#is this a crack ship still? i think i might unironically ship it now

[valdomarx]

Follow my lead

Istredd's eyes comb over the ballroom. Among the great and powerful mages of the continent, there is one figure who draws his attention more than the others.

Even in the ridiculous doublet which he clearly despises, Geralt cuts a striking figure. In the midst of the wealthy and powerful who are coiffed and primped and decked out in the finest fabrics and enchantments, his simplicity somehow catches the eye.

There’s a stillness to him, Istredd thinks. A surety and solidity that pulls people in, like the forces which set the stars above in their rotations. 

The sharp staccato of the Melange dance begins, and Istredd takes his place opposite Geralt and Yennefer, acknowledging them with a nod. The opening bars of the dance are simple: a step, and then another, a turn, and a step. Geralt raises one arm, and Istredd mirrors the movement. They step toward and past each other, the back of their hands barely brushing, the brief contact leaving a thrill like an enchantment crawling up his arm. 

Geralt turns. Istredd turns. They pace apart and the music crescendos, syncopated beats building. They swing to face each other once more, and Istredd is drawn toward him, eyes glued to Geralt’s gleam of silver and black, stepping first to one side, and then to the other.

They come closer, and closer, face to face now, and then the music stops. They pause for a moment’s silence, like a gulp of air, and the tiniest hint of a smile plays at Geralt’s mouth. Istredd looks down at his lips, and then back up, and there’s a heaviness in the air like rain about to break.

And then the music comes crashing back, and Istredd is swept away back into the throng of dancers, his heart hammering in his chest for no good reason. The musicians beat out the final bars of the Melange and Istredd ends up back where he started, staring across the crowd at Geralt. 

Then there are speeches and the usual pandering, but Istredd’s mind is elsewhere. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a presence behind him and a gravelly voice says, “Do something for me, Istredd.”

Geralt’s voice is rich and deep in his ear, and he wants to say, “Anything.” Instead, he turns to face him and gives a sharp, professional nod.

That hint of a smile is back as Geralt says, “Follow my lead.”

And then Geralt’s hand is cupping his jaw, and his other hand loops around Istredd’s waist to pull him in, and Geralt kisses him like there’s not a single other person in the room. 

Istredd melts into him, and it’s really not a hardship to follow, with the way Geralt’s tongue is grazing at his lips and he’s nipping playfully at his mouth. Istredd puts his arms around Geralt’s hips, bringing their bodies into line, and he’s aware of the shocked murmurs of the crowd around them.

Let them fucking murmur. He feels Geralt smile against his mouth, and then Istredd finds himself dropped into a low dip, almost parallel with the floor. Geralt’s arms are strong and firm around him, and he doesn’t fight it. He lets himself be swooped into a scandalous horizontal line, Geralt’s mouth hot on his own, and the gasps from the crowd intensify. 

Follow his lead, Geralt had said, so Istredd throws one leg around the back of Geralt’s thigh to really sell it, grinding their bodies together from face to foot. Geralt moans into his mouth, and the sound of Tissaia hissing about appropriate behavior for the occasion carries through the buzzing gossip of the crowd.

Geralt pulls back by just a fraction so that their eyes meet. The amber irises are sparkling with amusement as he says, “Do you think we have their attention?”

-

Yen stretches out on the silk sheets, decadent and sated. She runs a hand through the silver tangle of Geralt’s hair where it spreads over the pillows.

“You know, when I asked for a distraction earlier, you kissing Istredd wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Geralt smiles one of the rare, slow, genuine smiles. She really likes those ones. “It worked out pretty well in the end, didn’t it?”

Yen looks down to where Istredd is fast asleep between the two of them. She lays a fond hand on his shoulder and lets out a laugh. “I guess it did.” 

[proxissima]

ENJI FOR THE ASK THING

-How I feel about this character:

MY FAVOURITE. I love him, along with All Might, but I also want to strangle him regularly <3

-All the people I ship romantically with this character:

-All Might: Enji's extreme(ly funny) obsession with All Might is what arguably made me ship it. Most of his decisions in adult life have been centred one way or another around All Might, and I can't get over that fact. While there's next to no setting that I wouldn't ship them in, my other favourite is a villain!AM AU. I have many feelings about this ship in general but you and everyone else who made the regrettable decision of following already knows that 💀

-Inko: My guilty pleasure ship, for comedy and drama. There's something enticing about a guy like Endeavor, who's otherwise got such a fat stick up his ass, having an extramarital affair with the MC's civilian mother, who's also married to someone else. The scandalousness of it is *chef's kiss*. It's also intertwined with the crack headcanon about Izuku being Endeavor's love child that I really like, as well.

-Rei: more interesting to me in fanon than in canon, simply because she's barely developed as a character in canon :/ Idk whoever came up with the idea of Rei being secretly obsessed with Enji, but what a concept

-Mirko: two very hot-blooded characters, and Mirko wouldn't have any of Enji's shit 👌

-Aizawa: Shoto would DIE. He's also unlikely to have any of Endeavor's shit.

I generally ship Enji with many and more characters than are listed here, though less romantically and more for reasons like "I like the idea of it in a certain scenario" (like Burnin) or "I simply respect the chemistry"... or for dark fics.

-In an OT3 with Toshi and Rei. Started off as a crack-ship, but I'm now actually, genuinely, honest to god, unironically shipping it. 💀 Hear me out... If this polycule had happened, AFO would simply not have stood a chance. Just the combined power of All Might and Endeavor, united, and with Rei as the mediator... They'd be unstoppable.

-My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Hawks. Enji has a rather... difficult personality, which makes me think he wouldn't have many friends in the first place. Hawks is not just willing to put up with him because he's his biggest fan but he also knows how to either calm his temper, and, just as easily, how to push his buttons. The friendship between them is rather underrated, imo.

All Might. In canon-divergence/AU settings, I can see them having an interesting dynamic when not genuinely hostile. Read: Enji being a tsundere grump and constantly protesting AM's sunshine personality while generally agreeing on work ethics and still hanging out with him.

Untenmaru, Endeavor's chauffeur. He looks like he takes none of his shit either and there's mutual respect between them.

(Basically any character that knows how to hold their own against Enji's gruff personality make for a great dynamic with him.)

-My unpopular opinion about this character:

His atonement arc feels kinda disingenuous. What I'm referring to specifically is that the cause that made him truly start thinking about what he's done to his family for the first time in his miserable life was most definitely only extrinsic and not due to any sudden gained wisdom on his part... Enji's an idiot. Would he have given his treatment of his family a second thought 1) had he somehow managed to surpass All Might on his own terms, or 2) had All Might not been forced to retire suddenly? I can't say I'm convinced that he would have, and that's what's bothering me about his big heel-face turn.

I actually like his pre-All Might's retirement persona at least as much as him post-S3. He was such an asshole but extremely amusing to watch, especially his interactions with AM. He's generally fun to put through a meat-grinder though lmao

-One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

Won't happen and also OOC, but he should stop keeping looking at Dabi like there's someone in there that he can still save, and start treating him like the danger that he is and put him out of commission... Permanently.

I'm convinced that if All Might and Endeavor had just had a better relationship with each other overall, much of what happened in the series could've been avoided entirely. But alas... both of them are kinda to blame for that, and things can never be that easy... right?

Give me a character; and I'll break their ass down

[sofoulandfairaday]

For choose violence: 6, 23 & 24

[i've gotten so many of these -- thank you so much guys, this actually means the world to me that someone cares about my thoughts!]

from: choose violence ask game

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

It really depends. Nowadays, probably wolfstar. Some of them are pretty fucking annoying. But it's far from what it used to be. I was here during the gold old ship war days, and I remember dramione and harmione (?) stans being the most annoying people on the face of the earth. 2012 dramione fandom anyone? the ron bashing?? 2016 jily stans with the anti-snape posts??? *shudders*

Not to say the Marauders fandom isn't toxic now but my policy is to: block block block whenever I see people who say atrocious things with 100% conviction.

Also, I just can't stand, as a general rule, people supporting wildly fanon ships over canon ones, and trying to unironically argue why they work better... There is literally nothing wrong with liking a crack!ship, I could argue that's the point of fanfiction, but don't insult my intelligence. Sometimes I see takes where the only possible solution would be for the author to read the source material again.

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

Unwillingly is a strong word... I have read some good Tomarry fics in the last year (but. like. literally three (3). don't get excited) which is something that I would have rather gauged my own eyes out than do in the past. But then again only under very specific conditions for themes/setting/length/etc. It's not something I would ever look for, it's something I read if I know the author from other works and think “let's give it a try”... so, probably, I'm actually more in love with those authors' writing ability than the actual ship. You can tell if you actually like a ship in the following way: mediocre stories still make you swoon. You can tell if you like an author in the following way: I would rather get slapped in the face than read this ship but you make it interesting/enjoyable.

Jily is another, not because I disliked it in the way I dislike Tomarry but just 'cause it bores me a little. After exhausting any and all Snape character studies where he mopes about Lily (happy-ending Snily is not something I've ever liked) I thought meh, why not.

Oh! And you might be absolutely shocked to hear this but Belladolphus was one of these too. I was (and always will be) a Bellamort shipper, for my first few years in the fandom I was indifferent to Rodolphus at best. The man doesn't have a (1) single line in the books and we don't even really know what he looks like, but he's my angel and my baby and my darling and I accept no Rodolphus Lestrange slander in this house. Now, they're one of my favourites.

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

In canon or out of canon? Because I feel that's different.

In canon probably Snape. The world isn't split into sexual assault apologists and Death Eater apologists, we all have some functioning brain cells and critical thinking skills, it's important we choose to stay in the fucking middle.

Out of canon... come on, you don't need me to tell you what it is. Personally, I think that pointing out the flaws in a book series is important and useful to the general public (and so many criticisms of the series are incredibly valid), but clutching your pearls because the kids decorate for Christmas in Grimmauld Place and *gasp* “I cannot believe JKR wrote her characters putting christmas decorations on the disembodied heads of slaves and thought "yes. this is good. very cute and charming."” (yes, this is a real comment someone made on the internet, i didn't write this. yes, it has hundreds of likes.)

Guys. It's not that deep. It's played as grotesque in the same way the Addams Family is. The Blacks are spooky ha-ha that's the joke. It's played for dark giggles, literally not that fucking deep. Although maybe I'm wrong and insensitive for this, but come on. Feel free to correct me.

Also, something that most people don't get about the Blacks: they weren't unkind to their house elves, or at least not in the way we think. Again, the Blacks are a bit like the Addams family in this scenario, they have a macabre way of doing stuff: their elves were all very devoted and thought it was an honour to be beheaded (which happened when they were too old or weak to carry the tea tray) and Kreacher even hopes that that will be his destiny when his time comes, like his mother before him. Dumbledore also says that "Mistress Cissy and Mistress Bella" were probably kind to Kreacher in their own way - Sirius was the one who was cruel to him, actually. They all saw elves as their natural slaves (which is bad), but they were part of the family just as much as servants were for an aristocratic family of the 1700s/1800s.

[songofassandfire]

R there any other mccormick ships u rly like besides kevlly? I love hearing ppl gush about ships lol ^_^

ohhh anon I like this question 👀 damn this got pretty long tho

Well first and foremost that I have not made it a secret that I unironically enjoy Stuart and Carol's relationship. Now I understand why that would be a little uhhhh... controversial. They don't treat each other well most of the time they're on screen together, to put it lightly, and are usually fighting more often than not. But like... there's enough little bits of genuine affection here and there, even just in the background details, that I can't help but believe that there's a real loving relationship that's just bogged down by their own shitty personal decisions and generally bad lot in life.

I always felt like they were just a picture perfect couple when they were younger, and I think that sweet and loving side of them is still in there if they can just chip away at all the bullshit. I dunno how to really explain this ahjdcvhgdj I just feel like they both really do care about each other overall and the moments they are getting along are really sweet to me. They're also both hot.

(sidenote some ppl seem to get real technical about "it's not a 'ship' if it's canon/they're married" with canon couples. which is annoying to me bc a ship is still a ship even if it's canon isn't it?? like it's just shorthand for "relationship" right?? whatever blah)

I also really like Stuart and Gerald together a bit jskhdcvjhkvf more in a "best friends who almost were" kinda way. The kind where they're not technically exes, but it was so close they might as well be exes. if that makes any sense ajhcbjhkfvrj basically all I'm saying is they've explored each other's bodies.

Aside from Kevlly, I also like the idea of Kevin and Michael together, even more of a crack pairing than Kevlly but still good in my eyes sdvchjgsdh

idk the other two Mccormick kids seem to get along fairly well with the goth kids and I feel like Kevin would be no different in that regard. He's generally not loud or in-your-face about trends n shit, but he's got a rage inside him, and I think Michael would appreciate that tbh. Meanwhile, Kevin doesn't really understand all the darkness and pain and edgy stuff that Michael uses to express himself but he's surprisingly easy to talk to while also able to enjoy the comfortable silences.

I've had this headcanon for a while that Kevin and Michael bumped into each other behind the school while they were both skipping class at the same time, and they kinda just became casual smoking buddies. Of course in a shipping context one of them then develops a crush on the other (I usually pick Michael bc I think having a crush on Kevin's oblivious ass would actually piss him off and I think that's funny. Despite them seemingly dropping the goth Karen thing, if she were part of the clique I feel like she'd try so so hard to be a good wingman and fail at it even harder).

I am also briefly considering Kevin/Jenny Harrison, but I mostly have it in my head as a relatively short lived relationship that wasn't bad at all, but not built to last. Kevin encourages her to try new things, mostly things that definitely go against her religion. Just a little dose of rebellion, nothing too major. As for what breaks it off for good, one time Kevin almost actually gets her in trouble, and it scares her enough to snap right back into the rigid good girl thing even harder. Jenny, heartbroken as she was about it, decides it's for the best for them to not be together anymore.

I'm not as into Bunny as I used to be, but it's still a top tier Kenny ship imo. I know most of their one-on-one interactions are largely confined to one episode and that much of the fanon content surrounding them is ooc at best and unsettlingly fetishized at worst, but I can't help but be attached to the idea of them together.

I never consider it in a "one saves the other" or even a "both saving each other" context, I mostly see it was they just kinda give each other a breather from all the fucked up shit in their lives. Like everything sucks ass but at least they have each other. To me it's like, Butters is borderline bloodthirsty and also a huge pain in the ass sometimes but Kenny, as exasperated as he is, can't help but want to stick by him, if that makes sense jahbdvjhfsjhv

Now Kenny and Cartman isn't as popular as some of the other Kenny ships, but it really should be if I'm honest. Even though there's moments in the show that have Kenny just unequivocally hate Eric, I do fully believe that they really are best friends.

It's kinda hard for me to really explain why I like it so much (mostly bc liking kenman is a newer thing for me khajsfhjgr). I just think that despite all the ripping on Kenny for being poor n shit, Cartman just kinda gets him in a way that Stan and Kyle don't? Not to say they aren't close with Kenny or anything... god I really don't know how to explain this shdcvhjvfjhg all in all they good

Tfbw dlc also gave us some blessed interactions between Kenny and Henrietta tho. Like I definitely think at least Henrietta is interested in him, I'm pretty sure they were basically flirting the whole time. Plus her knowledge of Old Ones can give him some insight on his whole curse deal. Chill, laid back guy x monotone and serious goth is a top tier dynamic, personally. Just all her black clothes and goth makeup standing next to Kenny's orange ass. As much as I like kenrietta I don't really have much to say about it hgdhgdedgj it's just a really nice ship. Like, who deserves a goth gf more than Kenny?

There's a LOT of good Kenny ships out there but going through them all would take ages haha just know that stenny, K2, and tolkenny are also high on the list

Karen and Tricia I guess kinda depends on your interpretation of them as characters, since Karen has little canon character and Tricia has even less. Karen is obviously a timid and lonely kid, while I see Tricia as more of an assertive, confident, no nonsense, rude-because-I-can-be kinda girl. So, in my head, they balance each other out pretty well. Obviously they wouldn't actually get together until they're at least a little bit older, though.

Aaaaand that's about it, I guess haha. As u can see I think about the mccormicks an awful lot

[amethystroselily]

You ship FuyuHina and then there is me who ships kazutora and Izana 😭

Yeah, sorry about all those posts…

Low key high key convinced Izana would try to murder Kazutora if they ever met (with him killing Shinichiro and all) BUT they are very similar in some aspects and would be interesting character foils if they knew each other in canon (probably because they’re both Mikey’s character foils, and that pretty much boils down to “same mental illness” which I think is fun) so I understand the appeal.

I’ll probably get over the whole Chifuyu x Hina thing soon, but I’m going to be so insufferable if there’s ever any sort of confirmation. Which there won’t be. But there might. But probably not. Honestly half of the appeal of it is intrinsically tied to Maitake for me. Like, Hina realizes she can do better, Takemichi realizes he can do so much worse. That’s a hilarious concept to me. Also it would be so funny if after all that terrible dramatic bs Kisaki and Takemichi pulled fighting over a girl, she ended up with neither of them and Takemichi chose someone considerably worse than her even though he technically “won” that love triangle. Another part is just that it would be funny if Chifuyu dated Takemichi’s ex. Not very in character, but not completely out of character either, just mostly. Two characters getting together out of spite for another character is a fun concept to me.

The part that isn’t entirely related to Takemichi is that they have to have formed some sort of relationship, I don’t just mean romantic (even if it’s not romantic I still want them to be friends), because they are 2 out of 5 people who know about the time travel. Mikey’s off ruining his own life and now Draken’s dead and Takemichi might fuck up all his relationships to go fix Mikey, so they might just have each other in the end. Also we all know both of them prefer future Takemichi to past Takemichi, and they’ve been stuck with past Takemichi for two years, that combined with the shared secret? They might be friends. Also, Chifuyu is always the person to remind Takemichi of Hina, and he keeps calling her pretty and saying she could do better than Takemichi. Which doesn’t have to mean anything, but it could. It might just be tied to Chifuyu’s hobby of bullying his friends though. Also… I just think they’d be kind of cute together.

So it’s like half crack ship, half completely unironic. (I do like other Chifuyu ships, it’s just Baji’s dead and Kazutora’s going to be in prison for another eight years, so like he’s definitely free right now)

[aprito]

hello <3 since i got these asks at the same time i decided to combine my thoughts on them in this post. yet another annoying sjw essay from yours truly on this blog 

before i get into these i think i need to preface why im like. i guess overly hyperfocused on a certain unproblematic base (same age au / platonic canon) for them and avoid the ped0philic content like the plague lol

tw for pedophilia ment, rape ment if that makes you squicky. ALSO THIS IS LONG AND RAMBLY

as i’ve mentioned a couple times already, ive been into the ship since i was 12, back when it was very very common to not only post untagged (nsfw) canonverse content of the two in writing and in drawing but also non con and the like, so you can imagine how bad my first impression online was. thinking back on it ...as a child i found it disturbing but didnt really register how problematic it really was?? (i know, but i also lived in the middle of nowhere and had no one explain this to me) 

skip to 2014 aka me coming back to naruto at 17ish and i had kinda become hyper aware of the fact that there was an increasing amount of people online who had come forward with explaining how fictional problematic content, mostly pedophilia, had been used to groom them into starting relationships with adullts. it was also a time where a lot of people didnt believe these victims, not registering how common it was for minors to be online friends with adults who had no boundaries and no qualms exposing them such content. not gonna get into my personal life here but i was lucky to not having gone through this myself. like... it kinda was my first time truly realising how fiction can EASILY be used to manipulate others irl (and yes i will not argue this, if you dont think fictional media can form and manipulate people’s opinions on attitudes, countries, cultures and virtues, pick up a book about the effects of propaganda media at least once please) 

i, being young, still liking the dynamic but not really the romance, would point this out here and there in the fandom and get into fights with grown adults in their mid 20s who assumed i automatically hated the ship(s) and tried to restrict their freedom of speech or whatever, heard everything from the “age of consent doesnt exist in naruto” to the “sasori looks like a child what does it matter” despite people clearly playing on him being older and experienced. it made me so upset that people were just consuming all this content uncritically and exposing children to it tbh?? not really just sos but a lot of minor/adult ships in naruto in general. and thats where i sat down and thought, i do not want to be a grown adult talking down to children that point out how unsafe the fandom is. theyre absolutely right in drawing these boundaries and calling out adults who defend the uncritical consumption and creation of this content. i do not want to consume or create content that predators could use to groom minors, and i absolutely do want to let younger people in fandom know that i am respecting their comfort zones and want them to have a safe and fun experience. after all, naruto is not an adult show and i think a lot of people forget that!!!! i am not perfect in that regard but its something that i, at the age of 23, am very passionate about and strive towards to.

and i guess thats where same age au was born for me and i have been sticking to it ever since. 

so finally we can move to the first question 

aside from the fact that we both dont like canon sos, i dont think it would work out even if i wasnt prejudiced to it anyways. in all honesty, 35 year old canon sasori is not a redeemable character to me, given the fact that he’s easily amongst the cruelest villains in naruto (torturing and killing and taxiderming people for his own fun personal gain, never for a goal that served anyone but himself. how do you redeem having over 300 corpses in your backpack that you felt absolutely no remorse for killing). sasori was legit one of the only cruel villains that didnt had someone else pull the strings, which sends a clear message on kishi’s part, who absolutely loves to redeem villains LOL.

being that old, he obviously had already been very manifested in what he believed in, even if it was shakey, to the point where the first crack in that world view (sakura and chiyo protecting each other) immediately had him give up on his life all together. that, in my opinion, is not a man who’s going to know what healthy relationships would look like, regardless of it being romantic or not. 35 year old sasori to me has the same appeal as an expired can of tuna and he’s probably very happy 6 feet under. he’s supposed to be a failed gaara in that sense that he had no one to look out for him and therefore was never going to experience anything but a bad ending in life. its fine that hes dead honestly, it wraps up his short character development the best IMO.

adding to that, seriously, sakura was obviously interested in knowing why he was that way, and called him out for being seriously fucked in the head, but it’s weird to me that people assume she had any interest in actively rehabilitating him, let alone starting a serious romantic relationship with him. sakura who’s not only very, uhm, immature and straight forward when it comes to her romantic viewpoints also, as a big bootlicker, wouldnt soil her standing in the village by starting anything with a disgraced and far too gone criminal like sasori. shipping that version of sasori with sakura intimately is still going to set her up for a huge power imbalance that would be difficult to handle imo, even if she was the one in the fight ultimately exerting her power over him. i would still look at it and think damn she deserves better than having to play therapist for man like that lol.

additionally, even if you ignored all of this, you cant really ignore that sasori had already known her as a child, and that had been his first and most impactful impression of her. i dont think that sasori would look at 35 year old sakura and see her as a grown woman and not the little green girl she was in the fight. plus, you easily fall into predatory comparison territory between the “childish” and “womanly” and i have seen way too often in fic just being boiled down to her now being fuckable. a lot of of ships do this and i would just like to remind yall thats it not normal for adults to want to start relationships with children they have seen grown up or known as a child when they themselves were fully grown adults. therefore, maybe if sakura hadnt met sasori before it would be less of a problem? but that also obviously defeats the point of the dynamic and the reason he died in the first place. so yeah, it sounds kind of doomed especially if you were to make it romantic. 

WHICH BRINGS ME TO THE SECOND QUESTION

let me preface this that im not fundamentally against age gaps, even if im not super interested in it. after all, colorblind had a 5 yr age gap (with sakura being 21), even if, say, i wrote similar fics today i probably would make it smaller lol. i think it can be handled well if both parties have enough life experience to deal with it, and the author is cautious of where the age gap starts, i think a 10+ year age gap would be fine in a scenario where the younger party (i guess sakura) was at least 25-27ish, meaning she has completed most of her most formative life stages and probably had been in relationships before, meaning she would be able to handle it without having to fear a huge power imbalance. the older the younger party is the less the age gap is going to matter tbh .TsukiHoshino and AngelOfDeath10 both handle age gaps in their fics really well imo, so i do not mind reading about them.

unfortunately, a lot of people in this fandom think making sakura barely "”””legal””””” (18, not even 20 which is hilarious to me because the source material is obviously japanese) because they both cannot stand her being past her “prime years” of being young fertile and fuckable to much older men as well as thinking a 20 year old is automatically old enough to handle that type of relationship. ive seen a lot of unironic takes that believe it will absolve them of callout posts if they throw around age of consent and “shes 18 now suckers!!!” enough lmfao. absolutely hilarious. aging a minor up without aging the adult down seriously reeks of predatory “cant wait until youre 18″ narratives and thats why i find it similarly disturbing as straight up pedo shipping.

ultimately, sasosaku is and will always be a inherently problematic ship in canon, which is why i think it should always be handled a little more responsibly in fandom spaces, ignoring or outright excusing the main problem factor, which is sasori, isnt going to convince anyone that the dynamic in itself is well written and interesting enough to explore in aus, like giving sasori the redemption most of us wanted him to have by aging him down to a point in time where he was still realistically going to allow being positively influenced, similar to gaara. 

so really, what i think is well handled age gap and how most people handle age gap in the naruto fandom are two different worlds at times lol 

tl;dr

canon shippers have never been anything but gross when i was younger and i didnt wanna be like that, even if youre “smart”enough to differenate, actual creeps dont really care and might use your content to blur the lines, sasori isnt rly redeemable so romantic canonverse realistically wouldnt make much sense and is still iffy, age gaps are fine if they are handled well, but given that the dynamic doesnt really need the age gap to still work im not that invested on making that an essential part of my shipping experience.  

thank you for reading and hope this makes sense!

[anyway-i-love-vanderwood]

Hey! So, in honor of the holiday (and my poor, poor throat), how would the gang deal with MC being sick of Valentine's Day? The specifics can be up to you, it is your writing, as long as we can see some sweet Vanderwood? lolol

✿I wanted to do something short and funny to get back into HCs so thank you for this!

Yoosung

Until he actually hears your voice, he’s terrified that this is an excuse and he did something terrible to upset you. Like - oh no!! I’m the worst boyfriend!! So bad that my partner is faking sick because they’re worried I’ll publicly embarrass them or something!

I have to cancel the mariachi band I hired to serenade us at lunch!

(It was Seven’s idea. Yoosung has got to stop listening to that man.)

Once he realizes just how genuinely clogged, snotty, and feverish you are, Mama Yoosung comes out in full force. He spends the day doing all of your chores, feeding you, and generally being supportive, sweet, and loving.

He Googles every single home remedy for colds under the sun, adds in a few more from his mom, and makes you take them all.

After the fifth dose of bitter paste, you tell him that you’d rather fall into the sweet, cold embrace of death, thanks.

NO YOOSUNG, YOU ARE NOT DRINKING LIZARD BROTH.

Zen

When he learns that you’re sick, he howls with such despair that the neighbors actually bang on his door to make sure he isn’t fatally wounded.

How can you be sick? On VALENTINES DAY? The most important holiday of the year??!? He was gonna show you off to everyone! He was going to make all the singles feel what he felt when couples were broadcasting their oo-ey gooey love on the February Fest of Romantic Bliss! HE WANTED TO FEED YOU CHOCOLATE FONDUE AND GIVE YOU FIVE MILLION FLOWERS.

“Five million?” You repeat dully, your voice ragged from sinus drainage.

“Five million!”

Obviously, he insists on at least coming over so you can see his beautiful face watch romcoms together and cuddle, but he’s also an irrepressible cuddlebug and can’t not pull you into his lap for snuggles.

And smooches.

Zen, you’re lucky you have a god-tier immune system despite your nutritional intake being piss-poor, because you’re just inviting it in at this point.

Jaehee

On the disappointment scale, Jaehee checks in at around a… two or so?

She’s honestly more worried about you while simultaneously being annoyed that the booming business of Valentines Day means she can’t take time off to fuss over your health. Not that she doesn’t try, but you won’t let her because she needs the income. Running a small business is tough!

At around noon, a ring at the doorbell reveals Zen, who - with a flourish - reveals a bouquet, a resupply of medicine, and a drink from Jaehee’s cafe made especially for you. Zen will act as the courier of his favorite couples *~love~*!

Thanks zen

Once Jaehee can close up, she rushes over to come see you, and you have a wonderful, low-key tea, movie, and heart-shaped cake (that she made!) date on your couch.

Even though you’re sick and icky, it’s a nice day overall. Jaehee is a modest, warm, and caring soul who makes your stress just melt away by sitting next to you.

Or giving you a nice massage.

Thank you Jaehee and your martial arts grip!

(The others are under the read-more!)

Jumin

Oh Jumin.

He starts off the day with a racket. How could you have gotten sick? Where have you gotten germs from? STAFF, DISINFECT EVERYTHING NOW!

Once you get him to shut up honey please you are only making the headache worse, he gets much easier to deal with. Because of Jumin Han being Jumin Han, you are never actually obligated to leave your home and you have everything your heart could ever desire in the medicine, food, and chocolate category… but you still want to do something for Valentines Day with him.

Especially since Jumin Han has never gotten the chance to, well… experience the holiday in a pure way. What it actually means beyond the giant stuffed bears, fancy champagne, and chocolate truffles with too many vowels in their names.

So, you make him go on a walk with you.

He’s resistant - won’t that make your condition worse? Your insistence that you actually would like some fresh air makes him relent, and you take a short stroll together to a local park.

It’s… honestly really nice, snuggling against him against a bench and enjoying a puff pastry from a local food truck as you search for warmth against the chilly air. You people-watch, you point out fun outfits and sweet couples, and Jumin is reminded once more just how much he likes spending time with you.

No matter the setbacks, no matter the weather, no matter your current antibody level… just being with you is wonderful for him.

707

When you open the door, a rain of red sparkly glitter and shimmering confetti hearts showers down upon you. Beyond the pink mist is Seven, grinning like a jaguar and carrying a bottle of champagne in one hand and NyQuil in the other.

“Honey, I got you a gift you’ll never forget!”

“What, permanent liver scarring from combining alcohol and acetaminophen or the glitter I’ll never get out of my carpet?”

“Both!”

(But seriously please do not drink and take Tylenol/DayQuil/etc it is a bad body choice)

Setting the champagne aside for later (like, when you’re feeling better later), Seven pulls out your real gift, which is an intricately detailed chocolate sculpture of the Mars Rover that he had commissioned for this special occasion.

Like, it’s so pretty that you can barely bring yourself to eat it.

How did you get this, Seven.

This is ridiculous.

Seven takes you being sick in perfect stride, almost like he’d planned for this happenstance, and you have a wonderful Valentines Day with him playing video games, watching movies, and talking about which spaceships were destined to fall in love with each other.

It is a ship war.

V

“Oh… oh no… I didn’t get you sick, did I?”

v stop blaming yourself for everything!

V has had a rough time on the dating scene, so it doesn’t matter if you’re sick and feel like shit YOU ARE TAKING THIS MAN OUT ON A DATE.

“But - “

“NO BUTS, V. TODAY IS A DAY FOR AGGRESSIVE COURTING.”

“okay”

Armed with a bag full of tissues, a thermos of tea, and the desire to show V how good you are at romance, you take him to an art gallery, a concert, and a FANCY RESTAURANT WITH CAKES SHAPED LIKE ROSES. ROSES.

“D-do you… need to step out?” V asks in a hushed whisper as you try to blow your nose as quietly as humanly possible during a violin solo.

“i ‘ m f i n e”

He thinks its sweet, though he really does wish you’d spent the day resting given that tomorrow you’re even sicker. He’ll do all the dishes and bring you some hot tea in thanks for your struggles.

Saeran/Unknown

BUT YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO BE SICK ON VALETINES DAY, IT’S AGAINST THE RULES, HOW ARE YOU SUCH A BAD PARTNER WHO LETS THEMSELF GET SICK -

*cough cough* goes Saeran, and your eyebrows go up.

“Saeran, are those tissues in your pocket?”

“no”

“Saeran, is your… voice cracking?”

“nO”

“Saeran, is your nose red and running -?”

“NO AND STOP ASKING”

Anyway, long story short, the world’s favorite idiot dandelion is also sick on Valentines Day which is pretty typical considering he spends most of his time around you. Given the both of you are too mutually stuffy to go out and enjoy the day, you stay in and have tissue-basketball competitions and engage in your favorite pastimes: being annoying on the Internet, eating too much junk-food, and mutually refusing to admit that you’re both watching Twilight unironically. 

Which is honestly what you might be doing if you weren’t sick, but let’s not critique either of your dating techniques here considering its a miracle you aren’t both dead in a ditch somewhere.

Vanderwood

So uh. Does the relationship code obligate them to hang out with you on Valentine’s Day?

Yes?

Shit.

Look, they don’t like being around sick people, okay? And you’re so runny and germy right now. But Vanderwood also supposes that if the most romantic thing they can do today is clean up your snot, then whatever. It’s not like they actually care about a soulless corporate consumer holiday like Valentine’s Day or had plans for it or anything -

(”Vanderwood, are those tickets for that super popular musical that’s been sold out for two months sticking out of your pocket?”)

(”NO.”)

Anyway, you’re a walking plague ward, so Vanderwood puts on their face mask, strong-arms their way into your apartment (despite you telling them at least fifteen times that it’s fine, really, you don’t actually mind, they’ll catch what you have!!) and makes you chicken noodle soup. Like - goes all out on this chicken noodle soup. They make the noodles by hand! They simmer shit! Look at all of those finely chopped carrots and bits of celery, it’s like an episode of Top Chef! Damn dude, is that fresh oregano? Like, from a plant? WHY DID YOU BRING AN OREGANO PLANT OVER VANDERWOOD.

Despite them telling you to stay in bed and rest, they’ll bring you tea and medicine and cold cloths for your head, you insist on helping them. The germs will boil away with the heat, right? That’s how science works!

Vanderwood isn’t sure if that’s how science works or not, but they break when you say you don’t really want to be left alone and miserable in your room, and there’s something really appealing about you standing next to them, slicing bits of dough into thin strips of noodle and leaning against their shoulder for support…

Happy Valentines day, Vanderwood. Welcome to domesticity.

[silkygoldmilkweed]

And another thing!

The SanSan scene in “The Last of the Starks” happened in the midst of a veritable chain of couples scenes:

* BRAIME: Jaime follows Brienne out of the hall

* RANDOS: Tormund + Willa rando hookup; Podrick threesome

* SANSAN: Sansa sits with the Hound

* GENDRYA: Gendry proposes to Arya (I know people ship them unironically but this scene cracks me the fuck up)

* JONERYS: Jon and Dany go for a drunken consensual-incest hookup but Jon’s a prude, god bless

That’s every couple in Winterfell except GW/Missy and Sam/Gilly who are already in confirmed committed monogamous relationships—they’re settled, not still working through stuff.

Now the vast majority of the general audience would not consider the Hound and Sansa to be a possible or likely couple at all, in which case their meeting at the trestle table was just randomly timed.

But if you were inclined to think of them as one of being a part of the main emotional arc of the season—we might die, so how then shall we live?—you’d think that these two people being with each other, and not some other set of people, was important.

Brienne gets with Jaime, not Tormund.

Sansa initiates conversation with Sandor, not Tyrion.

Jon tries to take off Dany’s shirt and she tries to take off his pants and they aren’t trying to get with anyone else.

IJS the visual phrasing of filmed entertainment is carefully determined and not usually random happenstance.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

questionable government spies: chapter 6

THIS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER ITS ALSO THE LONGEST YEEEEEEEEET

_________

ship: platonic ralbert, eventual space, implied spromeo, implied finch and buttons

word count: 5778

warnings: race being race

editing: of course

__________

Despite falling asleep at 5:30 am, Race was up early(ish) the next morning, dancing around his kitchen in his pajamas to the classic Taylor Swift album Fearless, and making his signature banana pancakes. He actually wasn’t sure how he still had this much energy - researching Sean and convincing Albert to sleep had been very tiresome - but maybe it had something to do with the three cups of coffee he’d already drank.

Speaking of Albert, race glanced at the clock. It was almost 11 and jack would be there in a couple of hours to go over the plan, he should go wake him up. Race wiped his hands on the dish towel he had thrown over his shoulder before throwing it down on the counter next to the bowl of pancake batter and headed down the hall to his room where Albert was still asleep.

Usually, Albert would be sleeping in his own room, but his nightmares had been so bad recently that he had ended up in Races room the last two nights. Race didn’t mind, obviously. Albert was the only person left that he considered family - although jack was beginning to worm his way into his heart as a younger brother - and race was more than happy to help him in any way possible, even if that meant sharing a bed a few nights a month.

Race creaked open the door quietly and smiled when he saw Albert sprawled across the bed, chest rising and falling with even, peaceful breaths. Race almost hated to wake him, but he knew how prepared Albert liked to be before a mission.

“Albie…” race sat down on the top corner of the bed, close to Albert’s head, and began to trace his fingers through his hair. Sometimes, he would wake Albert up in obnoxious ways, usually by dumping water on his head or jumping on him or blasting an air horn, but he had the feeling Albert would not appreciate that very much today.

“Mmmmm,” Albert groaned, shifting slightly and leaning into Races touch.

“Albie you have to wake up.” Race continued to card his fingers through Albert’s hair, praying that it wouldn’t put him back to sleep. His mom had used this tactic to wake him up whe-

Race shook his head, willing the unwanted memory to leave and slowing his hand in his friends hair. He hadn’t thought about his mom in years. Why now? Why today, of all-

“Raceyyyy,” Albert whined, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Why’d you stop? That felt nice.”

“I know it felt nice,” race placed his hand on the bed. “Please get up, we have to go meet Sean in a couple of hours.”

“Don’t wanna.” Albert rolled over so he was facing away from race. “I wanna sleep.”

Race rolled his eyes before flopping on the bed behind his friend. “Pleeeeeeease,” he whispered into his ear. “I’m making pancakes.”

Finally, finally, Albert cracked open his eyes. “Banana?”

“Is there any other flavor?” Race hopped up off the bed. “I’m expecting you out here in 5 minutes to guess my pancake shapes!” He announced before exiting the bedroom. Based on the clunks and banging he heard, race suspected that the call of food was too much to keep his friend asleep.

Race cranked up the Taylor Swift and powered up the stove. In no time he had a batch of questionably shaped pancakes on the griddle and was improving to Love Story. He had just landed a quad pirouette between flipping pancakes when Albert walked in, wearing black jeans and a royal blue long sleeve shirt, hair still damp from his shower.

“Hey ba-” be paused, coughing, “buddy,” Albert said, hopping up into the counter.

“Hey yourself,” Race said, turning down the music a little - Albert hated Taylor Swift with a burning passion - and flipped another pancake. “What shapes do you think we got today?”

“Hmmm,” Albert leaned over to look at the sizzling pancakes. Race always made his pancakes in fun shapes using his special technique - blob some batter on the griddle and hope for the best. Albert’s job was to figure out what Races pancake blobs looked like. “That one is definitely a duck.”

“Really?” Race cocked his head and squinted. “I think it looks like a pink peep.”

“A pink peep?” Albert screwed up his face as he stared at his friend in disbelief. “Race, it’s a beige pancake, it can’t look like a pink peep.”

“Eh, tomatoe tomato.” Race turned back to his pancakes, missing Albert’s fantastic eye roll. “What do you think Sean is going to be like?”

“I think he’s going to be a tough gangster who’s going to beat your ass if you’re not carefu- ah!” Albert yelped as race pulled him off the counter, twirled and dipped him dramatically.

“Maybe so,” Race whispered seductively. “But I’ll just whip his ass on the dance floor.”

Race smirked at the annoyed face Albert put on as he set him gently back on the floor. The dip was a good move, he was going to have to remember that the next time he ran into someone hot.

“Race, I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“Albie, how many times have I told you that dancing is always the answer?” Race turned off the stove and threw his spatula in the sink. Albert chose to ignore Race’s comment. “Grab some plates so we can eat? I’m going to go change.”

“Don’t take forever! I’m hungry!”

Race shot Albert a wink and some unironic finger guns as he slid down the hall in his socks to his room. Luckily for Albert’s lack of patience, Race has been a dancer his entire life and could change relatively quickly when he wanted to. Within a few minutes he was seated at the table, wearing a pair of cuffed maroon pants, a white long sleeve and white high top converse, blonde hair freshly fluffed.

“Why are you actually dressed nicely?” Albert asked as he dumped an unhealthy amount of maple syrup on his pancakes, glancing up to give his friend a once over. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere fancy.”

“Maybe not, but we are meeting Sean, and we’re going to have to work with him for the foreseeable future, so I’d like to make a good first impression.” Race stared at his pancake - definitely horse shaped - for a moment before cutting into it.

Albert set down his fork, staring at Race in disbelief. “He’s a criminal.”

“He’s also a human!” Race declared. “Where do you think criminals come from? Space?”

“No but-”

“Exactly.” Race took a bite of pancake, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he chewed thoughtfully. “Therefore, I am entitled to make a good first impression. After that I can go back to wearing oversized sweatshirts and jeans if it would please you.”

Albert opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the apartment buzzer going off in Morse code. The two listened to the brief message before Albert and race yelled in unison: “Hey yourself, idiot!”

There was fumbling and a few muttered curse words before the door opened and jack strode in, wearing one of his signature band T-shirts - this one advertising fall out boy - black jeans and his paint splattered vans.

“Jack, how to you always manage to show up as soon as there’s food?” Race noted as he got up to get jack a plate of pancakes. Race had grown up in a family of 9 people and try as he might, he could not figure out how to make food for only two people - even five years after he left his family - so there were always tons of leftovers.

“How do you two always manage to not respond to my entrance message in Morse code?” Jack countered, digging in to the stack of pancakes Race had deposited in front of him.

Race and Albert shared a look. He did have a point.

“So, is this thing still on?” Jack asked, mouth full of pancake. “Or is race ditching us to go on a date?” He waved his fork in Races general direction.

Albert gave Race a pointed stare. “You know what, I’m glad you asked jack. Race here thinks he needs to give Sean a good first impression.”

“A what now?” Jack looked at Race quizzically.

“A good first impression. You’ve heard of that, haven’t you jack?” Race felt like banging his head into a wall. “Where you get dressed up and pretend to be nice only to reveal that you have terrible fashion sense and a bitchy attitude later on?”

“I know what a good first impression is, race” jack sighed. “I’m young, I ain’t stupid. But I don’t understand why you need to make a good first impression on a gang member.”

“My point exactly.” Albert smirked at Race. “I’ve raised you well, jack.”

Race sighed. If there was one thing he had learned it was that if you can’t beat them, annoy the crap out of them and try again. “Fine guys, if it bothers you so much, I’ll go change.” He placed his fork neatly on his plate, pushed his chair in gently and walked calmly toward his room where he rummaged around in one of the many still unpacked cardboard boxes.

“He’s not changing is he?” He heard jack ask Albert from the kitchen.

Albert said nothing in response and race could almost see him closing his eyes in defeat. Finally he found what he was looking for and ran back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, young jack, I don’t give up that easily.” Race sauntered into the kitchen and draped himself against the wall dramatically. He was now wearing a brown fedora style hat with a feather on it, several rings, and a gold hoop earring in his cartilage piercing. “Who’s making a good first impression now?” He mocked, quirking his eyebrow and flipping his friends off.

Albert all but slammed his head into the table. “This is going to be a long day.”

•••

Race passed out the coms units to Albert and jack as he reviewed the plan one final time. “Okay, so, me and Albert are going to meet Sean inside. Jack is going to be sitting here in the van watching us and the surrounding area through the cameras that he’s hacked in to. We get as much information out of Sean as possible. And for the love of French fries, only use your code names.”

Albert gave him a mock salute and jack merely nodded, he wasn’t thrilled about being stuck on van duty - again - but they couldn’t risk jack saying something he shouldn’t.

“Let’s go kick some gangster butt,” Albert said as he opened the door of the van.

“No butt kicking yet,” race reminded him as he shut the door behind them, giving jack a tiny wave. “First we make nice and steal information out of him. Then we kick his butt.”

“See, there’s a reason you’re always good cop.” Albert pulled open the door to the coffee shop and made a dramatic after you gesture. “Ladies first,” he winked.

Race stuck his tongue out playfully and entered the shop’s entry hallway. Albert had chosen this location strategically. The Bean House was owned by an ex FBI agent and it’s employees were field agents who were waiting for their next case or needed a cover story. Albert and jack were going to start working there tomorrow. Race would have been joining them, but he couldn’t operate the fancy coffee machine to save his life and the last time he had worked there he’d started a flood in the kitchen. So the FBI had pulled some strings and gotten him a gig guest teaching at one of the downtown Manhattan dance studios. He was very excited. But, meeting a gang member at this coffee shop ensured that, if needed, they had an entire staff of highly trained field agents ready on standby.

“Race wait,” Albert called out suddenly, grabbing his shoulder before he could enter the shop. Race turned, looking at him expectantly. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “What if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing’s gonna go wrong, Albie.” Race smirked. “It’s just a meeting, and all of our friends are here to back us up if we need them.”

“But-”

“Oh come on, we’ll be fine,” race dragged Albert by the hand as they stepped from the hallway into the shop. “Besides, I think romeos working today and I haven’t seen him since that horse gang in Indiana 3 years ago.”

Right on cue, an excited yell pierced the air. “RACETRACK HIGGINS!” Race let go of Albert’s hand and ran toward the counter.

“ROMEO! MY LOVE!” Romeo came out from behind the counter to greet his friend as race tackled him in a hug.

“O race,” Romeo said, pulling away. “I hath missed thee.”

Race laughed, ruffling his friends hair, too excited to speak back in their standard shakespearean. “Missed you too, you idiot.”

“Hey stop that!” Romeo yanked Races hand out of his hair. “I spent 15 minutes styling this mess this morning to impress the ladies!”

Race snorted. Romeo was a bigger flirt than he was, the only difference being he actually had a boyfriend.

“Speaking of impressing people,” Romeo stepped back to look at Race. “Who are you so dressed up for?”

“He’s trying to make a good impression on the gang member we’re meeting,” Albert sighed, staring at his friend disapprovingly as he made his way over.

“Albo!” Romeo clapped Albert on the back. “Good to see you bro!”

“How’ve you been, Ro?” Albert turned to race. “By the way, you forgot these.” He held out Races pair of gold rimmed glasses that doubled as a secret camera.

“Thanks, bro,” Race said, taking the glasses.

“Wait, you guys got the YMONY case?” Romeo walked back behind the counter. “Specs has his eye on that one, but I’m kinda glad we didn’t get it cause it seems next to impossible.”

“We think Jacobs gave it to us to try and get us kicked out,” Race said.

“Oh my god, is he still mad at you about the weapons lab thing?” Romeo had still been in training when that particular event had happened, but everyone knew the story.

“We don’t exactly have a reason to think otherwise,” Albert said. “We’ve got our first meeting with him tomorrow, so we’ll see.”

Before Romeo could respond, Medda Larkin, better known to everyone as Miss Medda after her most legendary case where she went undercover as a member of the British Royal Family (some of the boys also called her mom), blew in from the back room. “Race and Albert! Boy it’s been a while since I’ve seen you two, where have you been keeping yourselves?”

“Never too far from you, Miss Medda,” Race said, giving her a hug. “But at the same time, kinda far because I’m pretty sure your kitchen has a restraining order on me.”

“That restraining order just means you can’t set foot in the kitchen, you’re still more than welcome to stop by the shop anytime you’d like, hun.” She turned to Albert. “And you! I hear you’re coming to work for me!”

“So it seems,” Albert said, accepting Medda’s hug.

“Do you still play that guitar of yours, cause I was thinking that maybe you could play for the customers a few nights a week.” Medda raised her eyebrows at Albert.

Albert had found an old guitar at a thrift store when they were younger and taught himself how to play. He had gotten quite good, but never really performed for anyone, save race, his bedroom wall, and occasionally Jack. Race wasn’t actually sure how Medda knew that Albert played, but then again, Medda knew everything.

“Albert would love to play at the shop,” Race butted in before Albert could say no, throwing his arm around his friends shoulders. Albert shot him a look of annoyance, but said nothing. He knew that arguing with race was never a good idea.

“Fantastic!” Medda clapped her hands together in excitement.

“Dude, you’re working here?” Romeo asked, lightly punching Albert on the shoulder. “That’s gonna be so fun!”

“Yeah,” Albert said, “me and jack, Race has a gig teaching dance somewhere.”

“Who’s jack?” Romeo asked.

“Just a guy we were put in charge of training,” Race said. “He’s really fun, hacks everything and can paint really well.”

“Well I am delighted to meet this jack of yours, maybe he can paint a mural for me on that wall over there, I’ve been wanting to spice it up a little,” Medda pointed to the side wall of the coffee shop. Suddenly, there was a yell from the kitchen. “I have to go, hopefully Specs and Buttons haven’t flooded my kitchen,” she shot Race a look.

“Sorry Miss Medda, it would appear I’m a bad luck charm for your poor kitchen” race called after her.

“Tell Specs and buttons we said hi!” Albert said, and Medda nodded.

“So you guys have an apprentice?” Romeo asked. “Who put you in charge of that? You guys are like the least responsible people ever.”

“We’re not that bad,” race mumbled, digging around in his pocket. “And speaking of jack, he’s gonna be pissed I haven’t turned on my comms yet.” Race shoved the device into his ear. “Vincent? Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, rapunzel,” jack said. “Although I would appreciate it if you didn’t forget about me, elbow had his comms in the second you left the van.”

“Yeah yeah sorry about that,” race sighed. Then he turned to Romeo. “Hey, Rome, would you mind being our backup incase something goes wrong?”

Romeo’s lips spread into a devilish grin. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

“Good,” Race plopped a comms unit into his hand. “My code name is still rapunzel, Albert’s is elbow - don’t ask - and jacks is Vincent. Are you still-”

“Nicholas, yup,” Romeo said, cutting him off. “Like Nicholas sparks.”

“You got all that, Vincent?” Albert addressed jack.

“Mmhm, hey Nicholas,” jack responded. “Also, it’s coming up on three, you guys should get ready.”

“Roger that,” Race said.

“What’s this guys name?” Romeo asked.

“Sean Conlon. He’s in YMONY,” Albert responded.

“Damn so what if he goes like full gangster and pulls a gun on you?” Romeo was always prone to drama.

“That my friend,” Race said, clapping Romeo on the back. “Is where you step in.”

“Right, right,” Romeo smirked. “Go have a seat where I can see you, and try not to get killed.”

Race flipped him off as he and Albert weeded their way through the tables to one a few feet away from the counter where Romeo was going to be working. The two of them pretended to leaf through the menu for a few minutes before the bell above the door clanged.

“Rapunzel, Elbow, I think that might be your guy,” Romeo said.

Race looked up at the door and saw the backside of a short figure with brown hair and a sweatshirt on.

“Physical description?” Jack asked.

“Short, maybe 5’ 2’’, medium brown hair, jeans, gray sweatshirt, athletic build,” Romeo replied.

Albert caught the guys eye and waved him over.

“Are you the FBI people?” Man, that guy had a thick Brooklyn accent, but it sounded familiar, where had he head that before? Race looked up from his menu and gasped. “You?”

The man - Sean, apparently - was looking at Race in equal amounts of disbelief. This was the guy that Race has run into on the street the other night when they had been going to the diner. Thankfully, he looked a lot better - Albert had probably been right, there was someone at home to clean him up - but he was still sporting a black eye, bruised jaw line and temple and there were white bandages encasing his right hand. Aside from the visible injuries, Sean was, to put it quite simply, hot. He had dark tan skin and messy brown hair and gorgeous warm brown eyes that looked like pools of melted chocolate and despite his tough exterior, race thought that he looked adorable and comfy in his oversized gray pull over sweatshirt. Race could hear voices in his comms, probably Romeo and jack asking what had happened, but he chose to ignore them, instead deciding to try and subtly get lost in Sean’s eyes.

“Bow tie boy,” Sean said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “You clean up nice.”

Race felt a blush creeping onto his face and he shot a sideways glance at Albert saying see I told you it’s important to make a good first impression, but he wasn’t paying attention.

“Wait,” Albert said, narrowing his eyes. “You two know each other?”

“Why am I not surprised?” Race heard Romeo say. “Race has always been one to befriend criminals.”

“Shut up, Nicholas,” jack said in Races ear, saying the words he couldn't. “And rapunzel, for the love of Shawn spencer, turn on your freaking eyeglass cam!!!”

Race removed his glasses, pretending to clean them, but secretly switching on the camera. “Sean and I-”

“It’s spot,” apparently spot said. “If I’m going to work with you, you will call me spot.”

“Fine. Spot and I,” race amended. “Ran into each other on the street the other night when we were walking to that diner.”

Race saw the realization click in Albert’s eyes but didn’t push the subject further because he could tell it was upsetting Spot.

“Well, Spot, it’s nice to meet you,” Albert said. “I’m Elbow, and this is my partner Rapunzel.”

“What the hell kind of names are those?” Spot asked, raising his eyebrows and making a face of disgust.

“Code names,” Albert said defensively, leaning forward on his elbows. “We can’t tell you our real ones for safety purposes.” Spot rolled his eyes dramatically. “Speaking of safety purposes, I’m going to have to pat you down for weapons.” Albert stood up and walked around the table to spot.

Over the comms, Romeo snorted. “Just when you thought Elbow couldn’t get any better at bad cop.”

“Shut up, Nick.”

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doin there hot shot?” Spot threw up his hands in surrender. “I don’t got nothin on me.”

“Well then this shouldn’t be a problem.”

Race couldn’t help but smirk as Albert began to pat Spot down. He loved watching Albert play bad cop, it was more entertaining than any tv show. And it didn’t hurt that Spot looked extra cute when he was flustered. Wait- did he just say Spot was cute? Well, he was. Especially now, when Albert was searching him for weapons and he managed to look equal parts annoyed and still manage to be attractive. Maybe it was a good thing he had dressed up this morning…

“See, I knew you were hiding something.” Albert flung a pocket knife into the table, looking very smug with himself. Spot just looked even more pissed of. “At least you didn’t have a recorder on you.”

“You know there’s a thing called voice memos on a phone, right?” Spot sighed.

“Yeah,” Albert smirked, holding up what race assumed was spots phone. “I know.”

“What?! How did you?!” Spot lunged across the table reaching for his phone.

Albert avoided Spots hand and tucked the device neatly into the inside pocket of his jacket, right next to one of his two guns - the other being strapped to his ankle. Race subconsciously patted his own gun, which he kept in his “lassie holster” as Albert had dubbed it.

“I’m not sure, it’s almost like I’m good at my job,” Albert winked.

“Go Elbow!!” Romeo whispered.

“Nicholas, I swear to all things hacking and or acrylic paints if you don’t shut up I will march in there and dump every fancy flavor of iced coffee that happens to be on sale on your head.”

“Fine.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Elmer,” Spot sighed, mostly under his breath. “Listen, I’ll talk to you guys, or whatever, just this once. That’s it, but on one condition.”

“Which might beeeee…….?” Race crossed his fingers under the table, hoping it was a kiss from yours truly.

“I get coffee first,” Spot said, picking up the menu and flipping through it.

Race and Albert shared a look. They’d dealt with more difficult people before, this should be a piece of cake. “Works for me,” Race said. “I’m past due for a fourth cup of joe.”

“Rapunzel,” jack said, through his earpiece. “On behalf of Elbow, who I can see is glaring at you right now, and the entire population of New York City, I beg of you, please don’t order another cup of coffee.”

Race chose to ignore jack and waved Romeo over so they could order.

“Helllllllloooooooo there gentlemen,” Romeo said, batting his eyelashes. “My name is, er, Nicholas, welcome to the bean house! What can I get for you on this fine November day?”

Spot, very wisely, ignored Romeos act. “I’d like a large, full strength black coffee with four shots of espresso and a side of you making these idiots,” he gestured to Albert and race, “leave.”

“Oooo, burn,” jack whispered unhelpfully.

“I’m not sure what I can do about the second part, but I’ll have your coffee out in a minute.” Romeo turned to race and Albert. “And for you two dashing fellows?”

Albert rolled his eyes. “I’ll have a medium hot chocolate, extra whipped cream.”

“And I’ll have a ⅔ caff, triple ristretto, affogato large, with two pumps mango, one pump classic, 2% milk, mango to the second line, 3 scoops protein, 3 scoops berries, 2 scoops matcha, with banana, double blended, with whipped cream, caramel sauce, salted caramel topping, vanilla bean frappuccino.” Race snapped his menu shut, savoring the look on romeos face as he tried to scribble down Races order.

“Alright, I’ll be right back with that,” Romeo scurried back behind the counter and out of earshot where he was able to curse out race in every colorful way he could imagine.

“Damn, kid,” spot said, pushing up his sweatshirt sleeves. Race could see several tattoos peeking out from under his bandage. From his angle they looked like colorful squares and on the inside of his forearm there was what race could only assume to be the Brooklyn bridge. How typical of him. “Is that even coffee?”

“Yup,” race smirked back at him.

“So, Spot,” Albert said, eager to shift the conversation away from Races strange coffee addiction, “working for, well, you know, is that your only occupation?”

“No,” spot said. “Me and my buddy Elmer co own a tattoo place near the bridge.”

Ah, that would explain the tattoos, Race thought. But- “Aren’t tattoo artists usually, like, covered in ink?” Race asked.

Spot gave him a sly smile. “Sometimes, but all of mine have meaning, and meaningful tattoos aren’t the kind that you can just plop on your body for no apparent reason.”

Race supposed that made sense. He personally did not have any tattoos, although the always thought it would be cool to get one. Maybe Spot could - no racer are you insane? This guy is here to give you information, that’s it, no strings attached.

Race tuned back into the conversation just as Spot was rattling off what race assumed was either his home address or the address of the tattoo place - maybe both? Albert was writing down all of the information into his phone frantically.

“So, this gang,” Albert said. “Tell us all about it.”

Spot seemed unsure. “Are you sure?”

“This is a secure location,” Race said. “No one's listening.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” jack mumbled.

“Well there are five branches,” Spot began. “Drug deals, which is run by Morris Delancey, Robberies/ Heists, run by Oscar Delancey, Prisoners, Recruits, and Confusing the authorities . They all report to someone higher up, but I don’t know who that is. They don’t really tell us any more than we need to know.” He didn’t say in case we get caught or try to overthrow them but the meaning was still there.

“Which one are you in?” Race asked.

“Robberies and heists.” Ah yes, that would make sense as to why when race had run into him he had been beaten up, probably a robbery gone wrong.

“How much can you tell us about that sector?” Albert asked as Romeo came over with their drinks. He set them down on the table with a smile, which turned into a glare as he unceremoniously thunked Races monstrosity down in front of him.

“Not much,” spot said, stirring his drink. Race noted that he didn’t put any milk or sugar in it, gross. “It’s run out of a used car dealership, Autos For Less, in Brooklyn. We’re divided up into different teams, so if someone isn’t in your team then you don’t have any reason to talk to them. Heists take place usually once or twice a month and the thing you’re stealing could be anything. One time it was a truck of gummy worms, another time it was a brand new Tesla. There’s no rhyme of reason. You just don’t ask questions and do whatever Oscar tells you to.”

“So, you don’t know when the next robbery is, then Race asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Alright, blondie-”

“Rapunzel.” Race just couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a tangled reference. He could hear jack and Romeo and surprisingly Albert groaning in his earpiece, but he chose to ignore it.

“Gesundheit.” Races head snapped up. Did he just…? There was a mischievous glint in spots eye. Oh, he definitely did.

“OH SNAP!”

“A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN!”

“I CAN ALREADY HEAR THE WEDDING BELLS!”

“RAPUNZEL AND SPOTTIE SITTING IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Listen,” Spot continued. “Heists are only for people who are in top physical condition. And I missed payment the other day, hence the beating. So, Oscar will keep me out for at least a week, maybe two, depending on how desperate he is.”

“Oh.” Race didn’t even care about the fact that there wasn’t a heist anytime soon. He hated the thought of spot getting beat up for something as small as missing a payment. Whatever that even meant.

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Albert asked, licking some of the whipped cream off of his hot chocolate. So much for a menacing bad cop.

“No.”

“So what you’re saying, and correct me if I’m wrong here,” Race began, removing the straw from his drink and waving it around for emphasis, “is that we have to wait at least a week, maybe two, until you’re all healed up, tag along with you on a heist, kill some bad guys, and maybe figure out what Oscar is up to and who he reports to?”

Spot didn’t respond, instead he chose to give Race a fantastic glare.

“Why are you glaring at me like that?” Race jammed his straw back into his drink and took a long sip. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to deal with hot, annoying criminals.

“I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust.” Spot crossed his - very muscular - arms and continued to stare Race down. Race took that as an invitation, and stared right back.

“Right, okay, I’m sure you have a good reason,” albert said, attempting to avoid a physical fight, “but we do need information and that’s the only way I can possibly see is getting any. Other than by joining the gang itself.”

“Even if you did that, there’s no guarantee that we would end up in the same unit,” Spot grumbled, never taking his eyes off of race. “Unless I put in a good word with Oscar, which might not go very well considering the circumstances of our relationship.”

“Perfect,” Race said. “I volunteer as tribute.”

“What?!” Albert shrieked, almost spilling his hot chocolate. Race could see the desperation in his eyes. Albert always put himself into the dangerous situations. But now, especially now, Race couldn’t risk losing him. Specifically because they were in his hometown, his family a mere 10 blocks away, and if he lost Albert here, now, whether permanently or temporarily, he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle it.

“No,” spot said, foiling all his plans of heroism. “I will not risk it. As it is, I’m going to get locked in the prison sector for life when they find out I’ve betrayed them. We don’t need you getting locked up there too.”

Albert weighed out the options.

“I hate to say it,” Romeo piped up, finally with a useful bit of information. “But Rapunzel is right. That’s the only way to find out anything useful.”

“....alright,” Albert said. “I see why you’re saying, but I agree with Rapunzel, we should try to get all the information we can. And since we’re the agents in charge we have the authority to do that. But just for the record, this wasn’t my idea to send him in there.”

“Or mine,” spot added.

Albert removed spots phone and pocket knife from his jacket along with a post it. “Here’s your stuff back,” he said. “You can reach us at that number, call us when you get Rapunzel the gig.”

Spot pocketed his items and picked up his coffee gingerly in his bandaged hand. “See you around, blondie,” he said before turning to leave.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Albert turned to him, ripping out his coms. “Antonio Edward Higgins,” race jumped at the use of his real name. “Would you like to explain to me what the fuck that was?”

“I volunteered for a job.” Race stared back at Albert with expert nonchalance.

“A job that might get you killed!” Albert fumed for a moment before regaining his composure. “I just, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me Albie,” race groaned.

Albert let a small smile show on his lips, but race could tell it wasn’t genuine. “Damn, what are we gonna tell Jacobs tomorrow at our meeting?”

“The truth,” race looked up, Romeo and jack were approaching their table, most likely to talk about Spot. “There’s potential that I could get killed, are you kidding me? He’s going to be thrilled. Frankly, I am too. I get to be a real life Disney villain.” Race gave Albert his best evil stare and began to whistle “Ways To Be Wicked” from Descendants 2.

“Oh my god, Race”

__________

ahhhhhhhhhhhh I looooooooooove  please gimme feedback on this one y'all cause it took forever

feedback is always appreciated hmu via ask to be on the tag list

tag list

@fairly-awkward-trashcan

@well-the-kids-do-too

@racetrackcook

@bouncyscreamingnewsboys

@ughwaitwhat

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@ben-cook-can-cook

@the-woild-is-my-what-now

@elmer-s-s0cks

@voice-foundshoe-lost

@galaxy-trees13

@stopthe-presses

@ridin-in-style

@pinecovewoods

@imjusttheoutgoingsidekick

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@bencookisagod

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

@hellasoulless

@stellar-alpaca

@saxoph-ella

@smolcanadiangirl

@disney-princess-sized

@the-kool-aid-man-is-real

@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog

@insane-tomato

@so-up-rolls-a-riot-van

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@have-we-got-news-for-you

[franeridart]

after watching the new episode i was wondering if it possible for TodoBaku or is there moment that show Bakugou doesn't really mind about Todoroki in the later chapter ? and what's your opinion in TodoBaku ? how do you see their relationship ? Thanx :)

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh what a good great unexpected question - personally, I don’t ship it romantically one bit, but it is one of my favorite dekusquad/bakusquad relationships - I guess you might consider it something similar to an accidental sort-of-friendship neither of them seem to actually have noticed yet? It’s definitely a unique relationship for either of them, at least… they make it clear more than once that they Do Not Give A Fuck about the other’s personal struggles, I just can’t see them talking and finding sympathy in each other, but that just ends up giving them a kind of blunt and no-bullshit relationship that doesn’t stop them from working together when needed. I don’t know how to properly explain it, honestly, but they’re fun! 

I don’t know how much spoilers you want so I’ll keep this as vague as I can, but they do happen together more than either of them would like, and their relationship is a really amusing one for me - Todoroki actually cracks jokes with Bakugou around, though always with his neutral face and making fun of Bakugou himself when he does, and the way he has of just straight out ignoring Bakugou’s insults and fire-spitting and answering as if they were having a civil conversation is weirdly entertaining tbh

I wouldn’t say that Bakugou “doesn’t mind Todoroki”, but he does end up having way more important things to think about than his one-sided rivalry with him, and once he starts settling things with Deku the narrative mostly moves to push in that direction, which means that every interaction he has with Todoroki is either on neutral grounds or in the middle of forced cooperation, pushing any antagonism they might have to the background, really - also, the more the story goes on the more Bakugou becomes civil with the rest of the class, so there’s that too! Anyway, they’re fun to me, I wish to draw more of them in the future tbh

Anon said:I do laugh at Bakugou’s reaction on the podium bc visually its animated funny. But u r right that the whole thing is fucked. How is that even appropriate to do to him? And it takes until after his fight with deku many arcs later for All Might to say “we maybe sort of neglected this kid’s mental health.” Like wtf. It upsets me sometimes to think just how much All Might just doesn’t even *see* Bakugou. So much is wrong about this, from putting Bakugou on display to forcing the medal on him.

Blessed words all of them - it’s why I’m such a fan of the idea of Bakugou without even noticing switching his role model to Aizawa, actually? Aizawa’s the only adult figure in the whole manga who’s constantly been there for Bakugou, he has his future and mental health and reputation constantly in mind and works his ass off to try and help him along as much as possible, he takes note of everything Bakugou goes through, every switch in mood and worsening in personality and interpersonal relationships, and he’s always incredibly fast in nudging him towards the right path again - and Bakugou noticed. He trusts Aizawa to know him, follows his directions and accepts his advices, believes he’ll have his back without an ounce of doubt, that’s the tutor/student relationship Bakugou deserves 

I understand that All Might has a lot of problems of his own and he’s just learning to be a teacher anyway, but he found it in himself to be there for Deku, while Bakugou has been obviously staring at his back for the whole length of the manga and it took All Might 120 chapters to notice, that’s just plain sad

Anon said:What’s your favorite Bakugou headcannon?

BOI I have a lot! One is mentioned in the ask up there, actually haha but generally you can see most of them in my art? I like the idea of him being an artist a lot, given how both his parents are into it, I like to think he’s a rock-music type of kid, I have weird headcanons about his dorm room all including too fancy-looking designer furniture and one too many hero figures stuffed under his bed - he might have a fire extinguisher or two in there as well. Also, he’s a restless sleeper (more like a fighter sleeper) and never wears socks ever

I like to think most of his clothes are black because it’s the color on which the soot from his explosions is the least noticeable, and that he unironically honest to god thinks skulls are the coolest thing ever and can’t stop himself from buying every piece of clothing with them on it (first time he entered Tokoyami’s room he died what a cool place he never wanted to leave ever again); that he really doesn’t like the sea - or taking long baths/showers - because water washes his sweat away and he feels defenceless and it’s horrible, and that rain makes him useless like it does to Mustang from FMA (haha)

He names everything after fire arms (has an extensive, nearly to the point of being uselessly detailed knowledge of those) be it his special moves or his pets or his toys when he was a kid or every and each of the pokemon he’s ever had in any game he’s ever played - he’s a gamer! Mostly into fighting games, though they frustrate him because now and again he blows the controller up without realizing and he’s forced to stop playing, but he also likes strategy-based rpgs a lot (all his characters are called King Of Explodo-kills. All of them)

He talks in hyperboles most of the times, means a thing but uses a word fifty times stronger than necessary to express it instead, and he’s so not used to positive emotions that the first time he feels them it takes him a while to figure out exactly what it is that he’s feeling - he’s an affectionate friend, though he has weird ass ways of showing it, and this part of him is new to him as well since it’s just coming out now that he’s got the squad (he was nearly sure the kids in middle school were his friends, but what kind of friend leaves you to be saved by Deku when a villain attacks?) (meeting the squad made him realize he’d never actually had friends before, it was a bittersweet feeling)

………..okay enough, you asked for my fave and I just blabbered half an hour. I don’t even know which one’s my fave tbh hahaha

Anon said:as much as I like the anime, seeing the sports festivals always makes me sad because bakugou is still an angry kid, but at that time thats pretty much the only thing people see, while after in the manga, yes hes still angry but hes softer? in a way? idk he grew up so seeing him back at the first point makes me sad (sorry for the rant I have a lot of feelings abt this lmao)

He HAS grown, hasn’t he! I hadn’t realized just how much until I saw him back at the beginning of this season yelling at Todoroki the he should stop thinking about Deku and start worrying about him - it’s? Painful? He’s in a constant fight against the whole world, while now you see him way more with his guard down and just… existing. I’m so proud of him and all the good great amazing relationships he’s built ;u;

Anon said:What episode 12 needs is the bakusquad getting angry at how Bakugou was treated because you can’t convince me they were okay with that.

Hmmmmmmmmmm boy I would love that, but all things considered at that point, given how Kaminari and Mina and Sero reacted to Bakugou’s fight with Uraraka, I can kind of safely assume they didn’t think much of it cause they honestly thought Bakugou would flip and destroy the world if not restrained - Kirishima might have found it eccessive, possibly, but in that case too his relationship with Bakugou was just being formed, he didn’t know Bakugou enough to be sure he wouldn’t just lounch himself at Todoroki as soon as he was free

What I can imagine is all four of them some months in the future thinking back on it and going, man, fuck, that really was messed up, what the hell, and for a whole week Bakugou’s highly confused and kinda creeped out by how nice they’re being to him (at some point he starts thinking it’s a quirk) (they stop and go back to normal once they realize he’s honestly trying to figure out a way to unmake it)

Anon said:have you ever thought about…. ojinari (denki and ojirou) beings best buds or just hanging out? and i always liked the idea that baku and kiri get a little jealous whenever denki fawns over ojirou’s soft tail

I have!! It’s also pretty much canon, they’re seen interacting a lot - I don’t know about jealousy tho, mostly because I like to think Baku and Kiri enjoy Ojiro’s friendship a whole damn lot too haha Ojiro’s probably the only one who trains just as much as they do, really, he must be a great gym partner

Anon said:Holy mother of–the medal around Bakugou’s neck is just–I have no words but it’s such a really thoughtful and beautiful way to represent just *waves hands* I can’t explain it but it was really perfect and you’re such a great artist aND BAKU DESERVES BETTER

Holy smokes thank you!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my god!!!!!!!!!!! ;;;A;;; I’m so glad you liked it, oh b o i and yessssss at least he deserves a lot more respect than he ever gets from anyone that isn’t his friends ;~;

Anon said:I know the chains and muzzle were probably(?) for comedic effect like “hahaha he’s so angry we had to restrain him” but dang I’m with you that was just wayyy too far. Crossing into inhumane territory there

;-; I’m so glad I’m not the only one that feels like this about that

Anon said:Okay…. but have you considered in the recent chapters….. platonic kirideku….. (please, I need more of their pure friendship)

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm I have, they’re pretty cute and pure and Kirishima’s a ball of excitement and fighting spirit as usual and Deku is kinda there trying to keep up all wobbly smiles and good intentions (he’s not used to the hype people poor child *pats his head*) which is amusing, I don’t mind their relationship at all! But as of now I still haven’t found anything about it unique and interesting enough to make me want to draw it? They’re cute! But they feel… sorta superficial? Like, Kirishima’s friends with everyone, and Deku’s friends with everyone, so of course they’re gonna be friends with each other too! But that’s about it right now. I dunno, maybe it’ll develop more in the future and I’ll decide I want to draw it, who knows!

Anon said:Have you seen that vine with the drunk guys recording singing backstreet’s back? The guy recording is kiri the guy angrily carrying the other drunk guy is baku and the guy being carried is kami

Oh my god this is the best thing I’ve thought about all day, bless you anon hahaha I can’t stop laughing send h e l p the angry look is just so Baku how did they even get him to carry Kami rip

Anon said:I’m sorry if this is annoying of something (mostly bc it’s not a question really) but I REALLY needed to tell you your art is awesome and you made me giggle like a little girl (especially at your kiribaku stuff), and I spent hours at it. You’re amazing!!

It’s not annoying at all!!!! Oh my god, thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Sero giving Bakugo some kind of tape corset is just… omg Fran.

It’s not easy keeping the explosive friend at bay, but someone gotta do it (usually it’s Kirishima) (Sero works well enough when the target of Baku’s yelling is Kiri himself, tho)

Anon said:I just wanted to let you know that bnha has been all over my dash forever but the only reason i’m watching it is you. I found you through your haikyuu art (the bokuku.roteru comic to be specific) and I was sad that you don’t post much hq anymore, so I figured I would watch bnha so that I could enjoy your art to the fullest 😅 I’m only 8 episodes in but i like it so far!

I’m!!!!!! So happy you’re liking it, holy smokes!!!!!!!!! *O* thank you so much for deciding to try it out only for my art, oh myyyyyy ;u;

Anon said:Okay so… This is going to sound honestly terrible but… If Suneater needs to eat something to get his abilities, what would happen if he ate a human with a quirk? Would he be able to use it too?? Gosh. This is so morbid. Sorry for the ask.

DON’T!!!!!!!!!! worry anon this is a home open to every and each speculation as far as quirks go I live for this shit - also I might or might not have thought about this too (I have) and I guess as long as quirks are classified as physical attributes then he would gain the quirk? Mutations, for sure, but stuff like Bakugou’s sweat works too (he can use the venom in the animals he eats so nitroglycerin sweat is fair game) and probably body-shifting like Kirishima would work as well… I’m not sure about stuff like Shinsou’s quirk, but if there’s a gene or an actual mutated part of his body that can make him control people, then probably it’s be okay too

Please Jiki don’t ever eat anyone, tho lol

Anon said:I also am weak for the need vs want. I’ve actually said that to people. Don’t need you, I want you hahaha love you, Fran!!

Anon said:OMG Fran the comic !!! the soft kiribaku !!! and i love that Bakugou can still live without Kirishima but his live will be colourless, just LOVE IT !!!!!!

THANK YOU BOTH SO MUCH OH MY GOD!!!! I’m super glad you liked it!!!!!!!!!!!!

[the-void-of-space]

Dafy/void

Thank you for asking I didn’t actually respect a response so I tried really hard and took my time on writing this one out! thank you so mutch! Im not a writer quite the opposed so please excuse my spelling mistakes.(thank you tho!!!)

Full Name: Daffy Nox( She is kinda based on me)Gender and Sexuality: Female panromanticPronouns: She/herEthnicity/Species: Half dutch half American, was born human later after messing with dark magic half human half shadowling/shadow demon with the two fighting for dominance,Birthplace and Birthdate: Holand 18-07-2199Guilty Pleasures: ( I still don’t really get guilty pleasures so stick with me) She love cartoons but she won’t tell until you mention it, unironically wears onesies around the house with fluffy blankets when it even gets a little cold,Phobias: afraid of ever hallucinating, being forgotten, Losing her memories, and ironically still a bit afraid of the dark.What They Would Be Famous For: Being able to learn a dangerous forgotten magic and being able to use it to her advantage.What They Would Get Arrested For: Using dark magic without any licenses and teleporting around via the shadows on private properties and just wanding around at night and being spooky.OC You Ship Them With: Ziya/Zip ( I can crack ship my own OC’s).OC Most Likely To Murder Them: At this point Dummy mostly by accident still has a sword but you know or Quintin.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: sci-fi, Action, and thriller, loves robots and creepy weird stuff but not too screamy like horror.Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche:  Romance or comedy where people are immediately forgiven for a lot of bad stuff cause of plot?Talents and/or Powers: She is pretty decent at baking and can dance really well. Her powers would be shifting into her shadow form and use it to hop from to other shadows with only light shape-shifting before it starts to affect her mentally and hurt her. After using her powers and shifting to her “human” form she will start to feel empty tired her skin will kinda itch and feel dry as her powers run on her own emotions and she is really more shadow then human.Why Someone Might Love Them:  She may seem pretty closed of and defensive but get to know her and you will find out that lady can ramble about her love for weird magic, robot’s, cartoons and other weird goofy things. And once you befriend her it’s kinda hard to get rid of her as she is quite forgiving and patient as she knows she might as well skew up horribly one day and hopes people will do the same if she messes up. She will treat her friends with love and would wake up early to make you cookies when in a good mood if you’re really lucky she tells you her secret and take you to them the moon and back with her powers if you don’t tell anyone. Why Someone Might Hate Them: She seems quite shy and uncaring about a lot of stuff when you first meet her. She is really closed off and loses track of her thoughts fast like she isn’t totally there, can get really defensive over stuff others might consider small stuff.How They Change: They used to be totally different like just extremely shy and were created for RP along while ago her design was just a magic user without consequences with black hands and a red scarf. Her life isn’t that easy now as she looks now more like a casual teen next to a D&D character that lives with her dad with her own struggles and has unusual friends thanks to a weird club she was forced to join.Why You Love Them: She was always kinda there a way just to express my feeling tho I didn’t understand them she was there to help me cope, her powers are based on weird feelings and got me through some tough years. I think I got too attached to her she became her own character what I’m proud of but still pretty similar but I don’t really write stories so I think I can just enjoy my self with her!

[marvelandponder]

In the Shipping Biz, We’d Call This a Crack Ship

Well now, isn’t this adorable? Two characters who, before now, haven’t had screen time together get to share an adorable nose-boop (which in kids show terms is third base). And yet my mane 9 ships sit on the shelf. There really is no justice. 

So, I’m a bit behind on episode reviews thanks to midterms and finals, but with a few days before the season comes back on air, I at least have a chance to catch my breath.

Which would be a good time for a breath of fresh air.

And I wouldn’t quite go that far with this episode, but I still find it fascinating in its own way. 

For me, the episode itself isn’t as memorable as I think it could be, and with both Big Mac and the CMC participating in a romance plot it’s hard not to draw comparisons to Hearts and Hooves Day, but there are a number of entertaining elements in there that make it a decently good episode.

That said, as someone whose held discussions about shipping and canonizing ships before, the subject of romance in Friendship is Magic is one I find myself coming back to a lot (like I did for Pride month). 

Because friendship is and rightly should be the main focus of the show, romance is relegated to either married couples, or weirdly enough, the boy characters.

... Yeah, no, not kidding.

Apart from Rarity’s two fleeting crushes (and not counting the EQG movies), Spike and Big Mac are the two characters most frequently and profoundly affected by romance plots. I think there’s a bit of role reversal, in a way: The two most prominent boy characters are the ones who either have an ongoing crush that lasts multiple seasons, or get involved with different romantic interests at different times.

But, anyway, no matter the character, in episodes dealing with romance, the plot is structured in such a way that a friendship lesson can be learned. I think that’s why this and Hearts and Hooves Day ended up having so much in common: Big Mac is both minor enough to not require multiple episodes per season, but major enough for a romantic development to have some significance. 

And of the characters who are close to him, the CMC do seem like a good choice to learn the lesson about fairytale romances being vastly different from reality. 

I’d actually argue Spike might’ve been an even better choice than those three (what with his ongoing crush and all), but since Sweetie Belle is the best choice of all and you couldn’t have her going by herself, boom, the crusaders as a whole unit.

There’s just enough to differentiate this from Hearts and Hooves Day, but I definitely wouldn’t want a pattern of episodes that are this similar to past episodes emerging. Tread lightly, writers.

So, yeah, apart from Equestria Girls, this is the first ongoing relationship to be started with a Mane Cast member, and I’ll be interested to see where they take it from here! 

Will we see their relationship take center stage in an episode going forward? Or, maybe just a few moments sprinkled throughout episodes showing us that their relationship is developing in the background?

Either way, definitely neat to incorporate a romance that isn’t pre-determined to end with marriage. 

But, anyway, let’s talk more about the episode itself!

One aspect in particular that seems to be a lot more divisive than I expected was this little shit:

Hellooo, Vincent “Waifu Stealer” Tong (for real, though, he’s honestly such a great voice actor, I’m glad to have him back any time)

Now on the the one hand, I can understand the sheer loathing this bugger produces. I survived the days when Justin Beiber was a popular young tween on the road to super-stardom despite many eardrums screaming no.

But then again, I survived the days of Justin Beiber. I’ve earned this parody. Plus, being born in the late 90s, I grew up in the early 2000s, which is a time I lovingly refer to as 90s backwash.

Oh sure, the 2000s had their own emerging... “Style” (she said, as if she doesn’t still enjoy it unironically on occasion), but the days of manufactured boyband pop groups with frosted tips and a deep love for their gurls was still clinging on, to the point that there was a lot of parodies, loving or otherwise. Those parodies are what I lived off of.

For those of you who grew up with Fairly Odd Parents, Chip Skylark. Any of you Simpsons fans might remember an episode with the Party Posse, a boyband composed solely of 4th graders with the dubbed voices of dreamy teenage boys.

Even just recently Gravity Falls featured a boyband called Sev’ral Times, and Star Vs. The Forces of Evil has Love Sentence.

So I guess what I’m saying is, there’s a special place in my heart for boyband or girl group parodies, and Feather Bangs (god, what a name) is no different.

I can get the malice, but I enjoyed him way too much.

And they even made him a likable character in the end. Who knew cloned boyband pop sensations could be socially anxious? Good twist on an already funny character.

As to the moral, I really enjoyed it. It’s the perfect thing for the target demographic to learn because they’re the ones currently being surrounded by all those fairytales Sweetie Belle was reading.

Plus, no matter what you’re age, I think you can appreciate the sentiment that the constant onslaught of perfect, storybook romances in media doesn’t translate to reality---and not even in a pessimistic way. I’ve seen shows that take that moral to sad, but real places, as in, even if you try it can be near impossible to get it right with someone.

While a dose of realism has it’s place, I also like what FIM has to say about it. That fairy tale romances are unrealistic, but real romances are about caring for another person in the way they want and need to be cared for, and in the end that’s something just as magical.

 It’s just... real nice.

Also, D’AAAAAAWW.

Sorry, had to get that out of my system. 

Details, Thoughts, and Whatnot

It’s the little things that make me smile.

The line delivery on “A spy pirate. A spyrate” sums up my sense of humour 

I love that you can go back and see Sweetie Belle reading the book of fairy tales on the trip

I think this is a rather nice way to give us more ways to develop the ponies of Our Town/Starlight’s Village, if we so choose to revisit this place; nice that these characters can have connections to the outside world now

The CMCs continue to be adorable children. Just, like, the urgency in Applebloom’s voice when she says “Ya gotta tell her!” as she’s, like, shaking her big bro and being all supportive... these three are precious

When Big Mac goes for the kiss while Sugar Belle’s sleeping, I’m just sitting here like

The duet is a lot of fun! I wouldn’t say it’s one of the classic MLP songs, but it’s a delightful sequence, and gives the animators a chance to throw in some more inventive and colourful imagery in an episode that’s largely set in a drab desert town

Oh! And it looks like Sugar Belle isn’t the only one hooking up with someone. Night Glider and Party Favour, huh? As someone who can ship pretty much anything it comes as no surprise, but like, I can ship it

I like the shelf thing. Sure, you could see it coming, but it illustrates the moral really well, so what the hell: when it’s cute, it’s cute.

And I think that’s a good phrase to sum up this episode. It’s not a true standout, but it’s got a few charms here and there to make it a worthwhile episode. another good entry in the season.

It’s good to be back. But hey, I’ve done other stuff before! Here’s the link to my reviews, my editorials, and hell, here’s the last three things I’ve done, to make it even easier for you:

LGBT+ Editorial, Trailer Analysis, and Comic Con Coverage

Year of the Pony

Special Thanks to Millennial Dan on Deviantart, who made the Microphone vector for the logo!

Huh. Big Mac Really Does Get All the Mares

[anarchetypalarchive]

we must be miles up

aka that ninja ship party (brian/danny) post-concert whippets fic for the wonderful @egocentrifuge‘s birthday rating: m for non-specific dick grabbing  content warning for recreational drug use (nitrous), unironic use of the word ‘tubular,’ and excessive pining on ao3 excerpt:

“Hi,” Danny says, like he doesn’t have his arms full of bright, neon-colored balloons. “How was your shower?”

“Did you rob a clown,” Brian says flatly.

“I have drugs!” Danny singsongs in reply, stepping into the room and letting the balloons tumble out of his arms and go rolling in random directions.

“Are those drugs LSD, and did you take them ten minutes ago?”

Danny laughs at him and scoops up one of the balloons, pops it into the air in Brian’s direction. “No— The concert, remember? You were asking about whippets. And here they are. I made whippets appear. I’m the goddamn whippet king.”

“Ah,” Brian says, letting the door swing shut and catching the balloon before it hits the floor. “I remember. And then I said, ‘after the concert, why don’t you go out in your boxers and buy drugs?’ That was my favorite part of the conversation.”

“These are indeed my drug-buying boxers,” Danny says, agreeably and without hesitation.

Look, Brian is—Brian is hip with the kids, okay?

Really. He spends most of his days playing video games and writing songs about dicks. He regularly performs for crowds of twenty-somethings. He has an instagram.

But sometimes—very occasionally, once in a blue moon—he has to outsource information about hip things to somebody more knowledgeable.

Unfortunately, that somebody is usually Danny.

Danny is, somehow, the youngest old person Brian knows—which is some hell of a feat, honestly, because he includes himself in that list of young-old people.

Meaning Danny regularly squeals with unbridled joy over Skittles, and Danny is incapable of encountering a chair or couch without sitting on it sideways or backwards or upside down, and one time Danny pushed aside a room of eight year olds to get a turn at hitting a Dora the Explorer piñata, and then again to grab several handfuls of cheap dollar store candy.

But Danny is...worldly, or whatever, and perhaps more intune with all things “cool,” not that Brian would admit it. Brian is cool. Brian is hip! He has a phD, okay, he knows things.

What he doesn’t know is why the hell a few handfuls of people in the crowd at their concert are holding inflated balloons.

They stand out like a sea of multicolored jellyfish, or like Bozo the Clown got drunk and wandered into a concert and forgot how to make balloon animals. Brian stares at them from backstage where he and Danny are waiting for the opening band to finish their set, and he wonders if this is the new version of holding up lighters or the lit screens of cell phones.

He says as much, wondering aloud, and glances over in time to see Danny blink at him in surprise before he breaks out into giggling, snorting laughter.

Brian tries to be insulted. Which is—not easy, to be honest, because mostly he’s just appreciating Danny’s face and the way he squeaks when he laughs too hard.

As it is, Danny doubles over and ends up with his ass on the stage floor, legs bent, head between his knees as he, in Brian’s frank opinion, overreacts completely to a totally reasonable question.

“You know, you’re really harshing my quest-for-knowledge mellow right now,” Brian says dryly.

Danny visibly struggles to quelch his giggles. “Sorry,” he says, not looking particularly sorry at all. “They’re, uh, balloons filled with noz, dude.”

Brian gives him a look he’s hoping isn’t as blank at it feels. “Okay.”

“Nitrous,” Danny clarifies, and then, “They’re whippets, man.”

Ah. That one hits. He wasn’t aware that shit was still popular since, hell, the early nineties. “They look like they got lost on the way to a bar mitzvah.”

“My bar mitzvah would’ve been a hell of a lot cooler if these guys showed up.” Danny pauses. “And creepier, seeing as though it was filled with a bunch of dorky twelve year-old Jews.”

“You do it before?” Brian asks, curious despite himself.

“It’s been a while. Used to at concerts and shit. It was…really fucking good, actually.” Danny’s eyes drift like he’s remembering something sublime. “Why,” he asks, reaching up and making grabby hands at the air until Brian rolls his eyes and takes his hands to haul him to his feet, “you interested?”

And that—that’s actually an interesting question. Brian’s instinct is to say no, just on the basis that huffing gas out of a gross balloon in a city he’s never been to before just feels like a less than exciting endeavor.

But the way Danny had looked in his reminiscence—that’s something to consider. And, anyway, Brian is hip, remember, he’s cool, he’s willing to entertain the idea of huffing gas out of a gross balloon in a city he’s never been to before.

“Sure,” he says, shrugging. It’s not like it’s going to happen any time soon; they’ve got a full schedule for a majority of the night. It’s not like they have time to go looking for a balloon dealer in the middle of a crowded concert.

Danny opens his mouth to respond, and then Brian registers the fading applause and the squeak of microphone feedback as their band is introduced. Danny lights up, bouncing on his feet a little. Brian smiles at the fact that Danny’s excitement over an imminent performance hasn’t lessened since their early days. If anything, it’s gotten even greater.

Then Danny’s throwing an arm around Brian’s shoulders, and they’re walking out on stage as they jostle each other in little hyping-up actions, and Brian’s half-blinded by the lights as applause fires up again, and he forgets about much of anything other than the crowd and the stage and Danny.

——

There’s an energy that remains long after the end of a successful show; it usually means Brian and Danny spend far too long meeting with fans, signing scraps of paper and fanart and random objects (a dildo, once, that was memorable) until their well-meaning manager ushers them back to their hotel. By then, they’re near-dead on their feet.

Danny’s got his arm around Brian’s shoulders again as they walk unsteadily down the hallway towards their hotel room. This time, he holds up his phone. Brian smiles tiredly until Danny explodes into an improvised thank you commentary to their fans with enough glee that he’s clearly amused at Brian’s confusion.

Brian gives Danny a small shove and steals his phone from him to add to the video, grinning as Danny swears and stumbles against the wall. They scuffle a little for the phone good-naturedly, shouting over each other at the camera (“Thank you all—” “Well, I thank you all more—” “I thank you all the most—” “Times infinity—”) until a disgruntled hotel guest throws open his door and snaps at them to shut the hell up, people are sleeping here.

The video ends with Danny giggling out an apology over his shoulder as they finally reach their room at the end of the hall.

Brian fumbles with the room key, having to slide it a few times with increasing impatience until the light turns green and he can push the door open.

And then Danny’s crashing into him from behind, shouldering past him into the room. “I call first shower!” he sings out, voice hoarse from the toils of the concert but no less delighted for it as he tosses his bag down haphazardly in the entryway, charges into the bathroom like a conquering general, and pulls the door shut behind him.

“If you think that’s going to stop me from coming in there with you,” Brian starts, struggling to keep the laughter from his voice in favor of a faux-menacing tone, and then he gives up and grins when he hears the unmistakable click of the lock of the bathroom door sliding into place. “A celebratory bro shower,” he calls out over the sound of the water turning on. “Like football players do after the big game? Probably? Dan?”

He’s mostly talking to himself at this point, moving further into the room to claim a bed. The only benefit to Dan commandeering the bathroom is that Brian can now be a supreme asshole and take the bed Dan’s going to want—the one closest to the door, farthest from the AC, because Danny always ends up freezing his skinny ass off in hotels.

That might have something to do with the fact that Brian turns the air down to ‘Hypothermia for Dan’ levels on the totally legitimate pretense of it being scientifically better for the health of specifically and only your balls if you sleep in the cold.

(“You can’t use your PhD in fucking theoretical physics as an excuse to pretend to be an expert in everything,” Danny complained once.

Brian had taken that as a personal challenge and then, well, here they were.)

So Brian takes the bed closest to the door, farthest from the AC, and tosses his duffel bag down before he collapses onto the plush sheets. He’s still buzzing with post-concert adrenaline, with the two encore performances that had left Danny with a hoarse voice but grinning wide, the both of them squinting against the stage lights out into the crowd as the final strains of “Wish You Were Here” drifted out and bled into applause that rumbles and hums in the center of his chest even now.

This is Brian’s life.

Yellow light from the parking lot filters in through the thin curtains, and maybe it’d feel tepid, lonely, if not for the muted white noise of the shower running and steam rolling under the crack of the bathroom door and Danny’s gentle humming, changing keys on a whim with little hoarse post-show voice cracks that shouldn’t be so endearing.

This is Brian’s life and it’s surreal, sometimes more so in the gentle aftermath of a concert than in the heat of one.

Not that the shows don’t have their moments. Danny gets so caught up in the energy sometimes that it’s like his emotions can’t stay within him. More often than not, that manifests as Danny sprinting across stage to wrap Brian in a bear hug after their final song and kissing him so hard on the cheek Brian thinks—hopes, sometimes—it’ll bruise.

But Brian remembers the first time, early this year, that Danny’s traditional end-of-show kiss landed directly on his mouth.

There’s a photo some fan took that’s made its rounds on social media—it’s the split second after Danny kisses him and pulls away: there’s the blur of Danny bouncing back to center stage, and there’s Brian, wide-eyed, hair mussed, mouth open slightly. During the show, he’d managed to compose himself pretty quickly, but Danny discovered the picture within a few days and was so delighted by it he still sends it to Brian sometimes.

And so now sometimes Danny half-tackles him at the end of shows and ambushes him with a kiss—a real one.

And it’s—it has to be an adrenaline thing, a celebratory thing, a raw energy reactionary thing, because Danny never makes a big deal out of it and it never lasts more than a fraction of a second and he never mentions it after.

And Brian doesn’t ask about it.

And it’s fine.

It’s just a thing they do.

Brian kicks off his shoes and lets them drop from the bed to the floor as he tugs his phone from his pocket, pulls up the Instagram app to watch the comments start pouring in on the video they just uploaded.

One day, maybe he’ll get used to their popularity and the virtually instant feedback it provides, the outpouring of support and love; for now he smiles at the generic i wish i could’ve been there! comments, the i was there and it was fucking incredible, the come to my city next!

He huffs out a laugh at someone’s i’m calling the police. danny’s making me confused about my sexuality and can’t really stop himself from typing out a quick Get in line in response.

A few minutes later, he rolls his eyes at someone’s reply of Danny and Brian sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I -N-G. Rolls his eyes harder when he sees the comment came from Ross.

He’s about to reply to that, really gearing up for a stupid, satisfying back-and-forth, when a rush of steam billows out from the bathroom as Danny pushes the door open. He emerges from the cloud of steam, skin wet and flushed from the heat of his shower.

Brian is, somewhere in the back of his mind, aware that he’s staring—and, fuck, he’s never going to learn any better than this, is he; he’s never going to end up anywhere but here, watching Danny like he’s on the outside looking in, like Danny’s not tangible for him, like the way he looks at theorems he can’t touch.

Danny catches Brian staring and grins, striking a dramatic pose that nearly dislodges his towel and almost gives Brian a fucking heart attack. “How do I look, stud?”

“Like a demented Towel Wizard,” Brian deadpans.

“You’re goddamn right I do,” Danny says proudly, pulling a shirt on over his head. He drops his towel to pull on a pair of boxers, and Brian—doesn’t pretend to leer, doesn’t make a joke, just glances away and doesn’t look back until Danny’s towel hits him in the back of the head.

Brian snorts and finally hauls himself out of bed, gently shouldering Dan out of the way and tossing the towel on top of Danny’s damp poof of hair as he goes to take his own shower. “If you used up all the hot water, the police will never find your body.”

“Uh. I gotta— I gotta go, you know what, we need ice, I’m gonna go get ice.” Danny’s laughing as he ducks out of reach of Brian’s annoyed, swatting hands and grabs the ice bucket before darting out of the room barefooted.

The only consolation for the lukewarm shower is that he’s almost positive Danny left without grabbing his copy of the room key, and Brian’s not going to be in a hurry to finish showering to let him back in when he has to do the Knock of Shame.

Surprisingly, Brian gets in and out of the shower with no sign of Danny returning, and it’s only when he emerges from the bathroom with his hair wet and plastered down to his head that he hears—well, not a knock. It sounds more like Dan is kicking the door.

“Property damage,” Brian calls out, and takes his sweet time letting him in, throwing on an undershirt and a pair of sweatpants and fuck you, Ninja Brian likes to go commando sometimes.

He’s not expecting to open the door and see Danny with his arms full of bright, neon-colored balloons.

“Hi,” Danny says, like he doesn’t have his arms full of bright, neon-colored balloons. “How was your shower?”

“Did you rob a clown,” Brian says flatly.

“I have drugs!” Danny singsongs in reply, stepping into the room and letting the balloons tumble out of his arms and go rolling in random directions.

“Are those drugs LSD, and did you take them ten minutes ago?”

Danny laughs at him and scoops up one of the balloons, pops it into the air in Brian’s direction. “No— The concert, remember? You were asking about whippets. And here they are. I made whippets appear. I’m the goddamn whippet king.”

“Ah,” Brian says, letting the door swing shut and catching the balloon before it hits the floor. “I remember. And then I said, ‘after the concert, why don’t you go out in your boxers and buy drugs?’ That was my favorite part of the conversation.”

“These are indeed my drug-buying boxers,” Danny says, agreeably and without hesitation.

And, alright, sure, Brian had asked about the balloons, had expressed interest in trying inhalants—he’d try anything with Dan, the definition of succumbing to peer pressure, the archetype of the teenager doing anything to get a smile from his crush, and it’s not like he’s a goddamn straightedge, hello.

He just imagined getting high with Dan for the first time to look like—fuck if he knows, just something different than a dark, strange hotel room in a dark, strange city, balloons floating in air-conditioning flurries over the carpet.

Danny ducks down and scoops up a bright green balloon, reaches out and bobs Brian gently on the head with it. “So. You ready for this, Daddy-Mack?” he asks, which—that’s not really fair, actually, because aside from the fact that daddy just came out of Danny's mouth, whatever the form, Brian’s still trying to psyche himself up.

You have to give a man the proper psyching up timeslot before encouraging him to inhale copious amounts of nitrous. That’s just polite.

What Brian intends to do is give a deadpanned intonation of “You better believe it, baby.”

He’s pretty sure what he actually ends up doing is giving Danny a deer-in-the-headlights look and blurting, “What.”

This is because Danny blinks at him in surprise, and his tone is concerned when he asks, “You’re not, like, nervous, are you?” which basically makes Brian want to go outside onto the balcony and find out if it’s possible to die from a fall from the fourth floor.

He struggles to save face, to smooth things over with sarcasm. “Nervous? Who’s nervous? Frankly, it sounds like you’re just accusing me of being nervous because you’re nervous. Nice try, Avidan. Of course I’m ready. I’m cool, okay, I’m hip, I do this shit all the time. Let’s go rail a couple lines of coke after this.”

“Brian—”

“But not off of my body.”

“Brian, hey—”

“I know you want to, but this chest is just too hairy and manly, okay, it’s for your own good. We’re just going to have to kick it old school and do it off a questionably-clean bathroom counter.”

“No, hey, c’mon,” Danny says soothingly. “It’s okay that you’re nervous. It’s like you’re actually being honest for once.”

And Danny says it to make him feel better, Brian knows, and he wants to feel better, but for some reason it’s frustrating.

He wants to say, That’s not me—the fear, I’m not that, I’m just standing here behind it wishing I could kiss you.

Instead, he says, “I resent the implication that I’m not always one hundred percent genuine with you at all times.”

Danny snorts. “Yeah, okay, Captain Deflection.”

“Hey, don’t get all psychoanalytical on me. Which one of us has the PhD here?”

“You can’t use that as an excuse to pretend to be an expert on—oh my god, never mind, forget it, can we just do drugs now.”

“Just a minute; I have to update our Twitter. ‘About to suck down mass quantities of nitrous and also dick.’”

“No— No, give me your phone, dude!”

The scuffle for Brian’s phone ends with a balloon clinging to Danny’s hair via static electricity, Brian half buried under pillows and bedding, and the Twitter update reading About to suck mass quantities of dick, so Brian counts it as a win overall.

“You suck,” Danny informs him, reaching up to grab the balloon and pull it from his hair.

“Mass quantities of dick,” Brian reads from his phone agreeably, nodding. “The internet doesn’t lie, Danny.”

“I hate you.”

“Duly noted. Are we going to do drugs now, or do you want to keep putting them in your hair?”

“Don’t say drugs in that stupid voice, holy shit, you make it sound like we’re doing high-quality crystal meth.”

“And yet we’re doing cheap-ass inhalants, which, frankly, I find insulting. I’m not a cheap date, Daniel.”

Danny looks at him fondly. And that—that’s been happening a lot, the ‘Danny responding to flirting with anything other than exasperation or awkwardness’ thing. Brian’s not sure how to handle it. It’s easy to flirt with Danny until Danny stops taking it as a joke.

“Aw,” Danny coos, jumping into bed with Brian and bopping him with the balloon. “I’m sorry. You’re right, baby. Lemme buy you something nice.”

“I want a statue of a dick in my own likeness created with pure crystal meth,” Brian says dully, batting at Danny’s hands before he can get hit on the nose with the balloon again. Jesus, maybe he is Captain Deflection.

“We could probably make a song based on that,” Danny says thoughtfully, his eyes doing that middle-distance thing they do when he’s thinking of possible song titles.

His fingers are working at the knot of the balloon in his hands, and Brian’s gaze is drawn to them the way it always is when Danny’s fiddling with something, unable to keep from watching the pads of his lithe fingers brush against the rubber, his blunt nails tugging at the knot.

God, he wants those fingers in his mouth.

“Ninja Brian’s Crystal Dick!” Danny bursts out suddenly, triumphantly, and Brian startles, torn from his reverie.

He manages to laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll add it to the list.” Along with ‘Ninja Brian Regularly Thinks About Sucking on Danny Sexbang’s Fingers and That’s Not Something He Should Be Thinking About A Coworker, Probably.’

Danny finally manages to work the knot free, and his thumb and forefinger pinch the opening of the balloon closed. “Alright, you watch me first.”

Brian looks at him dubiously. “Right,” he says, “otherwise I might get confused and try to stick the balloon up my ass.”

Danny laughs and bops him with the balloon again. “So stupid,” he mutters. “Just watch, okay?”

Brian puts his hands up in surrender and slides back on the bed until he’s sitting with his back against the headboard. “Teach me, oh great Whippets Guru. Should I take notes? Do you have a PowerPoint?”

Danny’s already bringing the balloon to his mouth, fitting his lips tight over the opening. He flips Brian off with his free hand and then appears to let out the air in his lungs through his nose before he inhales deeply from the balloon. He pauses, then breathes back out into the balloon before inhaling again. He does this a couple more times, each breath getting more shallow, and then he pulls away, pinching the opening closed with shaky fingers as he holds his breath.

His face is flushed, and his eyes flutter closed.

Brian realizes he’s sitting silently, still, attention rapt. He swallows. “Danny?”

A few long seconds pass before Dan lets out the breath in a shuddery exhale. His first breaths of real air come in short, shaky gasps, and when he opens his eyes, they’re glazed over slightly, almost unseeing.

He looks—he looks like he’s waking up from a wet dream, or being tenderly asphyxiated, or coming, and either way Brian’s holding his breath and aware that he’s half-hard in his sweatpants.

Going commando feels, abruptly, like it had been a bad idea.

“Fuck,” Danny says, voice thin and breathy. His gaze lands on Brian as it clears, and he smiles dreamily, contently, the way you’d smile at a lover.

Brian is going to die.

“You okay?” he croaks out.

“God, yeah, I’m... I forgot how good that is.” He twists around a little where he’s sat and then reaches down to snag another balloon off the floor. “Your turn,” he says cheerfully, holding the balloon out to Brian.

“I mean, I—could just watch you again. That was—informative,” Brian says, stilted.

Danny laughs. “C’mon, dude. Time for baby bird to take flight.”

“Why are your metaphors so weird.”

“Just take the stupid balloon,” Danny commands, brandishing it half an inch from Brian’s nose until Brian snorts and takes it.

“Peer pressure turned me into a drug addict,” he intones, grinning when Dan swats at him. He fumbles with the knot of the balloon for a minute until he finally manages to free it up, and some of the gas escapes for a fraction of a second before he manages to pinch the opening shut.

“Don’t overdo it,” Danny says seriously. “You’re gonna get lightheaded, but stop when you feel like you need to. There’s nobody to impress here.” He pauses, smiles impishly. “‘Specially since I’m never impressed by you.”

Brian cheerfully gives him the bird and only hesitates for a second before he bows his head to take the opening into his mouth. He keeps his lips tight, not letting any of the gas escape until he’s ready, and then he follows Danny’s example as well as he can remember.

He lets his breath out through his nose slowly, like he’s doing the opposite of pre-show breathing exercises, and then he inhales.

The gas comes in quicker than he expects, and it takes a moment to figure out the right amount of tension to keep so he’s not overwhelmed.

It’s a bit anti-climactic, not that he really knows exactly what to expect—just like taking in air that doesn’t manage to satisfy the beginnings of a burn in his lungs, the ache for oxygen.

He looks at Danny, who gestures encouragingly.

The burn increases when he breathes in again, and then it happens abruptly, where he suddenly wants to gasp for breath, his brain sending signals that something’s not right, that he’s breathing but it’s not giving him any air.

A fuzzy sort of hum seems to shoot up from his chest into his head, the breathlessness blossoming into an intense head rush, all the small sounds of the hotel room going loud and reverberating, like he’s standing too close to a concert speaker taller than he is.

It turns into something all-encompassing, something more like a rushing tremble that goes straight back into his chest, into his heart.

Brian pulls away from the balloon to gasp desperately and shuts his eyes. Warmth buzzes into his fingertips, and he’s vaguely aware of his hands twitching minutely, and fractal patterns spread outward in a variety of mixing, spilling colors behind his eyes.

It’s almost overwhelming.

He realizes, belatedly, that he’s shaking, that it’s hard to catch his breath, that he’s opening his eyes and seeing without seeing, that when he finally focuses in on Danny that Danny is watching him with faint concern and fondness and—

“Brian,” Danny says. “Hey, Bri, look at me, you’re fine.”

And Brian does look at him, and it’s practically second nature to match the rhythm of Danny’s carefully controlled breathing.

And then—then Brian’s not entirely sure he’s not dreaming, because Danny leans in and cups a hand around the back of Brian’s neck and draws him in to kiss him slowly and deeply.

(Later, Brian will realize that Danny is probably working to coax Brian to match his breathing, to get him to stop hyperventilating and to enjoy the high, but for now—)

As Brian gasps for breath against Danny’s mouth, he’s relieved, somehow, that Danny has kissed him for the first time (truly kissed him, teeth and tongue and no applauding crowd to distract him from it) just after they’ve both inhaled nitrous—it gives him the excuse to be breathless, to be wide-eyed and slack-mouthed and staring at Danny like he's born technicolor in a grayscale universe.

Brian doesn’t want it to end, but eventually Danny breaks away, leaving Brian’s lips buzzing, the rush gradually cooling down. “So?” he asks, smiling at him fondly from where they’re touching foreheads and breathing hard. “What’s your consensus, cool guy?”

“Tubular,” Brian breathes out, dazed and grasping for Danny with weak hands.

Danny blinks once and then bursts into soft laughter, nose scrunching, eyes creasing up. Brian can’t really force himself to be insulted, not when Danny looks as incredible and addicting as he does. “Yeah,” Danny giggles, taking Brian’s hands in his own, pads of his thumbs rubbing at the backs of Brian’s hands like a worry stone, like a security blanket. “Yeah, it is.”

Brian’s pretty sure he’s in love.

“You kissed me,” he says stupidly.

Danny blinks at him. “Yeah,” he says, a small smile tugging at his mouth, like he’s amused. “Further bulletins as events warrant, Reporter Brian?”

Brian gestures vaguely in a way he hopes conveys what the fuck but probably just comes across like I have no fine motor control! “You kissed me,” is what his brain offers up, like a broken record.

Danny’s starting to look somewhat concerned. “Yeah,” he says again, slower. “I kissed you earlier tonight. And, like, last month.”

“Those don’t count,” Brian tells him, and he’s starting to get frustrated, because Danny knows this, of course he knows this, he has to know this.

Dan smiles again, but this time it’s confused. “What do you mean, those don’t count?”

“I mean—” Brian breaks off with an annoyed sound. “I mean they don’t count, Danny, what the hell— Those are just, they’re, you’re just...celebrating,” he says.

Danny’s frowning now. “Says who?”

“Says—” Brian breaks off again, brow knitting. He stares at Danny, trying to understand.It’s like a physics problem he’s stuck on—all the evidence is there, but he just can’t see the answer. “Says… I don’t know. You never make a big deal out of it. I just figured...”

“What was there to make a big deal out of?” Danny asks, looking bewildered. “I like you. I wanted to kiss you. You never make a big deal out of it, either. Figured you were cool with it.”

“I am cool with it,” Brian says hastily, mind working feverishly to catch up. “I am— I’m the coolest with it, I am ice cold with it, trust me, I have no complaints.” He pauses when he realizes Dan’s starting to laugh. “Alright, well, that’s not necessary, it was an easy mistake to make—”

“Shhh.”

Brian blinks. “Did you just shush me?” he demands, incredulous. “Did you just—”

“Shhh,” Danny hushes again, eyes still creased with amusement as he leans in.

He’s not expecting the warm press of Danny’s mouth against his own again.

A faint noise rises unbidden in him, and he hesitates, caught up in the fact that Danny is kissing him for the second time, hesitates because he’s not supposed to be so lucky, hesitates because he’s expecting to wake up.

He feels the wet heat of Danny’s tongue tease at his lower lip, and instinct kicks in: his mouth opens, and he tips his head to make the angle better, allow them both to press in closer. He’s breathless again soon in the best way, like he’s high again but better, because Danny’s nudging his legs apart and shifting into his lap and letting his hand slide from his jaw down to his neck, his collarbone, his chest.

He hears an embarrassing, protesting sound and staunchly refuses to believe it comes from his own mouth, except he’s definitely trying to pull Danny in again as he breaks away, and Danny’s definitely laughing at him again.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Danny says solemnly.

Brian stares. “What.”

“You know,” Danny stage-whispers, wide-eyed. “In your state. You’ve been doing drugs, Brian.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Brian says, and their next kiss is punctuated with Dan’s laughter.

He’s content to do this for hours, making out with (mostly) innocent roaming hands like necking teenagers; he’s so overwhelmed by just this, by his luck, that he’s not expecting more.

He nearly chokes when Danny slides a hand under the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Why am I surprised you’re not wearing any underwear,” Danny hums in between open-mouthed kisses along Brian’s jawline.

“That’s purely coincidence. Also, not that I’m complaining, but why is your hand—on my dick,” he strangles out suddenly when Danny’s hand shifts.

Danny pulls away to look at him. “Well, Brian,” he says, “sometimes, when two assholes love each other very much—”

“Shut up.”

“I mean, do you want me to draw you a diagram, or.”

“Shut up, I meant— I didn’t know you wanted more than…” He gestures.

Danny looks fondly amused. “Can we just set a blanket statement that I want to do conceivably everything with you?”

Brian has to admit that feels fucking incredible to hear.

Still: “Conceivably anything?”

Danny’s expression is wary. “Yes?”

“Raising alpacas in South America?”

“What.”

“Melting down twenty-thousand dollars worth of quarters to make life-sized metal busts of ourselves?”

“What is happening here.”

“Stealing those gay penguins from that zoo and smuggling them back to Antarctica.”

Danny kisses him again, presumably to shut him up, but it’s a kiss with fondness and intent and wandering hands with a destination—

And Brian can’t really find it in himself to complain.

[murasaki-murasame]

Danganronpa V3 Liveblog Part 2 [Chapter 1 - Daily Life]

Yeah I may as well put the rest of this under a read-more right from the start since I wanna get right into spoilers.

Just to jump right to the end of what I played because it’s the elephant in the room, I called Rantarou being the first death before the game even came out in Japan. But I think everyone did. It was really obvious that either he was going to survive for most/all of the game, or be killed off immediately to troll everyone because he’s set up as being so mysterious and presumably plot-important. I’m not really angry about it, but it’s just kinda funny that I called this nearly a year in advance. Thankfully the rest of the game should be less predictable than this, since this was the only real thing I confidently predicted back then. Also for the record I had no actual, genuine idea about this in advance, it was just a guess of mine.

It’s weird that in the demo version they had him [and Keebo] sit out of the trial, when he ended up not surviving long enough to take part in a trial in the main game.

Either way, it’s at least kinda amusing that he died immediately when he felt so similar to Komaeda. Obviously it’s still lame to see him die so soon, but at least his character played out differently to Komaeda.

[Also for the record I’m hoping that Kokichi saying ‘my dearest Rantarou’ was just him making an inappropriate joke, because hoo boy it was bad enough when DR3 ended with the Bury Your Gays trope. I’d be genuinely angry if this game STARTED with it. I’m pretty sure it’s just a joke, but it does remind me that Kokichi/Rantarou was actually a relatively popular crack ship in the fandom, at least back before the game came out in Japan]

I stopped playing directly when the investigation officially started [so technically I played a few minutes of the Deadly Life segment but that was because the game didn’t let me save for a while], so I can’t exactly speculate much about the case, and I don’t want to. I’ll save that for after I play the investigation, since I’ll actually have proper clues to work with then. I know that the investigation part will probably be a lot shorter than this part, but I want to take a break between it and the trial so that I get a chance to sit down and post some speculation before I go through the trial and figure out what happened. So my next post might be a bit short. Maybe. Knowing me, it probably won’t be.

Since I was scared this would happen, I tried to talk to him as much as possible, but I only managed to have one actual scene with him. I also had one with Shuichi. Now that Rantarou’s out the way, I guess Shuichi will be the person I prioritize most in free time events. Not sure who else I’d go with. I’m kinda curious about Keebo since his backstory seems interesting, but I dunno. I kinda want to see what Kokichi’s deal is, but part of me also feels like he’s probably gonna stick around for a long time so I’m less inclined to prioritize him. Maybe I should talk to Maki more, since she seems like the type who I’ll need to really get to know before I see more sides to them.

Overall, I was sorta surprised by how much I really liked this part. I mean, I’m a big fan of the series in general, but I’ve been a bit worried about whether or not I’d actually enjoy this game and it’s cast. Thankfully those fears are getting dissipated. I was also afraid that it’d feel too similar to the first two games, but there’s enough different things happening that it’s enjoyable.

One of the things that surprised me most was the motive. Or, well, motives. I did not expect the stakes to get so high that quickly. The whole idea of ‘the first murder will happen consequence-free’ is actually really interesting, and an effective way of motivating a murder. But it definitely makes Monokuma seem way more desperate than he used to be. Especially when, like a day after the first motive, he was like ‘oh and if nobody dies soon, you all die’. At that point he’s literally forcing people’s hands, more or less. Which isn’t a criticism, really. It’s an interesting approach to take. Especially since nobody ended up actually using that motive to kill. The whole part where nobody outed themselves as being Rantarou’s killer, and Monokuma announced that they’d hold a class trial in that case, was really intriguing. It’s really making it hard to guess at the culprit’s motive.

On a similar sort of note, I was not expecting the part where Ryoma suggested that somebody murder him so they could escape and find help. I thought at first that he’d just generally suggest the idea of someone going through with murdering someone, but I probably should have expected him to be all self-sacrificial, given his attitude. I said it last time, but I REALLY like Ryoma as a character thus far.

I said I wouldn’t speculate much about the murder, but lol I can’t help myself now that I’ve seen the body. I can only make vague judgments about it, though. Like how it seems pretty obvious that Rantarou wasn’t directly murdered by someone, but instead somebody probably set a metal ball on the bookcase so that it’d roll off and hit his head when it opened. Maybe that’s just my first guess because Kaede already brought up the idea of Rube Goldberg machines earlier in the chapter. It’d also explain how the murder will remain mysterious even with photographic evidence. There probably wasn’t anyone else in the room. I assume that Monokuma would still consider the identity of the hypothetical ball-placer to be the culprit, so then the big mystery is figuring out who did that, when there’s presumably no evidence. But then again the ball could have only, in this scenario, been placed on the bookcase after the equipment was set up, otherwise Shuichi would have noticed it at the time, or the alarm would have gone off. Unless he’s the killer, which I’m really doubting.

Ignoring the option of Shuichi being the killer, he and Kaede at least have alibis. I don’t know if anyone else would have. I’ve kinda forgotten if the equipment got placed early in the morning, or right before those two hid in the classroom, so I’m not sure what time frame to work with for this one, in terms of figuring out alibis.

I feel like the seven people who went to the game room are probably being set up as people who all have mutually-verified alibis, at least. Which leaves like seven other people.

Oh well, I won’t think about it too hard until I finish the investigation.

On the topic of Shuichi, I also really like him as a character. I liked him after the prologue, but learning a bit more of his story made me like him even more. He’s a really interesting take on a detective character. I’m glad he’s not just another Kirigiri. I can really get why he feels so uncomfortable about the idea of pursuing the truth, when he ended up exposing someone who did a revenge-killing for sympathetic reasons.

I also just really like his dynamic with Kaede. They’re just adorable and mutually supportive and I love it. I’m not gonna lie, I kinda low-key ship them already. I have low standards for this sorta thing, lol.

Kaede’s also pretty interesting as a protagonist, especially in terms of how people react to her. It was kinda sad seeing everyone [well, nearly everyone] hate her for being optimistic and leader-y and wanting everyone to keep trying to escape. Considering how it’s already giving her confidence issues, I wonder if that’ll be an ongoing thing, with most of the cast not wanting to be bossed around by her. I couldn’t really blame them after how the Death Road of Despair part went, but they still took it too far.

Also on that note, fuck the Death Road of Despair. That was so awful to experience. Considering how the story played out, I imagine that the game was genuinely rigged against you, and it sure as hell felt like it. I hope that if this game ever shows up again in a less evil context, the controls aren’t so weirdly floaty and hard to control. I kinda wish I could have recorded the way my reaction to it went from ‘oh this sounds simple, just run and rump’ to ‘wait the fuck why is everyone dead’ in ten seconds.

Anyway, I’m really enjoying seeing more of the characters, and seeing them start to form their own dynamics and stuff. It’s only just starting, but it’s already interesting to watch unfold. I’m especially surprised by how Tenko pretty much immediately got a crush on Himiko and is now just following her around and acting so excited about the idea of magic. It’s really endearing me to her.

This part also continued to reaffirm my love for Gonta. He’s an incredibly sweet boy who doesn’t deserve the death that he’s presumably going to experience. He tries his best.

I’m happy that Kaito is at least trying to be on Kaede’s side. He’s a good dude thus far.

Conversely, I probably should have expected that Maki would be rude and unsociable. I’ll probably still try and spend free time with her and get to know her, though. It makes me feel like there’s something really interesting under her cold exterior that I’d never get to see if I just avoided her.

Angie’s kinda starting to creep me out, which I wasn’t expecting. Like, the blood sacrifice joke was one thing, but now she’s talking about happily accepting imminent death because Atua will welcome her into his kingdom, or Atua punishing liars, and stuff. But then again she also unironically says bye-onara and that makes me really like her.

I guess I may as well comment on Rantarou’s character in general, since this might be my last time to. I wish I could have gotten to know him better, but the one event I had with him didn’t tell me much. I’m still not sure what to make of him. He’s also kinda creepy, but I still like him. I’m not gonna deny that most of my bias toward him is still because I love [most of] his design, though. I wonder if we’ll ever learn what his talent was, since that’s still a mystery. Maybe it’ll be a plot point during the trial. I’m also curious about the fact that he seemed to have some memories related to the Ultimate Hunt, which is still suspicious to me in general as a concept. I really can’t help but feel like this game is set in some future post-DR3 where the rest of society decided to criminalize talent or something. Or they had a grudge against the whole Ultimate Initiative, and Hope’s Peak Academy, and thus they decided to hunt down everyone related to it, or something. Who knows.

I’m really surprised by the fact that none of the characters have said anything about the implication of them being criminals, with how they’re in an academy for Gifted Juveniles. You’d think that’d raise some questions from them.

Also, I wonder if everyone’s labs are going to be actual places we can at least see on the map. I think thus far we can only see Kaede’s and Miu’s rooms. Maybe the rest will open up as time goes on. On the note of their labs, I should check and see if I can go to Kaede’s one now. I kinda forgot to check it out. I think I tried to check once but the plot was railroading me elsewhere and I forgot about it after that.

Oh, and before I forget, I didn’t miss that one line from one of the Monokubs where they were obviously teasing at what’s going on in the big picture, but basically blotting out the important info. I can’t quite remember exactly what he said, though, but I remember it seeming immediately important.

And also, on the note of Monokuma, that one Monokuma Theater joking about the idea of getting confused about what happened and in what part of a long-running franchise really felt like a self-deprecating joke about how long this series has gotten. [Also the Yokai Watch reference was pretty hilarious]

I guess that’s all I have to say for now. I’ll probably just play the investigation part tomorrow, even if it might be kinda short, and then I’ll do the trial the day after. I don’t really have any predictions about who the killer is, other than that Shuichi seems really damn suspicious right about now.