#DAMN it keeps buffering at random points though :/

[theres-no-protocol-for-this]

Humans Adopt a Combat SecUnit

A random one-shot about a horrible moment during a hypothetical hostile takeover. A one-shot with no real ending. Angst. You’ve been warned.

Now on AO3 for the same reason I put anything there, because finding it here is rocket surgery. 

(Cass)

The attack came out of nowhere.

One minute, Kris and I had been sitting at a cafe and discussing the logistics of our next cargo run and the next, several dozen armed men stormed the office building across the street.

Mayhem erupted around us. Cafe patrols tried to flee only to meet the business end of large guns. Several constructs in heavy armor stomped past us and up the building steps. A grenade destroyed the front entrance entire, flinging dust and smoke into the air. The air circulation systems struggled to keep up. It was getting harder to breathe with each passing moment.

Suddenly, a group of soldiers rushed out of the building, through smoke and frames and began indiscriminately shooting at attackers and civilians alike. Kris yanked me by the arm to hide under our table, but it proved to be minimal cover against the hail of bullets flying overhead.

What ended up saving both our lives was a SecUnit, one of the combat-ready models. It took a defensive position between us and the battle, and remained there until the shooting had largely ceased. At the time, I didn’t know why it had chosen that course of action because it was so damn unexpected.

Security Units sometimes protect people — when they’re contracted to do so — but the Combat Units are intended for only one thing: taking down enemies. This one stood in front of us and took more damage than was reasonable. By the time the worst had passed, the bot-human hybrid looked worse for the wear. Its armor was dented in a dozen places, and it was bleeding from several projectile wounds. It had also gotten burned in several areas with short-range energy blasts.

“We have to go,” Kris practically yelled in my ear over all the noise. “This is insane. Hostile takeovers shouldn’t target civilian places.”

I nodded and tried not to think about the wanton death and destruction happening fifteen feet away. “What about the Unit?”

My companion gave me a searching look. “I don’t know that we can do anything. It probably has orders.”

“SecUnit,” I called out to the tall construct. It wore armor from head to toe, but enough of it was destroyed that I could see metal and light-brown skin underneath.

It turned in our direction. Its helmet was still functional but the opaque faceplate had shattered at some point. Blue-green eyes regarded us from a blank, neutral face that betrayed none of the pain the construct had be feeling.

“Come with us,” I said as I crawled out from under the table and looked around.

“What?” Kris looked horrified.

I ignored my co-pilot for a moment. “SecUnit, your armor is destroyed. You should remove it before it causes you damage.”

The horror of the situation was seeping in by then, panic replacing the initial numbness. Kris had been in war zones before, had even participated in several takeovers, before making hauling his current profession. I imagined he knew what he was doing.

All I knew is that we needed to leave and it was imperative we take the person who just saved our lives with us. The SecUnit pulled off its armor — some of which had all kinds of razor sharp edges curtesy of all the shooting — and underneath it looked a lot more like a human being than I’d anticipated.

Not that I had much experience in this area; I’d never seen a construct up close before.

Kris tugged at my arm and started moving along the edge of the coffee shop toward an alley. I resisted until the SecUnit followed a moment later.

Somehow, all three of us managed to make it to the mouth of the alleyway without further injuries. I was coughing up a lung because of all the smoke — the air scrubbers could handle a lot, but this was ridiculous. Kris knew what to do, though, I trusted him with my life.

--

(Combat SecUnit)

I had failed at achieving my mission objectives, and I could no longer connect to my handler.

The two events had not been simultaneous, but the quick succession was enough to feel concerning. My organic neural tissue was sending up error codes I couldn't interpret.

I chose my position primarily to get a better vantage point on the small-scale skirmish occurring in front of the ShoreCross office building. Infiltrating the facility was my primary objective, but it no longer appeared to be feasible, much less applicable.

When the shooting began, I considered moving. Even without a handler to direct me, I have enough self-preservation instincts to not stand in direct line of fire. But there were two unaffiliated humans behind me, and if I moved, they would die.

My handler should've made the judgment call about staying or leaving. Those kinds of choices were outside my permissible range of decisions, but she was not responding. My communication device was otherwise functional, and the feed remained stable in the area despite the commotion. Her presence was completely absent in its normal places inside my head, and it did not appear to be a malfunction on my part.

When the shooting briefly paused, the two humans made a smart but risky decision to evacuate. My own assessment supported this course of action. I had taken more damage than advisable, and while none of it was catastrophic, I would need access to a repair cubicle for most of the injuries.

So, the human's instruction to remove my destroyed armor came as a complete surprise. Her further request that I come with them, even more so. My governor didn't much care who gave the orders so long as it was a direct request. It was completely up to my handler to override irrelevant commands and choose who to ignore.

When the humans moved, I followed them after discarding what little remained of my armor. I had a large projectile weapon, which I also left behind because I had no way of storing it and moving with it was cumbersome. My in-built weapons would suffice should I find myself in a firefight, and if that happened, I was unlikely to survive the experience.

The male human (feed name: Kristos) led the way. He paused when we reached a small alleyway and peeked inside. It  was empty. I knew as much because I had hacked the local feed before arrival, a necessary measure to ensure I wouldn't be caught or surprised.

"Are you all right?" the female human (feed name: Cass) asked me.

I nodded. As best as I understood the question, I was not experiencing any significant malfunctions and my pain sensors were down in the 50% range, so I was not in any significant pain, either.

"Good," she said, and then reached out and took my hand. "Stay close. We'll cut through here and then head straight to the transit ring. The safest place we can be right now is on a ship. Ours, specifically."

I obeyed the command and followed them closely, but my threat assessment did not like this course of action. The humans would indeed be safer on their ship. Weapons could not be discharged anywhere on the transit ring. However, without my handler, my own mental state would deteriorate rapidly. I should be nowhere near any humans when this occurred.

Unfortunately, communicating this to the humans was complicated. There are very few things I'm permitted to say. I was willing to risk governor punishment but couldn't come up with a short enough explanation that I could provide it before being zapped.

This unit is not constructed to function independently of a human handler, I told them. That was a response in my buffer, usually reserved for when someone attempted to a request that required too many decision points.

Cass turned to look at me, her expression grim. "Is your handler somewhere close? Are you able to return to them?"

Unknown, I answered. It was not the most polite response, and my governor quickly reminded me of the error, but it was almost more than I could manage.

Kris spoke several curses in three distinct languages under his breath in quick succession. "That's why you were standing there, wasn't it? Fucking hell. This complicates things. Just keep following us for now, and we'll figure something out."

Turning to his companion, he added, "It's a Combat model. Its mental state is dependent on the constant tweaking and monitoring of its human handler. Without a handler, it's going to go crazy."

"What?" Cass glanced at me but her focus was on Kris. "Why the fuck would someone do that?"

"Because when you make a dangerous tool, you put in a lot of safeguards to keep it from slipping its leash." The human stopped just long enough to make sure our path was clear, then continued moving. "There's a reason most polities don't permit the use or creation of constructs."

The horrified expression on Cass' face surprised me. Most humans I had met feared constructs, and her behavior didn't line up with my expectations.

"Almost there," the woman told me as we exited the station mall and headed down to the embarkation zone. "Just a little longer."

---

(Combat SecUnit)

The humans walked with me through the embarkation zone as though it was a perfectly normal course of action. I knew from experience that SecUnits were not permitted in the human-occupied areas of most stations, but I suspected neither Cass nor Kris knew this. A weapons scanner drone stopped us near their ship's loading dock, but Kris explained that I was their cargo, and a human supervisor overrode the panicky drone.

Once inside the ship, both humans visibly relaxed.

Cass led the way to the control room of the ship and guided me toward an empty seat. I stood next to it until she gave me a direct order to sit down. Meanwhile, Kris directed one of the local news channels from the feed to a large display surface mounted to one of the walls of the bridge. Coverage of the 'unprovoked' attack on ShoreCross played in the background while the humans coordinated their next step in preparation for departure.

I continued to sit while my internal world slowly crumbled. When it became hard to name the humans or distinguish my current position, I said, It may be prudent to secure this unit before it malfunctions further. I had never used this buffer message before, but it was the closest to what I wanted to communicate. Emotional and mental cohesion, both of which were necessary to successfully complete mission, frayed around the edges.

Kris glanced up at me from where he was leaning over a control panel and reading information off to the local traffic controller. "Best to do what it says for now."

"I've almost got this figured out," Cass complained. "Shit, I think I'm the only one with enough augments of the right type to even attempt this. I know it's not your fault, SecUnit, but your humans really did a number on you."

She got up from where she'd been seated on the floor, connected directly into the mechanical brain of the hauler, and came over to me. "Let's get you comfortable, all right?"

"It might fight you if it thinks its cornered and it can't think straight," the co-pilot warned.

I looked up at the human. She wore a deep frown on her soft, dark face as she inputted commands into the controls of the smart chair where I was currently sitting. It readjusted to fit my longer frame, suggesting that normally Kris sat here. Cass maneuvered me into position, so I leaning back with my feet slightly off the floor and situated comfortably in the seat's foot rests.

Once she had me where she wanted me, the chair did the rest automatically. Thick, durable straps wrapped around my arms, torso, and legs effectively restraining me. According to the specifications available in the feed, the system was intended to keep a human from falling out of the piloting chair during high-impact maneuvers. It was more than strong enough to keep me from hurting myself or the humans.

Despite knowing better, I fought against the restraints. I understood that doing so would cause me further injury and that they existed to keep my humans — I thought of these humans as mine — safe. But there was a disconnect between reality and my fractured mind that I couldn't seem to bridge.

Cass put her hand on my chest and started talking in a soft, quiet voice. By this point, I had trouble understanding what she was saying, but the hand helped. As did the warm blanket she draped over me and the pillow under my head. Consciousness came and went.

[apothe-scary]

LEVI GOLDSTEIN THE VAMPIRE, FACTS MASTERPOST

Any time i have new facts ill add them here!!!

Levis physical facts

Levi is two thousand years and some change old!

He ages EXTREMELY slowly. Though bitten at age 19, he now looks 21-23 years of age at this point in his life.

Levi is six feet tall

As cute as levi is, he makes the most HORRIFIC facial expressions sometimes. Eyes a little too wide, smile too big, showing too many teeth and too much gum. Creepy smiles Bug eyed looks and wrinkled noses. He doesnt mean too, but he forgets what he looks like sometimes.

Levi is blind in one eye if you haven’t noticed! He lost it in a fight! A sword fight!

Has a really fucking weird accent i wont even attempt to write but will try to at least describe

Personal facts about levi

No one believes hes a real vampire

Loves bloody steak

Loves animals

Loves kids

Loves all things occult

Levis is old, very very old, he’s two-thousand and some change. So he can bypass some of the things younger vampires cant. He can daywalk for a few hours without protection BUT all day with protection ie: sun hat or umbrella. He can turn into mist and bats and a wolf creature. He can have his head cut off and still live. He can regenerate limbs. But things that still get him are the laws of hospitality. He must be invited, he must treat his guests with respect and feed them, water them, ya know treat them well.

Pouts when he cant go outside to look at the pretty flowers because he forgot/got it stollen his hat/umbrella.

Levi LOVES dogs! He gets one any chance he has and has an extensive record of every dog hes ever owned. When levi and svetza go out, levi is the buffer for dogs. Dogs seem to dislike svetza on some level she can not fathom. (Or some dogs at least) Dogs however flock to levi in droves and become instant babies in his presence.

Levi sleeps in a large four poster coffin bed. Its a queen sized bed shaped like a coffin with four posters, heavy light blocking curtains, and its very cozy!

Levi has family. Lots and lots of family. Hes kept a record of his entire family. He knows everyone and sends them letters and gifts on hollidays. Everyone in the family knows about levi but not exactly who and what he is and what hes about. Hes just that one really weirdly supportive uncle /cousin that shows up to familyreunions. Like the family isnt even sure how they are related but they know they are. He keeps track of marriages and births and deaths. Anytime anyone if the family needs to know their genealogy they ask weird cousin/uncle levi. Only a few memebers of the family know what he is really. Others know but dont believe. Some suspect and the others joke about it. Levis home (an old castle) is filled with family photos and such. It just fills me with joy to imagine that instead of mourning the fact that everyone you love dies while you live on as a vampire, he just sees it as an opportunity to keep track of his family and history! He even takes in family memebers when they need a place to stay. So its not uncommon for him to have random members of his super extended family living with him.

Garlic also isnt a deterrent. Garlic is just...stinky. Really really stinky. But he likes the stinky.

hes always cool to the touch so he LOVES warm stuff. Hand warmers, sunny days, warm rocks, warm people, hot drinks or foods.

But his favorite days are sunless because then he can go out without a hat and umbrella!

Levi is extra about his fashion! He wears all sorts of fashion, the man is two thousand years old and has CHOICES! Levi really loves the grungy garage punk and jock with crop top n booty shorts looks. At home he wears booty shorts and crop tops to lounge in. Sleeps in a night shirt thats really just an oversized tshirt dress he got at a thrift shop. He will wear a dress. He gives zero fucks.

Levi loves kitchy vampire shit! Novels, Movies, games, costume, Decorations, ect! He ADORES THEM! He thinks its fun and creative and likes all the lore people come up with! They even get facts right sometimes!

Levi is a dinosaur. Hes only just now gotten used to using a dial phone. Let alone a cellphone. Help him. He still uses a rotary phone for gods sake

Levi owns several properties he rents out to people. Its where he makes most of his money.

Levis birth certificate year has to be refreshed every thirty years to stay current. But all the other facts stay the same. Parents, where he was born etc. He knows people who can make him new proper legal documents so he can fly under the radar.

Levis Religious facts

Holy items dont work on him at all! Especially crosses because “Oh yes, a jewish man hung on a torture device would be PLEASED to see them used to symbolize peace and love. And then bless it as a holy item.” Like get real, its a torture device, a symbol of death and malicious intent and not a holy symbol. (To him)

He doesn’t consider himself evil or unholy. So that has some impact on why the items don’t work.

The boy sports a star of david all the time because...jewish.

He also reads his torah and other holy books like a good boy.

Levis professional medical facts

He drinks peoples blood to find out what ails them! Then perscribes them the proper medicine!

being a medical professional he convinces people to donate blood! He uses half of them for his patients.

Levi is able to smell girls on their periods but politely says NOTHING

Levi runs several small medical clinics/apothecary shops where he hires local medical practitioners as employees. (They deal with all the new fangled fancy equipment)

Levis personal medical facts

Levi is two thousand years and some change old!

Also as he is a medical professional he knows hes being rediculous but he doesn’t care. Levi takes iron pills because of his iron deficiency from his vampirism. But he hates taking the horse pills so he Makes bloodshakes with red fruits or veggies to hide the fact hes drinking blood and everyone just assumes its red for the ✨ aesthetic ✨

Direct sunlight after a few hours gives him a WICKED sunburn

Blood transfusions work as well. He actually keeps half of all blood transfusions for himself!

Levi is blind in one eye! He lost it in a sword-fight! Why it hasn’t regenerated is beyond him.

Levi au facts

Ouran highschool Host club

Ok but levi being in the host club would be kinda perfect for him. Hes a goofy, sweet, caring, drama loving, tall (six feet is tallish) pretty, twink boy. Hed fit right in.

People refer to levi as the vampire prince. He isnt sure why but it seems to make them happy so he just lets it be.

Loves occult stuff

Loves kids

Levi is on iron pills for his iron deficiency. But Levi refusing to take his iron pills because they are HORSE PILLS (aka huge af) He hates taking the horse pills so his friend crush them up and put them in his bloodshakes, blood pudding and sausage for him to eat/drink.

His friends know damn well he can swallow his pills (though he insists he can not) because they have seen him jokingly deep throat bananas and swallow hotdogs whole. But they just roll with it and crush them into his food and drink.

Levi Makes bloodshakes with red fruits or veggies to hide the fact hes drinking blood and everyone just assumes its red for the ✨ aesthetic ✨

Blood transfusions are also be a thing he does in rare extreme cases

Levi is a dinosaur. Despite only being 19. Hes only just now gotten used to using a dial phone. Let alone a cellphone. Help him. He still uses a rotary phone for gods sake

Levi sleeps in a large four poster coffin bed. Its a queen sized bed shaped like a coffin with four posters, heavy light blocking curtains, and its very cozy!

Levi lives with family friends who live in a castle!

Loves bloody steaks

Also cant be in direct sunlight for long due to also having sun sickness, so he wears a big hat and carries an umbrella all the time.

Pouts when he cant go outside to look at the pretty flowers because he forgot/got it stollen his hat/umbrella.

No one believes hes a real vampire

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: True Might

Also on AO3! 

TL;DR:  Powers don't make the hero - passion does. Luckily for Izuku and Toshinori, this is something the quirkless have in droves.

AKA: All Might is a quirkless vigilante, One for All isn't a quirk that exists and 1A gets a whole 3-week buffer before villain's start kicking their face in as opposed to the 3 days of canon.

Basically: Quirkless!Vigilante!All Might and Quirkless!Successor!(gen ed) UA Student!Midoriya. It’s a riot.

Yagi is stupid strong, his only form in this AU is basically Muscle Form from canon, but he’s a little less ridiculously cut. Not quite chubby, but huggable. This is mostly because he A, isn’t a celebrity that needs to have a marketable image and B, he really likes carbs.

He’s not exactly a vigilante by choice, in his day and age quirkless kids weren’t permitted to apply to UA, either gen ed or heroics. When Nezu got the job, that all changed, but it was a solid decade too late for Yagi.

He’s admittedly a little bitter about it, but he refuses to do anything but his best. He might be a little snippier with Pros than he really needs to be but oh well.

Katsuki and Izuku are utterly enamoured with this crazy vigilante that just doesn’t lose, refuses to back down from a fight even when he’s outmatched, and somehow coming out victorious anyway, rescuing everyone. They have a tense relationship, but often find time to get together and just ramble about how cool All Might is, share theories and dissect his fights. It’s not uncommon for Katsuki to have been hurling abuse at Izuku during class, only to show up at his house after school with a backpack full of snacks and a notebook full of questions.

Izuku knows most of what Katsuki does is to keep his status in the school. If he showed pity to a dumb quirkless runt he’d be painted with the same brush. This doesn’t make what Katsuki has done right! Only Izuku doesn’t blame him because he’s way too forgiving.

Izuku is the smartest person Katsuki knows and vice versa – they are each other’s measuring stick. Katsuki shows Izuku bravery, Izuku shows Katsuki determination.

Episode 1 goes as it does but you see a real flash of regret when Katsuki tells Izuku to jump off a roof because they are kinda-sorta friends. Izuku looks so betrayed. We meet the slime villain like before, All Might saves Izuku and 100% doesn’t expect the kid to fanboy about him and ask for two autographs – one made out to a “Kacchan”.

“Can someone quirkless be a hero?” “The whole world will be against you. Most places won't even give you a shot – no matter how good you are. You’re better off picking something else.”

Izuku is crushed but he does understand. All Might leaves and Izuku trails off kinda hopelessly. He follows the sounds of explosions without meaning to.

It’s Katsuki! He’s dying! Like usual at this point lmao. Izuku rushes in much like canon, All Might shows up, pulls Katsuki free and slams a dumpster on the slime villains head before making a speedy getaway. The police rip into Izuku but Katsuki actually defends him. “You were doing fuck all while I fucking died – don’t knock the only asshole who tried.” Izuku quietly slips him the autograph before running off the scene. Katsuki cries because Izuku got that for him even after he was such a fucking bastard that day? He can’t bring himself to be a dick to Izuku again, even only for show.

All Might finds Izuku and he's like “Sorry I was an ass I was being a dick because I had low self-esteem – I’m quirkless. If you’ll have me I’ll make you into the best hero the world had ever seen

Izuku, obviously, says yes please!

Also, hypermobile Izuku with joint braces as support gear because just let me project please my arms are killing me ( I wrote this a while ago and yes. My arms are still killing me - yes even now). He gets them after All Might sees him miss a dodge because his ankles rolled beneath him. They support his joints beyond the normal range of strength, letting him do some crazy pivots and handsprings, making it easy to support all his weight on a single-arm with very little strain. They can also lock in place, lessening muscle fatigue if he needs to hold onto something for ages and preventing injury if he’s pushing against something. Produced by David and Melissa Shield and imported through Nighteye Heroics.

Is support gear illegal for civilians to own? Yes! But medical equipment isn’t so if you can just convince people its medical not support you can get away with a lot.

Yagi has no weapons himself, other than the random shit he picks up and swings at people, and has little support gear other than a communicator, panic button, and a whole lot of zip-ties.

Izuku should probably have weapons but I’m struggling to think of anything other than war fans because how cool would that look? Because Shonen they would also have the ability to create powerful downdrafts that would give a boost to a jump or dodge.

Probably doesn’t get them until later and needs to train with them.

In this AU, One for All isn’t a quirk. Rather, it’s a role, passed from quirkless person to quirkless person, the only people who can’t be hard countered by All for One. They tend to be vigilantes, crime lords or hero managers, doing their part to foil as much of All for One’s plans as they can, through whatever means necessary.

It’s a role with a pretty high fatality rate.

No one knows All Might is quirkless other than those close to him, they instead think he has a strength quirk. He’s the most prolific vigilante in Japan and is almost as much of a household name as canon All Might. More divisive though, with most people decrying his vigilante status when he could ‘easily make a respectable hero’. He’s also pretty brutal with his takedowns of some villains, leading a lot of people to call him an unregulated brute. Still more call him a villain which, legally he would be - were he using a quirk.

Nighteye is his contact in the heroics industry, gives him loads of inside info that’s typically not something he should be passing on. He’s still close with David Shield. Nighteye imports any costume parts he needs from David and leaves them at various pickup points for Yagi.

He went to college with David in America after Nana died; America having a quirk blind admission process helped - but he’d have gotten shit talked a lot if people didn’t just assume he had a strength quirk. Dude was and is crazy big.

David was one of the only people that knew he was quirkless

OH FOR FUN; Nighteye was also going to this American college and that’s where he met All Might. The three of them became the world’s strangest group of friends and may have lowkey done some slightly illegal vigilante work around the campus and surrounding town. They had a reputation for getting no sleep ever and being the most mismatched set of people

Secretly Smart Jock, Business Man with a Touch of E-boy, Science Hipster. They all tumbled into class together with varying levels of alive-ness. Nighteye and David were very much not morning people.

UA! It’s a ride. Izuku fails the practical but he’s not shocked – he was prepared for this.

He actually got like 30 hero points? But they refused to admit him on hero points alone due to his ‘deficiencies’. They don’t exactly tell Izuku this but Aizawa was there and he was furious.

Gets into 1C with Shinsou, Shinsou fuckin hates him on sight for reasons best known to him (It’s bc he was so god damned cheerful he just – assumed Izuku had a quirk. I love Shinsou but he’s more than a little judgemental). Izuku is like smiling through the pain because he just wanted to make a friend his age – Katsuki barely counts.

He sits with him at lunch and makes friends-ish with the hero kids who dragged Katsuki along, meets Ochaco again. She’s upset he didn’t get in – especially after he tells her he apparently got 30 points. The whole table gets mad on his behalf and hes embarrassed and happy.

Like day 2 he’s leaving gym and someone is like “Oh LMAO it’s Deku – he was in the year below me at Aldera. Only fuckin quirkless kid in the whole school; can’t believe he got into UA.” He turns to Izuku. “Who’s dick did you suck to get in you - ?” And Shinsou just decks him. He grabs Izuku – who is super confused fyi – and s p r i n t s. They have to stop after a while because hes having a panic attack and Shinsou doesn’t know what the fuck to do and he’s mad and upset and the sunshine boy is sobbing –

Aizawa shows up, having seen the (end of the) altercation and is ready to expel some gen ed kids he can’t legally expel – until he sees the two kids from the entrance exam he was interested in – including the quirkless kid who should have gotten in. Well he’s much more willing to hear them out.

100% requests expulsion on those 2 2E kids because that’s Discrimination and they should know better as second years. Nezu grants it because those 2 were di ck s

No USJ because no All Might – stuff like that will come,,, later : )

Sports Fest! Izuku and Shinsou kick ass, Aizawa is Watching. All Might may have gotten in as a crowd member with Nighteye and a visiting David and Melissa and they are cheering on their sun son. Also, Nighteye is going to go cheer on Mirio so he just got a pass to attend all 3 days of the sports festival. He’s just buying snacks on the second day because he’s never talked to one of the second years in his life.

Shinsou and Izuku make it to the tournament. Izuku has been training pretty seriously with All Might for a while now and hes a very good fighty boy. Makes it to the 3rd round of the tournament where he loses to Iida. Shinsou makes it second where he loses to Katsuki. Izuku is like “Iida might you be Ingenium’s brother or something?” “Yes, I am!” “OH MY GOD I LOVE INGENIUM ISN’T HE THE COOLEST” “YES MY BROTHER IS AMAZING” Shinsou is just watching while faintly amused.

[skruttet]

alright it’s playing wooooo

started trying to get this mumenvággi episode to play at around 10am this morning and it’s now 1am the next morning and it hasn’t played all day 😂😂😂😂

[brainbuffering]

So, I try to keep my nerd side away from my Epilepsy Blog; however I was talking to @haikyuupaladin on Discord and we realised that the closest thing we have to an Epileptic Superhero is Denki Kaminari from My Hero Academia. His superpower/’quirk’ is that he can produce electricity from out of his body, with the side effect that releasing too much causes him to short circuit his brain to the point where he cannot form speech and only give everyone a thumbs up.

A super power about having access electricity that has serious consequences to your brain function? Now That’s What I Call Epilepsy! 

So here are 25 Epileptic Kaminari Headcanons for ya’ll to enjoy! 

When he first got his quirk the side effect was similar to febrile convulsions (something to Todoroki children also suffered from). He'd zap out too much electricity at random, take out the lights in the house, and then seize on the floor. Eventually he learnt to control the quirk a little as his brain developed more and it just morphed into Absence Seizures. (Seizures where in your brain sort of enters ‘buffering’ mode and you appear blank and non-responsive until it is over. The kind I have!) 

His Mum also has Epilepsy, but she has Grand Mal Seizures (the kind you think of when you imagine epilepsy) so she has to stick to regular medication. This also means she's well prepared for when Denki gets a seizure and it's just another day at the office!

He used to take medication to control his seizures, which essentially meant he couldn't use his quirk to do more than charge a phone. Yet it also meant he didn't have major seizures in the street and during class! Not ending up in hospital is always a plus. However once he decided to become a hero and apply to UA he stopped taking them in order to be able to use more voltage. It was a tough decision to make, since having seizures has long term medical consequences and can be very isolating. Yet the idea of being a hero, being able to save lives and do something GOOD with his powerful quirk was too strong a motivator. It's why he secretly relates to Deku so much. They both risk their health in order to succeed. 

Problem is, he has a wisdom of 8, so didn't think to tell his DOCTOR he was doing any of this! So didn't wean himself off of them like a SENSIBLE person, and it resulted in some serious side effects (e.g. hallucinations) and major seizures!

His parents were naturally furious with him for taking his life into his hands like this! They we're initially completely unsupportive of his choices and refused to sign any of the UA Consent forms. Going there and becomming a Pro-Hero would put him at risk not just during his job, but during his day-to-day life too!

They eventually accepted his choices though, and are now fully supportive of him. However they DO call him regularly to check that he's okay. When they moved into dorms, they made sure that the whole Bakusquad were informed of what to do if he had a grand mal. It was one of the demands they made upon agreeing to sign the permission form. 

No one in the class really knew that he had Epilepsy and that his 'stupid' mode was legit seizures until they all moved in together. They just thought it was a side effect of his quirk! Which is kind of true, but it's also way more than that. They all feel really bad about making fun of him for it (especially Jiro!) though Denki admits he doesn't mind it so much because sometimes it IS funny!

One of the reasons he doesn't do so well in lessons is that he keeps having absences during class. Not as long as the ones he has when he deliberately over uses his quirk, but long enough to cause disruption to his learning.

It's especially a problem in exams, and Aizawa has worked out that he needs to not only give him extra time, but erase his quirk during the exams.

This isn't figured out until his second semester though, and theory lessons have become so much easier!!!

Momo's study parties really helped as well, since if he has an absence she can just repeat the topic. The whole gang can now spot when he's having an absence. It's really helpful!

He knows full damn well that going to bed at 3am will cause him to have more seizures in the morning but he does it anyway because YOLO! 

Bakugo has started to just thwack him over the head and demand he goes to bed because despite everything he does care about that fuckin' Pichu. 

Also he should really know better than to over use his quirk without carefully training it first and taking it up volt-by-volt but again... YOLO! 

Kirishima has pointed out time and time again, yes Denki. You DO only live once, so please for the love of God have some self preservation!

He has sworn that he will never drink a drop of alcohol in his life though. Because Alcohol is dangerous and BAD and makes you SLEEPY which will give you SEIZURES and that's BAD! 

Nobody believes this for a SECOND. Kirishima already has an action plan in place for his 20th Birthday. Mina will melt away any glass that he even comes NEAR. Sero will stalk him everywhere, including the bathroom, to make sure he keeps his promise. And when inevitably he DOES find a way to get drunk and ends up having a seizure, Bakugo will clear the room of on lookers. Sure, his 20th is years away, but it PAYS TO BE PREPARED!

He used to wear a medical ID but found out that having bits of metal attached to him was a bad idea when you have an electric quirk! It just adds to the issues. 

He did have a plastic one for a bit but it just got irritating, and he needed to take it off for hero training anyway! So now he just carries a card in his wallet and has an app on his phone to let people know what's going on. 

He's talked about getting a tattoo with all his information on, but his parents are very against the idea. His new plan is just to became SUPER FAMOUS so everyone will know he has epilepsy and won't NEED to tell them his name and date of birth because they'll all just KNOW! 

He is thus the only student Aizawa will accept as aiming to become famous because he has a rational reason for doing so. 

One of the reasons he charges everyone's phones is that he's discovered releasing small amounts of electricity in a controlled way leads to fewer seizures during the day. 

He also carries around a few power bricks for the same reason, and so is popular amongst students in general. He hopes this will have the side effect of girls liking him! The results are still pending. 

Momo did some reading on Valentine's Day (for total legitimate reasons not because she wanted to get anyone chocolate that's OBSERED) and found out that St. Valentine is the patron saint of epileptics. As such, she organised for the whole class to get Denki chocolates as a sign of appreciation and recognition.

 He may have cried a little bit, because nobody had ever done anything like that before and feeling accepted amongst the class for his disability fes really amazing and awesome.

[seeaddywrite]

not by blood, but by choice

a/n: ugh, okay, so technically this was started as a response to the Day 2 prompt for Roswell New Mexico Week 2019, which was family, but i am the worst at adhering to deadlines. 4k of this was written yesterday, but I COULDN’T GET IT TO END.

thanks to @soberqueerinthewild, as always, for listening to me whine & letting me borrow her idea of Isobel taking self-defense classes! 

right. Max + Malex fic, set six months post-finale. 

“So, Isobel is where, again?” Michael asks, his elbows on Max’s kitchen counter to either side of a full plate. Max is damn good at using the grill on his patio, and Michael’s never one to pass up free food. If he’d known that it would end up just being himself, his brother, and his newly official boyfriend, however, he’s not so sure he would have accepted the invitation. 

It’s not that Michael hates spending time with Max. He really doesn’t, anymore, not since the other man died. Six months of sharp-edged grief and directionless anger over the actions of a dead man had been awful, and Michael can’t pretend that he’s not glad to have his brother’s steadying presence back in his head. They’ve been spending more time together in the three weeks since Max has been back, usually involving food and shitty television, and, most importantly, Isobel’s presence as a buffer. He and Max don’t know how to spend uncomplicated, unplanned time together anymore, even after the residual anger and bitterness between them fades, and Alex’s presence seems to have made the awkwardness worse. 

And that shouldn’t be a surprise, shouldn’t be the smack in the face that it is, because Michael has known since before Max’s death that he thinks Michael should let Alex go to focus on a future in which he can be happy, as if a relationship with Alex can never be more than a reminder of the tragedies in their shared pasts. And Michael’s pretty sure that there’s a little bit of discomfort at the idea of Michael with a man, too, and he doesn’t want to touch that particular idiocy with a ten-foot pole. He’s pretty sure Max won’t make it out of that conversation in one piece, and Michael doesn’t want Isobel and Liz on his ass for killing him again when they’d only just gotten him back. 

“Self-defense class,” Max says with a small sigh, glancing at Alex like he’s not sure how much he can say about the matter in front of him, despite the fact that he’s been involved in every step of the work to bring Max back and protect them all from the long-reaching arm of Project Shepherd. “She’s a little . . . focused.” 

Michael picks up what Max isn’t saying without any mental prodding, and he drops a hand from the counter to Alex’s good knee, squeezing for his own, selfish comfort. He gets a reassuring smile for his troubles, and Michael takes a moment to revel in how lucky he is that Alex was willing to give him another chance after every stupid fucking thing he’s done in the last year: dating Maria, trying to hide from his grief at the bottom of a bottle, and swinging first and asking questions later. Alex had been the one to drag him out of his self-imposed exile and help him to realize that Isobel needed someone, too, so he understands the worry Michael feels better than most anyone could. 

Michael would like to think that he’d pulled himself together enough to be there for his sister, but no amount of support had been enough to heal the gaping wounds Noah left in her soul. Max’s return helped, and her obsessive need to become more powerful has definitely eased in the past few weeks. She’s no longer practicing mind control on random passers-by, and she’s done blowing things up just because she can, a fact for which the entire town should be grateful. But Michael knows, just as Max does, that their sister is far from fine. Her laser focus has been turned from expanding her supernatural powers to physical self-defense now that Max is back with them, and it might be better for their anonymity, but no one is convinced that it’s better for Isobel. 

“She’s been through a lot,” Alex says, his voice level as he cuts through the moment of tension with his usual affability. He’s been eating steadily, and is sitting comfortably on one of the tall stools surrounding the kitchen counter, no hint of uncertainty in his posture, but Michael knows better. He’d asked at least three times on their way to Max’s if Michael was sure that he’d be welcome, and when he realized that Isobel wasn’t coming, the grip on Michael’s fingers had tightened to an almost painful degree. Even now, when Max lifts his chin and gives Alex a look, there’s an undeniable tension in the muscles beneath Michael’s hand. 

But Alex isn’t intimidated by Max. He wants to get along with him, Michael thinks, because they share all of the same friends and loved ones, and are at least tangentially family, which means more to Alex than most people would be able to understand. That doesn’t mean he’s going to back down and show his throat, though, or let Max run roughshod over his opinions. Max doesn’t seem quite sure how to handle that; he’s been running the show to keep the three aliens safe for their entire lives, and Michael suspects he’s having a hard time adjusting to the fact that others had become just as involved in that goal while he was gone. But Alex is good at plans and strategies in a way that Max isn’t, and has more personal experience with trauma and healing than Michael cares to think about. His understanding of Isobel’s actions carry weight, whether Max wants to admit it or not. 

 “No matter why she’s doing it, self-defense isn’t a bad way to help her build some confidence,” Alex continues, meeting Max’s gaze calmly across the table. “She’s got an expert teacher and other people in the class to make sure she doesn’t take it too far. It’s as safe as anything like that can be -- and I think we’d all rather she took out her frustrations on a punching bag instead of people. I really don’t think you need to worry about her; she’s just looking for a way to feel safe in her own skin again.”

They’ve talked about this before, Alex and Michael. It’s always been after nightmares of being forced to put Isobel’s body in a pod next to Max’s, or watching her being dragged away by scientists who caught her using her powers in obvious ways during her more reckless moments. It’s been Alex who’s gathered him close in the middle of the night and whispered reassurances and explained that recovery from trauma doesn’t always seem right or healthy to others, but Isobel has to learn to stand on her own again without interference from her friends and family. She has to learn what it means not to depend on anyone after years of leaning on Noah and his reputation to make a life for herself. Michael doesn’t pretend to understand, but he’s promised Alex -- and Isobel herself -- to give her some time and space to try. 

But Max has only been up and moving for three weeks, and he’s too mired in the guilt of sending his sister into such a tailspin to realize that he’s not doing her any favors by trying to smother her. But that’s Max; he’s always been too ready to do whatever it takes to protect them, no matter what the cost. That’s how they ended up covering up a murder and carrying that burden by themselves for over a decade. It’s why his friendship with Michael crumbled around them. It’s why he can never really feel safe -- and Michael’s tired of watching the same thing happen, again and again.

Max stabs a piece of chicken with a bit more violence than strictly necessary, but doesn’t make any move to eat it. “I’ve been worrying about Isobel since she fell out of her pod and into my arms when we were seven,” he says coldly. At some point, he’s shifted to sit up straighter in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest while he stares, narrow-eyed, across the table at Alex. “She’s never had any interest in self-defense before. A taser and influencing minds has always been enough for her. So even if I could stop worrying, I wouldn’t, because my sister is off the rails, and she needs help. And for the record? The fact that you’re dating Michael now does not give you the right to tell me how to be there for my family.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence from all parties as the electricity in the room flickers and Max battles with himself to rein his powers back in. He seems just as shocked as the others about the words that have escaped his mouth, and Michael can’t quite wrap his head around the speed with which the conversation escalated. He gapes openly at Max, his blood on a slow boil. Who the hell does he think he is? Alex has been building a friendship with Isobel for half a year, while Max was gone. He’s listened to her cry, and even helped her find a decent self-defense class. Alex has been there for her, and for everyone else, while Max abandoned them for a moment of heroism that left them all fucking reeling -- and he’s going there? With Alex, who’d only been trying to help? Fuck no. 

“I’m sorry.” Max swallows heavily, his eyes sliding closed for a minute. The apology gives Michael the moment he needs to press pause on his impending explosion, and Alex looks genuinely poleaxed by the unexpected words. He’d been bracing for a blow-up, Michael realizes, taking in the challenging tilt to his chin and the glint of banked fire in his eyes. 

“That wasn’t -- I’m not --” Max trails off, running the palm of his hand over his face before opening his eyes and directing his words to both of them. “I don’t have the right to talk to you that way, Alex, and I should know better, by now, than to let my temper get the best of me.” He glances wryly toward Michael, who just raises an eyebrow, waiting. 

Alex doesn’t share Michael’s patience for whatever comes next. He pushes his plate off to the side of the table and leans forward, his expression inscrutable, but Michael can read the uncertainty in the tilt of his eyebrows and the tight line of his lips. He nudges his boyfriend’s knee with his own, trying to get him to look over, but Alex is focused on Max. 

“I know that you’ve been protecting them for most of your lives,” he says quietly, a strange solemnity in his voice that makes Michael want to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him into his side. Family is a difficult concept for Alex; he’s never had anyone willing to protect him from his father of any of the rest of life’s cruelties. And while Michael’s always wished for something more than Max and Isobel, someone more, he knows that he’s damn lucky to have them. Alex knows it, too, and is trying to meet Max halfway, which is more than Michael would have ever asked of him. 

“You’re family, and I respect that. I’m not trying to tell you how to support Isobel, or to pretend that she’s doing fine when we all know better. I’ve just been where she’s been, at least a little.” Alex hesitates, and in a moment of prescience, Michael can tell what he’s about to say and opens his mouth to stop him, to tell him that he doesn’t need to reopen his own wounds just because Max is bleeding all over him. But before he gets the chance, Alex plows forward, as unfailingly brave as he’s always been. “Someone who was supposed to love me hurt me, too. It’s not the same, and I’m not naive enough to think I know exactly what she’s going through. But I do know that after something like that? After betrayal and feeling so completely out of control of your own life? It takes time to feel comfortable in your own skin again. Time, space, and support from people who love you.” 

Michael tangles his fingers with Alex’s, and soaks up the small smile he gets in return. If Max is anything but understanding and kind in the face of such an emotionally honest confession, not even the threat of Liz’s temper tantrum is going to stop him from punching his brother in the fucking face. Alex doesn’t often talk about his father, and Michael can count on one hand the amount of times he’s heard him admit that he needed help to begin healing the wounds left by years of abuse and unfounded hatred. If Max rewards that honesty with callous words or cruelty, Michael doesn’t care what their connection is -- Alex is his family, too, and doesn’t have many other people to protect him. That’s Michael’s job, and one he takes damn seriously. 

Thankfully, Max only nods slowly. There’s no way to be sure of what he already knows about Alex’s father, or the real reasons he went to war, but there’s a glimmer of understanding in his eyes that tells Michael he knows enough to tread carefully. “It turns out I’m not so great at protecting anyone,” he says dryly, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. “Or taking good advice, apparently. I really am sorry -- you’re right. I need to let Isobel come to me, if that’s what she wants. It’s just harder than I expected, after all this time.” His smile is a sad, resigned thing, and Michael is irritated that it gets to him. Max deserves to feel some guilt and regret for what he’s done, and even if his death isn’t the cause of all of Isobel’s trauma, he needs to own the fact that he fucked up. 

Michael does his best to squash the thought. They haven’t talked about the moments leading up to Max’s death, or how any of them feel about it -- the three of them have simply slapped a bandage over the bleeding wound and done their best not to poke at it. Michael knows it won’t last forever; eventually, he’s going to lose it and tell Max exactly how much damage he’s done to all of them, not just Isobel, with his stupid stunt. He’s got plenty to answer for, and part of Michael wants to point it out, to bellow that he didn’t seem to care so much about protecting them when he was resurrecting Rosa Ortecho, that maybe he should have thought about how Isobel might feel -- but he doesn’t. This isn’t the time, not with so much already going on around them. 

Alex shakes his head, but some of the tension has dissipated from his face. “You don’t have to apologize. I get it. It’s hard to take advice from people you don’t really trust, and I know I don’t have yours, yet. But I really do just want to help, in whatever way I can. You might not think he and I are good for each other, but Michael’s the only family I’ve got, and you and Isobel are his, so . . .” he trails off, looking uncomfortable while trying to navigate complex emotions. Talking about how he feels and his own motivations is never going to be easy for Alex, even though he and Michael have gotten better at it is as they restarted their relationship. 

It’s hard to watch him push through the explanation, but Michael doesn’t jump in and try to help. He knows better; Alex is perfectly capable of expressing himself, and won’t appreciate an attempted subject change, no matter how awkward this one is. He shifts restlessly on the stool and kicks at the bottom of the counter in an effort to distract himself. The knowledge that Max doesn’t think the two of them should be together has weighed on Alex since Michael told him the story of how his hand was healed, and he knows that it’s better to get it all out in the open now, because if he has any say in the matter, Alex is sticking around for the rest of their lives. And if it helps him, or Max, to air their grievances, then Michael can deal with it. 

“What?” Max is staring at Alex, his expression twisted into obvious confusion. “Why would you think that?” There’s an obvious glimmer of hurt in the depths of his eyes that Michael doubts Alex can see. Max doesn’t usually bother to hide his emotions from his family, but with others, he tends to make more of an effort. “I’m not going to pretend that I know you very well, but I don’t have a problem with the two of you being together. I don’t know what Michael’s been telling you, but I’m not actually a bigot.”

“Max,” Michael interrupts, rolling his eyes. “He’s not calling you a fucking homophobe, relax. I told him about what you said before you --” he waves a hand, still uncomfortable with blurting out the word ‘died’ in reference to his brother. Isobel had taken to using the word as a weapon, wielding it viciously every time Max tried to convince her to give up her relentless pursuit of power and self-confidence, every time his protective instincts became smothering and hard for her to deal with, but Michael can’t quite bring himself to do the same. Not when it’s still so fresh in his mind, and Max’s, too. 

Alex nods, for the first time looking uncomfortable. “It makes sense. I know that I haven’t been the most reliable person for Michael, so I understand that you might not want to listen to what I have to say about Isobel, but -” 

“Wait, wait, hold on a second,” Max interjects, directing his bewildered stare at Michael. “What did I say? I remember -- I remember the lightning, and killing Noah, but everything gets hazy, after that.” There’s a far-off look in his eyes as he struggles to put the pieces together, and Michael shifts on his stool and eventually stands, restless energy crawling beneath his skin.  He’s recounted that night’s events for Alex, and for Liz, later, but this is the first time the subject has been broached with Max. It’s a hundred times worse; every word feels fraught with tension and buried emotion, and Michael doesn’t want this to escalate into a real fight. 

He can feel Alex’s eyes on him and knows that he’s going to have to answer, if only because Alex doesn’t have all of the details, and groans. This conversation feels like peeling a scab off of a nearly-healed wound, and it hurts, but Michael can’t bring himself to stalk off and ignore it any longer. They need to talk about this, to get it all out in the open, and Michael refuses to restart a decade-long habit of storming off when he and Max argue. The two of them are damned good at hurting each other, at leaving when things get hard, but Isobel isn’t in a place to bring them back together, anymore. And call him selfish, but Michael has enjoyed having his brother back, these past three weeks. Things have been good between them, and losing that over something that Max doesn’t even remember clearly would be fucking stupid. Michael might be frustrated, might feel like shaking Max until his brain rattles around in his skull, but he’s still Michael’s family, and that’s so rare that he won’t entertain the idea of losing it again because of death or stupid arguments. 

So he stops the restless pacing around the kitchen just behind Alex’s shoulder and flexes his newly-healed hand in pointed reminder of the conversation in the cave that Max can’t recall.   He’s not ashamed to admit that he takes a little takes petty, vindictive pleasure in the way that Max flinches — he’s not awful enough to want Max to hurt, but Michael wants to make damn sure he remembers, the next time he’s hyped up on power and thinks he can play God, that’s never okay to irrevocably change someone’s body without their fucking explicit consent, even if he’s sure it’ll be an improvement. 

“You said to leave the past behind and look forward,” he says, and if the words drip with accusation, Michael thinks it’s justified. That had fucked him up, for a while. Those words had gotten in his head and under his skin, and burrowed even deeper when Isobel agreed with them -- and he and Alex had lost months while Michael tried to follow their advice with Maria. “You wanted to get rid of my reminder.” Again, he flexes fingers that had been stiff and numb for the last decade, this time without really thinking about it. “And Isobel agreed, afterward, so --”

“You thought that meant I was telling you to give up on Alex?” Max interrupts abruptly, and Michael doesn’t understand the incredulousness in his voice. What the hell else could he have meant? But Max is staring at him, brows drawn and mouth open, and for a split second, Michael wishes that he could read the other man’s mind with Isobel’s ease. It’d be nice to know what Max is thinking, if only to get him to stop staring at Michael that way. 

“Let me get this straight,” Max says finally breaking the tense silence as he pushes away from the counter to stand. He runs his fingers through his short hair in a move that Michael recognizes from years of post-drunken brawl confrontations -- it’s the frustrated gesture that comes right before the agitated pacing in front of holding cell in the Sheriff’s office. With the pacing comes the ‘I’m so disappointed in you’ face that, despite all of Michael’s determination not to give a shit, always makes him feel a tug of guilt in the pit of his stomach. “You have never once listened to me before, about anything, and that’s where you decide to start?” 

Sure enough, the predicted pacing starts a second later, and Michael’s eyes narrow, his temper flaring hot and powerful in his chest. He’s glad Max isn’t dead, and he won’t deny it, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to start listening to the same old bullshit, especially when he hasn’t done anything wrong. 

“Do you need me to participate in this conversation, or is this where I’m supposed to shut up and listen to daddy like a good little boy?” Michael asks acerbically, his expression twisting into something bitter. “Fuck off, Max. I’ve listened to you before, and you know it. You’re the one who said anything to keep the secret, remember? Last I checked, I’ve been following your lead on that for years, even when it meant letting Isobel think I was a goddamn murderer!” His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, and Michael deliberately pushes away from Alex and the table in case things get ugly. 

He’s ready and braced for a fight. Part of him is even looking forward to it; Michael’s still got a hell of a lot of anger where Max is concerned, most of it centered around the fact that he’d done exactly what Isobel and Michael had warned him not to. He’d decided he was a freaking deity and sacrificed himself, leaving them torn apart and bleeding when they needed him. Michael’s hand, the fiasco with Noah, ten years of resentment — Michael’s practically salivating for a chance to swing at Max. Maybe then the restlessness that’s been crawling beneath his skin, making him unpredictable and reckless since Max’s death will finally be appeased. Maybe he’ll be able to let it all go, afterward, and function normally, like’s supposed to. 

Max doesn’t give him the chance to find out. His reply is strangely even, tinged with regret and something Michael can’t get a read on without pushing into his head. “I’m a lot of things, Michael, and we both know that not all of them are good, but I’d like to think I’m not that much of a hypocrite.”

It’s Alex who frowns and asks, “What do you mean?” when Michael just stares, still balancing precariously on the razor-thin line between cold silence and an explosion of temper. The wind’s been taken from his sails, though, and he wants to hear the answer to Alex’s question, so he says nothing.

Dark eyes glance between them, and Max huffs a disbelieving laugh and shakes his head. “Come on. Think about it. I should have given up on Liz a long, long time ago. If all I cared about was hiding the truth about what we are, I would never have gotten close enough to fall in love with her -- and I definitely wouldn’t have told her the truth when she came back, especially not after what happened to Rosa. Everytime we got closer, something awful happened, and it hurt both of us. And being with her now, it’s still like dangling from a cliff.” 

There’s a fond nostalgia in the way he speaks, like he’s repeating words from Liz’s mouth with the incredulity of someone who still can’t quite believe he got the girl. “It’s not safe. It’s not easy. Every minute with Liz is like this incredible adrenaline rush, and I’m always wondering what’s going to happen when I finally crash, but I wouldn’t give her up for anything. Not even when Isobel begged me to find someone else. I knew that I couldn’t.” 

Max looks from Michael’s face to Alex’s, and the slightest hints of a smile tweak the corners of his lips. “So I’d say it’d be pretty damn hypocritical of me to tell you to give up the love of your life when I’m not willing to do the same.” Max’s tall, broad body sags back against the kitchen wall, and he tips his head back against the panelling, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t remember that night very well. Just feeling invincible, with all that power -- but I still do think you need to let go of the past and stop reminding yourself of everything that hurt you. It’s impossible to move forward together, carrying all of that weight with you, and it would have ruined any chance you had of making things work. That’s all I meant, Michael, I swear.” 

There’s a moment’s silence, and Max swallows before lifting his head to look back across the room at Michael again, apparently waiting for a response. He doesn’t get one -- at least, not from Michael. There’s too much going on in his head to even consider responding coherently; strong feelings always intensify the noise in his mind, turning his thoughts to chaos and threads of ideas impossible to untangle from one another. It’d made learning to speak as a child way more difficult than it should have been for someone as smart as Michael, and he still finds himself lapsing into silence from time to time. 

Max and Alex both know this about him, and no one presses. His boyfriend simply slides from his chair to stand behind him and wraps him in a warm, gentle embrace from behind, and rests his chin on Michael’s shoulder while he looks at Max, who’s still slumped against the wall, looking tired and significantly more concerned the longer the silence goes on. “Good,” he says, speaking for both of them while Michael tries to understand how he and Max could possibly misunderstand each other on such an epic level when they literally share a psychic connection. “Because I’m not leaving again, and things might have gotten pretty damn awkward if you were going to be an ass about it.” 

The blunt statement makes Michael laugh, and for the first time since entering Max’s house that night, he turns his head and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth. It’s the first overt display of affection he’s made in front of Max and is suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he’s been careful not to initiate much in the way of physical contact in front of his brother. Alex hasn’t said anything, and Michael knows he wouldn’t, whether it bothered him or not, but he’s immediately pissed at himself for the reluctance. Max’s opinion isn’t supposed to matter, whether real or assumed, but apparently, Michael’s always going to care, at least a little, about what his brother thinks. 

It’s a galling realization, but it doesn’t seem quite as bad as it would have an hour ago. 

“Nah, he’ll just find something else to be an ass about,” Michael drawls a moment later, and Max makes a face at him, but it does nothing to disguise the relief in his expression. He’s been waiting for Michael to erupt, to yell and call him names, because that’s what they’ve done for ten years, and damn, it feels good to break that cycle. “Which is fine, because Max being nice usually ends in being a captive audience for Dostoyevsky read aloud, and I don’t think we need to be a part of his masturbatory fantasies, you know?” 

Max snorts, and Alex grins, the stretch of his smile obvious against Michael’s cheek. “Well, that explains some things about the books Liz has been carting around lately. I knew she didn’t randomly decide to pick up the most depressing book ever written,” he adds, the teasing clear in his voice. This close, Michael can almost feel the slight waver of worry that the joke won’t be well-received, that Max is going to snap at him again and all the progress they’ve just made will be ruined, but Michael isn’t worried. 

Used to the mocking comments, Max just rolls his eyes and grabs his plate from the counter, still half full of food, and shoves it in the microwave to reheat. “Great,” he tosses over his shoulder, loud enough for both of the other men to hear clearly. “Another brother who wants to take shots at my library. You’re going to have to get some new material, Manes, because Michael and Isobel have exhausted those jokes. You two deserve each other.” He sighs dramatically with a good-natured smile in their direction, then takes his steaming plate from the microwave before disappearing into the living room with it. Michael can’t decide if he’s giving them a much-needed moment alone or is really just that hungry, but he appreciates it anyway. Alex has frozen against his back, and they definitely do need a second to themselves. 

As soon as he hears the television turn on in the living room, Michael turns in Alex’s arms and presses his lips to the hinge of his jaw. “Now you’ve done it,” he says lightly, running a hand down Alex’s back soothingly. “He’s adopted you. You’re going to have to put up with all of that oblivious, overprotective bullshit just like the rest of us, and pretty soon you’ll be as crazy as me.” 

Alex huffs a disbelieving laugh, obviously bewildered by the twist the evening had taken. “I came here ready to fight with him all night,” he admits quietly, and casts a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, as if worried that Max is eavesdropping from the next room. “This is better. Even if it’s a little bizarre.” There’s a small, pleased smile on his face as he takes a step back from Michael and laces their hands together, and it remains as they heat up the remains of their own food and join Max in the living room to watch Friends reruns with Isobel’s Netflix account. They don’t talk about anything difficult for the rest of the evening, reverting instead to teasing comments and character imitations, and Michael catches himself relaxing into the easy camaraderie of the evening. 

It’s not perfect, and maybe it never will be, but Michael thinks it’s a pretty damn good start to the family they’re trying to rebuild. 

[firebirdsdaughter]

Random Writing Hmmmm…

… Huh. Now I’m wondering if this needs an epilogue.

But for now, all hail! In order to stave off anxiety, behold the third part of Resolution!

Part 1 Part 2

Please forgive any typos or errors. To quote something a former classmate once said: ‘A writing major and a lit major sit down to write something and neither of them can spell anything.’

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He was waiting for them in the hall, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring at the ground.

“Fuwa!” Yua rushed up to him, expression slightly concerned despite herself. “Are you alright? What happened? Where is-”

Isamu didn’t speak, merely jerking his head toward the door beyond him, then straightening up to slip past her, his face dark. She watched him for a moment, frown deepening worriedly, beginning to reach for his back—but then the rest of the agents arrived, and she quickly snapped back to professionalism. Gesturing for the regular agents to watch the hall, she turned and headed for the door Vulcan had indicated.

Isamu was still ignoring the others, scowling at the floor, when Aruto arrived. Seeing Valkyrie disappear through the door, Zero-One moved immediately to go after her—only for Vulcan’s hand to shoot out and grab him by the arm, bringing him up short, when he tried to go by the other Rider. Aruto turned to stare at him, while Isamu’s gaze stayed riveted on the floor. “… Fuwa-san?”

“You don’t want to go in there.” The other Rider muttered gruffly.

“But-”

“You were with a HumaGear during Daybreak, right? When the explosion hit? As a kid?” Hesitating for a moment, Aruto nodded slowly. Finally, Isamu raised his head, meeting Aruto’s eyes—and he looked honestly like he was about to shatter completely if poked with a feather. “Trust me,” He whispered grimly, fingers curling tighter around Aruto’s arm, “You do not want to go in there.”

Aruto stared back at him, watching the mess of emotions swirling in his gaze. Slowly, he raised a hand to cover Isamu’s on his arm, squeezing gently. “Fuwa-san…”

Before he could say anything else, Yua reappeared from the room, her expression just as bleak. She took a moment to take a few deep breaths, then walked briskly back over—pausing at Isamu’s shoulder, she briefly made a face like she wanted to say something… Then didn’t. Turning toward the ZAIA agents that had come with her, her expression froze over once more. “Call the others off and lock down the area.” She announced, voice level, though just barely. Regardless, the agents quickly scurried to do as she said. Valkyrie watched them for a moment, then looked sideways to see Aruto watching her with an anxious expression, Vulcan’s hand still on his arm. “… It’s done.” She told him simply, then hurried off to over see the proceedings.

——————————————————————————————————

Isamu refused to let Aruto anywhere near the door until the room had been cleared out, and both the HumaGear’s bodies were laid out and covered with tarps. By that time, Izu had arrived, and was close behind him when he entered, her head swivelling to take in the scene. The moment he stepped through the door, his stomach churned—blue painted the floor, and one of Jin’s hands was poking out from beneath the cloth, mangled and broken, some of the fingers burned through to the mechanics. Abruptly, he was extremely grateful that Vulcan had held him back, and tried to turn and send an appreciative glance at the other Rider—but Isamu had elected to huddle against the wall by the door, arms folded tightly and eyes pointedly on the floor.

Yua was kneeling beside Horobi’s body, holding the tarp up to examine it, but when Aruto came closer, she lowered it back over the HumaGear’s face quickly with a sigh. Steeling himself, and trying to keep his eyes on Valkyrie rather than Horobi, he stepped up to her as she stood. “So, what’s ZAIA going to do?” She looked sharply at him, but he’d already had too long of a day to care, “I assume you’ve already contacted Amatsu.”

Yua looked away, scowling slightly. “… He’s on his way.” She admittedly softly, then sighed again. “He’s not going to be happy, though. Our hope was to try and figure out the cause of the the issue via Horobi’s memory But…” She moved carefully around the HumaGear’s body to look pointedly at Isamu, “… That’s a little hard to do when someone put a bullet through his central hard drive.” Aruto blinked in surprise, then whirled around to stare at Vulcan.

Isamu glanced briefly up at them, expression still as dour as before. “Don’t start, Yaiba.” The words were a growl.

Yua ignored them, striding over to him, annoyance creeping into her expression. “If he wasn’t a threat, you should have just waited for us. There was no need-”

“I said,” Vulcan snarled, shouldering himself up from the wall to face her, meeting her judgement with a glare of his own, “Don’t. Start.”

Valkyrie, however, did not back down, her voice a furious hiss. “It wasn’t your call to make!”

“You’re right, it wasn’t.” Isamu’s voice just as intense, and uncharacteristically quiet. “And I didn’t make it.”

Yua started, surprised out of her irritation. She stared at him. “You… You mean…”

He heaved a deep sigh, slouching back like he was folding into himself, his own glare breaking into the same stricken look he’d had before. “I just pulled the trigger for him, Yaiba.” He murmured, shaking his head slightly, voice beginning to tremble. “That’s all I did.”

Aruto bit his lip, turning away to look back down at the covered body at his feet. He could just see the fringe of Horobi’s hair poking out from beneath the top edge of the tarp, and blue-stained fingertips were visible under the side—near Jin’s exposed, damaged hand. Izu, finished scanning the room, came over and knelt between the two bodies, tilting her head, earpieces and eyes flashing.

She stared at Horobi for a moment. “… Unit inoperable.” She announced, finally, voice as calm as always. “Severe shock damaged detected on head and abdominal areas. Irreparable damage to main hard drive.” Yua gave Isamu a pointed look, but said nothing. Izu rotated her head to gaze at Jin. “Extreme heat and shock damage detected. Unit is inoperable and beyond repair. He is also missing his core processing unit.”

Yua frowned. “What?” She crossed the floor to stand beside Izu. “The explosion shouldn’t have caused that…” At a small sound, they all looked over at Isamu. He was looking at the floor again, scuffing a foot and scowling even deeper. “… Fuwa?”

Vulcan didn’t look at her. “… I need to make a call.” He grunted, then spun around and disappeared out the door without another word.

Silence filled the room. Izu stayed kneeling between the other two HumaGear, and Aruto crouched down beside her while Yua moved off to talk to one of the techs about how the processor could be missing. After a long stretch of awkward quiet, Aruto took a deep breath, glancing over at his secretary. “Ne, Izu.”

She blinked, looking back at him. “What is it, Aruto-shachou?”

“Is…” He swallowed, “… Is there really nothing we can do about ZAIA?”

The Hiden HumaGear tilted her head to the side in her usual tic. “Amatsu Gai and ZAIA Enterprises hold exclusive legal rights to the unit currently known as Horobi. The only way for another party to attain those rights is for ZAIA to willingly relinquish them.”

Aruto groaned loudly, then punched the ground hard enough to scrape his knuckles. “Damn it!” Scowling deeply, he looked back over the bodies. “… It’s just wrong…”

“That’s not for you to decide, Hiden-shachou.” The condescending tone was immediately identifiable, and it was no surprise when they turned to find Gai, white suit infuriatingly immaculate, standing by the door. He paused briefly in smirking snidely at Aruto to look down at the floor, lifting his feet to check the bottoms of his shoes. “Really wish you’d cleaned up a little, though. This stuff is incredibly difficult to get out of shoe soles…”

Aruto surged to his feet, looking ready to start swinging, but Yua appeared immediately between him and the other President, positioning herself like a wall. She was so perfectly equally between them that it was impossible to tell if she was trying to protect Gai or buffering Aruto’s anger like she so often did Isamu’s. “Amatsu-shachou.” She greeted politely, bowing slightly. “Sorry for the trouble.”

Amatsu smirked over her shoulder at Aruto’s glare, then turned his attention to Valkyrie.  “Not at all, though your message was concerning,” The smirk slowly changed into a frown, something that made Aruto feel particularly smug, though he’d had absolutely nothing to do with it, “You said we can’t access Horobi’s memory?”

Yua shook her head. “His hard drive was damaged in the explosion.” She lied smoothly. “As was the entirety of his equipment. If he was keeping backups, they’re gone now, too.”

Gai’s frown shifted into a proper scowl. Skirting around Yua, he walked over to examine the covered bodies—then he crouched down, careful to keep his white suit pants from touching the blue smeared on the cement floor. Pulling a handkerchief out of his breast pocket, he used it to take hold of the edge of the tarp covering Horobi with the very tips of his fingers, peeling it back. Unlike Yua, he didn’t hold up the cloth to shield the HumaGear’s body from view, merely dropping it as quickly as possible so that it was folded over, revealing Horobi’s face and most of his torso.

Aruto started slightly at the sight, though mostly at the abrupt dismissiveness with which Gai completed the action. Horobi’s wounds were actually quite simple—a crack-like cut on the side of his forehead where his head wrap had usually been had smeared blue down the side of his face, and even the heavier damage on his abdomen wasn’t so bad as long as Aruto didn’t look at it too long. The bullet exit wound in his forehead was a clean one, just below his hairline, and his eyes were closed peacefully. Aruto glanced sideways at the condition Jin’s hand was in, and was silently grateful that Amatsu had elected to pull back the tarp over Horobi and not the other HumaGear.

His thoughts were interrupted by Gai himself. “… That looks like a gunshot.”

“Remarkable coincidence.” Yua replied, without missing a beat.

Gai gave her a look, but didn’t press, instead rising without bothering to recover Horobi’s body, stuffing the handkerchief back in his pocket like it disgusted him. “Well,” He announced with a sigh, “No matter.” Jerking his head towards Jin’s body, his smirk returning. “We have that one, anyway.”

Aruto opened his mouth to speak, but someone else behind him cut him off. “If you’re not interested in Horobi…” Everyone, even Gai, jumped slightly, and turned to look back toward the door. Isamu had come back in without any of them realising. He seemed more collected now, and there was a tablet tucked under his arm as he strode over to join them by the bodies, “… Then would you mind signing his rights over to AIMS?”

Aruto gaped at him. “Fuwa-san-”

But Isamu cut him off again. “It would be easier for everyone,” Vulcan explained, voice carefully level, “He’s a major violation of AI law, so we need to impound him, and if you’re still the legal owner… Well, we’d have to be bothering you for permissions constantly.” Isamu held out the tablet to Gai. “It’s easier for everyone,” He repeated—then, “Trust me.” Though Vulcan’s gaze did not waver from Amatsu, Aruto couldn’t shake the inexplicable feeling that the last two words were meant for him.

Gai considered the device being offered to him, then glanced at Yua. She considered, then nodded. “It would be advisable. That way we can avoid any trouble later.”

With a sigh, Amatsu nodded, then took the tablet from Vulcan. He signed multiple times, then handed it back. Isamu made a few taps and swipes himself, then put the device back under his arm. Gai raised his eyebrows. “All done?” When he got a nod in return, he smirked again and took a step back. “Very well, then.” Turning to look back at the two HumaGear, he gestured with his arm toward the still-covered body, beginning to move away, “Then we’ll take Jin-”

“Just a moment.” Isamu’s voice was still calculatedly steady, but there was also another edge to it that sounded almost… Smug.

Gai turned slowly to face him, an eyebrow raised suspiciously. “What is it now, Fuwa-taichou?”

Isamu’s stony expression flickered, cracking to show a small smirk of his own “You just signed over your legal rights to Horobi to AIMS.”

Gai’s head tilted slightly, and he sidled a step back towards Vulcan, eyes narrowing. “… So?”

Isamu, however, merely stared back at him, apparently unruffled by the position of the person before him, who was radiating brewing annoyance and suspicion. “That includes Horobi himself, and all related assets.”

Amatsu groaned loudly, rolling his eyes before hissing, “Is there a point to this, Fuwa-taichou?”

“Horobi built Jin.” Vulcan said the words in the same even tone as before, as if it were  not unusual in the slightest. As the others, from Yua to Izu, started and spun to stare at him, he ignored them, merely meeting Amatsu’s gaze, stare for stare. “Therefore, in the eyes of the law, he is classified as an asset related to Horobi.” Isamu was speaking slowly, as if he felt he needed to spell out the situation, but his tone was steadily becoming more smug. “And therefore, part of the rights you just signed over to us.” The smirked played across Vulcan’s face once more, and stayed there—he even shifted forward slightly, leaning in a bit like he usually did when he got aggressive. “You’re not taking either of them.” Each word was carefully emphasised.

Amatsu was positively shaking with anger. “Then I-”

“You can’t take it back.” Isamu interrupted, almost cheerfully. “It’s already being processed by our legal department. The deal can’t be rescinded without the permission of both parties—and, as the Captain of AIMS, I refuse your request.”

Eyes blazing with rage, to the degree that it was almost hilarious to see—Vulcan the calm one while Gai surged closer to spit in his face, “Do you have any idea how far back you are setting our research?” The ZAIA President snarled.

Remarkably, however, Isamu remained impassive. “Go take apart a smart fridge.” He replied simply, then paused, frowning in thought for a moment. “Or… Maybe not, because I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out your could drive a fridge homicidal, too.”

Gai’s hands were fists at his side. “You’ll regret this, Fuwa Isamu.”

“No,” Isamu answered lightly, I don’t think I will.”

Amatsu had had enough. With one last angry hiss, he shoved past Isamu and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. Silence clung to the room for a long time, Aruto and Izu still staring at Isamu, Yua watching after Gai.

After a while, Valkyrie broke the quiet. “Clever.” She murmured, sounding genuinely impressed. “You took advantage of the fact that he was distracted by the success of the mission to sneak the clause by him.”

Isamu rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “If he’d had time to think about it,” He admitted, “He’d’ve realised the loophole. The only chance was to act fast.” Sighing, he looked up at her. “And what about you? You know the laws and contracts even better than I do, and you didn’t warn him. You even pushed him into it.”

Yua was quiet for a moment, heaving a deep sigh of her own, still staring at the door. “…  I was the first one in the room, remember?” She asked quietly, at long last. Then, “… You’re right.” She continued, thoughtfully. “He could drive a fridge homicidal.” Stepping around Isamu, she started toward the exit as well.

“… Yua.” She paused, looking only slightly over her shoulder when Vulcan called after her. Isamu turned to face her, his expression slipping into fondness. “I… I know I’ve never really said it before, and it’s really not my business, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck again, “… Whatever reason you work for that guy… You’re too good for him.” Yua said nothing, merely hesitating for another moment before continuing on her way out—but Aruto would swear he saw her smile.

As the door closed behind Valkyrie, Aruto bit his lip, glancing anxiously sideways at Isamu. “… So…” He began cautiously, “… What are you going to do with the rights?”

Isamu was quiet for a moment, turning slowly around to gaze down at the two HumaGear, specifically Horobi. Finally, he sighed deeply—then held out the tablet in his hand to Aruto. The Hiden President stared at him, then at the device, then back up at the other Rider holding it out. Eventually, Vulcan made an irritated sound and shoved the tablet into his chest, snapping his hand back to force Aruto to catch it so that it didn’t break. “… AIMS will cooperate with Hiden.” Isamu grunted, still watching the HumaGear on the ground rather than the human beside him. “Once we’ve certified that they’re not outfitted with malware or something, we’ll turn them over to you.” Aruto continued staring at him—at last, Vulcan glanced self-consciously sideways at him. “… What?”

“… Nothing… Just…” Aruto hesitated, biting his lip. “I just… Didn’t expect you to stand up for HumaGear like this.”

Isamu scowled, looking back down at Horobi. “… To prove him wrong.” He grunted—then he moved over and crouched down. Taking hold of the tarp, he pulled it carefully back over the HumaGear’s face. Then he rose jerkily, and turned on his heel to trudge toward the door.

“Oi! Wait!” Aruto very nearly stumbled trying to rush after him, and they only just barely reached it at the same time. Aruto suddenly froze with his hand on the knob when he realised Izu wasn’t behind him, and turned back to look for her.

She was still kneeling between the other two HumaGear, head bowed, her body angled in a way that he couldn’t see what she was doing. Beside him, he was aware of Isamu looking back, too. “Hey.” Vulcan didn’t sound angry, at all, just curious. “What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Izu rose, folding her hands at her waist again and crossing over to them. “I apologise for the delay, Aruto-shachou, Fuwa-taichou.” With a small bow, she deftly slipped past both of them, taking the door from Aruto to open it and step through, then continued to hold it open from the other side, waiting expectantly. Aruto and Isamu exchanged glances, then looked back at the bodies. Tears abruptly stung Aruto’s eyes, and he heard Isamu make a sharp intake of breath.

Izu had pulled Horobi’s hand out from under the tarp and tucked it over Jin’s damaged one, curling his fingers around it.

Both Riders stared at the HumaGear’s newly connected hands for a moment. Finally, Aruto tore his eyes away first, turning and leaving the room, reaching out to hold onto Izu’s arm for comfort as he did so. Isamu hesitated a little longer, still staring, his eyes faraway in a painful memory. At long last, he, too, turned away and stepped through the door, brows furrowing again—but when Aruto handed Izu the tablet and reached over and put his other arm around his shoulders, Vulcan accepted the contact without protest, even leaning slightly into it.

Together, the three of them slowly made their way back towards the stairs.

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

Izu is cute, what can I say.

Also I cannot, for the life of me, write for Gai w/out making him an arse. ^^; At least Isamu puts him in his place a bit.

Disclaimer: I know jack about AI laws and legal rights. ^^; Oops.

[jadeile-writes]

Let’s talk about my newest fic spree because I wanna

First Imma talk Zelda. Hazbin will be discussed after. I’ll bold the first line of it so it’s easy to skip there if you’re so inclined.

But Zelda now.

Nobody has actually expressed any concerns about it, but I’m going to imagine that someone is losing sleep over this because it makes me feel important and stuff. And by "it”, I mean the “Shiiiit, she’s jumping fandoms, she is definitely going to abandon all things Zelda now and Adventure Gone Mini will never be finished and also the fandom will probably somehow combust without her, halp!”

That’s a valid concern. That happens a lot with writers, fanartists, and other content creators (and non-creators, but that’s less panic-worthy for most people). So, let me reassure you: I admit I’m a lot less enthusiastic about Mini nowadays, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to abandon it this easily. It started as and still is a passion project, and I’ve actually managed to write it consistently for over a year now, which is unheard of with me.

I’ve admittedly occasionally considered taking a break from it, but I’m well aware that if I stop writing it for any amount of time, chances are I’ll procrastinate getting back to it until eventually it’s officially forever unfinished. I’m not willing to risk that, which was actually the reason why I stopped publishing a new chapter every two weeks and switched to three weeks a few months ago. That way my flagging enthusiasm got balanced by having more time to get it done without it being a chore. That works really well, too. I can certainly keep this up since it’s already a routine and I do actually know where the story is going and everything. All I need to do is write it. Sometimes it’s boring and uninspired, sometimes I’m hella happy doing it, but the bottom line is that I’m able to do it regardless of my mood for it.

I’m not sure if I’ll do the Mini sequel I’ve occasionally talked about in my comment replies. It may just be that I’ll sigh out of relief when I’m finally done with Mini and decide to simply let it go. I can’t say yet. I mean, the sequel wouldn’t be anything much anyway, just revisiting the characters and places, having Zelda drop by, a peek at Sidon’s magical training, stuff like that, probably in the form of drabble chapters. So it wouldn’t really be that hard to write, but I can’t estimate my inspiration for it at this point. We shall see. It’s still months away, since Mini is far from done.

I’m not sure if I’ll really get back to that Revalink fic I’ve advertised in my blogs here and at Ko-fi, even if I don’t yet actually feel like dropping it. I mean, it’d be a breath of fresh air anyway, since it’s a different ship and timeline (as in, before Calamity). So who knows.

I’m reasonably sure I won’t be starting any new Sidlink fics, though that’s partly because I’ve already explored the ship so thoroughly with the fics I have that it’d feel repetitive. So that’s one thing you shouldn’t hold your breath for. I’m sorry.

As for the fandom as a whole... There’s the sequel to BotW coming up, so it just might toss me right back into the fandom right when I feel like I’m done being super active here (for the record, I typically don’t really leave fandoms forever, I just stop being obsessed). So, there’s still solid hope for more BotW fics in the future. But for now I’m definitely only doing Mini, and then my other fandoms on the side.

Oh, speaking of that. Yes, I’m writing hella lot of fics for Hazbin Hotel, and it might feel like I’m neglecting Mini by using my time for these other fics instead, but that’s not the case. I still have my weekly regular writing hour dedicated to Mini alone; no other fic is being written at that particular slot of time, and Mini keeps being steadily written. The other fics are written at random times, and that time would not be spent on writing Mini even if I stopped writing the other fics. I’d probably just use that time playing Pokémon Sword instead or reading other people’s fanfics or watching youtube or something. So, no need for jealousy or worry there.

Now, let’s talk Hazbin Hotel.

If you’re following me on ffnet or AO3, or simply keep an eye on the new Hazbin fics in general, you may have noticed that I published the first chapter of Aceducation yesterday. The next chapter will be published tomorrow. Yay! And the last chapter will be up this Thursday. Excite!

I’m actually very proud of the fact that I got a grip and wrote the last chapter that quickly after promising I’d get it done soon.

...Yes, of course there is an ulterior motive for being so prompt about it.

And that motive is that I want to start publishing “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”, or Afterlife for short, soon. I mean, since I plan on publishing one chapter a week, I already have a buffer of seven weeks at hand (yes, I finished chapter six today, so there is no longer an awkward gap between chapters there). That’s a long time to be used to write more, and also a long time for me to wait for my readers to catch up to the new stuff cause I’m excited about everything and I want you guys to see it : | So, I don’t want to wait any longer.

I don’t want to be wasteful about my general fic output by publishing all the fics at once, tho, so I needed to get the shorter fic, Aceducation, out of the way. That is, unless I wanted to hold onto it until after Afterlife was done, which would be months away with the once-a-week-and-over-ten-chapters schedule. Hence, suddenly a lot of motivation to get it done and published asap XD

Now, the question on your mind should be “Okay, so when do we get the first chapter of Afterlife?” And I have already decided on the answer: 6th of December.

Why that date? Multiple reasons. Starting with the fact that Aceducation will take until Thursday to be fully published, and I’m not publishing both fics at once. Secondly, since I update this blog on Saturdays, I want to hold on publishing the first chapter of Afterlife until after the next Saturday, purely so that I can officially put the posting date on the Update blog and post a spoiler snippet of the first chapter here before the actual publishing. Thirdly, and this is a long game reason, because of my Zelda epic, Adventure Gone Mini. I update Mini every three weeks on Wednesdays. Now, Sunday and Monday would be viable options for a weekly updating of another chapter fic, but I just don’t wanna. Tuesday is not an option, because then I’d be flooded with Hazbin feedback on Wednesday and that’d distract me from Mini (although that’s what I’m doing with Aceducation right now, ironically enough). Thursday I’ll be receiving feedback from Mini, so that’d be distracting me from Afterlife. But Friday works well long term, so Friday it is : D

If you feel like you can’t wait that long for the first chapter of Afterlife... well, I have it worse, trust me. I’m dying to post right this damn second XD That damn itch started the moment I finished writing chapter six today and was like “Huh, now I have seven consecutive chapters done. That’s seven weeks of content, and took me maybe two weeks to write. I now have seven weeks to write the rest of this fic, and obviously every finished chapter will bump that by one more week. ... ... why aren’t I already publishing the first chapter so that my future readers can start reading already agdakhdgkagdkga!!”

So yeah, I suppose that’s all I have to say. And this essay is about 1400 words long, which I would happily publish as a oneshot or a chapter if this was a fanfic. Can’t I stop being a writer for one damn second? Heh, see you around, my lovely readers!

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

The (indie) Kids Are(n’t) Alright.

[piece by Nick Southall of Stylus Magazine which has sadly been defunct since 2007; I’m reposting it here because I had to dig through the internet archive to find it]

The following was posted by one of our readers in the comments section of our recent Top 50 Singles of 2005 article. 

Posted 12/09/2005 - 08:07:34 AM by tintin1000: i hate this list. but before i get into a rant, i shall tell you all the "rules" which i relied upon to come to the conclusion that this list is a pile of steaming bullshit. (a) this is a snobby list (b) i understand that this is a list of singles, so it cannot include bands like deerhoof or anything because they don't HAVE singles, but ... (c) this is a lame attempt at justifying why you guys like top 40 chart songs ... a shoddly constructed "logical" justification of listening to top 40 songs, with the "indie mag," stylus, as a sort of buffer ... "oh -- we're really into indie music, so that means we can accept pop music from an "elevated" plane of existence or some bullshit like that. okay -- who the hell thinks that the friggin' backstreet boys write "better" songs than the mountain goats?! than the futureheads!? uh ... and sure -- the concept of r. kelly's trapt in the closet is cool, i think, but how in the hell do you distinguish which gwen stefani single is the "best" on the album? is it the originality of the song? nope? is it in the creativity? nope. is it the craftmanship? nope. is it the songwriting? nope. as far as i can tell, you guys compiled a list that should be dubbed "best singles that will get you crunked in 2005," but since you worded everything so perfectly, it sounds like there is an actual intellectual, logical reason behind the creation of the fucking whisper song. the whisper song is about fucking. since when has fucking merited any artistic credibilty? just plain, raw, primitive sex? if you guys like to dance to this shit, cool ... but don't be dumbasses and pretend that you listen to this shit because you actually think it actually has a true artistic quality to it ... damn. 

I usually try and avoid responding directly to people in the comments boxes, unless they ask a specific question about a piece or raise a factual error, because I think it’s slightly unbecoming for writers to be trawling their own work looking for flame wars, but I couldn’t help but respond to our friend tintin1000, initially with a couple of short notes in the comments box, and now here, in more length and with more thought. 

tintin1000 isn’t alone in his indi(e)gnation (I’m sorry, that’s a terrible forced pun)—you can see dozens, if not hundreds of other people spilling outraged bile into the comments boxes every week in protest at our temerity in choosing to review a country record favourably (and I’m not talking about Lambchop or Uncle Tupelo) or vote Kelly Clarkson as our single of the year ahead of, say, the latest 7” by The Ambivalent Corduroy Medical Students on Squirrel Records which features nine Canadian college graduates banging ukuleles and broken harpsichords and singing about their guinea pig’s gravestone. What’s wrong with us? Why are we pretending to like such manipulative top 40 pop shit? How could we possibly be so short-sighted as to not see the genius inherent in something like Pig On A Stick’s masterful limited edition EP, I’m Ugly, I’m Lonely, All My Friends Are Dead?!Especially when we lavish such shallow, fetishistic praise on hollow, manufactured acts. 

The thing is that Stylus has always loved pop, hip-hop and r’n’b singles, consistently voting them highly in the end-of-year singles lists over the last three years. Just look at the Singles Jukebox articles from the last 9 months—pop music is something we love and something we cover—we’ve never claimed to be an indie website any more than we’ve claimed to be an IDM website (something we used to get accused of every so often when we began). If you’re still not convinced, take a look at the Mission Statement; all we’ve ever been bothered about covering is music, not specific genres. 

So why are indieboys still so vehemently disgusted by our (un)surprising pop-centricity, our schizeclecticism, by the fact that some of us like country records and others like pop records and yet others really do enjoy Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (I’m still not entirely convinced that that particular band isn’t a complex hoax perpetrated by Derek Miller)? I’d wager, for a start, that the majority of our most vocal indieboy naysayers are probably in their late teens rather than their mid-to-late 20s, and that the music they like isn’t just a sonic preference based on what tickles the hairs in their ears in a pleasant way, but that it is a much more deep-seated culture-aesthetic choice. A choice as much about identity as music, perhaps. 

Which is fine, because adolescent cultural choices—hell, adult cultural choices too—are about identity. They’re about peer groups and aspirations and association. The music you like may well help determine the clothes you wear, the friends you keep, how you cut your hair—it’ll certainly determine which clubs or gigs you go to, and who you go with. It’s a chicken / egg conundrum, though, as to which comes first—the music or the identity. Do you like this music because of who you are, or are you making a definite effort to determine who you are and using the music as a tool to do so? Because like it or not, and whether you’re aware of it or not, your cultural choices are a signifier pointing towards who you are. 

Here are a handful of bands and what liking them says about you: 

Interpol - “I am deep, moody, urban and edgy, given to pathos and bad poetry. Please have sex with me, but don’t expect an orgasm.” 

Bright Eyes - “I have read a book about true love and am too scared to treat you badly. Please don’t have sex with me, as I will cry.” 

Embrace - “I really am in it for the music, because the public perception of my favourite band is terrible. Please have sex with me in a slightly dull, monogamous way.” 

Kompakt-style techno - “I transcend the body-mind divide by being intellectually into dancing. Please have sex with me on drugs.” 

Bloc Party - “I am very cool but not as alternative as I’d like to think, and I wish I knew more black people. Please have sex with me, but be careful not to mess-up my hair.” 

Girls Aloud - “I am a shallow pop whore. Let’s fuck! But it will be without true, meaningful emotion.” 

Arcade Fire - “I am into way more cool and obscure stuff than anyone else. Please let me say I had sex with you ages ago, before anyone else.” 

Oasis - “I am a piss-throwing troglodyte misogynist. I am going to date-rape you.”

Each of these assumptions says as much about the inferer as the inferred, if not more so. Each one is a value judgement based on cultural baggage, and everyone’s cultural baggage is different. Most internet-based discussion of music that I’ve come across deals not with what people like, but with what people dislike. What people like is a matter of assumption, some kind of unspoken test to see whether someone is cool enough to be spoken to, to be let into the secret club. You wouldn’t want someone uncool hanging around with the cool kids (on a messageboard, natch) and making them uncool by association because they like, heaven forbid, “The Whisper Song”, would you? 

Ah, “The Whisper Song.” Here’s what tintin1000 said about it: it sounds like there is an actual intellectual, logical reason behind the creation of the fucking whisper song. the whisper song is about fucking. since when has fucking merited any artistic credibilty? just plain, raw, primitive sex? This raises a whole other issue that indieboys can’t stand. Sex. It’s often been stated that indieboys are afraid to dance because they have an intrinsic “fear of the middle of the body,” a post-Victorian-era Catholic / Freudian guilt / paranoia about all things sexual which dates back, perhaps, to Morrissey’s fiercely foppish stance of asexuality and beyond, to Keats or Wordsworth or whoever, and the myth of the sexually-frustrated romantic, the idea that one’s art will be somehow purer if untainted by the dirty touch of lust. But go beyond that, go to Michelangelo sculpting David’s sensuous masculine frame; or all those countless portraits of St. Sebastian, pierced with arrows like an S&M; stunt gone awry, loincloth barely covering his genitals; all those pre-Raphaelite female nudes; every film to ever reveal more flesh than grandmother would like; to Led Zeppelin wailing about plain, raw, primitive sex and John Lennon trying to make the end of “A Day In The Life” sound like a great big musical orgasm. Very few people would question Björk’s artistic credibility, and she’s written countless songs about sex. People are rushing to proclaim Kate Bush’s Aerial a work of genius, and it’s positively dripping with eroticism. Sex is not the be-all-and-end-all of human existence, and to get too caught up in its alluring juices and scents can screw with your head (just ask Michael Douglas or any random Tory politician) but to claim that plain, raw, primitive sex has never inspired any worthwhile art is the folly of the hungry, short-sighted virgin. Pop music in particular (and The Mountain Goats and Deerhoof are as much pop music as Charlotte Church or Sisqo) is about sex. 

And of course sex is key to identity—as if I needed to say that after the assumptions about bands above. Anyone who ever wore skinny jeans or dyed their hair black did so because they wanted some of their idol’s allure by proxy, because they thought that listening to this record and wearing those shoes would get them laid. Everyone. Except me, of course, because I’m above it all. 

The problem with our intrepid hero tintin1000 is that he’s finding his identity, and is thus vulnerable to having the fragile foundations of that identity shaken. And so he sees Mountain Goats, an act he loves for their literate, melodic music made in the cottage-industry style, unadorned by commercial trappings but instead blessed with deep insight into the human condition, at number 50 on our list and is pleased, thinking, hoping and assuming that the rest of the list will continue to reaffirm his identity. Because he trusts Stylus, possibly, as someone he can talk to about these things. And there’s the fucking Ying Yang Twinz, wtf? And Gwen Stefani? And other music that is liked by the people he sees at college or in town and takes an instant dislike to for their shallow natures and unthinking ways, and it jars his assumptions about what it means to like Mountain Goats, about what it says about him when he realises what he thinks liking Kelly Clarkson says about other people. 

The thing is that once you stop worrying about what owning (and more importantly liking) a Girls Aloud record says about you, you can start taking it on its own merits, which are (generally) pretty plentiful. Something like Die Hard is a great film because it knows what it is and what it does and it executes its plan with zero faffing around—there’s no narrative fat in that film (unlike, say, the odious Goodfellas), every single event is a plot device, and there’s joy to be found in such craftsmanship, never mind the actual tangible visceral thrill of the finished article once we get past ontological rumination on the efficiency of the screenplay. Likewise Girls Aloud’s records are faultless exercises in meta-pop constructivism, not so much songs as processions of hooks and choruses with the boring, fatty verses left over for the likes of Okkervil River instead. And, of course, as with Die Hard there is the sheer physical joy of listening to them, of dancing to them, getting caught up in the beats and the insidious melodic hooks, which outweighs even the music-journalistic catnip attraction of playing spot-the-reference. 

And once you’re past the stage of crushing insecurity and aspirational identity positing, the idiocy inherent in statements like how in the hell do you distinguish which gwen stefani single is the "best" on the album? becomes clear. You distinguish your favourite (no such thing as objectivity, kids) Gwen Stefani song on Love Angel Music Baby in exactly the same manner as you would your favourite song on The Sunset Tree—by listening to the record and choosing the song that you like most, for whatever reason(s) it is that you ever like any song. Until your superego stops screaming at you that it’s bad to like Gwen Stefani though, that’s not going to happen. 

It works in stages though, this music / identity nexus. As a child one likes simple things, the multi-coloured hues of pop music perhaps, but once one senses the transition to adulthood one puts away childish things. By writing off whole areas of music for the simple reason that “it’s not the kind of thing someone like me listens to” you are, quite simply, denying yourself a whole lot of pleasures, both frivolous and profound. Malcolm X said in his autobiography that “children have a lesson adults should learn, to not be ashamed of failing, but to get up and try again. Most of us adults are so afraid, so cautious, so 'safe,' and therefore so shrinking and rigid and afraid that it is why so many humans fail. Most middle-aged adults have resigned themselves to failure.” It’s not just failing that we shouldn’t be ashamed of. A major finding in neuroscience in recent years is the extent to which our brains display advanced levels of ‘neural plasticity.’ We are not forever ‘hardwired’ for rigid modes of behaviour; we are not static ‘slaves’ to our DNA. There is a remarkable degree to which we can change ingrained patterns of thought, intention and practice. Our identities are not fixed, are not immutable—admitting that you enjoy a Britney record unironically will not destroy your future character. And that goes for an awful lot of things besides music. 

Of course this is all blatant assumption, and doesn’t mean anything at all. Except, perhaps, that you should give in to your ids, indie kids. 

[theres-no-protocol-for-this]

Necessary Repairs

Part III. I don’t even know if you have to read any of the other parts. SecUnit should probably have slept through most of its own healing, but that’s not this machine’s luck.

Part I | Part II

At some indeterminate point later, I woke up.

I was receiving minimal sensory data, and none of it was sight-related. A diagnostic subroutine spun up and casually began sending me bursts of error messages I couldn't even begin to translate.

Oh, and the world was pitch black.

It took me more than five seconds to determine that the darkness was self-inflicted and open my eyes. Longer still for the random noise to resolve into sounds I could understand -- the hum of an air circulation system, at least two distinct voices, and an automated warning system. My connection to the feed stabilized, but the walls that normally guarded my mind against its onslaught were conspicuously absent.

Something else was shielding me, something big and surprisingly gentle.

Friend?

I could feel cold metal under my back and head, probably the medical suite platform. My internal temperature refused to rise, so I was shivering and couldn't stop. It felt like I was still leaking, and the pain ebbed and flowed with each passing moment.

“Would you like me to turn up the heat?” Transport asked.

Yes. Where the hell am I?

I felt a mild shock as the governor kicked in. It hadn't liked my tone, apparently, or the phrasing of my answer, and wasn't shy about letting me know. The standard code read, "you're outside of protocol and need to adjust your attitude."

Silently, I cursed the damn thing. I was getting used to life without it.

A moment later, Transport answered, "SecUnit, you're still in medical, and your performance rating, while stable, remains abysmally low."

The ship paused and sent me a couple of data packets that succinctly described all the things still wrong -- which was most of them. I should've probably remained in stasis, but the medical unit was calibrated for humans. So, it hadn't given me nearly enough sedative to knock out the organic parts of a construct for any appreciable amount of time.

I was awake, kind of.

"I'm waiting for your vital signs to improve," Transport added. "Until then, would you like to watch an episode of that one show you liked?"

Yes, please.

The ship's calm tone reassured me, even though everything else looked like shit. My diagnostics were coming back with nonsense, still. The governor couldn't find a SecSystem to connect with. The Traveler didn't have or need one of those; it had a skeleton HubSystem instead managed security, life support, and logistics. My inflexible governor couldn't figure out how to interface with it.

Surprise, surprise...

It fell back on some preprogrammed garbage, complete with a minimal set of actions and responses. "Yes, please" and "No, thank you" was probably the best I could manage at the moment without incurring its wrath. I'd try poking at it later when my performance no longer looked quite so dramatically sad.

Captain Owens pulled up a chair and sat down where she could see me. Transport shared the view from one of its cameras, so now I could see her, too. It also queued up an episode of a long-running serial and waited for the captain before it started playing. I wanted to ask about the hostiles but couldn't -- thanks governor -- and Transport didn't seem inclined to enlighten me.

I suppose it was only fair; it was doing its best to keep me calm.

MedSystem sorted out the sleeping issue in the meantime and had injected more sedatives into my resupply channel, so sleep was happening shortly, whether I liked it or not. I could practically feel my diagnostics slowing down to a crawl since they relied on data from my organic parts, which were affected by the drugs.

"Good afternoon, SecUnit. I'm glad to see you're awake." The captain nodded in my direction and then turned toward someone I couldn't see. "As I mentioned, thanks to SecUnit, we came out of the boarding attempt in one piece. I'm sorry to hear your ship wasn't as lucky."

A stranger in formal wear came into camera view as he approached Owens. I figured he was the owner of that second voice I hadn't been able to identify earlier. The logo on his tunic looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. Parts of my memory felt like tangled network cables.

"Indeed, but this is still better than nothing. I don't suppose you've already contacted your bonding company?"

The captain's face scrunched up in confusion. "We're insured outside of the Corporation Rim," she explained. "I've sent a message, but I'm here pretty much on my own."

Outside of the Rim, everything appeared to work in ways that were incompatible with corporation control.  A lot of the propaganda around freehold planets implied they were a complete shitshow. Except, clearly, the Traveler was doing just fine.

I had a sudden burst of "bad feeling" in my organic neural tissue. Something about the newcomer didn't sit right with me. I thought it might be unwise for the captain to tell him anything about herself or her ship.

"No, thank you." It sounded like my voice, but I didn't remember speaking. Hi buffer, I thought I'd never see you again.

The newcomer gave me a puzzled glance. "So, where'd you get your unit then?"

Owens shrugged and schooled her expression. I'd seen that face before when she'd spoken to her daughter before our first jump. "I rented it from a friend, as a security consultant. It's doing a great job."

I was?

I mean, the human was alive, and the Traveler had an intact hull, so I guess things weren't terrible. I could practically hear the Transport laughing on a private channel. If I could roll my eyes, I probably would have, but the governor frowned on that sort of thing, and my eyes had closed minutes ago.

"I see. Well, if you wouldn't mind giving us a hand with repairs, we can both be on our way." The man watched the captain like a hawk. "I would also recommend getting your unit checked out at a licensed repair station when you get a chance. With this level of damage, there's no telling what other problems are hiding under the surface."

As far as statements go, it was polite enough, but I didn't like it. It sounded to me like a threat.

Performance rating dropping. Initiating emergency shutdown.

I really would prefer you didn't.

***

Memory fragment:

The mining installation doesn't inspire confidence. There are eight of us and two combat models. Ten security units should be enough to keep a workforce of 153 miners and a dozen more supervisors in line. Everything looks worn and rundown, including the humans.

Protocol dictates that we take shifts. A human has created a schedule to which we adhere. The two combat units are mixed in with the rest of us.

It's my patrol shift. I walk through one of the mining shafts and stop at the far end. I can hear a supervisor arguing with two of her employees—something about the rocks they've uncovered. I turn around, ready to head back to the primary installation, when one of the combat units walks up to the three humans.

It has been summoned by the supervisor.

The supervisor tells it to fire on the workers. It does, without question. Bodies crumple to the floor. Then, the supervisor notices me.

***

Transport popped into my feed. "Wake up, SecUnit. How're you feeling?"

"Like I got shot."

The words were out before I could consider the consequences, and I braced for an electric shock -- or worse. Nothing happened. Performance reliability was at 87% and rising steadily. My diagnostics routines had run several times, and the results looked promising. I was also no longer leaking, and most of my organic parts had grown back.

I had two arms again. That was nice.

Transport shared a smiling sigil. Reason unknown. "You did get shot, silly. MedSystem patched you up pretty well. If you're up to it, my captain and I could use your help." It paused and added, "Captain suggested that you might want payment in exchange for services rendered. That's how it works in CR, right?"

I had my doubts about anything actually working in the Corporation Rim. Still, arguing with a clearly sentient ship about theoretical economics didn't sound appealing. I'd rather get shocked again.

"OK," I said aloud and sat up. "Priority question: who was here earlier?"

"Dr. Alexander Soren is the current captain of an ArialHydra exploration vessel. They are stranded in this sector after a pirate attack. Captain Owens speculates that it may be the same group of pirates. We were lucky to have you on board."

Lucky. Right.

I shoved off the platform and crumpled to the floor in a pile of arms and legs. Hi there, limbs. A few minutes later, I managed to get up and stumble around under my own power. I admit to sitting on the floor and trying out my new arm. It didn't have a cannon -- MedSystem didn't have the required parts -- but it was fully functional, otherwise.

"I've seen Dr. Soren before." I couldn't remember where. That bothered me.

"Perhaps you were deployed on one of his survey missions?"

"I don't know."

One of the ship's drones floated into the room, carrying spare clothing, which it dropped directly on my head. I grabbed at the falling fabric and started getting dressed. It was the Traveler's standard-issue uniform, beige and blue and generally not hideous. I missed the protective qualities of armor, but it would've been weird to wander through the ship's pristine, carpeted halls with it on.

Captain Owens walked into the medical room and waved at me and the drone. "I see you're both here and scheming."

"We're not scheming, and technically, I'm everywhere," Transport informed us.

"I don't think you should trust Dr. Soren," I blurted out.

Owens narrowed her eyes. "Do you know anything you'd care to share?"

I shook my head. Constructs don't get gut feelings -- we don't even have a gut to have them with -- and my memories of any encounters with the doctor had been removed. Memory wipes aren't typical, but occasionally, a bonding company or a manufacturer/repair company decides they're necessary. I've had at least one that I know about. I also had no idea how to explain that my organic neurons probably remembered things the rest of me didn't.

"Well, in that case, has Trav told you what we need?" At my puzzled expression, the captain said, "We gave the other ship supplies, and they're almost ready to depart. And they're making a fuss about..." She sighed. "Something. I really don't care. They'll be coming back aboard in a few hours to discuss whatever it is. And I would feel much better if you were there. Just in case. And only if you're feeling up to it."

Protecting humans was literally the only thing I liked about my job. "OK."

"Great. Do you want a weapon?"

"Depends on how threatening you want me to look." Any weapon I wielded would be for show unless the human was in danger. And if she was, I had a miniature cannon hidden inside an arm.

The captain pondered this for a moment. Her face went through a range of expressions that Transport interpreted for me as "Captain Owens thinks the other ship's posturing is stupid and would like to be on her way, but it would be impolite to leave, so here we are." I agreed with the captain's assessment.

Finally, she said, "Let's try without any extra threats and see what happens. The quicker we get this over with, the better."

Transport suggested we spend the time between now and the upcoming meeting watching more of its favorite shows. I agreed.

[jlf23tumble]

1D Day, Hour Two

The file I’m watching on YouTube is much shorter than an hour (44 minutes!!), but that’s because the poster kindly removed the “VT” (shudder) from random countries (it always boils down to [insert country’s name’s] fans wilding, and there’s only so much of that I can take).

Still, hour 2 is fucking ICONIC for many reasons, the biggest being Harry’s barely constrained rage. Yes, Louis’s “done with it all” demeanor on 1D Day is (justifiably) legendary, but Harry’s right there with him (twin flames, y’all). I can’t tell if he’s coked up, genuinely angry, or just passive-aggressively petty because someone told him he had to speak more quickly, much more loudly, and with some enthusiasm, for chrissakes. Oh, he delivers, all right, so much maniacal shouting. Deets under the cut.

Hour 2 is all Lirry, and I, for one, love Lirry, so it’s 44 minutes well spent. Liam tells us, “We’re kicking it off with VT from  France, give it up for France!” (“FRANCAIS!” Harry yells), and after the missing bit of French VT, we’re back to Lirry, with Harry vacillating between murdering the French language (“Mercy boo coo to France”) and shouting “I ATE SNAILS” as his contribution to what they did in France last time they were there (Liam played football with some guys near the Eiffel Tower, fwiw).

The first guest is Dynamo (or, “DYNAMO, EVERYBODY” if you’re Harry), and he’s here for card tricks and more (“OH, SNAP” is Harry’s response to Dynamo nearly twisting his own finger off, and god, it’s horrifying). Harry’s fairly manic through the entirety of the card tricks, but I love Liam because he’s me in every card trick (“I’m glad mine’s easy to remember because I’d probably forget,” which is true of any card you take, like, ever???):

“WHO LOVES MAGIC!” Harry shouts, and there’s a needlessly complicated special interactive trick that gets introduced here, with Dynamo saying that he wrote a prediction on a piece of paper and sealed it in a box at the beginning of the day, so he needs to Harry to keep the key safe. Points if you correctly assumed that Harry will stuff that key right in next to his dick as a joke.

Because nobody rehearsed or prepared for this epic full-day live event, there are all kinds of problems with the cameras, and if you want a fun drinking game to get you hammered within 45 minutes, take a shot every time you see a variation of this (Liam looking vaguely concerned while Harry aggressively points at the sky or the camera while shouting):

A horrifically bad segment that’s a poorly disguised advert for Google Hangouts (lmaoaoaoaooaoaoa) kicks off questions from all over the world (the audio is bad, none of the visuals syncs), but we get some iconic answers to deeply important questions, like, “If you were in the Hunger Games, who would  survive the longest?” Liam says he’d hide and then kill passersby (yikes), and Harry says he’s more of a lover than a fighter, so he’d hide in a tree until it all blew over. Liam: “Oh, yeah, you’re definitely more of a lover.” Harry: “Easy there, Piers Morgan.”

The next question is from a group of girls wearing Christmas sweaters, which annoys Harry because “it’s a whole month and two days early,” but I think his issues are bigger than jumping the gun on holidays (and honestly, the UK doesn’t have the twin buffers of T’day and H’ween, so you KNOW this is just part of his general rage). Anyway, they want to know what other careers these two would be involved with, sans the D, and because they’re five, Liam says spaceman and Harry says baker.

After a series of horrible glitches, the next question is about which superhero they’d be, and me as Harry, blowing a giant raspberry as he ponders this important question with the level of exhaustion he surely must feel, three years into this band/interview technique. Liam can read the room, so he picks this one up and says he’d be Kung-Fu Panda, which makes it easy for Harry to say Hong Kong Fuey (!!!) or Top Cat.

With that mess done, it’s time to “ROLL THE VT!” (according to Harry) for Switzerland, and because the producers here are nothing if not cliché lovers, that means tiny cowbells for Harry to play with when we come back. He quickly tires of this, throws the cowbells off stage, yells “WE NEED A CAMERA,” and walks straight into the call box with the overwhelmed girls from hour 1. These girls are still weeping, but Harry says, “Thank you for listening to the album, you’re getting kicked out, sorry,” in the flattest voice possible, so good cop Liam hurries over to ask the weeping girls which song they liked and usher in two new people.

“Happily” is debuted, but we don’t get to see it, boo, but we do get ushered over to a theater with some contest winners. Or as Harry says, “We’re here backstage to meet some fans who have won a chance to be here…SHUT UP…in our VIP cinema,” and then, “You’re crying…is that because I told you to shut up? I didn’t mean it.” Liam is there again to save the day, but there are lots of sound problems, so it’s hard to tell what’s happening, tbh.

Anyway, these fans get to ask some iconic questions, such as, “What would we find in your fridge?” which gives us this classic from Harry: “I DON’T LIVE ANYWHERE, SO NO FOOD,” as the audience says, “awwwwww” in the background.

There’s a question from a lady on the screen, saying that she’s in front of the X Factor studios, and she wants to know what they would change their audition song to, if they could go back in time, and because Harry’s well aware of his various stalkers, he says, “I saw her the other day at the X Factor studios, 100 percent” (fwiw, Harry would do “Wrecking Ball” with props, and Liam would do “Mirrors”).

The last question is what they would change if they could go back in time, and Liam says probably his older haircuts, and Harry says that one day in April (and he mentions April again later in the hour, so someone investigate), he had a dodgy breakfast burrito, so he’d probably change that (he also had a dodgy batch of prawns one time, too, but that’s a different story, and god, he’s an underrated comedian). The sound is for shit, but Liam doubts this, prompting Harry to scream, “DON’T JUDGE ME, LIAM, I’M TRYING MY BEST,” and whyyyyyy is he so on fire (and why do I love it so much):

We get back to the studio with an inexplicably breathless Scott Mills (he says he ran…but from where, lmao) and do another spin to figure out who the official 1D account (????) will follow on twitter. Harry starts cheating before people start yelling at him to stop, which is a shame, really, just follow all of these poor bastards, honestly!

We don’t get to see the VT from Germany, but we do get to see Lirry bickering about camera problems and stolen lines, plus an exhaustive rundown of all the thrilling things to come, and I’m so thankful to the person who made this moment a Dua Lipa meme all those months ago:

One of my favorite segments has a really awkward setup, but tl/dr/dw, Harry brags, “I’m a bit of a chef myself, and if I’m honest, Liam, I’m pretty damned good at it,” so we get a “ROLL VT!” and an aggressive finger point, both from Harry, and a silly but charming cook off with the tour chef, who seems like a lovely lady (p.s. look at how glorious his hair was under all those tablecloths…also, he’s chewing gum in a gross way, but this whole bit is worth watching in full):

The cook off is genuinely funny and results in a beautiful pavlova from Sarah and a basic sandwich (with pickle and paprika) from Harry, judged by Mark Jarvis, Gemma Styles, and Lou Teasdale, all of whom Harry bribes. I’m more fascinated with this ring, and my head canon has it either saying ILY or JEN (both of which make me smile):

With that bit over, we move on to more rapping of random tweets, and it’s embarrassing, so I won’t get into that. But the VT of Liam surfing is something special, not only because he looks so obviously happy while he’s doing it, but also because he says some very profound things in the interview around it: “I get followed a lot, so it’s quite nice to get out in the sea where nobody can follow you […] it’s so nice and peaceful […] it doesn’t matter what you look like, you can just have a good time, it’s a bit of an escape,” and ouchhhhhh, that’s some real talk.

We head back to the studio for a fashion segment with Louise someone; a handful of lucky fans in Sweden won a t-shirt design contest, and Lirry are gonna do some modeling. Louise is happy that Harry knows where Sweden is (Harry:  “I got a B in geography…might have been a C, can’t remember”), and some poor shlub working on this trainwreck in the shadow gets dragged out on camera because he’s wearing green jeans, but he’s not there for long (Harry: “GET OUT” *shove*). Louise describes the fashion show to come, and Harry says that he’s quite good at walking in straight lines, but Liam reminds him that he tends to fall over a lot on stage and that the tiny catwalk is actually pretty shiny (god bless Liam for being so responsible).

Luckily for all of us, professional model Cindy Crawford is there to help with some tips (she’s introduced as “IT’S ONLY BLOODY CINDY CRAWFORD” by Harry, and I die with Cindy’s “Hello, boys,” and Harry’s “Hello, Mrs. Crawford”…followed swiftly by Cindy’s, “Please don’t call me Mrs. Crawford”). There’s some sexi modeling, and even though he only wears two shirts to Harry’s three (*and* Harry gets down on the ground to pose), Liam wins, according to the Swedes. He requests a model  off with Cindy as his prize, and he’s surprisingly good?

The last segment is with Dynamo, the magic man, and for some reason, Harry’s weirdly agro about his own shirt mic, like, unnecessarily so, ripping it off to speak with Dynamo before gently putting it back where it belongs. Maybe he’s just frustrated about how they have to use Google+ (lololololol) for a totally convoluted imaginary concert that ultimately doesn’t work (me as him, tbh). 

While Liam does tech support live on air (!!), Harry asks Dynamo to do some card tricks to stall for time after literally nobody says a word when he monotones, “We’re having a technical difficulty…does anybody know any jokes.” Harry pulls a card as directed, but then, for seemingly no reason, he suddenly starts yelling, “THIS ISN’T WORKING, SHALL WE SEE SOME HIGHLIGHTS? HIGHLIGHTS!!! ROLL HIGHLIGHTS [aggressive pointing]!!” and the highlights are truly awful, and I hope he’s enjoying his smoke break for hour 3, jfc.

[walkerismychoice]

Faking It (Damien X MC)

Book: Perfect Match

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1967

Author’s Note: This part 6 in the series chronicling my head-cannon of Damien and MC’s relationship up to present day, explaining why they have never been more than friends. I thought this would be the last part, but I’m not sure now based on the way I ended it. Parts 1-5 are linked below

Tag List: @lizeboredom @hhiggs 

Part 1: For Safety | Part 2: Man of the Hour | Part 3: Sticky Situation

Part 4: Betrayal | Part 5: Bad Decisions

Kai woke up after her drunken night out with a wicked hangover. Her memory was spotty, but the details started slowly coming back as she sat and sipped her coffee. Oh god, I want to crawl in a hole and die, she thought.

Nadia walked out of the bathroom all dressed and ready for the day, looking like her typical perky self. “Look who’s finally awake! You had quite an interesting night last night.”

“Please don’t remind me. Playing it over in my mind is bad enough. But as strange as it may seem, I think it was good for me.”

“Oh?” Nadia waited for Kai to elaborate.

“I’m not sure exactly what did it, but I feel different today. I’m ready to take back control of my life and move on. I’m on track for a promotion at the ad agency, I have the best roommate in the world, and I live in a city full of possibilities. What more could I need?

"What about Damien?” Nadia asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t really resolved things with him yet, have you?”

“I did drunk text him last him last night if that counts for anything,” Kai admitted.

“I know,” Nadia replied. “He texted me after to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh no, what did you tell him?”

“Well I didn’t tell him you nearly banged a random guy in a bathroom, but I did say he was helpful in keeping you from making a regrettable decision.”

“Nadia! First of all, I told you we were never to bring that up again. Secondly, you better hope he never makes me explain what you meant.”

“Does that mean you forgive him and we can all be best friends again?” Nadia asked hopefully.

“I wouldn’t go that far yet, but I am ready to talk things out with him.”

=====

Damien was a little surprised to get a text already the next morning from Kai. She wanted to get together to discuss everything. Damien was out of town visiting family for the weekend, and then they were both swamped at work during the week, so they decided Friday night would be best. As it turned out, Nadia had a date with the guy she met at the club when she and Kai and went out, so it would just be him and Kai. He was both nervous and happy about this. They wouldn’t have Nadia as a mediator, but it was probably for the best that it was just the two of them in the conversation.

Damien picked up Thai food from Bangkok House on the way. He knew that always helped make Kai happy. As he knocked on her door, he felt almost as anxious as the first time.

=====

“Hey Damien.” He looked so cute and he brought food. It would be hard for Kai to stay mad at him. “Thinking you can bring my favorite food and all will be forgiven?”

“Damn, is my plan that transparent?” Damien smiled shyly and Kai melted little more.

“Well it’s working a little, but we still need to talk. Let’s eat and then we’ll get to the tough part.” Kai sat down at the table and Damien followed.

After too much food and a glass of wine. Kai was ready. “So Damien, I just want to say-”

“No please let me go first. I should have trusted you from the start and come to you right away when I thought something was up.”

“As hard as it is for me to admit Damien, you did have a point about wanting to gather evidence first. I might have gotten angry at you just for questioning Kyle’s loyalty. And had you been wrong, I would have been mad you got me worried for nothing. Can we both agree there was no easy answer? It was all too much to handle, and I lashed out at you. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks Kai. I’m sorry too. Does this mean we are friends again? Because I really missed you too.”

“Oh, sorry about the drunk texting at 2am. But at least it helped us get back here. I’m not going to let anything get in the way of our friendship again.”

=====

“Oh, great….” Kai rolled her eyes and held up the invitation for Nadia to read. “Stacy Peters is getting married.”

Stacy and Kai had been sorority sisters in college. They were friends but there was always an unspoken rivalry between them in everything they did. Now Stacey was getting married and all Kai had was a failed engagement nearly a year ago. Of course Kai had a lot of other good things going for her, but she was not looking forward to comments about Kyle, or the hundreds of times she was sure to be asked if she was dating someone new.

Kai joked to Nadia, “I think I need to hire a fake boyfriend for the wedding like they do in the movies.”

“I know you were mostly joking, but I think I know someone who would be willing to play that role for free. He might not even have to fake it.”

“Nadia if you are talking about Damien, we are, and always will be, just friends. But…I might just be desperate enough to ask him.”

Kai would be lying to herself if she said there weren’t still feelings there. But after everything she went through, and they went through, she wasn’t willing to lose Damien’s friendship again if things didn’t work out. She could ask Damien to do this though. He could be her totally platonic buffer from unwanted personal questions.

=====

Damien couldn’t believe he agreed to be Kai’s fake wedding date. Well that was a lie. He would do just about anything for her; He even bought a new suit to look the part. But big fancy weddings were just not his thing. Getting to spend time alone with Kai would be the only thing that made it tolerable. 

Damien and Kai arrived at the hotel to check in and get ready for the wedding. They had booked one room since they were pretending to be a couple, but that wouldn’t be a big deal since there were two beds.

“Hi, can I have the last names on the reservation?” The hotel clerk asked.

“Park and Nazario,” Kai replied.

The clerk typed in the names. “Oh, it looks like you booked a double queen room, but all we have left is single king beds. Will that be all right?”

“Well this is looking more and more like a cliché romantic comedy by the minute. Are you sure Nadia didn’t set this up?” Damien quipped sarcastically.

“Damien! Kai hit him playfully and then turn to the clerk. “Yes, my boyfriend and I are fine sharing a bed.”

Damien knew Kai was just putting on a show, but hearing her call him her boyfriend gave him butterflies in his stomach. This wedding was a bad idea. He was going to slip and let his feelings show soon if he wasn’t more careful.

Once in the hotel room, Kai retreated to the bathroom to get ready and Damien got dressed in the room. After a while Kai called to Damien, “Can you help zip up my dress?”

She walked out the bathroom door and Damien was in awe. Kai looked stunning. She was wearing a fitted deep red dress with a lace overlay and plunging neckline. It looked like it was made for her. He tentatively placed his left hand on the small of her back and zipped up her dress with care. He was close enough to smell her hair, and her scent was intoxicating. He thought he heard her breath quicken, but he was probably just imagining it. “Wow, you friends are all going to wonder how I ever snagged a woman like you. You look great.”

“I don’t know Damien. I could say the same about you. That suit fits you like a glove. I think we make a pretty good looking fake couple.”

=====

Kai could still feel the ghost of Damien’s touch on her lower back as they walked to the ceremony. Why did such an innocent touch affect her so much?

The ceremony was a bore, but at least it was short. The reception had an open bar. Maybe she would be able to get Damien on the dance floor tonight. “How many drinks will it take to get you dancing Damien?”

“I’m not sure if I have ever had enough to find out.”

“Well, couples usually dance at weddings. You might have no choice.”

Damien smirked at Kai. “I feel like I’m being conned here, but whatever you say babe.”

Kai’s cheeks started to flush a bit when Damien called her babe. Luckily, Stacy and her new husband Andrew walked up just then. “Congratulations Stacy! And nice to meet you Andrew,” Kai said as she hugged Stacy and shook Andrews hand.

“It’s been too long Kai. I’m so glad you could make it. And this must be your plus one.” Stacy studied Damien from head to toe. He’s cute. I approve.”

Kai laughed. “Yes this is Damien. He’s my trophy boyfriend. I keep him around because he makes me look good. It was Kai’s turn to make Damien blush as his cheeks turned bright red.

“Okay ladies, enough about me. I’m sure Stacy and Andrew have more people to greet.”

Kai and Damien got a couple more drinks and had fun talking and making fun of the probably expensive but completely gaudy wedding décor. By some twist of fate, Kai caught the bouquet and Damien caught the garter. Not only would Damien be forced to dance with her, but they would have the solo spotlight with everyone watching. Well, Kai tried hard for the bouquet, but the garter basically fell into Damien’s lap.

“Of course they chose to do this cheesy and outdated wedding tradition. I would say you orchestrated this whole thing, but I don’t even know how you could. Guess I just have bad luck.” Damien shook his head.

“Hey now, is dancing with me really that bad?”

“Kai, I know you are trying to impress your friends. Dancing with me will probably have the opposite effect.”

“Nonsense. Let’s go.”

“A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri started to play. “I think that means we should start dancing now Damien.” Kai put her arms around Damien’s shoulders. Damien awkwardly put his hands on Kai’s hips. It was if he was afraid to touch her.

“Damien, you can get a little closer than that.” He inched closer to Kai. It was an improvement, but still a bit like two seventh graders at their first school dance. Kai didn’t want to keep nagging him so they danced that way for a while, but she couldn’t take the awkwardness anymore.

“Seriously Damien, it looks more like I’m being forced to dance with my bother at a family wedding than dancing with my boyfriend.”

In one swift motion, Damien pulled Kai’s body tight against his. He leaned in and whispered in a husky voice, “Would your brother do this?” Before Kai knew what was happening, Damien’s lips came crashing down on hers, his hands twining in her hair. She stood stunned and motionless at first but then kissed him back with equal passion. The kiss ignited a fire through her body like she had never felt before. It seemed like minutes passed before they pulled away breathlessly. The song ended at that moment and Kai stood speechless.

Damien gazed into Kai’s eyes intently, his emotions difficult to discern. “If they weren’t convinced before, they definitely are now. If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” Damien walked away and left Kai alone to process what had just happened.”

[orionsangel86]

Destiel Going Canon? Key themes to look out for...

So I recently answered this ask and mentioned that I have a few key indicators that I am looking out for in the show which for me personally, will confirm the path the writers are taking in relation to endgame Destiel. I wasn’t thinking too much at the time about outlining those indicators, but since both @destielrose and @carasauruswrex asked me to talk about them, as well as getting the below ask from a nonny:

I figured I’d talk about about the kind of indicators I’m looking for. 

Usually I don’t like going on about this stuff too much because there is always a risk that too many people will take my random indicators really seriously and start seriously getting upset with the show if they don’t actually happen, and I don’t want that to be the case. Also because ultimately I have no idea how they are planning to progress this story regarding Bi!Dean and Destiel and anything I say is pure speculation based on my own logical understanding of how to build a decent narrative that would make sense to the audience.

The fact also remains that even if we DO get all the indicators I may mention, it still doesn’t actually mean 100% the writers will go ahead and make destiel an undeniably canon pairing. I can’t predict the future, I just happen to like looking into all this stuff and asking why when certain themes are continuously used in a narrative. So please don’t take this post for gospel. It’s all speculation. 

A while back I wrote a post about “preparing the audience” in which I explained how the show has a way of preparing the audience for anything that may surprise it, by adding in “buffers” which acclimatise the audience to certain concepts such as Cas formerly being in a female vessel. I spoke about how this is a clever way of trying to deal with an audience of extremely mixed opinions, political views, intelligence, tolerance, etc. and trying to please everyone whilst taking baby steps towards their own ultimate goals.

When I talk about key indicators for canon endgame destiel, I am talking about the continuation of using these buffers (some examples of which I outlined in that post). When I wrote that post, 12x19 had only just aired, and I was still reeling with utter disbelief that they would include a scene where Dean gives Cas a mixtape in a supremely intimate moment that made me feel like an intruder to my own TV screen. Never would I have begun to imagine that season 13 could have made it so much worse. 

Starting with where we are currently, it can no longer be denied that Dean and Cas love each other deeply. This has been made textual over and over again in season 13 on Dean’s side and was made pretty damn clear in 12x12 on Cas’s side (also arguably in 13x04 though far more subtle). The audience already knows that whatever these guys have, it goes beyond a standard friendship, and also goes beyond a brotherly bond because of the clear comparisons in Cas’s relationship with Dean and his relationship with Sam.

So what are the main hurdles left in order to establish destiel as a legitimate pairing?

The first and most obvious is sexuality. To a heteronormative audience, they would look at both Dean and Cas and say “they are straight guys”. Therefore the main indicators I would be looking for are to do with sexuality and bringing them both out of the closet.

Now Cas has never shown much interest in sex or sexuality, but he has only canonically been with women, so it’s easy to understand why certain people (heteronormative GA people) would still see him as straight. A key indicator then would be to somehow imply that Cas doesn’t give a shit about sexuality and is not straight.

You might want to interrupt me here and say “but Saz, we already had that in 7x01 and in 10x17″! Why YES we did! That’s right! So the key indicators would be LIKE those moments but stronger. For instance having a man flirt with Cas and Cas showing some interest (bonus points if he looks and is dressed like Dean). or we get another “teachable moments” scene between Cas and the boys and Cas specifically asks them about MEN much to their surprise. Cas getting grumpy about them going on about waitresses and instead asks them what they think of the waiter for example. It doesn’t have to be huge, but another reminder of this would be excellent timing.

For DEAN however any indicator for this category would be huge. I wrote a whole bloody post on his bisexual reveal, and I feel that Dean coming out of the closet would be the biggest indicator of them all that Destiel is going canon. Because well, that’s been the whole debate right? It’s the one thing holding the GA back from even CONSIDERING Destiel. “Dean is Straight!” they say. 

So whilst I am partly hoping for a bisexual reveal within this season (or at least early next season) other key indicators would be more noteworthy moments such as 8x13 Aaron scene. Or the glorious confessional scene in 10x16. Something that imo is substantial meat to the bisexual reading that isn’t easily argued away by an anti. Something that is enough to make the GA go “wait a minute...”

Those are obviously the biggest indicators. Though there are other things I would of course think would be huge moments as well.

Sam Winchester being more and more exasperated as per 12x10.

Sam dropping more hints. Conversations like 11x02 for example. Or in light of his current arc saying something to Dean like “you don’t know what it’s like because YOU have CAS”. 

I also think it will be a HUGE deal if either Sam or Dean ADMITS to Cas what it was actually like when Cas was dead during 13x01 to 13x05. Because Cas has NO IDEA. I would prefer this conversation to come from Sam. Sort of in a situation where Dean has an argument with Cas because Cas wants to go off and be a self sacrificial dumbass again for Jack and Dean isn’t happy about it and storms off, and then Sam just says something like “you need to understand Cas, you don’t know what it was like when you were gone. Your death broke my brother. Please don’t die again. Because I’m frightened if that happens I’ll be burning TWO bodies on a pyre...”

The other moments I would be looking out for are small things such as:

Dean’s bedside table moving back to the other side of the bed the way it was in 9x14, 

A picture of Cas in amongst Dean’s current photo collection, or one of Dean on Cas’s phone. 

The mixtape coming back into play somehow. 

Cas moving into the Bunker permanently and being shown to have his own room (this was an ambiguous topic in 12x19 as it appeared that Dean was running to a room allocated to Cas but it was debated that the room was also used to house Mary at one time so maybe what I’m asking for here is a Bunker room that Cas has personalised somehow.)

Other characters referring to them as a couple again. We used to get this a lot in the earlier seasons, but it hasn’t happened hardly at all recently and I actually consider this quite telling. The change came around the s8 time period which we also consider as the same time that TPTB decided to treat Destiel as a serious narrative in the show. The only times it DID happen after that was in 10x05 which doesn’t really count because it was a celebration of fandom and can be isolated from the actual narrative and also in 10x14 in a deleted scene, and that whole moment seemed less like a joke and more like a serious conversation where BOTH parties involved were admitting their very real and very non platonic love for Dean. It didn’t read the same way as the earlier characters joking about them being boyfriends, it read far too serious (which is why I think it was cut). So to bring this back, to have people like Rowena, Anael, Ketch, even Claire or Alex or someone non threatening, start referring to them as a couple to get a rise out of them would be interesting, because it would also be textually reminding the general audience that this is *a thing* in this show and get them thinking about it again... buffers people. Buffers are important. 

More scenes together/ shots where they are literally together. It has been the case in the later seasons that Dean and Cas have been separated quite a lot due to various plot reasons. I also stand by my own reasoning that if they did keep them together, the scenes between them at this point would be so freaking intimate it would be hard to watch without feeling like an intruder (10x03 and 12x19 are obvious examples of this) so for the writers to start introducing MORE scenes of Dean and Cas TOGETHER (and more specifically together and alone) it would be interesting to see their interactions and if they build on the destiel subplot - because they can hardly avoid it. Just having them interact in intimate ways is the best way now to start getting the audience used to what should in theory hopefully become a canon romantic relationship.

That’s everything I have right now. But like I said above I stress that none of these things would actually MEAN Destiel is going canon (except maybe a coming out episode for Dean) just that they would make me feel more and more convinced of the writers plan if they WERE introduced, whereas if we do just happily plod along in season 13 and NONE of the above happen at all, then I will definitely feel a bit disappointed. At the same time even if they don’t introduce any of the above, they may instead introduce a whole bunch of other stuff that I absolutely couldn’t have predicted (like the MIXTAPE) and throw me totally off guard. 

Ultimately, if we get another run of episodes like 12x10 - 12x12 and 12x19 I will be extremely happily and on cloud 9 about my feelings for destiel. Those episodes alone already raised my hopes and expectations for it as endgame, and season 13 episodes 1-6 solidified that, so really they can only go up from here. It’s just a case of ensuring that the show remains on track towards canon destiel rather than derailing somewhere along the line, but as of this moment this canon train definitely hasn’t derailed.

[zenosanalytic]

Discovery: Despite Yourself

Ok, so obvsl I’ve already watched this one so it’s a second viewing, but I tried to get at my initial reactions even if, now, from a perspective of having seen up to ep 12.

Saru says “almost nothing else is where it’s supposed to be!” having the position of celestial bodies be different in the Mirrorverse is wonderful attention to detail ouo Having even their targeting computers and sensors confused is another great way to convey that the MV is different down to the atomic level.

“Quantum signature” is typical technobabble, but functional and better than the obsession with “resonance” in the more string-theory-obsessed 90s.

I’ve never noticed it before, but one of their casting directors is named Orly Sitowitz. Imagine living to see your perfectly ordinary name rendered unfortunate by Memes :|

Another clue for Lorca’s jump double-cross I missed the first time: he claims Stamets was “eager” to work with him on multiple universe tech after the war. Taking advantage of Stamets’s non-responsive state puts a time-limit on his plans which I’m not sure really fits with how nebulous they end up being, but I guess there’s little choice. Also: maybe he was hoping communication with Discovery would be difficult once he got Burnham off the ship.

The cloak algorithm! The first time I watched that I didn’t really think about it, but if Discovery ever had made it back, then Klingon cloak-tech would have been useless. So either 1)Discovery doesn’t make it back or 2)this is a way to allow the Klingons to still get their cloak tech from the Romulans as pre-Disc canon states; the Fed has a solution to their “native” cloak tech, but then they bought a different vers from the Romulans that was invulnerable to the algorithm.

Unrelated, but I just realized that the way Disc establishes Klingon cloak -as a secret specific to T’Kuvma’s house before the war- works really well with the idea of Klingon tech being based mostly on salvaging from Hur’q tech after they were driven off. If the only surviving Hur’q ship with a cloaking device able to be studied belonged to T’Kuvma’s ancestors for some reason, then it’d make sense that they’d keep its secrets to themselves in an aristocratic society like theirs. I doubt that’s what they were going for, of course.

He waves them off even LOOKING at the NavLogs: yeah that wasn’t suspicious at all X| X| I do like, however, the way the writers have him do that -defraying suspicion by blaming himself, bamboozling them with a believable but technical explanation, then using emotional appeal through hyping the danger of the situation to direct their attention elsewhere-, which is the way an actual manipulator would protect themselves in that situation. Stuff like this is the difference between writers who know what they’re talking about, and writers faking it by writing what they think a certain type of character should be like based on tropes.

Tilly is so great, and I love that they allow her to know things, and to use that knowledge creatively. Rare to see women characters written like that, and rarer still when the character is not just allowed to be emotionally competent, but the Most Emotionally Competent person on the show. Ditto with Culber on that actually: emotional competence does not preclude technical competence and I’m glad for at least one show that doesn’t argue it does.

“Paul is your superior officer; he gave you an order. You’re not responsible for this.” Can I also just say how wonderful this portrayal of a sensitive, nurturing, truth-abiding military organization which cares about the people who make it up Discovery continues to be?

Discovery’s virtual U-Is are excellent, and I like how they activate and use them through specific hand-postures. I don’t really talk about it much, but the “chunkier” sci-fi aspects of Discovery like this are very satisfying.

The intersection of brainwashing, dubcon, secret-agent, double-life, hurt-comfort, psychdrama in the Voq storyline -and particularly the Prayer scene- is just so Delicious&Ficcy owo owo owo

It is both supremely painful, and supremely sympathetic, to watch Burnham open up to someone in a way she never has before, to trust them in a fashion her Vulcan culture completely discourages, and see it used to betray her. I do wish we’d see more flashes of Vulcan in this second half of the season, though.

Tilly’s first attempt at Evil!Tilly ans Issac’s Scottish accent are Wonderful and Good u_u Also well acted.

This is kind of detail oriented but: the “comet” the Fed uses on their command insignia strikes me as almost an inversion of the sword through earth insignia the Empire uses. Don’t know if that’s intentional or just some iconoclastic observation of my own but, if it IS intentional, that’s another great little world-building detail.

That the Emperor would 1)send Burnham to deal with a rebellion personally, and 2) personally respond to Burnham’s death, when their initial intel spoke of a “faceless emperor”(suggesting a buffering bureaucracy) is a big sign they had a personal connection.

The “Destiny” exchange was weird at the time, but much creepier knowing Mirror!Lorca’s history of grooming Burnham.

Obvsl there was nothing on Defiant in the datacube. The Rebels Burnham finds know nothing of the Federation or Defiant(if such intel were on a random datacube, it’d have to be well-known), and the files accessible from Shenzhou are under heavy security(such that Burnham has to access them clandestinely), only to those captain or higher, and heavily redacted even then. And the complete, unredacted files are only available from the Palace-ship. There’s no way the rebels would have gotten access to that.

I feel like Tyler not, actually, being Tyler is going to be important to the Lorca plotline somehow. Like: Perhaps Lorca knew Mirror!Tyler, and that’s why he recruited him, and he’s relying on Tyler to act in certain vague ways like the Tyler he knew(as he is with Burnham and others), but at some significant point Tyler’s going to do something Voqish that upsets Lorca’s plans significantly.

“Well my mother would definitely approve” at her straightened, blonded hair, is such a small line, but it adds so much more nuance to Tilly’s relationship with her mom which, until now, has been portrayed as entirely positive(at least, iirc). Also a bit disappointing that negative attitudes towards curly and red hair still persist in the 23rd century |:T |:T

Burnham’s mastery of metaphor is… Masterful(X| X| X|) “Painted Rust” damn! I wonder if that’s a Vulcan thing; they do love aphorisms

I don’t like that they killed Culber. I understand the narrative inevitability of it -there has to be a payoff to Tyler being, I’m pretty sure, an engram patterned over a surgically altered Voq and Culber’s the only doctor we know on the ship- but given the persistence of “kill your gays” writing, and how good this show typically is on that and many other fronts, I’d have preferred them writing something else. Even if they find a way to “resurrect” him.

Voq knowing all the access codes on Discovery is… Ominous :| :|

The short, shifting look of pride/affection/approval/attraction on Keyla’s face when Burnham walks into the bridge over Connor’s corpse gives me Life u_u

I feel like there is A Lot of Voq in that speech Tyler gives to Burnham at the end of the ep; as if he’s speaking from Voq’s own experience hiding among enemies without realizing it.

[truconsciousramblings]

What's In A Number?

Pairing: Tyler Bate | Reader

Summary: Reader is attracted to and has feelings for Tyler but the age difference gives her pause. Will she let go?

Author’s note: This drove me crazy, LOL and took a while to write but I like it, hope you like it too.

In all seriousness, I’m glad I did this, as I often start stuff in my head or on my devices and I don’t complete them, so I was determined to push myself with this.

This is re-post from a few years ago. Added a few more tags. Hope this finds a new set of readers to enjoy. Muah!

Fluff-ish/Angsty-ish/DEFINITE smut.

A short series of raps sound on my office door.

“Come in. It’s open,” I look up from my laptop to call.

The door opens to reveal a blonde, bearded man. A soft smile on his lips.

“Tyler!” The surprise is evident in my voice.

“You weren’t expectin’ me.” Tyler’s smile shifted to a grin.

I couldn’t help smiling in return. “No, can’t say I was but you know it’s never a bad thing.”

Tyler’s grin grew even wider at my words. He then came to stand further in the office, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.

“You were to see Stephanie?” He queried.

A quizzical look forms, my head tilting in question. “Yeah. How’d you-“

Tyler gave a quick nod to the corridor.

“I saw her out in the halls. Hunter was bundlin’ her off for a last-minute meeting with the shareholders.”

He swept his cap off and set it on the nearby office desk, then gave his hair a quick ruffle.

“She was trying to call you, to tell you she’d have to see you another time. But since she couldn’t get through to ya’ and I was there… She asked me to come tell you.”

I felt more dismayed, the longer Tyler spoke.

I quickly grab my purse from the couch, where I sat and swipe my phone.

4 missed calls.

“Damn!”

At your exclamation, Tyler quickly steps closer. Along the way, hauling one of the chairs that were around the desk, to set it in front of you, taking a seat.  

His concerned gaze washes over you.

“Hey, it’s okay. She wasn’t angry,” Tyler consoled.

Your eyes meet his, full of worry.

“I’m glad but I don’t want Stephanie getting the impression that I’m flaky, that I can’t be depended on to stay in contact with.”

I flick the screen in annoyance. “Stupid phone was on vibrate!”

Tyler chuckles and slips the phone out your grasp, then turns and stretches to slide it on the desk.

A blush blooms in your head, as you find yourself silently tracing the strip of skin that’s revealed when his t-shirt lifts.

Tyler turns back to face you.

He reassures. “Naw, I doubt that. She seemed more concerned that she was missing you guys’ meeting.”

I motion at the stack of papers beside the laptop.

“Yeah. We were supposed to go over the scripts for the next 3 weeks.”

Tyler, with a teasing tone, asks. “Ooh! Am I in it?”

He reaches towards the papers. I smack his fingers and chuckle.

“Hey! That’s not for your eyes.”

 Ty draws his hand protectively to his chest and playfully cradles it.

“Ow!” Tyler sounding mock-hurt.

 I raise an eyebrow, a smile on my lips.

“You’re fine. You’re a big, strong wrestler. That’s probably the most minuscule amount of pain you’ve ever felt.“ 

Tyler leans forward, hair falling a bit in his face. A teasing light in his eyes.

“You think I’m big and strong?”

The huff of laughter leaving me, has me shaking my head. The banter between you just now, reminds you of the early phase of your unexpected friendship.

You’d met, after being assigned the duty of showing Tyler, Pete and Trent around WWE Headquarters, during their preparation for debuting on the main roster. They were collectively funny and charismatic as heck.

Pete, dark and dangerous.

Trent, charming and seductive.

Tyler… Tyler was the unexpected wild card. He, on first flush, seemed like just a sweet puppy. Young and exuberant. After only a couple hours in his company though, you found out there was so much more.

He was so witty, full of quips and irreverent humor. Also, what you found unnerving yet honestly, intriguing? His ability to just look people straight in the eyes. No hesitation, no guile.

This was new to me, as you’re perpetually shy. From a kid, till now. Even if you’ve shed most of it.

Your unexpected connection grew to where, whenever you travel with the crew, you somehow always find each other during shows. Having a quick chat and laugh. Or meeting up for lunch, discussing everything under the sun.

One of those times, you were in catering, grabbing a quick bite. Indulging in a rich slice of cake.

"Is that as sweet as you?"

Your groan, a mash-up with a chuckle, has you turning on hearing the cheesy pickup line. I look up to see Tyler laughing.

"That was so bad," You admonished.

“Yeah, it was.” Tyler agreed shamelessly and cheerfully. He slid on the bench beside you, placing his own food down.

This ease between you, the burgeoning closeness was something you’d never seen coming.

Which, just like the tattooed elephant on Tyler’s arm, was present in the room. You never dreamt you’d be so close to a guy, one that was that much younger than you.

Maybe if I only felt the bonds of friendship, the age gap wouldn’t bug me. As it is, ‘sisterly’ love wasn’t what was pulling at my heart.

                                                     •••••••• 

So it brings you back here. Tight as Ty and you were becoming, you’d be a liar if you didn’t acknowledge that you’d still placed some kind of emotional buffer between you two.

Case in point, whenever you were sitting together backstage, laughing at a random story he’d been telling, you’d nudge him with your shoulder or smack his thigh. You’d swear… You’d swear the air between you two changes. Becoming charged.

Tyler would nudge you back, his face close to yours, as if he’s about to whisper a secret or he’d grasp your hand, playing with the fingertips. 

So, being the emotional scaredy-cat that you were, you pulled away any time you felt your dynamic shifting, becoming deeper.

I’d try to cut the tension with humor, gentle teasing. Greeting him with nicknames like ‘Kiddo or ‘baby mate’. He took it in stride though, a wry quirk to his lips each time, ‘cause let’s face it, you both know what you were doing.

Sigh.

Can’t say messy wasn’t your middle name. 

                                                   •••••••• 

I was close to winding down on editing the scripts, with Tyler keeping me company. The discussion of the latest goings-on in the company, the gossip. It’s never a dull place here, that’s for sure.

I soon snap my fingers in triumph. “Yes! I. Am. Done.”

Closing the laptop, you turn to beam at Tyler.

“I am all yours.“

Ensnared, you watch as a slow smile spreads. The scruff on his jaw lending him the look of a wolfhound.

“You promise?”

Tyler’s tone is draping like silk, his voice a low timbre.

Dark eyes trained on yours.

Flushing, my breath catches, sounding thready and I look away.

My gaze bounces around, looking anywhere but at him. They land on my heels that I’d kicked off earlier in the evening. 

I grab them, saying, “Let me get these on and let’s go get something to eat.“

 Scooting to the edge of the sofa, I slip one foot into a pump. Crossing my legs, I move to slip on the other.

This made the bottom folds of my wrap dress slide open, revealing an expanse of thigh.

You didn’t have to look, to know Tyler’s eyes were on you, you could feel his heated gaze.

Quickly gathering the sides of my dress into one hand, I hurry to shimmy on my shoe.

I was shifting, moving to set my heel back on the carpet when I hear Ty move too. You see him ease forward, his face a study.

I feel his hand on my ankle, his fingers feather over the gold anklet I was wearing.

“Beautiful.”

I was practically holding my breath at his touch. Me looking at him, a deer in headlights.

“Thank you,” I answer. My heart racing.

You watch Tyler slip his fingers under the delicate piece of jewelry, tracing the design.

Goosebumps raise.

I manage to utter. “I made it. Jewelry-making’s a secret passion.”

At the word “passion”, Tyler raises his head to look directly at you.

Fuck.

I’m desperate to look away but I can’t, so I say anything to break the trance.

“We’ll be eating late if we don’t get a move on, kiddo.”

At your words, Tyler’s face clouds over and he abruptly sits back, his palms tense on his thighs. “Don’t-“ 

He sighs. Sounding almost defeated.

“Don’t do that, love.” 

“Don’t do what? I don’t know what you’re talking about. “

I’ve suddenly made myself the busiest paper-stacker in Creation, refusing to look at him.

Tyler bends toward me, hands gripping his knees. Fingers tightening reflexively. As if he were holding himself back… holding himself back from taking you in his arms.

“Please don’t run from this, not anymore.”

I hop up from the couch, laptop in hand, papers on top, walking by his chair. His eyes following.

And because The Fates find messing with you hilarious… you immediately snag a heel in the carpet.

‘Cause why not?

You pitch forward. Your knees threatening to buckle.

Next thing you know, you feel Tyler’s arms wrapped around you. His voice an urgent whisper.

“You alright, sweetheart?!”

I could only nod. Partly from the shock of almost falling but mostly from the feel of Ty’s hard chest, pressing to my back.

Too, the feel of his breath in my ear, drifting over my cheek and the feel of his hand, right under my rib, his thumb stroking back and forth. 

No doubt it was meant to be comforting but all it was doing, was sending my senses thrumming.

I still hadn’t spoken, so Tyler asked again if I was okay. My head turns to his voice, my body instinctively seeking more of his warm breath on my skin.

His mouth hovers close to the corner of mine. I feel the faintest tickle of his beard on my face.

I can’t answer at this point. My whole being focused on his lips. The temptation to close the narrow gap between us, overwhelming.

Tyler, bless him, sees this and uses one hand to take the laptop from me, and sit it on the desk.

His other hand, stays on my waist, kneading it.

With my arms free, I turn to look at him.

Seeing Tyler look at me, so concerned and caring, I ask myself, ‘What are you running from again?

A weight lifts from me, I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Hi,” I breathe softly.

“Hi,” he returns. His trademark, wide and carefree smile breaking through. My gut’s telling me it’s important I make the first real move. To show I want this as much as he does.

I tighten my hold on him, drawing Ty even closer, him responding in kind.

Tasting his lips has suddenly become the most vital thing, so I brush soft kisses, testing the waters.

Upping the ante, the tip of my tongue laps at the seam of his mouth, his darts out to meet mine each time. With the pace of my movement though, we never quite connect.

Tyler growls. “Don’t tease.”

A tinkle of laughter leaves me.

I hadn’t meant to… but hey…

Tyler threads a hand in my hair, holding me steady. He looks at me, then his gaze drops to my lips. He slowly moves in, our mouths finally meeting.

Languorously, his tongue presses in, over and over.

I moan, gripping his sides, feeling shivers run through me.

Tyler breaks the kiss to wander down, biting and sucking at the crook of my neck, the air leaving me at the feel of him nestled there.

I tilt my head to give better access.

He journeys on to my décolletage, licking at the skin then nuzzling aside the material of my dress, to kiss the tops of my breasts.

I sigh at the sensation of his beard on me. My hand moves restlessly on his chest, nails scraping along the hard planes to the edge of his t-shirt. My sudden need to touch him grows.

Slipping my fingers under his shirt, I feel the silky skin pulled over taut muscles.

Traveling up, my palm splays over his pec, the nub there pebbled. I massage him slowly, then, without warning, pull at his nipple.

His ensuing groan has me clenching my thighs together.

Ty’s head snaps up to stare me down. He doesn’t break his gaze, as he tugs me flush against him, his arm snaking around my waist, slowly trailing down the dip in my back to squeeze my ass.

“You like that?” I nod, feeling feverish.

He plants a quick kiss. “I want you… so much…”

My hand raises to skim his cheek. “I want you too,” I murmur.

Ty steps away, slowly walking backward until he reaches the office door. He stands, hand on the lock.

Nodding, I let him know it was okay to close the door.

He throws the latch, then comes back to me.

Taking my hand, he draws me over to the couch. He settles back, an arm behind his head.

Our fingers still interlaced, I perch my knee on the edge of the sofa. He lets go, to drift his hand up my leg, smoothing it around to squeeze my inner thigh, thumb tracing ever upward.

Watching his hand, I bite the tip of my thumb, fingers curled against my mouth as I feel his touch ghost over the apex of my thighs.

His touch becomes firmer, as he sweeps along, then presses on my lace-covered clit.

Gasping, I rock on his hand.

My eyes jerk to his face, only to see him already looking at me, drinking in my reactions.

Tyler holds his hand back out to me, to pull me forward. Slipping off my shoes again, I climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. My dress pools around my thighs, Ty sifts under the material to caress my knee.

Feeling for the tie, I take one end of the bow between my fingers, drawing it out slowly. The dress loosens, partially revealing my bra and bare skin. Then running a languid finger under the seam of my bodice, head cocked, I peek up at him.

“I can’t be the only one getting naked.”

The speed at which Tyler rips his shirt off has me in peals of laughter.

I was still smiling, as he rears up, the muscles in his thighs shifting underneath me.

He cups my face with both hands, devouring my lips, hungry. Caught up, I wrap an arm around him, gripping his strong shoulders. My other, bracing on his forearm.

Drugged from his kisses, my head’s in a whirl, fogged from desire.

With a harsh breath, Ty releases my lips to rest his forehead against mine. He traces my face, then down my neck to ease the dress off my shoulders.

A short hum leaves him, as his eyes wander over me.

“Gorgeous.”

Flushing, I feel a shot of shyness but completely undeniable arousal too.

His palm continues on, to rest between my breasts.

“I can’t wait to taste you.” His husky words make me gasp, his look of determination has my nipples tightening.

Tyler reaches behind my back to open the clasps of my bra. Peeling it off, he tosses it aside. His calloused palms cup my breasts, urgently kneading the soft flesh. Ty then buries his face between the globes, kissing and licking.

Finally ending the teasing, he draws a nipple into his mouth, suckling it deeply. His tongue laps, I hold his head to me.

“Tyler… Please…” The entreaty in my voice? I don’t know what I’m asking for.

The buzzing pleasure has me rocking in his lap. The feel of his thickness between my legs, makes me ache.

His sharp gaze flicks to my moving hips, his features drawn tight.

His grunt turns me on more than anything. I roll my hips harder on his cock, the denim providing delicious friction.

“Shit!”

The curse dropping from his lips zings through me.

Hands on Tyler’s chest, I push him to lay back down. Sitting up, I run my hands over my skin. Slowly, I cup my breasts, weighing them, then tug on my nipples. He moans while watching me, hands reaching for me. His palms settle on my hips. 

“I need you.”

“I need you too.”

“A'right then, hang on,” Tyler warns.

The band of your panties tightening, paired with a ripping sound was the only heads up you got, to know that your underwear was being torn away.

You stare at him in disbelief.

Tyler grins up at you cheekily. “Oops?”

“Oops?!” You parrot back. “I got your ‘oops’.”

I lay over Ty, chest-to-chest, gliding a hand between us, I squeeze his dick through his jeans.

With your face beside his, you watch as your teasing has him becoming undone. His eyes screws shut, as you grind on him with the heel of my hand, him straining to get more of your touch.

Unbuttoning his jeans, I skim under his boxer briefs, feeling for his length. The thickness is an absolute reflection of the rest of his body. I stroke him, it’s like velvet over steel. My thumb swirls over the head, spreading the pre-come.

 “Babe…”

Tyler’s groan brings me back to him. Never one to let an opportunity slip, I bring my thumb to my tongue and lick it off.

Ty’s eyes darken. “Oh, that’s it! No more playin’!”

The next thing I know, I’m swept under Tyler, him planted firmly between my thighs. His cock poised at my entrance.

Still ever a sweetheart, he asks, “You ready, love?”

I nod. He hooks my leg, then slowly sinks into me. I let out a broken moan, head tunneling back into the armrest. His gaze traced over me then dusts kisses along my jaw.

His arm then wraps around me, like a band beneath my back. It has me arched up into him. No space between us, not even for air.

His hips begin rolling into me, measured strokes. I gasp on each passing, as the constant pressure on my clit’s incredible. Tyler buries his face in my neck as his pace picks up, hips snapping into mine.

A keening bubbles in my throat the faster he pumps. A hoarse wail soon escapes me as pleasure tears through me, lights bursting behind my eyelids.

A flood of curses is let loose by my ear, as Ty comes apart too. I hold on, as he shudders in my arms.

Soon, I shift his face to me. I’m breathless as I grip his jaw, planting a searing kiss.

“What the heck was that?” I wondered.

Tyler’s expression is fierce and somewhat defensive as he kisses me back twice as hard.

“Somethin’ we’ve both wanted for a while.”

I hug him to me. “Stand down, Wolfie. I meant your moves.”

He looks… relieved.

Ty then winks at me. “I’m a natural I guess.”

I grumble good-naturedly. “Yeah… Something tells me you’ve had practice.”

Tyler grins down at me, wide. “Don’t say you’re jealous?”

I sniff. My chin’s raised, defiant.

He chuckles. “Who needs to stand down now?”

Tyler gathers me up, kissing me.

“Never!” A grudging laugh’s pulled from me. "Shut up.”

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Dr Stone 13 - 15 | Honzuki 1 | Iruma-kun 1 - 2 | Africa Salaryman 1 | Tokunana 1 - 2 | Actors 1 | Abilities Average 1 | Shinchou Yuusha 2 | Assassin’s Pride 1 | No Guns Life 1 - 2 | Kabukicho Sherlock 1 | Ahiru no Sora 2 | BnHA 64 | Shin Chuuka Ichiban 1 | Stand My Heroes 1 - 2

Tags should be rolled out soon.

Dr Stone 13

Did Senku just Salt Bae??? Now I’ve seen everything!

I remember this puckered face from the manga! It’s hilarious!

Poor Kinro…he’s shocked at Ginro’s words…

Those were foxtails.

Who knew Suika’s mask could look so badass, amirite???

Honzuki 1

I like books…so this was a natural pick for me, y’know?

OKAY, why is the girl drinking wine she accepted from an older man??????

O…kay, so this has nice backgrounds and a pretty nice aesthetic with all the flowers, but otherwise it’s kinda dull, to be honest. It moves at the pace of a slice of life show…and I’m not sure it’s intentional or not.

“Only grownups are allowed to tie up their hair.” – So then, and correct me if I’m wrong about this…why is Turi’s hair in a braid? Or, when they mean “up”, they mean in a full bun like Myne (Main???) did earlier?

I’m thinking either a marketplace might have books…or at least signs to read.

I’m thinking of Maou-sama Retry from last season…because I’d rather a boring slow walk like the one I just saw, rather than a terrible run cycle like the one in the first episode of that show.

What…? Was Urano a vegan or vegetarian…? Or just too much of a city slicker to deal with seeing a dead chicken?

Iruma-kun 1

I picked this one based on the good ratings it had on ANN.

How does anyone remember these lyrics??? How many “ba” and “bi”s do you need???

…Hayate the Combat Butler, basically speaking.

Levy = Leviathan, I’d assume.

Aye, what a poor lad…to be sold off at 14…

Well, that was a fast way to set up an episode. If more shows were like this, I’d be a happy camper.

I-Is Opera…a DUDE?! Hallelujah! I hit Bishonen Jackpot #2! (No. 1 is Seiya, of course.)

You comedies wanna play hardball with me? Huh?! Do you, punks?! Let’s see how many times you can make me (wholeheartedly) laugh, then! (Current laugh count: 1)

Gender-coded uniforms, much…?

Is Catgirl related to Opera somehow???

Well, you do know that Asmodeus represents lust, right? That’s why he’s pink, isn’t he?...Isn’t he??? Update: Oh, yeah, right. Sullivan should probably be “Solomon”, but the name is deliberately different for comedy’s sake.

Uh, lemme guess: Daisuke Namikawa for Asmodeus? Update: Ryohei Kimura. I knw he sounded familiar…he’s Kane-san, in other words.

Kamehame-fireball!

(Iruma-kun is a master of dodging)…I thought it was because of that spell from before, really.

Da Vinci homage for the win!

Oh hey! 2nd German suplex of the season (I didn’t watch the first one).

By the power of dodging, Iruma wins…one servant! (Just in case Fate/ wasn’t enough for you…so to speak.)

There’s a single heart on Babylys in the ED, it seems…plus a giant bow.

Africa Salaryman 1

If Beastars is anime Zootopia, then this is absurdist Zootopia.

This is some Attenborough s***...until it isn't.

The OP scenes with the characters dancing...that's gonna be in my nightmares.

Oh, it's the pa in pachinko (“chinko” meaning p***s) that’s missing, so they went with glasses/asses instead.

We got Punpun animated (i.e. frightened Toucan)...score.

Giraffe Donuts, LOL.

I’m really pissed now…there’s no adblocker for my phone, so I had to sit through a good 8 ads or so just to get proper subs…I almost lashed out at someone because of it, too.

FireLion, LOL. I like these old computer-style transitions, but I don’t like how many ads I have to live through for it.

Tokunana 1

Is it just me, or did the police guy say "futures" (plural)...?

Hmm...by brandishing a gun at that point, is this man implying he's a saviour, or that guns are cool? I sure hope it's not the latter, considering gun violence rates worldwide. Then again, I might be reading into this one detail too much.

This reminds me of Midnight Occult Sevants…which doesn’t bode well for this show.

I can see this being my next Cop Craft…which I don’t need this season.

…oh, boy…rule no. 1 of detective shows: don’t be a hostage or get kidnapped. Ever. (Inevitably, if the show is about police in some capacity, someone will break this rule at least once. It’s made to be broken.)

Between this and Kimetsu no Yaiba, we’ve had enough “intelligence” (“using your head”, i.e. headbutting) to last us a while…

This CGI looks kinda bad…Africa Salaryman does better with disguising its CGI.

I like how the skull had a bow on it.

Wait, a dog, bird (pheasant) and gorilla (monkey)…this is some demented Momotaro going on right here…

Lookit that lady go!!! Woot!

To be honest, I keep feeling like Seiji’s gonna develop superpowers…or is this not the show for that…? (I mean, there’s dragons in the synopsis! Dragons!)

This show looks kinda off model, which is a bad sign in the first episode…hearing gunshots after the ED kinda startled me, though, and made a killer move for another episode out of goodwill…come to think of it, I’ve been giving out a lot of “can’t peg down this show with one episode, will watch more” this season already…

Dr Stone 14

(no notes, sorry!)

Actors 1

I’m a fan of Masuda, who voices a character in Actors’s 3rd iteration…IIRC. It’s gonna be a while until we get to him, though.

Uh, how does this guy play keyboard with those floppy sleeves of his???

Specifically, according to Hinata, Haruna told him he was being too noisy before she went back to sleep…although I’ve never seen a little girl be woken up by her big brother in these “I’m late! *puts toast in mouth as they run ou the door*” intros, so it’s refreshing.

His name is Otonomiya (“sound temple”, with “sound” being the thing you hear), of course he’s going to be part of a musical franchise…

“Akizuki Kai” sounds familiar…I dunno why though.

UGGGGGGH! If you’re doing a singing anime, let us hear the damn song!!! Don’t make us wait for the Otonomiya version!!!

Kagura…Sousuke??? Classicaloid??? I am so not going to match that boy with this one. (Well, one of the kanji is different, but everything else is the name, right down to the wordplay. A kagura is a type of dance, y’see, and one of the characters matches one in the Japanese word for “music”, ongaku. The other can be found in Otonomiya’s name, in fact.)

What’s up with this white wall business, anyway??? This ain’t Tokyo Ghoul, this is a singing anime!

Archery boy is good boi. Me likey.

I have a bad feeling about Nozomi, yo.

I LOLled so hard…I mean, this pink dude’s name is Uta Outa…it’s so redundant. You expect me to love him???? LOL, as if!

Con brio = with spirit, with vigour. Adagio = slow, by the way.

Stand My Heroes 1

I’m here for Ume, as I always am. Ume’s role is Go Miyase of the Kujo family.

That was a pretty epic opening, actually.

Who scouts a civilian for a narcotics unit???

I am so not going to be able to match names to faces at this rate…

Hey, don’t you go patronising girls!!!

I feel like it would’ve been better (and flashier) to demonstrate the drug immunity by showing, not talking about it.

Takaomi looks like Tenn from Idolish7, man…

Hmm…I saw Ume’s character, but it’s hard to evaluate his voice for Go just by a “Here you go.” (And no, that’s not a pun…not an intentional one, anyway.)

I just realised Aoyama has this tiny plait on the side of his head. It’s rather cutesy for a narcotics show.

(Aoyama informs Rei about Arakida)…yeah, but why are you here, Aoyama? Are you just here to warn Rei???

The stain really is gone, you really can’t tell that it is there…I assume that means she was drinking water in that tall glass of hers (Rei).

This ending song is a bit weird…I never expected it to be English. I expected it to be by the VAs, to be honest.

Abilities Average 1

It’s better if I call this “Abilities Average” rather than the long-winded “Didn’t I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?!”.

The scenery in this show is nice, at least…(?) But is that a CGI carriage I see?

Comic Earth Star…that doesn’t bode particularly well for me. The only series I’ve watched that has a series that hails from that magazine is SekaTsuyo (Wanna Be the Strongest in the World!) and I didn’t like it much in the end.

Ohhhhhhhhh…kay. Is it just me, or did I read “Hotel Little Gust” as “Hotel Little Girl”…?

Mile and Myne (spelling pending). In female-led isekai. This season only!!!...this is gonna suck, isn’t it?

Lenny is a boy’s name, though…?

Why is the show’s English tagline “God bless me?”…? I’ve half a mind to drop this show already…and I read the premiere report on ANN, so I knew it was going to end like this. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve had a season where I just catch up on older series, even though I keep thinking I will have one on my hands during weak seasons. (This has been a worry since the especially weak summer 2018 season, really.)

The Spain Square…? Really?

Really? You’re gonna complain about Japan’s declining birth rate here???

Whoa, I wouldn’t be surprised if this show were taken for granted by yuri shippers…

The extreme buffering means I managed to spot a redhead who I’ve seen on this show’s promo material…yup, that’s her.

Oh…great. This redhead is tsundere…(If I give one more complaint, I’m getting out of here!)

Oh…so Mile even pointed it out…(probably because this buffering is going so slowly, I can guess what’s happening before it actually happens.)

Okay, so I never figured out why she started calling herself a country girl and I went back and looked (despite all the buffering I was fighting) and no one ever does call her a country girl, it’s just a random misconception she has. Because it was so unclear that this was the case, I’m going to drop this show. (Well, for all the middling shows I have this season, losing one is actually a relief…!)

Shinchou Yuusha 2

Here we are again…and I’ve been thinking about Seiya a lot since last time, which probably seals the deal in that this is going to be part of the final lineup. (Today’s Seiya probably helps a lot with that.)

Ohmigosh, Rista’s panicked face when they almost get caught by Chaos Machina…LOL.

…just as I thought, I go “nnnnergh” under my breath when someone mentions the name “Aria”.

Assassin’s Pride 1

I picked this show because the protag looked kinda hot…but only now I realise he looks like a knock-off Kirito and I really start to regret my choice…

Is it just me, or is this show really dark??? (Not just because of the bloody scene at the start, mind you.)

The side of the train says “Cardinals 26110”, in case you were wondering…(then again, you probably weren’t wondering that…)

Wait-his name is Kufa WHAT?!

This is giving me Lance N Masques vibes now, because it did almost the same plot beats except for the fact I still can’t reconcile the fact Kufa Whatsit lives in a lantern (which is actually a pretty interesting idea…if it didn’t seem rather unviable upon retrospect)…that means it’s halfway to drop city.

Melida is so flat, she doesn’t even fill out her dress…(LOL, that gives a new meaning to “flat as a board”.)

But why is the tutor a dude? Plus an older dude to a younger girl, at that???

Hey, Melida is essentially my kinda catnip…at least in my head...because she’s someone without powers in a family with powers (basically, she’s like Daichi from Crimson/Future is Crimson in that regard). Then again, Charlotte tried playing the same hand by having superpowers and absolutely sunk itself ‘cos I couldn’t stand Yu.

Elise runs reallllllly derpily.

Those CGI alleyways look baaaaaaaaad, man. Like, “looking at grainy footage through a UV camera” bad.

Okay, Kufa. You are not Naruto. You will not see them aliens. Give up already.

The actual frig is an anima???

I like this black/bright blue/purple combo…it’s nice.

Umm…but what is the way to awaken the mana???

I’m currently going, “So why should I give a s*** about Melida???? Ripoff Kirito just chooses to swear his life upon her and awakening her mana because she’s been beaten down a grand total of once…You should’ve killed her already, Kufa. Isn’t that what being an assassin is about???”…and then I realise there’s more to the episode…

Waiiiiiiiiiiiit…one of the maids’ names is Nietzsche??? Like the Ubermensch guy??? That’s weiiiiiiiird, man…

Kufa is a chuuni, calling it now.

The text under the series logo doesn’t quite make sense…

Hmm, this one’s a tough call, but I think I’ll give it a 45 and a hard drop. I don’t think I’ve ever asked myself “So why should I give a s*** about the main character?” before…I think the closset to that would be when I’ve asked myself why I wanted to be subjected to this (for anime that get dropped).  

No Guns Life 1

Now that I look at the title again…why is it called No Guns Life when Juzo’s life will always have a gun in it for as long as he’s like that (i.e. he has a gun for his head)…?

*Juzo smokes* - Oh, now that’s a striking opening scene if I ever knew one!

Ohmigoshit’sKnuckledusterfromBnHAVigilanteswithagunforhisheadand…I…*huff huff* can’t breathe anymore…LOL.

Seriously, I thought I thought up some weird s*** for my old stories, like the girl whose face was missing and Akoya turning into a manequin to preserve his beauty.

“The only ones who can touch my trigger are those who I’ve chosen to accept.” – Is that…a sexual metaphor??? Or an intimacy one in general???

Wowwwwwwwww, chibi gunhead (which was hinted in the OP) was not something I expected from such a hardboiled show.

“…shot right in the head.” – LOL, says you when the guy with the gun head is behind you.

I thought there was seriously a pun there by having the gun head’s name be “Juzo”, but it turns out his name has the kanji for 13. Maybe that hints at how unlucky he is instead. (Same with Inui and it containing the character for “dog” – turns out it’s a different kanji.)

I think this is reminding me of Mahoutsukai no Yome – strong in its core genre at first, but then shows some weakness when it comes to comedy.

I worry about how this show will look during the midseason slump period…it both has traces of CGI and the still camera pretending it’s “properly animating” a scene.

That ED really is something…and hey, I got an explanation for why the show has traces of CGI in it from the credits! Unreal Engine was credited there and that’s normally used for games.

Kabukicho Sherlock 1

Dammmmmmmmn, that’s one sweet soundtrack!

Man, I know I said for Stars Align that there’s no slap to the face like a slap to the face, but…this was a slap to the face in that I did not expect Mrs Hudson to do an entire Coraline-style musical routine in the first half of the episode. I could tell from her (?) appearance that she was a drag queen/trans caricature, but they didn’t need to make her a singer in a bar…and the “sexy” shots of Mrs Hudson’s butt are kinda disturbing…and especially the part where Watson (I think it is?) gets a butt grab for his trouble…

The woman in the blue dress is Diana Oldoini (spelling needs confirmation). The woman with the blue hair…seems to be called Tenkill…(yeah, under the subs, I can’t really make it out.) All the women at Pipe Cat seem to be trans stereotypes, which vaguely annoys and unsettles me.

Kyogoku = Natsuhiko Kyogoku and Sherlock is Holmes, but I dunno about “Michel” or “Kobayashi”.

The Watson from the Holmes books was a doctor in the Afghanistan war…I know that much.

Natsu -> Fuyu (summer -> winter), hiko (“brilliance/brightness”, a common component to Japanese boys’ names) -> to (“person”, also a common component of Japanese boy’s names).

Oh, Michel is this guy (Belmont)! No wonder. Update: So the cats are like placecards, announcing that you’re in the building.

White Rose! I saw it when Watson showed up in his car, so I figured it was going to be important…I just didn’t think it was necessary so soon…

Chili oil…no wonder the woman was disgusted by Sherlock’s burp. Not to mention, Holmes was good at identifying chemicals too. This show is shaping up to be a modern Holmes more than Detective Conan is!

Wowwwwwwww…this show really doesn’t like gay people either (understatement).  It’s like I’m watching a show from the 90s in regards to the LGBTIQ+ people in this…

Moriarty is a thief for thieves, huh? A regular (modern) Robin Hood, so to speak. I wonder if the poor kids are the Baker Street Irregulars…?

This soundtrack is sooooo good! Plus it’s clearly leading up to a rakugo scene, based on the fact “Shibahama” briefly appeared on the screen during that really cool rainbow/text scene!

“What sort of girl takes her clothes off for a man she’s never met?” – A sex worker.

I-Is Moriarty drinking Dr Pepper…? Or Coke?

This is really shaping up to be a modern Sherlock Holmes – with his rakugo, this Sherlock is leading his Watson to the answer!

Ohhhhhhhhh man, these CGI cars look terrible!

H-HUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?! W-What? Sherlock gets hit by a car in the first episode (I think they wanted it to happen for humour)? This really is a show where it’s neither mystery nor comedy…it’s just kinda weird and kinda there.  

So that’s Mary Morstan and…who? (If you never figured it out, I learnt these characters’ names through ANN cast announcements.)

I…don’t get why Sherlock is screaming because I don’t know what Watson’s bottle-thingy is for, but I’ll assume it has to do with pain for Sherlock’s genitals or something of the sort…and go “ouch” for him.

Okay, so the next-ep preview’s “Why not join the staring at eye moles squad?” is a joke. You see, the word nakibokuro refers to a mole (or beauty spot) under the eye (where hokuro = mole and naki = cry, so it’s as if the person cried the mole into existence). Then it’s mitsumetai, meaning “want to stare”, but then the tai for “want” is substituted for the tai meaning “squad”. So that nonsense English line is just a very literal translation that isn’t funny…just confusing. I don’t get the “Cobra?/ Farewell” exchange though…

This very last scene before the end of the episode seems to be a page of info about the setting of Shinjuku in this series. East and west were split by a wall and train tracks, it seems, and you ned to pass through the gate to go between them…I spotted this omake because of the cat in one corner.

I don’t quite get why the case had to be treated like a gameshow at one part, but that would be a cool plot if someone ever wrote a story about it…(actually, wait. I think I do know a similar plotline from Detective Conan – the one with Natsuki in it – plus the Running Man by Steven King is somewhat similar to it too.)

Ahiru no Sora 2

Essentially, Sora is a reverse Kuroko…amirite…?

Ugh! This slang is so outdated!!! “[T]otes craycray”…the translator’s trying too hard to be a hip teenager…

How does anyone keep food in their afro anyway…?

I…miss shonen protags like Ahiru. The type that are earnest, but not shouty.

I was thinking I might drop the show here, but then I looked at the posts and strangely they didn’t talk about Chiaki (who I expected to be the deuteragonist of this show). Instead, they talk about Momoharu, so I was wondering what kind of twist they were pulling.

Beet red, my butt…

…then again, more Chiaki shenanigans showed up, so I really am gonna drop this. Geesh, Chiaki, you really suck.

BnHA 64

Eyyyyyyyyy, my local sublicensor is back to simulcasting BnHA! That didn’t happen for the stuff affected by the CR x Funi partnership, so I’m happy it’s happening right now.

I heard this was a recap ep but it was handled well…oh well, the new OP is well worth the price of admission.

I like how Amajiki (my boyyyyyyyy!) is like “Don’t touch me!!!”, even in the OP.

Hmm…I see one of the male journalists being scolded uses Windows 10.

Tokuda’s name is literally a pun on “It’s a special (episode)”…good job, Bones and BnHA staff (sarcastic). Update: Maybe the “tane” (seed) means he’s seedy…?Nah, that pun doesn’t work in Japanese.

Good job on recapping Vault Boy (as he’s known). I found his POWERRRRRR! thing amusing when s3 was airing, remember?

I get the feeling (based on the chapters Viz made free for the sake of hyping s4 up) Nighteye is a parody of the Jump series Seiji Tanaka. Update: No, now that I google Seiji Tanaka up and remember Horikoshi was going for a stereotypical Japanese salaryman look, it’s just a giant coincidence…

Tokuda has that “nice older man” vibe going on…hmm…

Whoaaaaaaaaaaa, that quirk is creepyyyyyy…

“…false encouragement to those…”

Selfie for the photobomb photographer!...(or something like that…)

Oh nooooooooo, I know exactly what’s in store for these guys, now that Viz made chs. 122 – 162 available for free for a limited time!!! That ED though…it’s basically torture for someone who knows what’s going on!!!

Shin Chuuka Ichiban 1

This is a sequel to a series I watched ages ago in Cantonese, so…heck if I’ll understand what’s going on, but I’ll try. Even though my memory of these characters should be better than everyone else’s, it might even be worse, considering all the anime I watched in the years between…

All these faces are familiar…but I’ve forgotten most of their names…If I remember right, the blonde is Sanche, the only one I really remember because he gave his all to cutting radish by moonlight so that it was proven it was so thin you could see the moonlight through it…yeah, I think that’s the only character aside from Mao I can really say anything about. (I don’t think he was blonde last time I saw an anime about him, though.)

These chickens are adorable...in this day and age, we know these chickens aren't carriers of misfortune...but just roll with it for now.

The subs don't note it (the visuals do eventually though), but her (Tiya’s) bro is a big one.

I never realised how long Mao's hair was until this series...

Even these men look like chickens...LOL.

The essence of SCI is, like any other shonen, Mao gets underestimated and kicks their asses.

The men even sound like chickens, LOL.

See? Silkies. I've never taken care of one myself, but they are adorable lil' birds with a distinctive look. Anyways, I think what sets this apart from SnS is the earnestness from years gone by (rather than extreme exaggerating). Also, this ep. made me hungry...LOL, that's the sign of a good cooking show.

Yeah...I forgot the reason why Mao wears that blue thing over his arm is because he can dramatically reveal himself as Super Chef. That happened a lot in s1.

...who's Fei again...?

Tokunana 2

I think this is going to be the decider as to where I push the threshold of my rankings, since this how is very middling…also, it’s pretty obvious to note the ep. titles go 1, 2, 3…(and so on).

I’ve watched my fair share of mysteries (Detective Conan gives you a lot of ‘em), so I can tell the covering of the mouth is a tell…the dwarvish man is lying.

The news headline says “Rainbow Bridge Reconstruction”…(It has a particle on the end though…I dunno whether I wanna translate that or not.)

Based on the “dragons” idea, I wouldn’t be surprised if the main antagonist’s surname was Kuzuryuu (“9 headed dragon”).  

Codenames? They even did that in Double Decker and in some senses, that was a parody of the entire cop procedural! (What with “Perm” as a codename and all that…speaking of which, I think Travis was the type who liked “fun” codenames too…he called himself “Boss” as well…and called his rookie “Rookie”.)

The saying goes a painted dragon should have the eyes painted last or else it’ll come alive and fly away. It must be something of the sort for daruma too. By the way, I could guess the politician was trying to be re-elected before Ichinose said due to the hissho (“sure win”) written on the daruma.

I don’t think I’ve seen anyone in anime sit backwards on a chair like that (Ichinose’s pose)…

How does Suga know about the blog…?

I keep swearing Seiji is gonna awaken some type of powers, but…I dunno why…?

“Here it is! My fist of justice!” *whomp*…that’s how I imagined the final punch to be for Seiji.

I swear…I’ve been seeing this Angolmois-style filter over Tokunana…(grr…)

Stand My Heroes 2

Wait, there’s Hattori…and Hatori…? Update: Oh…kay, so there’s Otani Hatori (of Revel) and then Hattori You (of the police). They have the same colour hair…and the same hairstyle…there goes my dreams of even comprehending this show…

Wait, so the English-language song is the OP????

Why does a guy called Maki always have green hair…?

Seriously though…Yui is a cliched scientist. By that, I mean he doesn’t really act like one at all – he obsesses over potential samples and whatnot (emphasis on “potential”).

Where the heck did you acquire a drug like that, then, Kagura???

Only Rei, who knows what happened at the dinner, can say “you’re nice based on what you did at dinner”. The viewer wasn’t privy to such things…

Aki’s tsundere…!

That fight scene was barely animated…geesh.

Maki’s got such anger issues that it’s hard to get behind him…

By the by, I don’t find Jekyll and Hyde cases hot, so Maki is basically a no-go.

Iruma-kun 2

This could be the show that decides it all. Iruma-kun is the 2nd-last show on my prospective shows for the season, so I’m cutting the fat fast by watching a few shows that indicate the quality of everything underneath as well as itself.

LOL, I never noticed there was an “Oh my gah” in the OP, haha.

Okay, so the pun in the title is Mairimashita! Iruma-kun (“I’ve Arrived! Iruma-kun”in formal Japanese because he’s the demon king’s grandson), but it’s “demon entry” rather than the standard kanji…so there’s absolutely no way to make that joke work in English, hence “Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-kun”. The pun in Iruma is that it’s an anagram of the formal iku/kuru (come/go), mairu. Yes, that’s the mairu I was talking about earlier.

I love how the narrator is just like “akuma deeeeeee~su” with all the enthusiasm of a postman; that is, he’s not very good at covering up his sarcasm.

Oh, so it’s maccha, but macha (demon tea)…geddit?

…oh! I actually noticed Sullivan’s hands were bandaged, but I didn’t think anything of it! So it was plot-relevant…

Hellraiser clock…for mezamashidokei (where ma = demon again)…that is a good pun! I love you, subber!

I assume the series of 5 symbols I keep seeing is actually “Iruma”, meaning the demon language is based on English, or at the very least individual romaji.

Oh wait! Babibabi(etc.)ru…does that mean the OP is referring to the school??? *mindblown*

…don’t tell me it’s Sullivan…? Update: Nope, I forgot about “Severus Snape”. He’s Aizawa from BnHA, but a demon.

Asmodeus stands out far too much in a crowd, LOL.

Whether useful or useless, trash is trash.

That’s…a very death metal snake…to put it one way.

This reminds me of Future is Crimson…how nostalgic…I really expect a cute monster though.

*laughing behind hand* Oh noooooooo…does that mean Iruma summoned the teacher??? (Hahahah!!!! Hahahaha!!!)

So…I was right, but I wasn’t right??? The teacher is a cute demon, I guess. Very fluffy. His Snape form isn’t bad either, but I’d prefer someone younger than him, to be honest. (Gimme plushies of the small fluffy sensei!)

Okay, so sukima appears to be a word meaning “gap, crevice (etc.)”. There’s the character for demon in it, so it’s kinda like calling this section the demonic gap-closer…the malevolent mini-episode…the fiendish filler! Yeah, I like the sound of “fiendish filler” (even though I don’t even like filler!).

Dr Stone 15

…now Senku’s done it. (i.e. married Ruri)

I like how Suika went splat while running. It adds more consistency to her nearsightedness.

Now there’s a cliffhanger!

No Guns Life 2

I always love it when people say they’re unarmed…but truth be told, people (normally) have two arms…not to mention, Juzo has a gun for a head and a fist that can rapidly punch. You can’t really call that “unarmed”.

I just realised Juzo’s jaw doesn’t really move when he talks…

Wait a second, ARAHABAKI????? You mean, Chuuya Arahabaki???? (Talking about that to those not in the know would be spoilers, so I won’t explain what I mean here, just in case there are non-BSD fans reading this.)

So…uh, where are Juzo’s eyes in that head of his…?

Ooh, authentication keys. Sounds like cybersecurity. That…was my jam before I jumped ship – apparently I’m too dumb to deal with modulos (which are important to cybersecurity).

Hmm…gun slave unit? Whatever does that mean, hmm??? (somewhat inquisitive, somewhat sarcastic)

Can a guy with a gun for his head get lung cancer? These are the big questions, folks.

Hmm? His hobby is house-cleaning, but he doesn’t have any kids…? That sounds sort of weird (although my ideas of a house cleaner are probably a bit…motherly, I guess? “Conforming to traditional stereotypes”…how about that description instead…?).

I never realised how short the muzzle of Juzo’s head is until I got this side shot.

“Guess that means I won’t be able to hold back against you!” – Whoa! That’s some effective horror…and this isn’t even a show that has “horror” as one of its genres…