollars.”

“What? Ohfuck.” Stern drags his tongue along Barclays collarbone as he rather daintily undoes his shirt.

“We were all relaxing one night and there was some, um, speculation as to how various people we know are in bed. I maintained that you might like being the dominant one, since you’re so gentle normally and could enjoy the chance to cut loose. Duck insisted you “look like you wanted me to bend you over and make you cry.”

“Holy fuck.”

“Duck can be rather blue.” Stern zig-zags the very tip of a claw down his chest

“Is he, shit, also fucking psychic?”

“No, though he can see the future and, wait, oh, oh of course” he shakes his head, “he looked at the future to see what you’d be into.”

Barclay’s about to ask why Stern makes bets with someone who can see the future when Stern growls again, dropping down and rolling his hips against him. Paws his legs lovingly, licks and nips at his chest.

“That, oh fuck, that feels so good babe, just don’t go turning me into a werewolf.”

“That’s not how it actually works.” Stern huffs. 

“Uh huh, sure. Maybe I’ll just-” He sinks his teeth into Sterns upper arm. There’s a snarl, and Barclay is flipped onto his stomach. He moans, tucking his knees underneath him.

“Look at you, putting your ass in the air for me like a good boy.”

“Joseph” He whispers. 

“I’m right here, don’t worry. I’m going to make such good use of you, I’ll make you feel so good.” The barest hint of teeth brush his neck, Stern surrounding him on all sides, warm and heavy. He feels safer than he has in years.

“Undo your jeans.” He’s gripping Barclays hips.

Barclay obeys, and they’re quickly yanked down to his knees, taking his boxers with them.

“Now” something slick and solid teases at his ass, “in case it isn’t obvious, there is no way this is fitting without some serious preparation. So, you won’t be getting it that way tonight.”

Barclay whines. Claws clamp down on his neck, “That is not negotiable, no matter how badly we both want it. Spread your legs.”

Barclay does his best, is rewarded by Stern stroking his hair, growling softly, “good boy.”

A cock, thick and already sticky with pre-cum, slides between his thighs.

“Close them.”

He does, and this time a strong arm slips beneath him. When Sterns hand circles his cock, he whimpers, pushing back instinctively. Stern gives a sharp growl.

“That’s it. Oh lord it’s wonderful, having you underneath me like this. Maybe we should just stay like this. I could hold you this way all night.”

“Joseph, baby, please, I’ll do anything, just move.”

The grip on his cock tightens. 

“You’re not the one giving the orders, Barclay. Remember that.” Stern nuzzles his ear, voice dripping with menace. 

“S-sorry, fuckfuck” he pulls up fistfulls of dirt as Stern pounds against him, the movement of his thrusts forcing Barclay to fuck into his fist over and over again. He gasps when finds Sterns cock is long enough to brush his own as he fucks his thighs. 

“See, I was right not to try to shove that into this” he paws Barclays ass.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Barclay chants in time with the movement of Sterns hips. 

“Say it” 

“You, you were right, you’re always right, I’ll listen to you for the rest of my life because of how right you are, shit, shit.”

“That’s right, you will. Because you like having someone who could tear you to shreds do this instead.” 

The pressure on Barclays cock is the best kind of too-tight, Stern thumbing at the tip relentlessly. It’s efficient, calculated, so very Stern.

“Oh yeah, fuck that feels good, babe, gahfuck, where did you learn to give such an amazing handjo-ohhhhshit.” He thumps his fist on the ground as he comes, trying and failing to bury the whimper he makes as Stern refuses to stop fucking him.

The hand that moments ago was jacking him off settles by his head as Stern hunches further forward, chin resting on Barclays shoulder as the jerks his hips. The precision is waning, the thrusts between his thighs growing ragged and stuttery. 

Stern pants in his ear, “You’re taking me so well, your thighs feel delicious, nnh, I cannot wait to fuck your ass, I cannot wait to make you scream.” His voice is stuck in a deep growl and he mouths at Barclays skin hungrily. 

“Whatever you want, babe.” Barclay says dreamily, resting his hand atop Sterns own, leaves crunching as he does. 

“That’s right, whatever I want, because you are mine, all mine, and I cannot believe it, ohlord, yesyes.” He thrusts as far as he can, the thick, flared base of his cock pushing through Barclays legs for the first time. Come spurts on Barclays belly, drips down his thighs, as Stern holds him close, growls giving way to higher, sweeter sounds. 

They collapse onto their sides, still tangled together. Barclay manages to turn, bring them face to face. Stern is grinning at him, claws coming up to carefully brush his hair from his face, and there’s the tell-tale thwup-thwup of his tail on the ground. 

“Well, that was a first.” 

“Never fucked a human before?”

“No, not that part. You, ah, you called” his voice goes shy, “you called me babe. Not really a pet name I’d ever thought someone would use on me when I looked like this.”

“Does it bug you?”

“Not at all.” He brings Barclays right palm up to his face and nuzzles it, then catches sight of his appearance, “oh dear, we should get back to the lodge so you can clean up before that...hardens.”

They pick their way back through the trees, unseen, and slip through the back door. When they reach Sterns room, Barclay strips off his dirty clothes and Stern picks up a small necklace. As soon as he puts it on, it’s now a purely human face that smiles at the other man. 

“I don’t usually forget it when I go out on a scouting mission. It just slipped my mind this time. Careless, really.”

“Dunno, think it worked out pretty well. Oh, here” Barclay takes the camera, pops out the chip and hands it to Stern, “that’s all the footage of you I got. Plus, like, some B-roll that I can retake tomorrow.”

Stern takes it, kisses his cheek, which turns into a tender, promising kiss on the lips. Reluctantly, Barclay breaks away to go shower. When he returns, Stern is in a set of matching, X-Files patterned pajamas, reading. He flips open the covers and Barclay crawls beneath them, the silk of the pajamas wonderfully cool against his bare skin as Stern nestles in his arms. 

“I must say, it is nice to find someone who’s bigger than me in at least one form. It makes for excellent cuddling.”

“Glad to be of service.” Barclay rests his cheek on Sterns forehead, “you still wanna go out tomorrow night?”

“Of course. Though I request that any fucking take place in my nice comfy bed. I keep finding leaves stuck in odd places.”

“You got a deal.”

“And, if you like and Mama is comfortable with you learning more about the lodge, I think I may know where you could find work as chef. Since it’s apparent to anyone who talks to you for more than five minutes that’s your true calling.”

“That’d be amazing.”

A final, sweet kiss. 

“Goodnight, Barclay.”

“Goodnight. Babe.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #promptober #werewolves #reverse!au #TAZ Amnesty #trans Barclay

[alitheamateur]

Special Delivery

Warnings: Language, because well, Colton Ritter’s mouth.

Summary: Colton Ritter hates birthdays. Always has, and was determined he always would. His wife, however, cheeky with her newlywed bright ideas, makes it her mission to change his mind with a special birthday delivery.

A/N: I swear to you, the second part of The Grind-A Wedding is coming! But, sense it doesn't seem to be falling into place as quickly as I would like, I wanted to try and spread a little reward for my readers and their patience!

(gif not mine)

Colton Ritter was a bear about birthdays.

Was it the bitter swallow of becoming another year older? The fear that with age, would come the fizzle of his talents and abilities inside the cage? Was his ego simply weak to the thoughts of balding?

The reason a mystery, the fact a definitive reality regardless.

He wouldn’t eat cake because of a convenient ‘intermittent fasting’ that I wasn’t aware of until there was suddenly birthday cake involved. I tempted him with ice cream, his favorite, from the grocery store on 5th, and nothing broke his resisting stance.

This year, with a wedding, and a current pregnant under my belt, I was inflexibly determined make him appreciate the joys of a birthday. Knowing going after his sweet tooth was a bust, I let my brain storm, and mull over other ways to get him to finally smile on the 8th of September.

His belly may have been a dead end, but I knew one thirst that Colton could never truly quench.

Me.

One avenue of enjoyment that Colt always enjoyed exploring lie between my hips, and there was no amount of fight he could put up, and win, against it.

The day arrived, and I tested the waters at breakfast with a muffin and a candle for the occasion, only for it to be disregarded altogether when he strolled straight to kiss my neck as I poured his coffee. His pouty, gorilla grunts concluded his still present resentment towards the particular day of the year. I made a call-in to the bakery near the Pilot office before he woke, asking them to wait on standby with my order for a chocolate layered cake had things turned out different at this morning.

He trucked through the front door, gym clothes and a birthday card tucked away inside his duffle, not forgetting our routine morning game of ‘grab-ass’ before he left me to ready for heading into the office.

 We could argue about the singing hallmark surprise over dinner tonight. While he nagged and grumbled about the balloon I planned to pick up on my way home.

I ended the call to the delivery service as I stepped into a hot shower, reiterating that his special birthday gift would be distributed today at 11:00 sharp, right before Colton was due to begin his kickboxing class. I was feeling less than desirable these with the stretches of our baby girl spanning over my belly, and swelling my tender breasts. Newlyweds, we were. And instead of leather garter-belts, and edible underwear, poor Colt was sleeping next to an oversized, less than new t-shirt I refused to let him throw out. He’d never go a day without asserting in every way possible that no matter what condition, my body only furthermore secured my goddess-status in his opinion. The lovemaking was, is, it’s, well clearly, there aren’t enough inappropriate words to illustrate what he does to me beneath the sheets of our bed. But, if a woman doesn’t see it, feel it herself that she’s marvelous, no amount of fervent praises can suffice.

So, this year, I’d give a gift to my newly crowned husband, with every intent to reinvent a love for birthdays, and maybe remind myself that I was fierce. The fiercest in all the land, and the fiend starring Colton Ritter’s wet dreams for the next 75 years.

I twiddled through the copy of an office memo brought to my desk this morning at least 32 times, never absorbing a single line of its contents. Rattling with the clock on my desk, I fiddled with the big hand, checking that it wasn’t indeed frozen in time for the last hour of work. I couldn’t get anything done, eager and dizzy with the apprehensive exhilaration for 11 o’clock to arrive, and Colton’s gift fall into his hands. I reminded the lady from my call this morning repeatedly that only Colton Ritter be responsible, no ifs, ands, or buts.  

  Colton

I hated these fuckin’ birthdays, damn it. I didn’t have a reason. It wasn’t about some suppressed scarring from my childhood because my parents never threw parties, or got me presents. As a matter of fact, Ma went all out with the stupid streamers, and the singing middle-aged men dressed in superhero costumes smelling like vodka. Something in me just hated the reminder that my life was drawing closer to an end. Especially now, since I actually liked the one I had. The one with Livvy, and little my Livvy, due in a few months.

And of course, the evil little minx had to go and remind everyone down at 21 Punches what today was, including Mac who led the stupid birthday song before the door had even shut behind me this morning.

Liv had been a little deflated this morning when I brushed off her subtle hints that she wanted to celebrate the day for me, and the more I stewed on it, the bigger my head grew into a dick. Maybe with her at my side, now as my wife, I should give this whole thing I try? I never want to be the reason her sideways smile fades again.

Just as I was about to tuck my phone into my desk drawer after sending her an apology text for the less-than-grateful behavior earlier, someone rapped a knock on my unlatched office door. I pulled the handle to, confused at the sight of a post-man standing in waiting, and even more confused at the large package tucked under his arm.

“Hey man. You could’ve left that at the front desk, no need for you to carry this shit across the building,” I signed his chipped clipboard.

“Special orders that this be delivered solely into your possession, Mr. Ritter. Have a good one, sir.”

I felt along the hard edges of the package, gently molding my hand around its shape to make sure it wasn’t some gag from one of the fighters on roster for my birthday. There was a tag dangling off the red bow, and I pulled the paper loose, careful to close the door behind me before I opened what was inside.

Happy Birthday, old man.

You only get better with age, my love!

Just a little something for you to look at….

X

Liv

Beautiful, stubborn, and persistent, she was.

I smiled, the way I always do when Liv wrangles me by the balls and just does whatever she damn well pleases whether I like it or not. The crisp paper was neatly creased at the four corners, secured with too much scotch tape for my patience, or lack thereof. So, I simply tore through the middle, short on time, and short on amusement with whatever Liv was playing at.

The image seemed abstract, or obscured initially, but I thought somewhere hidden in the black and white mess I saw long, blonde hair… Shifting the canvas, and tossing the paper in the can of trash beside my desk, my teeth gnawed suddenly.

My eyes instantly alert, and aware at the image before me, and my cock seeming to bust up in and all out hard-on without warning. The slight haze from sunshine beating through the window she looked to, made her glow. White light snuck into every curve of her body, except for the round, need-to-be-bitten curve of her perfect backside, barely covered by the taut lace of her bodysuit lingerie. Her veil grazed the silken, flushed flesh of her arms, and her hair at perfect length hid her angelic face. I touched the picture, wishing I could brush it back and see the soft look of slight, bashful pink on her cheeks, and that heart-shaped gap between her swollen lips. She was an angel caught in front of a lens, with every intention to drag me to the sinful, tight darkness between her thighs. 

This, is how I want to always remember her. Draped in white, goosebumps mounting across her rose-smelling skin, bare. The image captured the essence of where every light in my life came from.

I was moved by the innocence of her sweet, almost timid, oblivious sexiness in front of me. But, the way she was mounted on both of her knees, eyes down like she was waiting to be taken by a dangerous, lethal storm like myself, motivated my insides to painfully pump. Refusing to turn loose of the picture, I searched blindly inside my desk for my cell.

“Hey, birthday boy…” She impishly chided. As if her intent to drive me off the fucking wall with this little delivery of hers wasn’t already clear, the way I could hear her biting her lip as she fiddled with her keyboard secured my assumptions.

“Hey yourself, you little troublemaker.”

Fuck. The giggles… Her laugh was connected with every muscle of control over my dick.

“Troublemaker? I have no absolute idea what you could possibly be referring to, husband of mine.”

“No? So, some other delicious blonde in Pittsburgh with ass for days sent over this glorious fuckin’ photo sitting on my desk right now?”

I heard her gasp as if someone could eavesdrop on the awful things I said to her.

“Okay. Maybe I had a little something to do with that.”

“Oh, I know that for certain, baby. I’ve seen those hands wrapped around me enough to recognize ‘em.”

“Colton Ritter! You know, they say the baby can hear inside the womb. Your poor daughter...” Liv squealed, words on the cusp of a whisper.

“Then I suggest we buy some ear buffs to put over your little belly tonight. I wouldn’t want our girl to hear all the awful things I’m going to have her mommy screamin’.”

“Happy birthday, you sex-crazed pig.”

“I can’t help it my wife is smokin’. And Livvy?” I questioned to her.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. This birthday thing may not be so bad after all now that you’re around.”

TAGS: @miidailyinspiration @torialeysha @mollybegger-blog @eap1935 @littleluna98

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #thegrind #Elizabeth Olsen

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless Part 6/? - Escape at Last Part 7/? - Fox in Socks Part 8/? - Things Go Wrong Part 9/? - Downey and Out Part 10/? - Road Trip Part 11/? - Temptation Part 12/? - An Awful Reunion Part 13/? - Unreality Intrudes Part 14/? - A Call for Help Part 15/? - Loki’s Guests Part 16/? - Stan Lee Cameo Part 17/? - Reassessment

This chapter is mostly things I just thought were funny.

With Bettany and Connelly gone, that left Natasha looking at Downey, still in handcuffs.

“Are you gonna make me promise to stay before you untie me?” he asked plaintively.

Nat thought about it for a moment – or at least pretended to, in order to make him squirm.  “No,” she decided finally, and got to work on his bonds with the cheese knife.

Meanwhile, Loki and Thor were still arguing.  “Why must you ruin everything?” Loki demanded. “Every time something is within my grasp, here comes Thor with his ridiculously costumed friends to take it away from me!”

“Maybe you should stop grasping at things that make you look like a villain!” Thor retorted.  “And I don’t need my friends, costumed or no, to thwart your silly schemes. Jane Foster could do it with no weapon but her Wellington boots!”

“Hey!” the girl in the bandanna barged in between the two men.  “That’s mean!”

“Yeah, why do you have to be like that?” asked the one in the costume.  “Haven’t you figured out yet that he just wants you to love him?”

“It’s not his fault your father lied to him his whole life!” bandanna girl agreed.

“You’re nothing but a big bully with a hammer!” said the one in the raglan.

Loki smiled proudly, arms folded across his chest. “You see?  These mortals understand!  Why should you have a throne, while I do not?”

“If you were worthy of a throne, you would not need to seek validation from teenage girls,” said Thor.

Steve gently steered the three women out from between the arguing brothers.  “You ladies…” he began.

“Chloe,” said the one in the costume, assuming he was asking their names.

“Christine,” said the one in the raglan.

“Wendy,” said the one in the bandanna.

“Your name isn’t really Wendy,” Chloe said.

“Yes, it is,” said Wendy.  “I had it changed.”

“Ladies,” Steve repeated.  “I think you’d better go – this may take a while.”

“But it’s Loki,” Christine protested.  “All this time we thought he was just having fun in character but it’s actually Loki!”

Loki was shaking a finger under Thor’s nose.  “I remind you,” he was saying, “had you not broken the rune stone before I finished programming it, we would be in a proper universe right now, instead of this magic-less nowhere!”

“I remind you,” Thor said, “that if you hadn’t stolen the tesseract and run off, not only would we not have had to come after you, Thanos wouldn’t be looking for you!”

“You still broke it!  You break everything!” Loki said.  “Remember when Mother gave me a toy flying ship big enough to ride?  You said you would play with it for five minutes, and you crashed it into a wall!”

“We were six!” said Thor.  “Are you going to hold that against me the rest of our lives?”

Hayley took Christine’s arm.  “Chris is right,” she said.  “Let’s go.”

Together they escorted the young women to the door and gently but firmly showed them to the elevator, then returned to the hotel room to make sure the door was closed and locked behind them.  Meanwhile, Natasha finished getting Downey out of his cuffs – he thanked her, then sprinted for the exit.  Steve and Hayley moved aside to let him through, but instead of leaving the suite he dashed into the bathroom and didn’t even bother to close the door.  Steve closed it for him, and then he and Hayley stood awkwardly in the little hallway while Thor and Loki argued.

“So, ah…” Hayley looked sideways at Steve.  “You really are Steve Rogers, then?”

“Yes,” said Steve.  “Yes, I am.”

“Did you really come to our Q&A panel just to ask me that question?” she wanted to know.

“Yes,” Steve repeated, then realized that wasn’t true. “No.  I wasn’t going to say anything at first, I just… I wanted to see what you looked like.”

“Surely you knew what I looked like,” said Hayley.

“Yeah,” said Steve.

“Well… I probably ought to apologize,” Hayley said. “I’m sure you were hoping the answer would be a bit more romantic than a scolding.”

Steve shook his head.  “No, don’t apologize.  The scolding was… you’re right, that’s exactly what she would have said.”  She would have cried while she said it, too, but they would have been happy tears.  The future he could have had with Peggy would have been full of happy moments – but he’d denied himself that, because it didn’t feel right that he ought to go home and live happily ever after when Bucky was dead.  Bucky himself would have been the first person to tell Steve that was stupid.

“She never stopped thinking about you,” Hayley added.  “She always thought of you as the love of her life – everything she did, she always tried to live up to your legacy.  I know it probably doesn’t help to hear that, but the fans do love the tragedy.”

Steve wanted to think of something to say in reply, but before he could, there was the sound of a flush.  Water ran, and then Downey came out of the bathroom, zipping up his jeans.

“Okay, that’s done,” he announced.  “Let’s see what’s left of Loki’s dinner.”  Downey went to the dining table and grabbed a leftover roll, taking a bite out of it as if it were an apple.  Then he started picking bits of crab meat out of the remains of a shell.  “Mmm… he likes good food, anyway.”

Natasha came to join Steve and Hayley.  “So much for your romantic moment,” she observed.  “We have to figure out what we’re doing next. If this Stan Lee guy is right and magic can’t help us…” she frowned.  “Hey, Bob?  Who is Stan Lee and why does he know everything?”

Downey made some muffled noises, his mouth full of food.  “Stan Lee? He’s the guy who wrote all the comic books they based your movies on.  Kind of the creator god of your universe.  Whatever he has to say about this mess, my money’s on it being true.”  He stuffed the rest of the roll in his mouth and shook his head.  “Listen to what I’m saying!  It’s finally happened!  I’ve snapped! Just plain lost my mind.  Somebody ask me.”  He pointed at Natasha, Steve, and Hayley.  “Any of you, I don’t care.  Ask me if I’m Tony Stark.”

Steve looked at the women.  They seemed worried.  “Are you Tony Stark?” he tried.

“No!” said Downey, and then sighed with relief. “Okay, good, I’m not that far gone yet.  Susan might still take me back.  I should write this stuff down.  The Russos… no, no,” he shook his head.  “This meta shit is more Joss’ speed.  We can get around to it when we’re done with Avengers: the Musical.  Oh, or better yet!  Wes Craven!” He grinned.

Thor and Loki’s argument was winding down, but it was not quite over yet.  “If we can find a way to return home, I will go with you,” Loki said, “but if we are trapped, it is because of you.”

“We are not trapped,” said Thor.  “The universe is infinite, and all things are possible.”

“Indeed,” said Loki.  “Some things are merely very, very difficult.”

“If we cannot pass between worlds by magic, then we must seek another way,” Thor said reasonably.  “Downey, what do people in this reality know of other universes?”

Downey was stuffing more food in his mouth, including the lettuce leaves the crab claws had been sitting on.  He had to pause to chew and swallow.  “Not much,” he said.  “There are a lot of smart people who say they exist but nobody tries to get there.  NASA’s probably playing with some stuff but I doubt any of it works.”

“NASA?”  Steve perked up.  “Romanov – remember when we had lunch on the film set?  Maddy told one of our co-stars that he had a call from his friend at ‘Actual NASA’.”

“That’s right,” she remembered.  “That’s an ‘in’ we could use.  Have you got his phone number?”

“I don’t know,” said Steve.  “I might.”  He took a look.  Chris and Donny were evidently at least casual friends, since Donny had invited Steve to go bowling with him.  When he flipped through his contacts, however, he couldn’t find a ‘Don’ or ‘Donny’, and he couldn’t remember the man’s last name.  Several of the contacts were identified only by nicknames, but he didn’t want to call them all one by one and ask.

“It’s getting late anyway,” Hayley said.  “Maybe you should stay the night and figure it out in the morning.  You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Downey.  “We could have dinner, too.”

Natasha frowned at him.  “You’re already eating,” he pointed out.

“This is scraps,” Downey said.  “I missed lunch!”

“We can’t just stop, not when there might be an alien invasion at any moment!” Steve protested.  He hadn’t stopped when he was in boot camp, he couldn’t do it now no matter how tired he might be.  If his body were failing him he’d just have to push it harder…

He looked at Thor and Loki, and found Thor yawning.  That was right, wasn’t it?  In this universe, they were all just ordinary human beings – no powers, no enhancements. Captain America could go a couple of days without sleep, Thor probably longer, but these actors had no such abilities. If they were planning to return to their own bodies, which they were, they had a responsibility to keep their borrowed ones in good repair.

So they did stay for dinner.  Downey went through the room service menu and ordered them a great big pepperoni pizza and pasta carbonara, and then demonstrated how to make sandwiches out of it by layering the pasta in between the pizza slices. It was the sort of thing Steve would ordinarily devoured, because his body demanded so many calories.  At the moment, it looked kind of disgusting.  He tried it anyway, as did Thor, while Hayley, Natasha, and Loki all stuck to the pasta and vegetables, which they ate with forks.

“Barbarians,” muttered Loki.

“I’ll give you all a ride back to Los Angeles,” Downey said, “since there’s room in the van and I’ll be going there anyway. I’ll also warn you, if we run into Mark or Tom – the other Tom – don’t tell them anything.  Bruce Banner and Peter Parker can keep secrets, Mark Ruffalo and Tom Holland cannot.”

“Who is Peter Parker?” asked Steve.

Downey paused in his chewing and a moment of terror crossed his face.  “Never mind. I’ve already said too much.”

“It’s the kid in the spider costume,” said Natasha.

“See, now you’ve ruined it,” said Downey.  “What if in a future movie it’s a big plot point that Captain America finds out Spider-Man’s secret identity?  But now he already knows!”

“Then it cannot be a plot point,” Thor said reasonably.  “I’m sure these things allow for themselves.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” said Downey.  “This isn’t the kind of thing where anybody knows how it works.  They put a lot of effort into those scripts, they don’t just write down whatever occurs to them in a dream.  They’re already writing Thor 3 and Avengers 3, and what if the stuff you guys know when you go back changes that?  I mean, would it change the movies, or does your universe diverge from the movies there, or what?”

“Does it matter?” asked Steve, who didn’t want to think about it.  It was one of those things, like time travel, that made his brain feel weird.

“Not really,” said Downey, “but I’m curious. Come on, don’t you have any questions about this mess?”

Steve had one, and it popped out before he could stop himself.  “Did Stark really think the apology letter was douchey?”  It wasn’t something he could ask Stark himself, after all.

“Right now?” Downey asked, shoveling neopolitan ice cream into his mouth.  “I’m pretty sure Tony Stark thinks you’re the douchiest douche ever to not actually be sorry. Like Prince Geoffrey levels of douche.”

“I told you so,” said Natasha.

#fanfic #steve rogers #natasha romanov

[newstfionline]

In Rough Rio de Janeiro Neighborhood, Ballet as ‘Anesthetic’ and Escape

By Ernesto Londoño, NY Times, July 17, 2018

RIO DE JANEIRO--The young ballet students walked into the room with red paint--simulated blood stains--smeared all over their leotards.

It was a macabre costume for girls as young as 7 and 8, performing before the mayor and governor.

To understand why their beloved ballet teacher, Daiana Ferreira de Oliveira, put them in those outfits, it helps to go back to a formative day of her own childhood.

Ms. Oliveira was 6 or 7 when her mother first brought her and her two sisters from their home in an impoverished neighborhood in northern Rio de Janeiro to the majestic Municipal Theater downtown for a production of “Swan Lake.”

The family stood out: a black single mother who made a living cleaning homes, guiding her gobsmacked daughters through crowds of mostly white theatergoers and across the gilded entrance of one of the city’s architectural gems for their first ballet.

Her mother, Rosali Ferreira dos Santos, had developed a fascination with art after tagging along with her bosses to art galleries and the theater. She came to see such outings--to a concert, an opera or a play--as essential for her daughters, whenever she could find free or discounted tickets.

“My mother said we needed to have culture,” Ms. Oliveira, 29, said. “For her it wasn’t a matter of being rich or poor.”

Ms. Oliveira said she could have lived without the opera, recalling being horrified at “all those people screaming at each other.”

But dance dazzled her.

“An anesthetic,” she called it. “For people like us, there were no shrinks.”

Since moving to Rio de Janeiro, I’ve been fascinated--and often startled--by the split-screen reality of this megacity.

I grew up in Colombia, where, as in much of South America, stark inequality is so institutionalized it’s easy to become inured to it. But the way splendor and poverty coexist here in Rio makes for a head-snapping contrast.

A dayslong gun battle that locks down tens of thousands at home doesn’t get in the way of an enormous musical festival a few miles away. From the thronged beaches of Ipanema and Copacabana, it is easy to forget that a severe surge in violence in the city prompted the governor in February to plead for, and get, a military intervention.

In the city’s dizzying spectrum between rapture and despair, Manguinhos, the neighborhood where Ms. Oliveira grew up, leans solidly toward the latter.

It is among the patchwork of districts known as favelas, which were settled by squatters decades ago. Traffickers from the powerful drug gang Comando Vermelho, or Red Command, have held sway in the area for many years, wielding more authority than the police.

It is the kind of place where residents don’t expect homicides will be investigated, never mind solved. Drugs are sold in the open, laid out on tables. Garbage is disposed of by burning small piles at a time on sidewalks.

When Ms. Oliveira earned her degree in physical education in 2012, the situation in Brazil was starting to look up.

The country’s economy had been growing at a healthy clip for a decade. Education opportunities for the poor were expanding. Grand plans were drawn up to establish a permanent police presence in, and deliver basic services to, the favelas, as the country prepared for the 2014 World Cup and the 2016 Summer Olympics.

One of the tangible signs of change was a state-financed library in Manguinhos, where Ms. Oliveira began offering free classical ballet lessons in 2014.

She said she tried to be warm but firm toward her students, warning them about unplanned pregnancies and urging them not to date drug traffickers.

“There is no set destiny,” she would tell the girls and young women. “Just because you were born in a favela does not mean your life needs to play out a certain way. You don’t need to end up working as maids.”

The message resonated with Danice Sales, one of her first students, who went on to study Italian literature.

“It was an escape from reality,” said Ms. Sales, 29. “I went through very hard things in my life and the only thing that allowed me to avoid going on medication and sinking into a deep depression was ballet.”

By 2014, optimism gave way to dread as Brazil’s economy began contracting and a giant corruption investigation exposed a systemic pattern of kickbacks among the country’s political and business leaders. State officials in Rio de Janeiro began shutting down government employment centers and initiatives that had been inaugurated during the boom years.

Among those on the chopping block was the library in Manguinhos, which prompted Ms. Oliveira to take her students to protests in 2015.

She and other community activists persuaded the mayor’s office to help pay the bills by repeatedly raising an uncomfortable question: “How can a country hosting the Olympics shut down libraries?”

But a few months after the Games wrapped up, the library and scores of government programs closed. Ms. Oliveira fumed for a few days. Then she came up with a plan.

With the help of a locksmith who refused to charge her, Ms. Oliveira broke into the abandoned library, cleaned it up and installed her own padlock.

Next, a bit of favela diplomacy was in order. Ms. Oliveira sought out a leader of the Red Command and asked him to spare the library from the ransacking that befell other shuttered government buildings. The trafficker, who respected what she was doing, agreed.

Even as violence worsened, and unemployment grew, dozens of parents continued to bring their daughters, and a few sons, to Ms. Oliveira’s classes.

“It was a way for them to understand the outside world, a world that does not exist here,” said Tatiane Ribeiro Barboza, 40, who has two daughters in the troupe. But the main draw was exposing them to Ms. Oliveira. “They see a woman who has no weaknesses,” she said.

Giovana Xavier, an education professor at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro, said role models in communities like Manguinhos can have a transformative effect on youth.

“A big challenge is building positive references about what it means to be black,” Ms. Xavier said. “The prevailing notions you see in the media are generally limited to criminality, in the case of men, and hypersexualization, in the case of women.”

Earlier this year, word spread around Manguinhos that the library would reopen and that the building would be renamed to honor Marielle Franco, a black City Council member who was assassinated in March.

Ms. Oliveira was less than elated by the news. The library had opened during an election year and now it would be reopening during another one. Politicians always seemed eager to use photos of her troupe during campaigns, she complained, but did nothing to support her after an election.

So when Ms. Oliveira was asked to prepare a special choreography for the reopening ceremony, which would be attended by Rio de Janeiro Governor Luiz Fernando Pezão and Mayor Marcelo Crivella, she decided to give them a photo opportunity to remember.

“I reflected on all that has been taken from us, the violations, the violence, not just physical but psychological,” she said. “Each day it feels like we die a little because each day something is taken from us, be it a book or a plate of food.”

She did not tell officials about the choreography she had planned.

So, flanked by a gaggle of photographers, the mayor and governor looked ashen when the young dancers streamed into the room, with the red splashes of paint on their costumes, and laid on the floor, playing dead.

Pointing her finger angrily, Ms. Oliveira shouted at the officials.

“We are not votes!” she exclaimed. “If the library closes after the election, we will be back here and we will stay put.”

When she was done, she asked the dancers to rise.

“You are not dead,” she told them. “This was just a way of noting that every day here, we’ve been bleeding.”

#Brazil #Rio de Janeiro #Rio favelas #Manguinhos #Brazil ballet teacher

[aion-rsa]

Marvel’s Loki Season 2: The MCU Questions We Need Answered

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The following contains Loki spoilers.

Marvel’s Loki may have only been six episodes, but it was a wild ride from start to finish, reinventing a fan favorite character, wrestling with complex existential questions of free will and fate, and telling one of the franchise’s weirdest love stories to date. Plus, you know, it also managed to entirely rewrite the reality of the Marvel Cinematic Universe as we know it. 

Thankfully, Marvel wasted no time confirming a second season, announcing the show’s renewal in the end credits of the Season 1 finale. (Likely because it was obvious that fans would riot if we weren’t promised some answers to the many questions – both literal and philosophical – that this show raised.) 

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Here are just a few of the things we’re definitely going to need Loki Season 2 to explore.

Where in the Timeline is Loki?

The first season of Loki ends with a jaw-dropping cliffhanger: He Who Remains is dead, the multiverse is reborn, and when Loki returns to the Time Variance Authority he doesn’t find things exactly as he left them. Mobius and B-20 no longer remember him and the three giant statues of the Time Keepers at the TVA have been replaced with a single figure carved in Kang’s image. What in the world is going on here?

One of the first key questions Loki Season 2 will have to answer is precisely where and when this Loki and the TVA even are. Is this the remnants of the Sacred Timeline, rewritten into something new by He Who Remains’ death? Did Renslayer’s actions somehow change the TVA? Or did Sylvie’s temp-pad launch Loki across the multiverse into another world entirely? (Though since the TVA is supposed to exist outside of time and reality, could there even be a second one?) 

Thinking too hard about this is enough to make your head hurt, in the best way possible. 

What’s Next for Sylvie?

When last we saw our favorite female Loki variant Sylvie, she was watching time fracture around her after killing the man she’d spent her entire life trying to find and punish. Where does she possibly go after that? She’s literally changed reality – both for herself and everyone else.

Throughout the series, we’ve seen Sylvie driven by an aggressive single-mindedness. But where does she turn that focus now? Will she try and build the home she’s never been able to have before in one of the new timelines she’s created? Track Loki down in whatever timeline she’s sent him to? Or does she begin seeking out the Kang variants, trying to prove that her decision to essentially create them all doesn’t have to doom the universe the way He Who Remains predicted?

Is Sylvie and Loki’s Romance Doomed?

The season ended with Marvel’s most bizarre romance having their first relationship spat. Of course, for Loki and Sylvie that means literally fighting each other with swords while debating whether the universe deserves free will, all before one kisses and then betrays the other by shoving them through a temporal gateway. Shakespeare says the course of true love did never run smooth, guys. 

What’s next for these two crazy kids is anyone’s guess – as far as we know, Sylvie’s currently still in the castle at the end of time, and Loki’s in…well, Loki’s in a timeline that we haven’t entirely identified yet. How they’ll find their way back to one another in season 2 (because of course they will find their way back to one another in season 2) is anyone’s guess. 

Will Sylvie realize her decision to kill He Who Remains was a mistake? Will she regret kicking off what may well be another multiversal war and seek Loki out to try and fix what she broke? Will Loki try to find her again, in the wake of all that’s happened?

What About All Those Other Versions of Kang?

According to He Who Remains, Sylvie’s choice to kill him would essentially release a veritable army of Kang variants across the multiverse, who will wreak untold havoc and destruction until one essentially takes over again. And that appears to be exactly what has happened, to some extent, given that the statues of the Time Keepers at TVA headquarters have been replaced with a giant Kang figure. But which version of the character that is – or what the other, less benevolent version have done in his name – is up in the air. 

We know that Jonathan Majors is set to play Kang the Conquerer in Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania but that film isn’t set to hit theaters until 2023 and that’s an awfully long time to let the MCU’s new Big Bad sit idle. So it seems safe to assume that we’ll see some version of him pop up in at least one MCU property before then, if not more. 

Where Did Judge Renslayer Go?

When last we saw Judge Renslayer, she seemed determined to prove that her life as a leader of the TVA – and the many morally dubious decisions she made as such – had some sort of meaning, despite the fact that her actions were essentially all performed in service to a group of leaders who didn’t actually exist.

After an emotional confrontation with Mobius, Renslayer escapes in search of “free will,” which as we know in this universe generally means Kang. Whether she finds him, or what happens during her confrontation with whichever version of Kang she meets is unknown, but since Renslayer is Kang’s girlfriend in the comics, it seems safe to assume that she has some hand in the creation of whatever version of the TVA Loki stumbles back into at the end of the finale. 

Why Does the TVA Still Exist?

Throughout Loki Season 1, the TVA was sort of the literal embodiment of the “you had one job” concept. They were meant to patrol and protect the Sacred Timeline, pruning rogue variants and cutting off dangerous branches before they threatened the balance of reality. But now that He Who Remains is dead and there is no Sacred Timeline anymore, then what purpose does the TVA still serve in this new reality? 

Judging by the giant statue of some version of Kang in the lobby, there’s every likelihood that the organization has shifted focus to either battle or track the many variants of the former He Who Remains throughout time and space and may have even been created in this reality by one the the “good” Kang variants. But, it’s also possible that the TVA is still trying, in some small way, to corral or at least organize the multiverse into something where its many branches can somehow peacefully co-exist. 

What’s the Deal with Miss Minutes?

Miss Minutes, the TVA’s cheerful sentient clip art, is one of the most memorable parts of Loki’s first season. Her organizational prowess is clearly unmatched and very little appears to ruffle her determinedly perky attitude.  But we still don’t know much about her, including how she came to exist or what her ultimate goals are. 

Simultaneously helpful and vaguely menacing, it seems clear that she had an agenda of her own throughout the season. But an agenda in service to whom? He Who Remains? Kang the Conqueror? The larger concept of order? And what sort of secrets does she still know?

Is Alligator Loki Okay?

Obviously, a real concern going into Loki Season 2 is the fate of all the other Loki variants we met throughout the season. With He Who Remains dead and the multiverse unleashed, will the other Lokis be able to leave their Void prison and return to their real lives?

Most importantly, is Alligator Loki okay? Are he and Kid Loki striking out on their own now, perhaps to a Disney+ Young Avengers series near you? Loki Season 2 definitely needs to provide us with an update on our favorite reptilian god. 

Could Classic Loki Still Be Alive?

As long as we’re talking about Loki variants, does the rebirth of the multiverse mean that Classic Loki might return in some way? Your mileage may vary on whether or not you think his sacrifice was truly heroic or a heroic piece of misdirection, but we don’t actually know what happens to the variants and timelines gobbled up by Alioth. 

Sure, the other Lokis hinted that to be eaten by the fog monster equals instant death, but this show also spent four full episodes pretending that pruning equals being killed, so trust but verify, is all I’m saying. Plus, Richard E. Grant is just too good an actor not to put back in a classic Loki costume as soon as possible. 

How Will Doctor Strange 2 Impact Loki Season 2?

With reports swirling that Tom Hiddleston will make some sort of appearance in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, it seems likely that the film will impact Loki Season 2 in significant ways. 

Of course, the question of which version of Hiddleston’s Loki we might see in the film – the same one we saw in Loki or some other perhaps as-yet-unknown variant – remains an open one, but given that this Loki had a direct hand in the creation of the multiverse, it certainly makes sense that he might cross over to a film dealing directly with that concept. Could Sylvie also pop up? It’s certainly possible and after Loki and WandaVision it seems as though anything could happen in this film. 

The post Marvel’s Loki Season 2: The MCU Questions We Need Answered appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2UhDRmU

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[themikewheelers]

Stranger Things Timeline

So I spent today putting together a comprehensive timeline of everything that happened in the show. It includes all the details that happened each day, starting from the beginning of season one on the night of November 6th, 1983, up until the very end of season two. As of right now it doesn’t have any events that happened before November 6th, but I may edit this add them in the future. The show does have a few timeline inconsistencies, especially in season two, but I pieced everything together in the way that makes the most sense. This timeline does go into detail so don’t look if you don’t want to see spoilers. Note: The events on each specific day may not necessarily always be listed in chronological order, this timeline is meant more to cover what happened on each day to get an overall view of the show and not to list out the order each event happened every day. 

Sunday, November 6, 1983:

Eleven was in the sensory deprivation tank when she saw the Demogorgon and got scared, accidentally using her powers to open the gate to the Upside Down and letting the Demogorgon out. In the chaos she escaped from the lab.

The boys were playing Dungeons and Dragons in Mike’s basement. While biking home, Will passed the Demogorgon and got taken from the shed in his backyard and went to the Upside Down.

Monday, November 7, 1983:

Joyce went to Hopper at the police station about Will being missing.

Eleven stole food from Benny’s and he found her. He gave her food and then called social services, but the lab intercepted the call and killed him. Eleven ran back into the woods to escape.

Nancy and Steve were making out in the bathroom before school, and Steve came over to her house that night and snuck in through the window to help her study.

Hopper interrogated the boys about Will at school, then went to investigate Mirkwood and found Will’s bike.

At night, the boys snuck out to go looking for Will in the woods by Mirkwood. They found Eleven in the rain and brought her back to Mike’s basement to hide there.

Joyce got a call from Will and heard breathing, then the phone broke.

Tuesday, November 8, 1983:

Mike ditched school to spend the day with El and showed her around his house.

Lucas threatened to tell Mike’s mom about El, and El used her powers to stop him, and the boys found out about her telekinesis.

Hopper found Benny’s body.

Jonathan visited Lonnie to see if Will was there.

Steve threw a party with Nancy, Barb, Carol, and Tommy, while Jonathan watched from the woods taking pictures. After jumping in the pool, Steve and Nancy went off to sleep together, and while Barb was alone by the pool the Demogorgon took her to the Upside Down and killed her.

Wednesday November 9, 1983:

While Mike was at school, El explored his house.

Joyce put up the Christmas lights around her house.

Hopper investigated the lab, and after they showed him a false tape, he went to the library to look at old newspapers with stories about the lab.

Steve found out about the pictures Jonathan took and broke his camera.

Nancy looked for Barb and went back to Steve’s house, where she saw the Demogorgon.

El tried to bring the boys to find Will, but just led them back to the Byers house, because in reality Will was in the Upside Down version of his house.

Will’s fake dead body was found at the quarry, and the story came out that he just fell into the water and died.  

Thursday, November 10, 1983:

Hopper, Joyce, and Jonathan saw Will’s fake body at the morgue.

Steve and Nancy got into an argument in alley by the school and Nancy stormed off.

The police interrogated Nancy about Barb, and Karen found out she and Steve slept together and got into fight with Nancy.

The boys gave Eleven her makeover with the blonde wig and brought her to school to the assembly and then to try to contact Will with the AV Club ham radio.

Nancy saw the monster in the background of one of the photos Jonathan took and teamed up with him to find it.

Hopper saw the state trooper who found the Will’s fake body at the bar and attacked him for information, then went to the morgue and cut into Will’s body and discovered it was fake. Then he broke into the lab to look for Will, and when the workers found him they drugged him, brought him back to his trailer, and bugged the trailer.

The kids learned about the Upside Down.

Friday, November 11, 1983:

The kids and the teens didn’t have school because of Veteran’s Day (It’s not mentioned in the show, but it’s the explanation for why they weren’t shown to be ditching school or anything that day).

The character’s went to Will’s funeral. At the funeral, the boys asked Mr. Clarke about alternate dimensions to try and better understand the Upside Down.

The kids tried to track the gate to the Upside Down with their compasses, but El messed with the compasses because she was scared it wasn’t safe for them to find it. When the boys found out she was doing this, Mike and Lucas got into a fight and Eleven accidentally threw Lucas with her powers to try and stop them. Afterwards, Lucas stormed off and El ran away.

Nancy and Jonathan went into the woods and practiced shooting cans. They tried tracking down the monster, and at night Nancy found a portal to the Upside Down in a tree and went through. After she got out her and Jonathan went back to her house and she asked him to spend the night because she didn’t want to be alone. Steve came to apologize to Nancy, but saw Jonathan with her and got mad thinking Nancy was cheating on him.

Saturday, November 12, 1983:

Hopper and Joyce went to visit Terry Ives and uncovered the story of Jane (Eleven).

Dustin and Mike went to apologize to Lucas, but they ended up arguing again. Dustin and Mike went off to look for Eleven while Lucas kept looking for the gate, and traced it back to the lab.

Eleven stole Eggos from the grocery store.

Nancy and Jonathan bought supplies to hunt the Demogorgon, then saw Steve, Carol, Nicole, and Tommy spray-painting graffiti about them. Jonathan and Steve got into a fight and got arrested.

Troy and James chased Mike and Dustin to the quarry, and threatened to cut Dustin if Mike didn’t jump off the cliff. Mike jumped, but then Eleven showed up and used her powers to levitate him to safety, then broke Troy’s arm and told him to go.

Mike and Dustin brought El back to Mike’s house, but then the lab workers came for El and there was the bike chase scene where Eleven flipped a van and they reunited with Lucas, who then made amends with El.

The lab workers came to the Wheeler house and started interrogating Karen and Ted about Eleven.

The kids hid out in an old bus in the junkyard until Hopper came and brought them to the Byers house.

All the characters came together and went to the middle school to create a homemade sensory deprivation tank El could use to find Will. Joyce and Hopper then went to the lab to get to the gate, and Hopper sold out Eleven’s location so they would be allowed to go to the Upside Down to save Will.

Nancy and Jonathan went back to the Byers house to fight the monster and draw it away from the Upside down temporarily. Steve, after getting into a fight with Tommy and Carol, went to the Byers house to apologize and joined the fight. The kids stayed at the school, but then the lab workers came for Eleven and she had to kill them, but all the blood drew the Demogorgon to the school.

Eleven had to sacrifice herself to kill the Demogorgon and woke up in the Upside Down. She found a portal and was able to escape quickly, but when she went back to Mike’s house she saw the lab workers interrogating him about her and ran away.

Joyce and Hopper saved Will, and he reunited with the boys in the hospital.

Saturday, December 24, 1983:

Season 1 epilogue. The boys played a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, and when Jonathan came to pick up Will, Nancy (and Steve) gave him a new camera. Will threw up a slug in the bathroom when he got home, and Hopper left the Christmas party at the police station to leave food for Eleven, who at the time was living in the woods.

Unknown Date, Winter 1983-1984:

Hopper found Eleven in the woods and took her to the cabin where she started living and went into hiding, not allowed to leave until it was safe and the lab wasn’t looking for her anymore.

Sunday, October 28, 1984:

Kali’s gang was on the run from the police after being implied to have killed someone. Kali used her powers to get away.

The boys went to the arcade, where they saw that “Madmax” beat Dustin’s highscore. Will had another vision of the Upside Down and the shadow monster.

Tuesday, October 30, 1984:

Murray came to the police station with new conspiracy theories for Hopper.

Steve and Nancy were going over Steve’s essay when they saw Billy arrive.

The boys saw Max get introduced to their science class.

Bob visited Joyce at work and they made out in the supply closet.

Hopper investigated the rotten pumpkins.

Will went to the lab to have another session with Dr. Owens about his visions.

Dustin and Lucas went to the arcade to watch Max.

Steve and Nancy went to dinner at the Hollands house, who revealed they were selling the house and hiring Murray to find out what happened to Barb.

The Byers and Bob had a movie night and afterwards Will had another vision of the shadow monster outside his house.

Wednesday, October 31, 1984:

Eleven asked if she could go trick-or-treating wearing a ghost costume, and Hopper insisted it still wasn’t safe.

The boys arrived at school in their Ghostbusters costumes only to find out no one else was in costume. Dustin and Lucas bickered over asking Max if she wanted to go trick-or-treating with them.

While driving Max home, Billy tried to run the boys over with his car.

The boys and Max went trick or treating and Will had another vision. Mike, who was mad the other boys invited Max, took Will back to his basement where Will told him about the shadow monster and his visions.

The teens went to a Halloween party, where Nancy got drunk and then got mad at Steve. Steve left and Jonathan took her home.

Hopper continued to investigate the rotten plants and forgot he promised to be home for El. El got mad at him and refused to talk to him, instead locking herself away with the TV and used sensory deprivation to visit Mike in the void.

Dustin found the pollywog and named it Dart.

Thursday, November 1, 1984:

Dustin stole books from the library to try and investigate what animal Dart was.

Bob drove Will to school and gave him advice about not running away from confrontation, unaware that what Will was dealing with was an interdimensional monster.

Steve and Nancy got into a fight in the alley during Steve’s basketball practice.

Dustin showed Dart to the other kids in the AV Room.

Bob had lunch with Joyce and told her about the recording he saw of Will’s vision on Halloween. Joyce went home and watched it, and traced the figure in the background and recognized it as the same monster Will drew before.

Nancy and Jonathan came up with a plan to expose the lab.

Eleven snuck out of the cabin to find the boys at school.

The boys found out Dart was from the Upside Down, but then lost Dart in the school. While they were all looking for him, El came in and saw Mike with Max and got jealous and flipped Max off her skateboard then left. Will found Dart, but then it scared him and sent him into another vision. This time, following Bob’s advice, he didn’t run away from the monster, but as a result got possessed by it.

Dustin found Dart and hid him from the other kids.

El came back to the cabin and Hopper was mad at her for leaving, and they got into a fight.

Friday, November 2, 1984:

Nancy and Jonathan ditched school and went to the park for their plan. The lab workers found them there and brought them to the lab, and while they were there Nancy secretly recorded everything Dr Owens said. They then left Hawkins and spent the night at a motel.

El was cleaning up the cabin when she found the boxes Hopper had in storage. Going through them she found out about her biological mother and visited Terry in the void.

Will stayed home from school, and Joyce and Hopper had him draw and then they connected the drawings and hung them up around the house. Hopper figured out the drawings were the tunnels and went off to go to them.

After basketball practice, Billy told Steve about how Nancy was with Jonathan.

Max and Lucas got into an argument in the parking lot at school. Billy saw them and told Max to stay away from Lucas.

Mike went to the Byers house to help Joyce and Will.

Dart ate Dustin’s cat and Dustin found out he was a baby Demogorgon.

Saturday, November 3, 1984:

Lucas went to his parents for advice on how to apologize to Max. He met with her at the arcade and told her everything about what happened the year before with Will’s disappearance, but she didn’t believe him.

Dustin trapped Dart in his cellar and spent the day trying to find someone to help him deal with Dart.

Eleven went to Terry’s house and met her and Becky. She tried to communicate with Terry in the void and learned about how the lab kidnapped her as a baby. She left the house late at night to go to Chicago where she met Kali, because that’s what she thought Terry wanted her to do.

Nancy and Jonathan went to Murray’s house and told him all about the lab and the Upside Down. They came up with a plan to expose the lab for causing Barb’s death, and that night Nancy and Jonathan kissed and slept together.

Bob came to the Byers house to make Will feel better, and he recognized the drawings as a map and helped Joyce and Mike decipher it.

Dustin and Steve teamed up, but when Steve went to attack Dart in the cellar, they found out he escaped.

Joyce and Bob went into the tunnels and rescued Hopper, but then soldiers came and started setting the tunnels on fire, which caused Will to collapse and they had to rush him to the doctors at the lab.

Sunday, November 4, 1984:

Will woke up in the lab with memory loss.

Steve gave Dustin advice on the train tracks about hair and how to deal with his crush on Max.

Lucas went to Max’s house and said he had proof. The two of them went to meet up with Dustin and Steve.

Hopper went to his car and tried to contact Eleven and apologized for their fight.

Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Steve came up with a plan in the junkyard to kill Dart, but while executing it they learned that there were multiple Demodogs.

Since the shadow monster was possessing Will, it knew his location and sent the Demodogs to the lab, killing several workers, and the rest of the characters had to escape. Bob was killed in the process and Dr. Owens was injured.

El was with Kali and her gang all day, but that night after Kali tried to convince her to kill a former lab worker, El realized her real home was back in Hawkins and left Kali to go back.

The characters went back to the Byers house, and compared the shadow monster to the Dungeons and Dragon’s Mind Flayer to try and understand it. They came up with a plan to tie up Will in the shed so the monster wouldn’t know where they were and they talked to him, and speaking in Morse code Will told them they had to close the gate.

Eleven arrived at the Byers house and reunited with all the characters.

Steve and Nancy officially broke up.

Eleven and Hopper left to go to the lab and close the gate.

Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy brought Will to the cabin to try to burn the Mind Flayer out of him.

Billy’s dad threatened him to find Max, so he went to the Wheeler house to ask about her and he talked with Karen to find out Max was at the Byers house. He arrived there to find Max, Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Steve, and attacked Lucas. Steve stepped in to defend Lucas and got into a fight with Billy. Max stabbed Billy with a needle to make him pass out, and stole his car keys. The kids carried a passed out Steve to the car and Max drove them to the tunnels. Steve woke up and flipped out, but ultimately led them into the tunnels and set the hub on fire to distract the Demodogs from going after El and Hopper in the lab.

Eleven successfully closed the gate and then passed out in Hopper’s arms.

Unknown Date, November-December 1984:

The lab got shut down.

Hopper met with Dr. Owens and El received an official birth certificate, and Hopper legally adopted her.

Saturday, December 15, 1984:

Season two epilogue. The characters went to the Snow Ball.  

#this is the most stressful while simultaneously stress relieving thing ive ever done #so enjoy #this is a good reference post #after s1 i always looked at my s1 timeline for reference and for getting my bearings and stuff #stranger things