#(they liked my samples despite them being old work so i definitely have that part down- now it's just seeing if the schedules align)

[welcometogrouchland]

mm. Fear

[littlemisssquiggles]

Alright… so in today's episode of Squiggles Talks more about Kamen Rider Gavv, I can’t be the only one who’s starting to get the feeling that Shouma may be somehow connected to the death of Hanto’s mom, right?

I say somehow because there is one major detail that makes the whole hunch not work and that is the age difference between Hanto and Shouma.

For me, I’m going under the presumption that Shouma is meant to be a few years younger than Hanto.

Given the fact that today’s episode revealed that Hanto’s mom’s attack happened 20 years ago, my hunch is this:

Seeing that all Granutes have a true form, including that of the Stomach Family, what if…it’s the same for Shouma despite him being a half-breed.

What if… Shouma secretly has his own full Granute form and his signature red Gavv was also created as a means of suppressing said form because Shouma can’t control his Granute side?

Assuming that all Stomach Family members were indoctrinated into the family business from a young age, what if… in the past, as a way to prove his worth to the Stomach Family, Shouma was made a part-timer against his will, forced to go to the human world to collect samples.

Similar to how we’re seeing random Granutes being hawled off the streets to be surgically modified and sent out as a pawns of Stomach Inc, imagine if that’s what happened to a very young Shouma.

What if…before he was given the Red Gavv, Shouma underwent another experiment that was meant to surpress his “weaker” human side and bring out his Granute side. In this unstable state, Shouma was sent to the human world but the experiment was a failure because Shouma lost control and ended up attacking and killing a human as opposed to simply collecting them as a sample as he was supposed to. And that human turned out to be Hanto’s mother.

This could explain why he has repressed memories triggered by the photo of Hanto’s mother. She was his first (and only) victim.

And perhaps it was because of this unfortunate mishap why Shouma was later operated on by his “granduncle” who fitted him with the red Gavv. But in undergoing this new surgery, Shouma lost all memory of his first time as a part-timer and a full Granute.

I can see this theory working since why else would Shouma be triggered by Hanto’s mom’s picture if he didn’t have a connection to her death? It has to be that, right?

Then again, I can think of one reason why this idea wouldn’t work and that has to do with the age difference between our main two riders. This theory only works if Shouma is meant to be older than Hanto. But…is he older though?

Personally, I always pegged Shouma to be younger than Hanto. But that could just be because physically, Shouma has such a natural baby face and child-like naivety about everything that it makes him seem younger than everyone else around him when in actuality, he’s probably old as balls.

Plus, Hanto does refer to Shouma as his “senpai” but that has more to do with the fact that Gavv has more experience than Valen when it comes to being a Kamen Rider and fighting the Granutes.

Hooooooooooooweeeeevvvvvvverrrr.....

Given the fact that Granutes can appear to look ANY age in human form, who’s to even say that Granutes even age the same as humans do. For all I know, a preteen Granute could have the strength of a full grown human in their prime.

I dunno. Some of this stuff just isn’t adding up. I need more details from the show to either support or fully debunk my theory.

For the time being, I’ll still hold onto it because one things’s for certain is that Shouma is definitely connected to Hanto’s mom’s death.

It would be absolutely tragic if it was later revealed down the line to Hanto that not only was Shouma, his senpai, fellow Rider in arms and even his friend, was not just a Granute, but the very same Granute that killed his mom. Add that on top of the fact that it’s Shouma’s own “family” who  have been kidnapping and killing humans for years.

If that doesn’t sound like the perfect recipe for some angst and feels then I dunno what is.

That would be just…insane if it were true.

But for now, it’s just a hunch. As always, I'm looking forward to next week's episode to see what the Gavv story has in store for us.

(On that note, CaKING looks f**KING badass! Looking forward to his debut next week).

~LMS (2024)

[timeoverload]

I didn't feel good when I woke up as usual. I'm just sore and I felt really sad earlier. I don't want to spend most of the weekend in the house again.

I got up and went to the doctor even though I really didn't want to. It went ok for the most part. I think I like my new provider more than the other lady I was seeing. She seemed to be more thorough and more empathetic. She felt my ribs and they are definitely tender on the left side but she didn't think there was anything seriously wrong with them. My lungs sound fine. She just told me to let her know if I have any more problems. My vitals were good and she thinks I'm healthy. I had to get blood drawn and the nurse was having a hard time with that. Normally I have no problem giving a blood sample but I think I'm dehydrated. I'm nervous about the results but I won't find out until Monday. I will try not to worry about it. I am back down to 106lbs. so I'm frustrated about that. I talked to her about my problem with soda and she wasn't really concerned about it. She just told me to drink lots of water and I do most of the time. She also didn't give me a lecture about vaping because she knows that doesn't do any good. She knows I'm not proud of that and she is understanding. She said that she can help whenever I decide to quit but she wasn't pushy. I have to get a couple vaccinations next time I go so that will be fun. My mom didn't believe in the cervical cancer vaccine so she didn't let me get one when I was a teenager so I'm going to have that done. I thought I was too old for that but I still have 16 years. I might have to pay for it out of pocket because insurance might not cover it but it's ok. I also am about due for a tetanus shot so I am going to get that taken care of too. I still have 2 years but I would rather get it early since I work with a lot of metal. I told her I don't want to increase my medication because I know that's not going to solve any of the issues that I'm having at this point. I think I'm pretty stable, despite the circumstances I'm currently in. I don't have to go back until December unless I have more problems before then.

I didn't want to go straight home after I got done at the doctor so I went for a drive. I drove through our old neighborhood again. I don't know why I bother doing that because it makes me cry. It is just very pretty out there in the summer. I don't think I will do that for a while because I don't like getting emotional about it. I think crying helped me feel a little better though.

I don't know what I'm going to do with the rest of my day. I want to take a nap but I don't want to sleep all day either. I went to bed at 9:30 last night. It was nice to get off work early but I was too tired to enjoy my time much. I guess I'm going to find something to do now. I don't really feel like being on tumblr at the moment. Hopefully I can make it a good weekend.

I hope everyone else has a good weekend too. 💖💖💖

[ticketstomydaydreams]

5:3666

(All We Have: Part Two)

Part One

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson fall into a night time studio routine when he starts keeping you company through your insomnia and you decide to work though some past demons

Word count: 3,200 (ish, I lost count editing)

Feels: Fluff with a dash of past trauma

Warnings: Drug & alcohol consumption, domestic violence, cursing, Colson being so sweet it almost makes your teeth hurt

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - 5:3666

Warren Zevon - I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

The Vamps - All Night

Halsey - You Should Be Sad

A/N: If you've been affected by anything in this story, please know you're not alone. My inbox is always open and I'm all ears 🖤

______

During the first couple of weeks of moving in, you’d been partying A LOT. The guys wanted to show you just how mad it got, breaking you into their chaotic household, blending the days together. Everyone was hyper and the house was buzzing with energy. You'd been so exhausted from all of it that you'd been all but passing out each night, but you couldn’t lie, it was great fun.

You’d tried to pass on a few nights but Colson would never hear of it, often forcing you out of your room to get involved as the house was filled with people, jam sessions taking place in between drinking games. It was a far cry from your usual homelife, your last housemate mainly kept to themselves so your place was normally pretty chilled. Colson had used your place as a quiet escape over the years, but it seemed you wouldn’t have the same set up extended to you here with this lot.

With the pandemic unfolding, the house had started getting quieter, less people in and out every night and everyone was settling into a lazier way of life. The gang were mooching around the house throughout the day and while the house was still lively at night, it wasn’t quite the party central you’d almost started getting used to. Your normal working routine went out the window as everyone had started working from home mainly and without your daily routine, followed by nights out partying, your insomnia was back with full force.

______

You were lying in your bed, trying to force sleep on yourself but after trying to nod off for a couple of hours, you accepted defeat and got back up. Throwing some sweats on and one of Colson’s huge hoodies (you’d been slowly sneaking them out of his closet, finding that the masses of material drowning your small frame were super comforting), you headed down to the kitchen, turned the stove on and filled the kettle up. You were scrolling through your phone when you heard footsteps on the tiled floor. Colson strolled into the kitchen looking disheveled in a white tank top and boxer shorts, hair ruffled and looking sleepy

“Dude, it’s 3am how come you’re up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, living that oh so fun insomnia life again” you sighed “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, I was already awake. Couldn’t sleep either and heard someone moving about so thought I’d come down” He replied, climbing onto one of the breakfast stools

“Yeah, I think it’s not having much of a routine. Hate lying in bed staring at the ceiling so just got up. You want a cup?” you offered, pointing to the chamomile tea you were brewing

“Sure, thanks” he says, taking the steaming mug from you

You sit down at the breakfast bar with him and start chatting, scrolling through instagram as you do. After about an hour, as you’re talking about an article you’re reading, you notice Colson doesn’t respond and you look to your right and see he’s fallen asleep, leaning on his hand, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” you whisper, rubbing his back with your hand “Go to bed”

He slightly jolts at your touch, opening his eyes “Nah man, I’m keeping you company”

“Some company” you laugh softly “pretty sure you just slept through all my rambling there”

He leans against your shoulder, closing his eyes again “Hey, at least you’re not sitting here alone. That’s something right?”

“That’s true” you smile, leaning your head against his “You’re very appreciated, do you know that”

You gently push him upright and stand up “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m pretty tired myself, so you’ve definitely helped”

He’s laid his head down on his arm on the counter, his breathing getting heavy immediately so you pull his other hand making him stand up. He stands up and puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs, your legs feeling heavy as you climb each step, carrying some of Colson’s weight as he sleepily walks with you

Once you’re standing outside your bedroom doors, he pulls you in for a hug

“Night kid, don’t be wandering around bored if you can’t sleep yeah? Just come get me. Nothing worse than sitting up alone at night…”

“Will do. Thanks Col” You squeeze him a bit tighter as he kisses the top of your head

“Night” you smile, as he let’s you go and turns and heads into his room, waving his hand up behind him

Undressing and crawling into bed, your eyes feel heavy as your head hits the pillow. Colson was right, insomnia was a much less lonely experience with a friend.

______

Of course, as is always the way after your sleepless nights, you sleep in super late the following day meaning the cycle continues and you find yourself wide awake as the witching hour approaches. Feeling restless in your bedroom, you get up, and decide to head downstairs and out into the studio because you figure you might as well put this time to good use. You settle into a chair with your acoustic guitar and started playing, stopping and starting as you figure out a melody, working your latest lyrics in with it

“I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest. Got no anger, got no malice…”

“I thought I told you to come get me if you couldn’t sleep”

You almost drop your guitar as you hear Colson’s voice behind you, “Jesus, how are you such an enormous human but you still manage to creep up on me all the time?”

“Just a stealthy motherfucker I guess” He laughs, flopping into the chair next to you

“Whatcha working on? That sounded sweet, keep playing…”

Colson knows you sometimes get a bit self-conscious with people watching you sing, so he lights his joint, rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes. You smile as you see what he's doing, thankful he always understands what you're like.

You turn back to your notepad, reading over your lyric outline quickly before repositioning the guitar in your lap and resetting the metronome

___

‘I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest

Got no anger, got no malice, Just a little bit of regret

No, nobody else will tell you, so there's some things I gotta say

Gonna jot it down and then get it out and then I'll be on my way

No, you're not half the man you think that you are

And you can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs, and cars

I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you

'Cause you can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you

Oh, I feel so sorry, I feel so sad

I tried to help you, it just made you mad

And I had no warning about who you are

I'm just glad I made it out without breaking down

And then ran so fuckin' far, that you would never ever touch me again

Won't see your alligator tears

'Cause, no, I've had enough of them’

___

“Man, that was beautiful Y/N. I got some chills right there…You just wrote that?”

“Nah, it’s something I dug up from ‘back then’. Been going through some old lyrics and samples while we’ve got all this time on our hands. It’s kinda cathartic to go over some of that stuff now there’s a bit more distance you know”

______

A couple of years ago, you’d been stuck in a really toxic relationship with your ex, Stevie. Your time with him had been a tornado of arguments, drugs and the constant heartache of him cheating on you. Every time you’d get close to having the strength to leave, you’d always cave in and the mess would continue with you losing a bit of yourself each time you stayed. You’d become pretty used to his violent outbursts, he had always been controlling and short tempered, often pushing you and throwing stuff around your apartment. Despite his own frequent infidelity, he flew into a jealous rage with you constantly.

He’d always hated Colson, despite him being one of your best friends, and while he’d play nice to his face you’d always get it in the neck once you were alone about how you and Colson were ‘too close’ and he ‘didn’t trust him’. Before that final night you’d spent with him, things had been pretty good with the two of you for a few weeks, there hadn’t been much drama and so you hadn’t thought too much of inviting him out with you and the gang for a night out clubbing. Your good run had clearly come to an end, when you felt his hand grab your arm tightly and drag you off the dancefloor where you’d been dancing with Colson. You’d been bundled into an uber so quickly, you hadn’t even managed to get your handbag from inside. You saw Colson running out of the club, followed by Rook and Slim who was holding your bag, as the cab pulled away.

Once you were back at the apartment, he flew into a rage. You’d never seen him this bad before, his eyes were dark and when you tried to argue back, calling his jealousy ‘pathetic’ he snapped. He’d grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall, “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again” he’d spat in your face, before striking you so hard with his fist that the skin across your cheek split open. It was as if his actions had knocked him back to reality, he’d let go of you and you ran to your bedroom, locked the door behind you and started packing a bag. He hammered on the door, begging you to open it and you could hear that he was crying. You looked around for your phone before you remembered you’d left it at the club. Desperate to get away, you opened your laptop and brought up instagram, managing to send Colson a message asking him to send you an uber to his house straight away. You’d thrown your laptop and a few more bits in your bag, the battery dying before you had a chance to wait for a reply, before pulling the bedroom door open and barging past Stevie. He’d tried to grab you, but you’d finally had enough “Never fucking touch me again” you spat, pushing him off you. The hatred in your voice rooted him to the spot and he said nothing as you walked out, the door slamming behind you.

Once you were outside the apartment building, the reality of what had just happened and the situation you were in started to wash over you. You had no phone, no wallet, your laptop was dead. Just as you were starting to seriously panic, an uber pulled up and Colson had leapt out of the backseat. You’d been in total shock and had just let Colson guide you into the cab and then out into his house, up to his room. He didn’t say anything as he led you to his bathroom and lifted you up onto the counter. He grabbed a flannel and soaked it with warm water, rinsing it out before pressing it softly against the cut on your cheek, gently wiping away the blood that had mixed with your mascara laced tears. The tenderness of his actions was almost too much and you started to sob again.

“Hey, hey. Y/N, look at me” he said softly, lifting your chin so you looked at him, his blue eyes misty themselves “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Don’t move, I’ll be back in a sec”

He left the bathroom and returned with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Putting them on the counter next to you, he crouched down and undid the straps on your heels, slipping them off your feet and then helping you down from the counter. “I’ll leave you to change”

When you came out of the bathroom, Colson was lying in his bed “Come here” he said, holding his arm and beckoning into his side. You crawled under the covers next to him and snuggled into him, his long arms wrapping around you.

“Col…” you said quietly

“Yeah?” he whispered back, stroking your hair off your forehead

“Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve always got you Y/N”

______

“I hated that fucking guy. That night...I wanted to kill him after what he’d done to you”

You see him tense up at the memory and you lean over and squeeze his knee “You’re such an amazing friend, do you know that. I don’t know what I would’ve done that night without you”

"You're a fucking warrior Y/N, you'd have handled your shit. I was just happy you trusted me enough to let me be there for you. You deserve so much better than that" he says, covering the hand you'd placed on his knee with his, staring you in the eyes and returning the smile that's crept across your face

"You know there's been a few punches I've wanted to dole out on behalf of you over the years, but you've never let me" you tell him

"Too right I'd never let you. I never want you in the drama, you're too good for getting caught up in that shit" he replies, pointing at you with mock sternness

"Hey" he says, seeing your expression wash over with a tint of sadness "At least the sleepless nights aren't what they were then…

… If we're gonna work through some old demons this lockdown, I'm sure I've got some songs and lyrics that have never seen the light of day" He reaches over the desk and pulls his laptop towards him "You've inspired me… "

"Oh no, are we gonna fuck our heads up with this?" you joke nervously, worrying that Colson's going to delve into something that's going to upset him

"Nah, I got you covered and you got me, right?"

"True dat" you say, as he holds his fist out so you can fistbump, his eyes now focused on his laptop screen

______

You felt kinda bad, having kept Colson up all night with you the last two nights, especially as you'd got him reminiscing about some tough memories, so tonight you tried to sneak past his room when your restlessness got the better of you.

"Nice try kid!" Colson says as he throws his bedroom door open, causing you to yelp in fright. standing there topless with his sweatpants hung low in his hips, he lights the joint hanging from his mouth "I told you we were in this together now"

"I felt bad, making you stay up with me"

"You didn't make me do shit…Wait a sec, let me find a hoodie. If I have any left in here…" he says, giving a pointed look towards the huge blue hoodie you were wrapped in before walking back into his room and rummaging through his drawers

"Oh shush, you have like a hundred…"

"Right come on" he says, pulling a pink hoodie over his head and flipping the hood up over his messy hair "Let's see what we get into tonight…"

______

And so the nights went on like this, the two of you falling into an easygoing studio routine. If there wasn't anything else going on in the house, you'd eat dinner together then head to the studio and work through the night into the small hours, skipping out the pretense of trying to sleep. You were both pretty productive at this time it seemed, both being proclaimed night owls, and keeping busy during these uncertain times was keeping your minds off the unfolding pandemic.

Considering he’d referred to his home studio in the past as the ‘rage cage’ (and it certainly could still be party central when the entire crew got involved), it was actually a place you drifted towards to relax these days. You’d always worked well together in a studio, but over the weeks spending so much time just the two of you, you became more in tune with each other, noticing when one of you had hit a wall and it was time for bed. Sometimes you'd work in comfortable silence, side by side, engrossed in your own seperate tasks. Sometimes barely any work would get done as you put the world to rights talking about anything and everything in a late night impromptu therapy session.

This evening, you'd been sitting cross legged in your chair for hours now, focusing so hard on editing a song which was driving you mad, you hadn't realised your feet had gone numb. As you try to move, your knees crack and pins and needles shoot through your legs. Colson looks up from the screen he'd been engrossed in after hearing you groan and sees you rubbing your feet trying to bring back the feeling to them

‘C’mere’ he said, before turning his chair towards you and leaning down to grab your legs, bringing your feet up onto his lap. He pulls your socks off and begins massaging your feet. You lean your head back, eyes closed and let out a long ‘hmmm’. You don’t see Colson glancing over at you and shifting in his seat as he lets out slow breath before turning back to his screen

“Now this is the kind of work session I could get used to”, you sighed "You being my studio bitch on hand for foot rubs. Although, I imagine this enjoyment goes both ways Mr Foot Lover” you tease, throwing him an exaggerated wink

Colson throws his head back with a hearty chuckle, and light heartedly slaps your calf

"Keep it in your pants Y/N"

You laugh and wiggle your toes, Colson letting out a dramatic, throaty groan in response. "Those are some sexy little toes though" he states, sticking his tongue out.

Still laughing, you put your hand to your chest, and gasp as you feign prudishness and try to pull your feet away. He grabs both your feet in one of his hands, keeping them in place then leans over the desk and pulls your laptop towards you

"Get on with some work you, this is supposed to be keeping you motivated, not distracted"

He scolds affectionately, with a smile on his face

“Okay, okay, spoilsport” you grumble as you pull your computer onto your lap

Half an hour passes, your legs still on Colson’s lap with him still massaging your feet absentmindedly with one hand while he works, and your eyes begin to feel heavy. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep, until you’re awoken by a “woah” from Colson as he catches your laptop which is about to fall. Taking it from your lap, he states “Right, time for bed you”

You check your phone and see it’s already 5:36am.

You stand up and stretch then walk over behind Colson, putting your arms around his shoulders, and resting your chin on his head. Looking at his screen, you yawn “You got much left to do?”

He leans back into you, bringing his hand up to rest on your arm, “Making some good progress so just gonna finish a couple of bits”

“Okay dude” you gently kiss the top of his head and squeeze the back of his neck a couple of times as you turn to leave “Try and get some rest, we’ve got a long day of sweet fuck all to do tomorrow” you say through another big yawn

“Heh yeah, Night Kid” he says softly, letting out a yawn himself. Colson turns and watches you head out of the studio and lets out a big sigh. Feeling the back of his neck still tingle from where you’d squeezed it, he’s suddenly aware of how empty the room feels without you in it....

______

Taglist: @triplexdoublex @thisshitisfuckingdifficult @brightblaqkkheaven

Lace Up! ❌❌

[sugar-quilled]

ron weasley x reader

request

a/n: i slipped from the topic a little bit, pretty sure what i wrote isn't teasing, and if you'd like me to change it just tell me :)

summary: While visiting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron's clothes get sucked into a machine. All of them, except for his boxers.

genre: comedy and (im not sure if this counts as fluff but) fluff

word count: 1.6k

pronouns: not used

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

Diagon Alley was packed, as it always was at the start of a term. Underneath a beautifully clear sky, students were seen hurrying to purchase potion ingredients and new robes. Those that had already purchased the items on their Hogwarts list were seen crowding around a new and extremely flashy building.

The store front was painted in a shocking orange color, with a large figure standing inside a window and tipping his top hat to the surrounding crowd below. In neat, gold printing, the store was identified to be none other than Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

You entered through the door amongst other eager shoppers, and immediately heard a circus-like music, coupled with the chatter of about 50 people.

Shelves on shelves of brightly colored goods and at least 4 oddly built staircases met your eyes. Immediately to your left was a brightly colored display of candy. Your walked closer, and Fred and George Weasley popped out from a counter nearby.

"Taking a look at those nosebleed nougats are you, Y/N?"

"We've got samples over here if you like-"

"Just eat the red and you'll see the red!"

"And one bite of the other side will stop it just like that."

"And fever fudge!"

"There's only a bit of those puking pastilles left, clearly we're due for a restock, Fred."

"Well, Y/N, welcome to our shop and go enjoy yourself! Call us if you need any help and we'll be right by your side in a jiffy. Now come on, George, one kid over there looks mightily suspicious."

You smiled after the twins' backs, not even angry that they hadn't let you get a word in, when you spotted Ron Weasley taking a look at Headless Hats—now on sale for 1 galleon and 8 sickles! Your previous conversation (could you even call it a conversation?) with the twins immediately left your brain and you made your way over.

Ron had been a long time crush of yours. In fact, the two year anniversary of your feelings was yesterday, and you celebrated by having a whole-hearted sobbing fest while your friends stared awkwardly at each other and tried to console you. Not that your friendship wasn't something to be happy about, but Merlin you just wished you could hold his hand. Romantically. You didn't think Ron could ever like you, what with his being best friends with Hermione Granger who was both insanely smart and jaw-droppingly gorgeous.

"Ron! It's nice to see you!"

He immediately swung around and burst into a very toothy grin. "Y/N! It's nice to see you too! What's up?"

You smiled back. "Nothing much! Your brothers' shop is gorgeous! The, uhh, those nosebleed nougats are really fascinating. And you? How was your summer?"

Ron put a headless hat down and strode closer to you to check out a row of punching telescopes. "Quite uneventful, to be honest. But yeah this stuff they came up with? Have you seen the smart-answer quills? Blimey I'd never have to ask Hermione for help again! And those fainting fancies. Reckon Snape'll believe one of those?"

You laughed. "Are you planning to faint during a lecture? It's our N.E.W.T year, you'll need all the information you can get."

Just then, Fred and George appeared right behind you.

"Having a good conversation, Ron?" Fred said cheerfully, elbowing Ron in the ribs—"Ow, Fred leave us alone!"—"Do you two want to check out the back?"

"Just don't steal anything, Y/N," George winked.

"Unless that something is Ron's heart," Fred muttered. Or you thought he muttered. But the twins' expressions had been wiped blank so that you couldn't tell whether Fred had really said it, and Ron had busied himself in untangling two extendable ears, so whether he had blushed or hadn't, you also couldn't tell.

"Lead the way, George!" Fred chortled, and swept away.

"Alright then. Right this way, you two!"

George led you and Ron, whose mouth seemed to be clamped shut, weaving past shelves higher than you to a door at the very back of the store. A small plaque on the door said: "Weasleys Working: In Progress." He twisted open the door, and beckoned both of you in. Right in front of you was a huge lab and packaging station. You could see potions brewing to your right, and to your left, there were two witches packaging a box of puking pastilles.

"So," George started, "welcome to our work station! Y/N, you might have seen a big gray thing over there upon entrance." He pointed. You looked. "That is actually something we've just installed in and its a bit of muggle machinery. Michelle and Rosalyn over there," he nodded towards the two witches, "used to have to do all the wand work manually but this big old thing makes some parts automatic. Quite useful!"

You stared at the big metal machine. There was a sort of chute at one end, and a big pipe leading up and into the ceiling.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it, and Michelle and Rosalyn," he called, "would you mind helping me out in the main area? Fred's left to check on the upstairs, and there's too many people waiting in line for purchasing." George gave Ron a ginormous wink, and left the room. The door swung back and clicked to a close.

You walked over to the muggle machine, very aware of Ron trailing behind you.

"Blimey, that thing's big. What does it even do?"

"I don't know, it looks like something that deposits goods into this bin under it. I'm not really sure where the goods come from though."

Ron circled the massive thing twice, and the second time, he tripped over a wire. Thankfully, he managed to stand himself upright with one hand leaning on the machine.

You laughed at him, and he looked embarrassedly back with a forced chuckle.

Then there was a loud whirring noise, and as Ron turned around in fright, the thing began sucking.

You were wrong. It didn't deposit things. It took them to be deposited.

With a frantic yell and many grabs at a nearby table, Ron's clothes ripped off. The machine sent them rattling through the chute and the whirring noise came to a stop.

Well. Not all of his clothes.

Ron was left standing in a pair of heart adorned boxers. Red hearts.

He tried his best to cover himself, but seeing as he only had two hands and more than two things on display, it was quite difficult.

You realized that you were staring and quickly looked away.

Ron was carefully looking at anywhere but your face.

After quite a long time's silence, your croaked out, "nice boxers, uh... dude," while looking at the ceiling. A giggle escaped despite your attempts at keeping it in, and you were sure Ron's face now matched the color of his hair.

"If you tell this to Gred- I mean, Fred or Gor- George, I'll-" he started shakily, "I'll die."

Seeing as he wasn't threatening you and assuming this meant friendly conversation could be engaged, you stammered, "they really suit you. You know, the red and all. Although I'd suggest a green pair next time. Because of the color wheel and those two are compl-"

Ron had burst into shaky, suppressed laughter.

"Never- never mind my fashion choices, how the bloody hell am I supposed to get my clothes back?"

"Well I don't see why you want them back. I mean think of the ladies you'd get by walking down the street with this lovely attire. Maybe for accessories you can add a bit more red by eating a nosebleed nougat, I'm sure I saw a few when I entered."

Both of you were laughing now, but a yell of shock from upstairs made both of you jolt.

"Oh no, no, no," Ron muttered, darting his eyes around as if trying to find a hiding spot, "Fred's upstairs, he knows what I was wearing, oh no, no-"

The door swung open. Fred was standing in the doorway looking highly amused.

"Ron, I thought you said you'd never wear those! Aunty Muriel will be pleased her present wasn't a waste of money!" Fred exclaimed, striding into the room and circling Ron, who was shaking fiercely. "They do compliment your hair, maybe I'll have to borrow the pair one day."

You choked back a laugh, bursting a vein for sure, when Fred rounded on you.

"I didn't know you two were already on this level of your relationship. Looks like Ron here neglected to tell me some bits!" Fred said cheerfully, waving his wand so that Ron looked perfectly normal again, except that his entire face was now the same color as the hearts on the boxers underneath the normality.

"Well I daresay you two have looked around, I was up there nearly 10 minutes," Fred continued, gesturing towards the door, "and Y/N, regrettably we have no products that erase recent memories-"

"Shut up," Ron muttered, walking towards the door.

"-but the idea is certainly a brilliant one and I'll be sure to start developing it." Fred gave a hearty wink as both Ron and you had exited the room, and closed the door.

You looked at Ron. He looked back.

"Well you know I never said I wanted to erase that memory. You did look quite marvelous."

Ron laughed, though his face still looked like he supported the UK Quidditch team.

"You should really take my suggestion of that green pair, and I wouldn't mind seeing how that looks either."

Both of you doubled over in laughter.

"And," you choked, "a pair of shoes to match wouldn't hurt either, though I daresay you'd rather go barefoot? Shoes shouldn't be worn to bed, after all."

There were definitely tears coming out your eyes now, and the two of you stumbled drunkily, still shaking with laughter, out the shop and down the ever so full streets of Diagon Alley.

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

🚨Thurs 17 Dec ‘20🚨

No one will argue, this year has been the worst and I'm not really into that whole 'silver linings to bad things' bit, but... BUT! If the demise of live shows and rise of livestreams meant Zayn deciding to perform for us?! Well. I would be willing to reconsider my whole ass philosophy on life! Unfortunately, despite the excitement (or was it hysteria?) he inspired last night by getting all our hopes up, it might just be a music video? We'll see though. He definitely did register a new song, UNFXWITABLE (!), and then, and THEN: slid a single photo into his instagram story, a truly beautiful old baroque theater stage, fitted with live show speakers and a tantalizingly closed red curtain. The stage lights are on, the seats are empty... prepping for zomething?? It was discovered to be the St George Theater in Staten Island, very exciting, but today more video of them working on whatever they're working on surfaced (a snippet at the theater with a bit of an unknown song audible) that makes it seem more likely they're working on a music video than a livestream set up. Still, we can DREAM. At the very least we're getting a new song any minute now and at best-- Z3 and a video AND a liveztream?? (or prerecorded, that's FINE.) The pap pics the other day were him leaving a menswear boutique (sorry I said home, my bad, it was the usual 'front door to car' walk though) leading to speculation he was getting fitted for zomething zpecial... maybe we'll get to see it soon!

Likely on account of the added European show tickets going on sale today, Louis came online to check in, and also to laugh at old videos of himself, send larries into a tailspin, and best of all, weigh in on and shut down discourse left and right THANK YOU SIR! Louis is happy to walk us all through how not to get Live In London video taken down (“do it on a burner account haha?” tips from the master truly, no one would know better so listen to him); he denies having such an account himself (“maybe I should”) though unlike Liam (see below) HE doesn't go that extra step into obvious lie territory and say he's NEVER had one. On how he deals with comments about his height (which are up again these last few days due to a video circulating that uses math to conclude once again that he is in fact, as documented, 5'9”), “I rise above them,” he zings back, and in appreciation of someone who actually got the joke, “you're on my level,” DOUBLE PUNNING, BOOM but that's not all: he finishes off with the comment that finished ME off, “such a peculiar debate.��� REALLY. Peculiar specifically, not like strange or weird or annoying you just... went right in for the Eroda copyrighted word huh. OKAY. Also: no, probably no collabs on LT2 (“doubt it”), yes he loves twitter “in doses, no better way to talk to you lot” (you mean even better than via t shirts?? sounds fake but okay), tells us he is “100% for sure” is gonna get the vaccine, and that “cucumber is shit” which isn't really a discourse we needed him to solve that I knew of but like, okay! Sorted! Antis seethed about him talking to larries and larry UAs and picking a video of him and H singing You and I to reply to, and probably cucumber enthusiasts and anti-vaxxers were unhappy too, but the rest of us? WINNING.

Liam is all over, first appearing in a fisherman's cap that nicely sets of his full and fluffy beard, then demonstrating answering questions for the Naughty List insta filter. He says he has never made a fake social media account, so I guess he's not lurking here reading these or I would guess that if I believed THAT for one second, he also says yes I have lied to my best friend so I'll just chose to believe he means us by 'best friend' since here he is, lying away. Dixie is absent from the recent promo, which is a blessing not just because they don't mesh particularly well but also because she's gotten even more terrible on main, moving from simply allying herself with racists to producing her own racist content- if we're lucky she'll simply fade away along with xmas and we can move on without any of that thank you very much. Liam is still a good BFF to us though: today he's offering himself up as prize in a raffle, you can enter to win a 'once in a lifetime VIP Experience in 2021 with Liam' for a low low £5, funds going to Stagehand's #ILoveLive campaign to support industry workers. And on the 17th day of christmas, my LP Advent Alarm woke me up with... Roman Kemp leading us through a weirdly peppy breathing exercise, backed with both soothing spa music and a sample of Liam's voice taken from the sleep story played over and over at near random intervals! I said it before and I'll say it again, they REALLY should have recorded all the material at once last month, but tbh I am enjoying the chaotic daily scramble to find something to put on the thing that's come of them being caught short maybe even more than I would normal content, it's getting downright experimental and I'm fully here for it. It's got that classic janky af for no reason 1D feel you know!

Rob Sheffield found better things to say about Watermelon Sugar, naming it his number one song of 2020 and calling it “a lost Stevie Nicks/ Stevie Wonder duet” plus gifting us a Harry quote: “that one we reworked a bunch of times, and it died a couple times, then it just kept coming back. We fully killed it a few times, but it kept coming back in. So I thought, There’s a reason it’s surviving.” And Chris Pine- who also says that he's all done shooting his part of Don't Worry Darling- said, “Harry Styles is an absolute delight. He's one of the most professional people I've ever met. Couldn't be kinder, more gracious, I mean, really, I was stunned by this kid. He's off-the-charts cool.”

And finally, as 2020 draws to a close we are being flooded with a barrage of our guys being declared winners of incredibly narrow categories (Harry on a list of 'groundbreaking magazine covers' for example), but I think the winner of MY list of 'Highly Specific Accolades' is sewn up for the year already; Heartbreak Weather is officially “the first [advertising] campaign to utilize weather-tracking technology to target content to users”! I'll definitely be keeping my eye out for competitors but beating that for reaching for a category will be TOUGH.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs - 2.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death. if you are not comfortable with these warnings please dni. 

< previous chapter

   - Where are you going? - Miriam rose her head from the work bench as Y/N took her gloves and googles off, disposing of both in the yellow bin. - Y/N, where are you going? Don’t leave me alone with the trainees. 

    - I’m going to get dinner. No eating in the lab, remember?

    - Urgh, couldn’t you have gone to dinner when Michael was here? You’re leaving me alone with the trainees ... and the ask so many questions. - she whispered the last part, afraid the trainees would hear her and hit her over the head with their very heavy portfolios. - I’m going next.

    - Hour break, don’t you dare page me. - she pointed her finger menacingly at Miriam before clocking out and heading out for dinner. If they had told her during her sleepless nights spent revising for her least favourite modules the most exciting time of her shifts would be the bland food served by the hospital cafeteria, she would’ve just become a pharmaceutical researcher. Yet again, you need to start at the bottom if you want to get to the top and Y/N was more than ready to climb that moment.

She pressed the button for the lift, leaning against her own hand as she tried to wake herself up. Turns out studying and staying up all night applying for PhD projects and then coming to work at 7AM is not the way to go for energy. Luckily, the black tea she had drank this morning had managed to keep her awake, however the caffeine was starting to slowly leave her system and she still had a few more hours awaiting her. As she was about to fall asleep while waiting for the lift to make it to the lower floors, she heard her name being called out.

      - Y/N? - she looked to her side to see Peter standing next to her. They’ve known each other since freshers and if there was someone who was always wide awake during twenty four hour shifts it was him. He worked currently in the clinical biochemistry laboratory, mostly coming over to visit Y/N whenever they were working on cardiac infection cases together. - I looked at the file you gave me. CRP is actually present but quite low, could be recovery phase from an infection. My guess with abdominal pain would be a UTI. 

     - You reckon it hit recovery phase by itself? 

     - Listen, some pharmacy assistant might’ve given him antibiotics. Who knows but I’d get a urine analysis, do some cultures and see how’s it going but from my point of view, it’s in recovery phase. 

    - You’re a superstar, Peter. - she hugged him just as the lift doors opened. - You’re going up?

    - Yeah, it’s dinner time. I think they’re serving meatballs today. Exciting stuff. - the two stepped onto the lift. - Miriam said Dr. Stan came down today. You’re still giving him hell?

    - I am not giving him hell. He’s just constantly sending samples either mislabelled or misplaced and he expects me to lecture his nursing staff about it. 

    - I don’t know, Y/N. Back at university you spent 2 hours arguing an answer with a lecturer, I just think you like arguing. - he chuckled as the doors opened onto the floor where the cafeteria was. - Or maybe you like arguing with Dr. Stan. 

Before she could complain about the snide comment, Peter took to having a chat with a nurse he was particular sweet on leaving Y/N with her mouth open ready to argue and a finger pointed at him. She rolled her eyes, collecting herself as she released her hair from the ponytail which held it safely high up so her scalp could rest for a few hours before it had to go back up. Walking into the green lit cafeteria, the room was filled with half asleep medical staff digging through the bland food like mindless zombies. She did not blame them, she too sometimes would switch off her brain during breaks but lately all the free time she had was dedicated to applications after applications, despite the fact she kept getting rejections every single day. 

The scientist grabbed a worn out plastic blue tray, getting a batch on weirdly shaped meatballs from the cafeteria lady as well as some odly too yellow noodles. Hey, it is food, her brain told her as she grabbed a diet Pepsi and a slice of apple pie which was the only eatable dessert around. 

     - Didn’t you owe me dinner?

     - You almost made me drop my tray. - she gave the resident doctor a dirty look, gripping tighter onto the tray. - And I’ll be damned if I ever owe you dinner but I do have your blood culture results and we did sort out your weird infection case.

      - It is not my infection case. 

     - Fine, your patient’s infection case. God heavens if any interns knew that you had an infection, that way they wouldn’t fawn over you. - she rolled her eyes at him, setting her tray in the first table she came over. He did the same, placing his tray right in front of hers before sitting in the metal chair with a cocky grin.  - Go away, I’ll send over the report to your office. 

      - Have you not figured it out yet and trying to buy yourself more time? Or are you trying to escape the dinner date you set up with me?

      - That might work on your interns but not on me, Stan. Besides, it is an infection.

       - But there’s no worrying levels CRP besides, what about the abdominal pain? Surely CRP and white blood cells would be off the roof. 

       - Okay, since you probably missed Biochemistry in med school I will explain it to you. The CRP levels are high during initial phases and lower down during resolve. Your patient is probably on recovery phase already. Recovery means it is fixing itself. Do you need me to explain CRP to you?

     - If you pulled that out with any other doctor, you would’ve gotten told off.

     - Other doctors don’t ask me stupid questions. - she pointed her fork at him. - Dr. Mackie never sends the samples in the wrong vials. 

     - What about the blood cultures?

     - Congratulations, Dr. Your patient is not septic. It’s most likely localised but I’d suggest ordering some X-rays if you wanna localise where it actually is. I wash my hands of your troubles. - she shrugged, wrapping her fork in the spaghetti laying on her plate. - Need anything else, Dr. Stan?

      - I remember being promised a dinner date.

      - You should get your ears checked, the only thing I promised you was data and you’re lucky I also gave you a data ana ... - the scientist was interrupted by her pager beeping loudly against her belt. She grumbled, looking down at her belt with a look that would scare  anyone. - Duty calls.

       - How convenient it went off now. 

       - Unlike you, Dr. Stan, I have a team to lead.

       - Sounds complicated, Y/N. You sure you don’t need a babysitter?

She turned around as she was about to leave, raising his middle finger at him before rushing down the hall as her pager beeped uncontrollably. So much for not paging her during dinner time. Someone better be dying, she thought to herself as she slide her card into the door slot to get access. What she came in contact with was not what she was expecting from a laboratory of trained professionals. Miriam was holding one of the trainees head forward whose nose was bleeding all over her worktop bench.

      - Miriam, what the fuck?

      - Don’t look at me. Thomas ... - she squinted at the boy whose head she was holding forward. - Started bleeding when he smelled the knee aspiration.

      - Oh no. - Y/N put some gloves on before walking over to the two. - Okay, Miriam call a code orange. I’ll take Thomas upstairs and get him sorted.

      - It’s so stinky.

      - I know. - Y/N handed them two cotton balls from the jar to her left. - Put  them up your nose.

What would be a day in the laboratory if a newbie didn’t either faint or got nose  bleeds from samples? Definitely not a day in her laboratory. She looked around the busy hospital grounds, trying to find any free, available nurses but they were all overworked. No wonder why, whenever midnight rolled around, people started coming in left and right from club brawls and the grounds were always a nightmare.

      - What you got there, Miss Y/L/N? Is this how you lead your team?

      - Fuck off, Stan. I do not have time to listen to your comments, I need to find a nurse.

      - What happened, kid? - Sebastian looked to the 19 year old medical laboratory assistant holding cotton against his nose. - Lab that bad? Come on, I’ll fix you up.   

      - Thanks. - she mumbled, following the two men into one of the free areas. Thomas sat on the table while Sebastian pulled up a chair to sit in, Y/N remaining up on her feet. 

      - So kid, what happened? Y/N rough you up too much?

      - He got a nosebleed from the smell of a knee fluid from an aspiration. - Y/N replied to him, much to Thomas delight who felt more than embarrassed about the situation he was in. - Is this what you’re doing now, Dr. Stan? Minor cases? Did the chief of medicine finally realised you’re unqualified?

      - No. - he spoke as he pointed out his light at the trainees nose, to look for any specific damage. - One of my patient’s in critical care but it seems to have stabilised for now at least. 

      - Oh ... sorry. What happened to them?

      - Sepsis. - he turned off the lights. - Listen kid, it’s nothing to bad. Just stay sat here and firmly pinch the soft part of your nose, just above your nostrils, for about 15 minutes. Don’t forget to lean forward and breathe through your mouth. Me or one of the nurses will come check on you after to see if it has improved but so far, so good.

     -  I’ll return to the lab. Page me when you’re ready to return, okay? - she gave the young starter a kind smile before pulling the curtains and letting him be. Unfortunately for her, Stan would not let her be. - Keep it.

     - How weak are your staff? How are they gonna react to when they actually see infected body parts?

     - I said keep it. - she crossed her arms, ready to leave and return to the laboratory until she remembered something. She turned around on her heel, passive aggressive smile on her lips as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - Also, Dr. Stan, the infected tissue samples you sent us had the wrong birthdate on them.

     - C’mon Y/N.

     - They’re on hold until you speak with the laboratory manager about them. Good luck.

He opened his mouth to fight with her but she had already gotten into the elevator. The rest of her shift was pretty uneventful with her and a few of her colleagues having to pick up the pace to get everything sorted before they left. Miriam and her fiance left first at 1AM leaving Y/N to count the minutes til 2 AM rolled around. Once the clock read 2AM, like a speeder, she was out of that laboratory and into the elevator before anyone could call her. Walking to her parking spot, the sky was dark, the lot light by harsh yellow barely brightening. As she walked over to the second handed baby blue Fiat 500, she noticed someone hunched over and sat on the top of a black new model Audi, smoke coming out from his cigarette. Normally, she would’ve just avoided it and gotten into her car to go home but the turquoise scrubs were much too familiar at this point.

    - Dr. Stan? - her boots hit the gravel as she stood just a few meters away from him. - Do they not teach you in medical school that smoking increases the chance of lung cancer?

    - Not now, Y/N. - no sarcastic remark? That was a new one. He threw the cigarette butt onto the ground once it was all over, feet rubbing it against the gravel. - Not now.

    - I thought your shift finished at 1:30? Pulling overtime hours? Someone needed your assistance? Death time?

    - My septic patient died. - she immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Death was not something she particularly dealt with. Surely, some results were awful, specially in cases of ultra resistant bacteria showing up in the blood but that’s what they were, results. She didn’t see the patient, in all honesty all she would know the patient would be by a barcode number. - Sepsis quickly lead to organ failure. I don’t understand ... she was getting better.

    - Sepsis is unpredictable. You did the best you could do. 

    - And you’d know? All you do is be in the laboratory and do tests. What would you know about it?

    - Okay ... - she put her hands on her hips. - Are you on any antibiotics, prescription pain killers, sedative drugs, statins or any antidepressants?

     - I don’t see the point. 

     - The bar nearby has a discount for hospital staff. It’s only a five minute walk and everyone else is so miserable, you don’t feel bad about being miserable.

     - I’m not going to the bar in my scrubs, Y/N.

     - If you’re okay wearing those ... - she pointed at his scrubs. - Then you are okay wearing them at the bar.

She was right, the bar did look miserable. Not in a miserable way which would require regulation to shut down the place but miserable in a way one would just be at home wallowing in their pity with a pint of beer and right now that was all he needed. He sat in a sticky red booth, in front of her with a pint of beer while she picked a cocktail from the menu.

     - You don’t seem like the type of girl who’d come here.

     - And I’m not but they sell really cheap burgers at lunchtime. - she put her hand under her chin. - Besides, I’ve done this before.

     - When did you convince someone to come to the bar because their patient flat lined?

     - You know Dr. Liam Watts?

     - Surgery residency? I’ve heard about him before. - her lips tensed in a straight line as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - No. You’ve been here with Bucktooth Watts before? 

    - Yeah... even after he clearly needed support after he couldn’t save his first patient, he still decided to take me on a date here.

    - I’m sorry, you dated Bucktooth Watts? - he chuckled, downing whatever was left of his pint, signalling the bartender to bring him another one.

   - This is why we don’t hang out. He’s not bucktoothed. 

   - Sure, sure. I see the appeal, I mean over Christmas at least you have someone to cut the carrots. 

The night went onwards with a bunch of maybe irresponsible drinking. Y/N was two mojitos in and she was already tipsy and giggling like a school girl, not really used to drinking. Sebastian was in the same state as her, trying not to laugh at everything as they stepped outside to grab a taxi. At least both of them were conscious enough to decide not to drive.

   - No, you did not get locked in the vroom cupboard during your residency. - she held her belly as she laughed.

   - I did and my senior doctor did not notice I was gone. I was stuck there for 5 hours.

   - Oh god. - she held herself against the wall. - I always knew you were a clutz. You know, you’re the only doctor who hasn’t told off his nurses about the blood  bottles.  

   - Can I tell you a secret? - he whispered mid laughter. - I am afraid of them.

   - Oh my god. - she held her hand on his shoulder covering her mouth with the other one. - See, this is why I constantly argue with you. You’re soft, doctor.

   - Arguing with you is the best part of my day. You look really hot when you’re telling me off.

   - You look terrible when I tell you off. - the two of them stopped laughing, looking into each other eyes for the first time since they’d been out of the laboratory. Maybe it was the alcohol but at that moment, the best idea to the two of them was to lean towards each other, his hands grasping each side of her waist as they connected the space between them, getting together into a hot long kiss.

[beepbeepbobop]

Back again.

I was telling my friend (who isn’t a Baccano! fan, but listens to me ramble) about my take on immortals and Czeslaw, and I don’t know where to put it, so!  It goes here.  As a warning, this is mostly me rambling and probably treads ground that has been talked about a lot in the past, but I hope it’s interesting anyway.

(This and the Infinity Train post is not a sign that I’m going to be more active in the future.  Social media and the prospect of interacting with other people’s posts still make me anxious.  Maybe one day.)

So!  The first thing to keep in mind is that change is a major theme in Baccano!.  No one is incapable of changing, but people have different relationships with it depending on who they are.  Czes can't believe that he has changed seventy years after Isaac & Miria stealing him despite clear evidence that he has.  Meanwhile, Nile actively resists change:  His greatest fear after becoming immortal was that he would become desensitized to the loss of human life and begin to devalue it, so he spent decades fighting in active war zones so that he'd never forget the reality of death.  This backfired, and instead left him inured to loss of life...but it's clear that he doesn't want to be this way?  Realizing that he's gotten to the point where his expression doesn't even change if someone dies is devastating for him.  Chane is the opposite:  While it's absolutely for the best that she stops being a hitwoman and killing machine for her father, softening up is terrifying to her because then she can't serve her father the way she wants to.   Czes is on the opposite end of the spectrum, because he wants to be better because he thinks he's a bad person (later on, he decides that he's the only bad person left in the world.  Sir.), but can't recognize it because he doesn't feel different.

And...this is pertinent to the older immortals in particular - I'd argue even moreso than with the younger ones.  Aside from the fact that the Elixir literally stops you from changing in the sense of age or injury...it also has to place inhibitors on your brain.  Your brain is, after all, a physical part of your body!  There are some....weird aspects about immortality that no one is able to figure out (for example, immortals can give birth; someone also pointed out that there are no examples of crying in reverse even though that's also a part of your body), but it's still safe to say that the brain doesn't age either because then...then a lot of the cast would be catatonic from Alzheimer's.  Even without that, the human body can only retain so many memories.  If an immortal's brain had the ability to deteriorate over time or overload based off of the amount of memories it contains....well, I don't think any of the older immortals would be able to function.  Szilard definitely wouldn't be able to function (and neither would Firo after he devours Szilard) because Szilard has the memories of over a dozen people running around in his brain.  Which brings me to my next point:  If an immortal's brain functioned like a human's, devouring would not work as a concept.  One of the hallmarks of being immortal is gaining other people's memories.  Imagine the strain that would cause.  And yet, it doesn't seem to be a problem!  The chief worry of those who have devoured other immortals is worrying that having the memories of the other person might change you consciously or subconsciously.  This is Firo's concern over devouring Szilard.

So...the fact that the brain doesn't physically grow older or change (with some leniency given because real world science sure is iffy here)...feels relevant because, mn...

Many of the older immortals feel stagnant, or stuck in time.  Firstly, if the immortals changed at the same pace as a human being, I don't think most of them would be recognizable from one era to the other.  And yet, they are!  The Victor Talbot of the 1700s is clearly the same person as the Victor Talbot of the 1930s, albeit with alterations (because what kind of person would stay exactly the same after centuries?).  The answer to that question is Elmer, by the way.  Everyone comments on how he acts just like the Elmer they remember back in the day.  But Elmer is a special case, seeing as he's our local empty shell and probable sociopath (not that he has ASPD!  ASPD, sociopathy and psychopathy all present and function entirely differently from each other, which makes it....strange that they're lumped under the same umbrella - but that's another matter).  Secondly, immortals...Uhm, they all handle grief horribly, and seem to feel stuck in the past?  Maiza, for instance, acts starkly different from his past as a rebellious noble-boy gang member, but he's never forgiven himself for giving Gretto the information that led to his death.  (Gretto being his brother.)  Huey's overarching goal is to bring his dead girlfriend back to life, and he's been working towards this goal for centuries.  Sylvie, who admittedly was not an immortal when Gretto died, held off on drinking the Elixir until she was all grown up, then set out to finding Szilard to take revenge on him for killing the boy she had run away with.  This lasted for, you guessed it, centuries.

This isn't to say that immortals don't change, or even that they don't change drastically.  I mentioned Nile, who became inured to death after fighting in war for decades.  Czes went from a trusting, innocent child to someone paranoid and self-centered enough to try and get an entire train car's worth of people killed for his own safety to someone who wants to be a good person, but thinks he never will be and that there's something fundamentally wrong with him.  But changing appears to be very, very difficult, and happens over an extended period of time in response to extreme situations.

And...this is particularly relevant to Czes (who keeps coming up as an example because he's the main person I'm thinking about with this tangent) because....it arguably hits him harder than any of the others due to being a child.  Only the best decisions were made aboard the Advenna Avis, which includes letting the eight year old drink the immortality elixir.  But...mn.  It's one thing to be perpetually in your thirties, or twenties, or sixties, and another altogether to perpetually be eight years old.  Czes can't truly 'grow up' even though he has more life experience than most adults combined, and it shows in his extreme emotional reactions, his self-centeredness, ect.  There's a certain misconception about anime-only fans that he's an adult in a child's body, but I think it's easier to tell in the light novels that that's not the case, especially since you see what he's like back before the Advenna Avis.  (He is shy.  Very shy.  Did nothing wrong ever.)  Also, the fact that SAMPLE goes, "Yes!  The perfect sacrifice!" when they specifically take a child to target emphasizes this.  It's not proof - I'm pretty sure that SAMPLE would focus on his physical age as an 'eternal child', and may or may not have the resources to analyze him and go, "This boy is still eight years old in his head," - , but it hammers the point home.

Then...mn.  One thing that's stuck out to me ever since the start is how long Czes was with Fermet.  There's such a thing as learned helplessness, and it's not like Czes had anywhere to go, so that's not what is odd to me...especially when Fermet is known for manipulating people, and could definitely seed the idea that Czes can't go anywhere.  More than physical proximity, I think about how long Czes believed in Fermet.  It's explicitly stated that Czes absorbing Fermet's memories is what made him realize that - oh, Fermet was just sadistic and everything he said was an excuse.  And...I think this is both an example of being controlled in many respects, and....another example of an immortal being stuck in the past - but in a very, very different way.

First off, learning that the people you look up to want to harm you is...difficult at best, especially when you're younger?  But being mentally 'stuck' at a certain age would make things worse, because Czes is perpetually an age where it's natural to depend on a parental figure, and at an age where the brain isn't equipped to make those kinds of calls or realizations.  There's also the matter of cognitive dissonance!  Cognitive dissonance means a lot of things, but essentially, it's the idea that you have two conflicting beliefs, but the actions you take can retroactively alter your beliefs/place emphasis on one more than the other, as the mind is predisposed to reduce dissonance.  I...take issue with how cognitive dissonance is interpreted because many examples don't account for the beliefs or opinions not being equal in the first place, but that's not the point.  The point is that, as a child, the impulse to reduce dissonance is present while also being played against difficulty reading intentions, perceiving the world outside of yourself, and thinking critically.  (For what it's worth, abusers also tend to discourage critical thinking because it damages their narrative, which would also play a part.)   So, for example...

Say that, theoretically, Czes was yelled at every time he questions the idea that Fermet's intentions are right, or that maybe Fermet doesn't have his best interests in mind.  (Czes is insightful, and they lived with each other for a long time, so this probably happened at least once unless the text directly contradicts me.)  This is tame compared to the things we know about his time with Fermet, but ignore that.  The desire to not be yelled at would lead him to hurriedly agree later on, and cognitive dissonance means that you're inclined to try to make your beliefs agree with your actions.  In other words, the more he plays along, the more his brain tells him that he definitely believes this, and it makes perfect sense to!  Fermet has shown that he cares about him, and took him in after his grandfather died, so of course.  It only makes sense.  And it's even harder for him to bridge the gap to a different conclusion because of how difficult it seems to be for immortals to change.  It's only when Czes devours Fermet (or...or at least gets his memories) that everything snaps into place, because he can't reconcile that no matter how hard he tries (coincidentally, this also happens when he gets memories of being an adult, and while I seriously doubt that Czes went through Fermet's memories willingly, it kind of hammers my point about how difficult being eternally young would make things).  So of course he snaps as hard as he does.  It'd be kind of amazing if he didn't, honestly.

TLDR:  Being immortal made it even harder for him to recognize or comprehend his trauma.  Sorry for that.

[bucky-iss-bae]

Right Person Wrong Time (Steve x Reader)

Soo this was a request from AGES ago - so sorry for taking so long with it. Hope I’ve done this justice xoxo 

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Request: Would you ever do a Steve imagine of maybe used to be friends or date and one day he sees you in town either pregnant or with a kid so he thinks your married but the father isn’t in the picture for whatever reason you like ❤️❤️

(IF you wanna request something - I’m always available) 

Warnings: None... that I can think of. 

Word Count: 1600

A/N: This was kind of a shambles, I didn't get to do what I imagined when I wrote this, and I’m thinking of doing a part 2... potentially maybe xoxo 

Masterlist

Steve was shocked when he saw you. It had been nearly 2 years since he had last seen you, and letting you go had been the biggest mistake in his life. Yet of all the cafes and coffee shops in Brooklyn, there you sat. A laptop in front of you, papers surrounding you, and coffee, most likely a chocolatey Frappuccino in front of you. He saw a cupcake wrapper, and another cupcake on another plate beside your notebook. He couldn’t help but just stare, in awe of your beauty. You were glowing. He knew how successful you’d become; he was sad that he wasn’t a part of it. But was so proud whenever he saw your name on the front of a book shop, or your book title named as number one.

Yours and Steve’s relationship was the definition of ‘Right person, wrong time’. You were both in love, a love that hasn’t died for him. A love that would never die. But the two of you were in two different parts of your lives, after a hectic few years he was settling back into life, whereas you were in the process of getting your first book published. It was difficult for you both, but you left on good terms, the both of you believing in if its meant to happen, you’ll cross paths once again.

This time he did cross paths with you, you hadn’t noticed him, shocked at that considering Bucky and Sam were arguing behind him over what to order, and Bucky refusing to go beyond black coffee.

But he was too late. He stared at your prodding baby bump realised you were well on your way to having everything you wanted. A family, a baby.

“Holy shit. Is that Y/N” Steve heard Sam ask, Steve turned to tell him to be quiet but it was too late, you had already seen the trio.

You smiled when you saw them, happy to see them, Especially Steve. You were shocked at how your heart still leapt out of your chest when you saw him, all those feelings you’ve harboured deep within you resurfacing. Steve Rogers was your first and only love. Nearly everything about your relationship was perfect, the two of you fit together like a jigsaw piece. You blended in well with his family, despite them being literal superheroes. It just meant that you could ask them questions about how fights work for some scenes in your book, or you were able to ask first-hand information on how different injuries could work. All the research you usually spent hours doing, you could just ask.

But most importantly you were in love with how Steve would do anything for you, he became your person, and his friends became a family to you. He was the one that got away.

You got up when you saw them, you saw Sam and Bucky’s shock to your baby bump, but Steve not as much. He must’ve realised you were here before you had seen or heard them.

“Shit Y/N” Sam said walking up to you and giving you a hug, “I’ve missed you, how you been?” After he hugged you Bucky also went up to you giving you the same treatment,

“You just gonna stand there Stevie?” You asked putting your arms out,

He smiled and hugged you, as soon as he had done, the both of you could feel the warmth and electricity that was still there after all this time.

“You boys in a rush, or did you want to join me?” You asked them,

“We’ve got nowhere to be” Bucky said, warily looking across at Steve, so the three of them went to join you at your table.

“Sorry for all this. It’s just, I’m getting through hopefully the final draft, and its so close to being perfect”

“We read your first one. It was amazing by the way, congratulations.” Bucky said,

“Thank you” You smiled, “That was a different stress, this it’s almost like I need to live up to that same potential. It’s painful because of how many opportunities could come from this”

“Hopefully you’re not stressing too much though huh?” Sam asked, “There’s a lot to congratulate you for”

You chuckled at that and stroked your bump, “Awh, yeah, my life, it’s taken a complete turn. It was a long process, don’t get me wrong. But I’m happy”

Steve’s heart sank slightly at that, knowing you were happy, yet the person you were with wasn’t him. He of course wanted you to be happy, but he figured the two of you would always grow old together.

“You deserve to be happy Y/N” Steve said, speaking up for the first time. His voice still sent shovers down your spine, in a good way of course.

“Who’s the lucky man?” Sam asked diving in straight for the difficult questions, that caused you to laugh a little.

“Don’t get me started Sam. Would you judge me if I said I don’t know” You had a cheeky smile on your face, loving when you told people this.

The three men looked at you confused. They were confused because you were never the type to have one-night stands. Steve instantly worried knowing you would be going through all of this alone.  The other two just shocked at what you said.

“You know, we’ve got an amazing lab, I’m sure with the right DNA sample, someone could find out and track the father down” Sam suggested,

You shook your head, a smile still on your face, risking a glance at Steve, “I meant to get pregnant. Wait no. I went through ‘Artificial Insemination’, I just, I always said that before I turn 30 I want to be a mom. And I know its selfish of me, but I just… I wanted to be a mom, and figured now’s the perfect time. My 2nd book had started going through the editing process when I made the decision. And well after a long and complicated process, 6 months later here I am”

“So you’re single?” Steve asked causing Sam to snort,

You nodded at that, “Yup. As single as I can be, with a bun in the oven though of course”

The two boys looked at Steve, and then you. The two of you making eyes at each other. You were shy to announce that you’re planning on becoming a single mother. But the other two you had seen as brothers, and Steve is Steve. Steve was staring at you with the same look he always gave you. A look that you knew that he was still in love with you, but instead he looked proud.

“Hey Buck, I think they’re calling our name, let’s go” Sam said grabbing Steve from beside you, the two of them leaving.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been in shock I think since I’ve seen you” Steve mumbled while rubbing his thumb over your hand,

You nodded, “I know. It’s okay though. How have you been?” You asked Steve,

“I’ve… been good. I’ve missed you. That’s for damn sure, but I’ve been good. Better than I was. Living in the Avengers compound at the moment. Rent around here is unnecessary. How about you, I’m just… so prod of what you’ve made of yourself. I always knew that your books would become best sellers. Seeing your name on the shelves. I couldn’t explain the feeling.”

“It means a lot” You whispered, “It shocked me. I didn’t expect to become as big as I had done. A lot of good things have been coming my way since. And with this baby, its like everything for me is nearly perfect”

“Nearly huh?” He asked looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes,

“I mean Mr Rogers, I just… I missed you like hell as well. I always figured you were the one that got away. And seeing you stood there, it just, those feelings never went away”

“They didn’t?” He asked, “Then you should know that I’m still madly in love with you as well.”

“We’ve both changed so much though…”

“I don’t care. Change is good right. We always said if we crossed paths once again…”

“But I’m pregnant” you then added,

“Makes it all the more perfect. Let me take you out. On a date. Let me woo you like I used to, let me make you mine again. Only if you let me”

“You want to still take me out?”

“It’s only ever been you” He said shaking his head, “Everyone knows that.”

You couldn’t help the smile that had crossed your face, everything would really be perfect now if you did have Steve by your side. You eyes were slightly glistening in happy tears, and he had a concerned look on his face,

“It’s hormones” you said shaking your head, “I just… I’m happy. It sounds weird, because I’ve only just seen you. But I’m so happy to see you Steve. It just… it makes everything perfect. I’m being Dramatic I know. But again hormones, me being happy”

He smiled at that, “It’s not being dramatic. I’ve got you Y/N. And I’m not missing any of it from now on. We’ll get back to where we were, and we’ll get there together”

It was true, you believed Steve’s words. Because something about the two of you connected. It always had. Steve believed this to. When he saw you, your pregnant stomach, he still had hope as selfish as it may seem. But a thought that also went through his head that it was too late, he hadn’t loved you enough when it mattered, and now someone else did and you would never be his. The thought crushed him, it broke his heart because for him, you’re it. But he’s been given a second chance, the same way he had done at life, he knew with this second chance, the two of you would start the perfect family.

A/N - Like I said, I wanted this to be better, but it is what it isssss - also nil kinda got some inspo from ‘The Backup Plan’ 

[mercurysowntwenty-two]

tell me more about lancer!! (I’ve heard of it but never played)

“It is 5016u, and the galaxy is home to trillions. At the core of humanity’s territory there is a golden age, but outside of this newly won utopia the revolutionary project continues... Your character in the world of Lancer is a mechanized cavalry pilot of particular note – a lancer. Whatever the mission, whatever the terrain, whatever the enemy, your character is the one who is called in to break the siege or hold the line. When the drop klaxons sound, it’s up to them to save the day. “ - Introduction, Lancer core rules (pp 10-11)

Lancer is a very good role-playing game about piloting giant robots and using them to make Utopia happen. I’m going to organize this into mechanical things that are Very Good about Lancer and lore things that are Very Good. Here are 12 things I like Very Much about Lancer. 

MECHANICAL

1. COMPCON

2. In addition to a primary system of regular old weapons n attacks n hitpoints, there is an entire other system of technological attacks and “heat” hitpoints to represent hacking enemy robots to increasingly bizarre effect. Making regular physical attacks is tied to physical weapon “mounts” on your mech, and these mounts may be destroyed over the course of a fight, so the technology attack system gives players who might otherwise be neutralized something to do the whole time. 

3. So much player choice: There are 29 mechs in the core rulebook, another 5 in the first rules supplement, another 3 freely available on the publisher itch.io, then various others in the nooks and crannies of the Lancer discord. Do not be daunted, however!  i. In a source like COMPCON above, all the mechs are organized by manufacturer and role. Each in-universe manufacturer matches one of the 4 fundamental mech stats so if you know you’re aiming for a mech that especially interacts with a particular part of the mechanics you’ve already selected out 75% of the choices.  a. The matches go like this: Harrison Armory matches to the “Engineering” stat and so their mechs deal with the Heat mechanics in interesting ways, HORUS matches to the “Systems” stat and so they specialize in hacking other mechs and other technological attacks, Interplanetary Shipping-Northstar matches to “Hull” and so builds tanks and tough guys, and Smith-Shimano matches to “Agility” and so builds the sexy ones the ones that have interesting ways of avoiding getting hit. b. Roles are relatively straightforward too! Striker mechs are the close-quarters fighters, artillery are... artillery- long range fighters, controllers do big Areas of Effect or impose conditions or alter character movement, defenders have big shields or are mobile bunkers or are just so darn big they protect those behind them, and support is... support- they share bonuses like repairs with their allies.  ii. Take this all together and finding the mech that best suits you is actually real easy despite the long long lists. And if you ever get locked into a build you grow to dislike? At every level up, you can completely replace and overhaul the mech licenses (which represent your ability to use the relevant equipment and frame associated with a given robot) you have so you can try other robots. 

4. The NPC system: There are 33 NPC statblocks, organized by the kind of role they have in a potential fight. In addition, there are 12 templates you could potentially apply to an NPC. Both statblocks and templates are defined by “systems”- just little traits and qualities and there are often many optional systems you can slap on for an extra level of customization. Therefore, you can tailor hundreds if not thousands of NPCs out of a seemingly-limited stock.  i. The template system means any potential moveset or archetype can be made into a miniboss or boss ii. The template system means you can flavorfully telegraph how an encounter can go- telling the players they are fighting a group of pirates prepares them for coreworm rockets and grapple leashes (hallmarks of the pirate template) regardless of the actual statblock in use. iii. Each statblock is effectively 3 statblocks in one, set to different tiers to match and scale to the level of the players throughout the game (so oops I guess there are 99 NPCs by default) iv. Monstrosity- it’s for Kaiju! it’s also one of the most modular statblocks for all the little tweaks you need for Big Monster v. Squad- for footsoldiers! 

5. There is no class system (mechanically speaking, in the lore Union is working on it). Character creation functions through selecting Skill Triggers for situations outside your mech and Talents for situations inside your mech, and mech licenses themselves. Even Backgrounds are mostly just lists of questions in order to prompt character introspection. 

6. I put this last down here because it’s kind of at the intersection of the mechanics and the lore, but Lancer has some good random tables for generating things like planets, space stations, people on space stations, Pirate crews, and big Enterprise companies. It’s just good clean fun. 

LORE

I also created this google doc for totally unrelated reasons

1. The naming convention of the rings of Union and the Blinkgates- Blinkgates are Lancer’s mechanism of faster-than-light travel. They are Big installations and passing through one can take you to any other instantly. They’re organized into “rings” of the stations that are physically closest to one another, emanating out from Earth. Each ring is named after a mountain range on Earth (now called Cradle because of course) and each gate is named after a peak in that range. This is a real small detail in the grand scheme of things but I adore it because this naming convention is a clear reflection of the priorities and values of the people who did the naming. Every gate by definition is situated in places that humans have already settled, but they’re not named according to local convention. Just so, every gate is situated somewhere in Cradle’s night sky, but they’re not named for things like constellations. Each blinkgate is named after a feature on Cradle because the blinkgates were named by the Second Committee of Union, who had a driving philosophy of Anthrochauvinism (a manifest destiny attitude towards humanity on the galactic stage, with a heavy bias towards humanity as it is on Cradle) and so of course blinkgates are named as a projection of life on Earth onto space without regard for the actual space they occupy. 

2. On a related note, according to the starship-battle spinoff Battlegroup, Union names its largest starships- its battleships- after environmentalists. That just warmed my little Environmental Scientist heart, and also is a clear reflection of the Third Committee’s values and priorities (Union rose from the ashes of an environmental disaster on Earth, and the Union Navy under the Third Committee has a general mandate of acting protectively and defensively, so Union has effectively named one set of their people’s protectors after another set of protectors). 

3. The fact that every faction is simultaneously in a state of escalating tension. "The Good War" is this inevitable conflict that everyone constantly expects, but it is constantly not here, which just increases the tension further. This makes for good adventure fodder.  i. KTB and HA are about to have the Second Interest War in the Dawnline Shore,  ii. Union and the Aun are about to have the Second Distal War in Boundary Garden, and SSC is gonna wade into it because geneticists gotta get their samples I guess,  iii. IPS-N is about to fall apart from infighting,  iv. In the Long Rim HORUS is closing in on Horizon, finding the Fourth Metavault is around the corner

4. Utopia is a verb. Corollary: Union are the enemy you want. Or: Life is good, but it can be better. All this to say, Union is presented as an unambiguous force for good, but the game and the creators make no bones about how Union can be made better (and thus directly put improving the world in the players’ court!). 

5. Many Factions are defined by a fundamental expectation-subverting "What If?"  i. Union- what if the big bad hegemony that rules over everything was (at least trying to be) the good guys?  ii. The Aun- what if the mysterious and mystical theocracy explicitly and literally had the support of a god and thus could back up their claims of manifest destiny?  iii. The Corpros- what if all of these awful organizations actually did materially improve people’s lives, instead of that just being a propaganda line they throw out to justify themselves?

6. NHPs- Explaining what’s up with NHPs in full would be a whole Thing, so for now I’ll just share my favorite thing about them: they’re like droids in Star Wars, except the creators actually acknowledge the immorality of the situation and thus generate and encourage discussion about it in the playerbase, rather than just let it be taken for granted (and thus directly put improving the world in the players’ court!). 

[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit Part 8

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: So here is a break from the death. Just a little dog fluff, annoying people, and flowers and lube as promised.  Thanks for reading 😊. Also special thank you to illuminated-blue for helping me figure out what gifs I wanted and then making them for me again (and for listening to me rant today). You’re the best ❤

Warnings: annoying people, brief mention of blood/wound cleaning, and slight dog aggression/distress. 

The next day at work you feel like you’re floating you’re so happy. Everything is going well so far with appointments, and you’ve seen at least three happy, healthy puppies today. Not even the reporter waiting for you outside your building this morning could bring your mood down. You and Milo had just waltzed right by them to your car because you were determined to make it through this day unscathed. At least up until you went to Billie’s house.

The two of you had decided that you should come over because then Billie wouldn’t have to worry about the cats being left with the sitter. You felt bad for Heather who always seemed to be watching them, and Billie most likely wouldn’t be able to see you until after dinner time. The teen probably had better things to do than watch kittens all night. Even though they were adorable.

Speaking of cats, you look to your schedule and see that it’s changed a little. You take a minute to review the new client’s information before running up to your desk to finish up some notes while you had the chance. They should be here soon if they were in fact on time.

Claire smiles as she arrives at the clinic with her cat. She shuts the door behind her after grabbing the meowing cat in the back seat. She had specifically taken the day off so she could get her cat’s vaccines updated. Fridays were ideal because they were usually the busiest at the pet store. That’s why she’d picked today. She didn’t want to work. She also had wanted to make sure you’d be here, and that she could schedule an appointment with you. That was the real reason why Claire had taken today off of work.

She hadn’t seen you since running into you and Milo at that bar and that was too long for her liking. That meeting hadn’t gone the way she’d wanted so she was going to try again. She also had never gotten the chance to see you in your element, and she was way too excited for this opportunity today.

As Claire walked in through the front door, she immediately looked around for you, but came up empty. She turned to the blonde at the front desk with a half-smile.

“Hi, I’m here with Jonesy. I have an appointment with Dr. Y/L/N.”

You had never bothered to learn Claire’s last name. However, after being harassed by the brunette numerous times, you’d think that you’d want to have that sort of information. Unfortunately, you realize your mistake too late, and you walk into the exam room with Claire and her cat only to be completely blindsided. Dammit.

You barely hold back the urge to groan as you allow your professional persona to take over. You stomp down your personal feelings toward the brunette for probably the umpteenth time since you’d met her.

“Hi, Claire. Good to see you.”

For fuck’s sake. You had to stop saying that to her.

The exam went pretty well. Claire’s cat was a little shit for some of it, but he wasn’t the worst you’ve had to deal with. You’re at the point where you just need to get samples on him, but you have a feeling that you’ll need a little help. At the end of the exam, Jonesy got a little feisty and not too keen with being poked. For this reason, you asked the assistant helping you, Maria to go get another person to lend a hand, but Claire spoke up before she could leave. They exchange an uncomfortable look before you manage to cut the tension by smiling and effectively shutting Claire down.

“Don’t think you can handle little old Jonesy, Dr. Y/L/N?”

Maria’s jaw drops and you remind yourself to be a professional as you just laugh slightly instead of rolling your eyes.

“Not at all. I just want to make sure that no one gets hurt and that Jonesy is as least stressed as possible.”

Jonesy was very stressed. He hadn’t wanted any of the baby food that was offered and it took two holders wrapping him in a towel to keep him still. You pulled his blood easily enough, despite him having old cat veins that were practically non-existent, but there was no way in hell you were going to be able to get pee on him with how he was squirming.

As you did your job, you pretended not to notice Claire’s eyes on you. It was unsettling to say the least, but you weren’t going to call her out on it and let your assistants know that you’re tense. Well, you were all tense because Jonesy was getting pissed off.

You finish up quickly and pull out the needle from Jonesy’s leg, but you have to hold it for a moment to make sure his blood clots. That’s when he claws you with the nails you hadn’t gotten around to trimming yet. Maria had lifted her hand off of his leg like she was supposed to, and Jonesy took that opportunity to claw the shit out of your hand.

“Oww, okay! Let. Go.”

You pull Jonesy’s nail out of the back of your hand as carefully as possible before dropping his foot back onto the table. You used the towel wrapped around him to wipe up the blood that was already pooling before you go to grab the nail trimmers.

“Are you okay?”

You nod before grabbing the first paw with dagger-like nails. Jonesy of course hates it, but you finish quickly enough and manage to get out of there before Claire says anything too inappropriate. First thing you do is go to treatment and grab some gauze and disinfectant to put on your cut. It was still bleeding and you hiss in pain as you scrub it clean. This one is going to hurt like a bitch for a while.

Once done you wave your hand to dry it off before returning to pharmacy. You are about to start writing up Jonesy’s note when Maria comes out of the room you’d just been in with an uncertain look.

“Dr. Y/L/N.  She has another question for you.”

You hold in your sigh before you nod and head back into the exam room. Hopefully this goes quickly.

Billie Dean was on lunch when you texted her about Claire. She had been working non-stop since she arrived to the studio at 6 this morning. She was ready for a break long enough to finish a cigarette because she was long overdue for one. She was grateful that Michelle had gotten her lunch and had it waiting for her once she finished her most recent episode. She only had one left to get to, and she was excited to be done. Even though it would definitely take the rest of the day.

After re-recording was done for the season, she was going back on television and radio to promote it. The thought made Billie exhausted, but she had to admit it would be nice to leave this studio for the next one. She had a television interview scheduled for next week, and she had already decided to talk to you about it beforehand.

There was no doubt in Billie Dean’s mind that the interviewer would ask her about her relationship with Y/N. She couldn’t just sit there and dodge it, well she could, but it would be too obvious. She needed to figure out where you both stood with your relationship. It was something she’d have to mention tonight when you came over.

Billie had to stop herself from smiling at the thought of what tonight would bring. You had agreed to come over, and you had even offered to cook. Billie wasn’t very good in the kitchen despite learning a couple of your favorite dishes, but she knew how much you loved cooking. You had practically begged her to let you make her dinner, and of course she’d said yes. How could she have said no to that?

She was eager to see what you made and was certain that the image of you cooking in her kitchen would be enough to get her through the rest of the day.

Billie sighed as she put out her cigarette before grabbing her phone out of her purse. She ignored the emails and immediately looked to your messages. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she reread the texts a couple of times.

Even after doing that, she still had no idea what you were talking about.

You were angrily texting Billie in your office when Erin came upstairs to give you your stethoscope.  You’d left it downstairs in your hurry to go vent to Billie and you hadn’t even realized it. You didn’t hear her because you were muttering darkly under your breath, and you nearly fell out of your chair when she spoke up.

“Damn, annoying persistent little--.”

“Uh…Dr. Y/L/N?”

Your feet hit the ground fast as you spun around in your chair to see Erin standing in your doorway with your stethoscope in hand. You smile before laughing awkwardly and reaching out for it. You see Erin look to your phone before shooting you a concerned look.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Everything okay, doc?”

You nod despite the fact that you’re lying. You are annoyed at Claire for reasons you can’t really work out, but it’s enough to tick you off. You were having such a good day, and then she had to come in here and trap you in a room with her. She didn’t really have any questions for you, at least ones related to Jonesy. You try not to think about those same annoying questions before you shrug and decide to tell a little bit of the truth.

“Yeah, I just saw a client who I’ve had not so fun encounters with before.”

This piques Erin’s curiosity and she can’t help but ask who you just saw. You mention her name and how she works at a pet store you go to, and Erin practically jumps at this.

“Wait, is she brunette and kind of lanky?”

You open your mouth to reply, but don’t want to be unnecessarily mean so you just shrug noncommittally.

“Possibly?”

Erin groans as she moves a little closer so she can whisper and not be overheard. You are a little surprised by what the brunette says but you figure you shouldn’t be. She has pets too after all, and she is the one who told you about the store in the first place.

“Oh my god. She is the worst. She’s always there when I go get something for Dex and she-.”

Erin trails off as she looks to you uncertainly before deciding that you should probably know. She was really hoping that what she had to tell you didn’t surprise you. If you were annoyed with her it was very likely that you were well aware of Claire’s creepy tendencies.

“She always asks about you, but I promise I don’t tell her anything!”

Despite the chill you feel travel up your spine at the thought of Claire being that creepy, you smile at Erin. You’re grateful that she can tell when someone’s being a creep, and that she’s smart enough to not give them anything they could use against her. It’s also nice to know that she has your back when it matters.

“Thank you for that. She’s always just a little too pushy.”

Erin frowns a this before nodding to herself and you. She decides that she was going to have to run interference if this Claire showed up again. She leaves you alone after that to go back to work, and you almost forgot that you’d texted Billie when your phone beeps. You jump slightly in surprise before looking to what she wrote.

Who is it that’s bothering you? One of your coworkers?

You look back to the messages you sent to her as if you’d forgotten and cringe at how you let Claire rile you up this much.

This bitch won’t leave me alone.

Her cat’s a little shit too.

Okay, so maybe this had been a little unnecessary. Sure Claire was kind of a bitch and annoying, but you probably shouldn’t have said this. She just wouldn’t leave you alone no matter what you did, and now she was showing up at your work? Next thing you knew she’d be showing up at your damn front door.

The part about her cat was true though. He was a little shit.

You type a response before returning to your records. You write up the last details for Claire’s cat, you’d been waiting until everything else was done before doing that, before heading downstairs. It’s almost 1:30, so you only have about half an hour until your next appointment. You take the steps two at a time going down on your way to the kennels. You see Milo sleeping and smile as he jumps up at the sound of the door opening.

“Hey, Milo. Want to go out?”

He nearly knocks you over in his excitement to get out. You curse before grabbing onto Milo’s harness to lead him outside. As soon as you reach the yard and make sure it is empty, you release Milo and watch him run away. He pees here and there before coming back to jump on the bench that you were sitting on. You sighed before standing up and grabbing a frisbee and holding it up with a smile.

“Ready?”

Milo runs after the frisbee until he’s exhausted and panting ten minutes later. He’s lying in the grass with the frisbee near his mouth because he still had to hold onto it so you wouldn’t take it from him. You walk over to him because you figure he needs to go inside for some water, but Milo grabs the frisbee when he sees you coming. He runs away despite still panting and you sigh as you watch your dog run around with his frisbee. You decide it’s a lost cause and leave him to play with it for a minute as you run inside really quickly to grab something.

You nearly run into Erin on your way inside, but you stop just in time before shooting her an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Erin.”

She waves you off before glancing outside. “Milo out there?”

You just nod and she asks if she can take the twins out there. The ‘twins’ are two golden retrievers that are boarding for about a month while their home is under construction. They’re super sweet like most goldens and Milo loves them. You smile before nodding and continuing on your way into the clinic. You don’t make it very far before you’re stopped again.

“Dr. Y/L/N!”

You turn at the sound of someone calling your name. One of the receptionists is holding a large arrangement of flowers that almost completely hides their face. You smile about to ask who they were for before she hands them to you.

“For you. Do you want me to put them in your office?”

You shoot her a confused look and it takes you a second to respond. You eventually shake you head before reaching out to take them from her. You thank her before watching as she heads back up front before you look to the flowers again.

They’re beautiful and bright and they smell wonderful. The arrangement is a mix of roses, lilies and a couple other flowers you didn’t know the name of. You were halfway up the stairs before you attempted to look for a card. It was hidden and you couldn’t pull it from the flowers easily. You set the vase down on your desk before freeing the card from the petals and flipping it over to read what was written.

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

Billie Dean.

You smile at the note before tucking it away somewhere safe. You were touched that Billie would surprise you like this and you couldn’t wait for tonight either.

It was going to be different from any of your previous dates. You were going to cook because you had been wanting to since you found out how much take-out Billie ate, and it was going to be at her house so you could see the kittens. You were only a little nervous about going over to Billie’s house again, but you were determined not to make it a big deal.

It had only been a few weeks since you met, but you hadn’t felt like how you did with Billie, with anyone else. Certainly not with your horrible exes. Billie Dean made you feel comfortable in a way that no one else ever had. She was different. Obviously because she was a medium, but honestly that wasn’t the difference that mattered to you. You hadn’t been lucky enough to be with someone that was as considerate and understanding as Billie. She never faulted you for your awkward and depressing past, and she was busier than you were so the sporadic texts and the even more sporadic dates didn’t upset her like you feared it would.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of yet someone else calling your name. This time however it was more frantic than you were expecting and you hurried out of your office. You’re met at the stairs by a slightly panicked Lindsey who must have been on lunch because she still had half of it in her hand.

“What’s is it? Is something wrong?”

Lindsey just hurries back down the stairs and opens the door to treatment. You follow her without question as she nods and fills you in on what’s going on.

“Milo was playing with the twins and he got stuck in the fence chasing the frisbee.”

You have to hold in your groan of disbelief because of course your overzealous and slightly impulsive dog would do this. You just mutter an okay under your breath before heading back out into the yard where you see Erin and Mina standing beside your screaming dog. He’s thrashing and trying to pull himself out, but he’s pretty stuck and really must have been running full speed.

You run over to the trio to try and calm Milo down because it seems like he really is stuck. You crouch down next to him on his right before reaching out for the panicked shepherd.

“Hey! Milo, hey, hi. It’s me, you’re okay. Shh, it’s okay, buddy.”

You reach through the bars of fence to pet Milo’s head and he calms enough for you not to be worried about him injuring himself further. You look him over quickly and don’t see any blood immediately, but then you reach his head and you see some dripping from his nose. You sigh in frustration as you try to figure out what the best thing to do is.

“Could you run inside and get a couple of towels and some lube?”

You figure that’s the best thing to get him out of this jam and you watch as both Erin and Mina leave, the latter leading the twins inside so they don’t get in the way. You turn back to your dog who is still panting in either exertion or stress, you’re not sure, and you do your best to keep him calm while you wait for your supplies.

“It’s okay Milo. You’re alright. We’re going to get you out, okay?”

Milo just whines before he turns to lick your hand that had been scratching his neck. You realize that you should probably take off his harness if you hope to slide him back through the fence, but you only get it halfway off before it becomes stuck.

“Dammit.”

Erin returns first and she stands back a little not sure if you want help before she speaks up.

“Anything I can do?”

You nod before motioning for the brunette to come closer so you can show her what you’re trying to do. If you pull on his harness while Erin pushes him away from the fence post a bit you might be able to get it off. You explain this and Erin just nods before moving to put her hands on Milo.

“Sorry buddy.”

It works but Milo yelps as you do it, so you decide to leave the other side be. Maybe you can slide him forward enough on the other side and figure it out from there. He was trapped from just behind his shoulders with most of his body still inside the yard, so maybe you could just pull him back in. When Mina arrives with the towels and what looks like all of the lube in the hospital, you relay the plan and put on the gloves that Mina luckily had the foresight to bring.

“Okay, Milo. We’re going to put this on you and try to slide you out alright?”

You know that he’s not going to respond or even really comprehend what you’re saying, but you know that hearing your voice will calm him down. He’s always been anxious when having things done to him and this was going to be worse due to the fact that he’s already highly stressed before anything has even begun.

You start to rub some of the lube on his right shoulder through the fence while Mina and Erin take his left side. Milo turns as they talk to him too, but is unable to see and growls as they touch him.

“Hey, Milo, stop that. They’re just trying to help you, okay?”

You try to keep going, you even move one of your hands to his left side but it doesn’t help. Milo just gets antsier and he’s growling louder before you realize it’s not working. You can’t be mad at him for being scared. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he can’t see them so he’s distrustful.

You make the decision to switch sides with them so he can see them and just hear you on his blind side. You berate yourself for not doing this initially because Milo immediately calms down and his tail starts to wag as you scratch him between his shoulder blades.

“Good boy, Milo. Almost done okay?”

Now that Mio is sufficiently lubed, you try and slide him back through the bars. You manipulate one of his legs forward to try and slide him backwards but he’s still too wide. You instruct Erin and Mina to do the same and Milo’s legs are stretched out as far forward as they can go before you try again. You have to readjust as Erin moves to pull him from behind, and you breathe a sigh of relief as Milo finally slides back into the yard. You hold onto him as his head whips around to see who’s at his rear end, and you look at his nose carefully before taking his harness off completely. You try to wipe off some of the lube with the towels, but it’s no use. Milo’s too excited about being freed and he’s already shaking it everywhere anyway.

“Look at you Milo. You’re a mess, huh? You need a bath.”

He just licks your face and you groan in annoyance before thanking both of your helpers. You scratch your dog behind his ears for another few seconds before you stand up and motion for him to follow you.

“No more frisbee for a while, okay?”

It turns out that Milo’s a little sorer than anticipated and after his bath he yelps when you reach underneath him to pick him up. You try again more carefully before just letting him jump up on you. You regret this immediately once all 70+ lbs of him is in your arms, but you put him down quickly as he shakes all of the water off of him. You groan in disgust before covering him with a towel and attempting to dry him off.

He whines when you put him in the kennel with the blow dryer, but you have to get to your appointment. You’ll check on him afterwards, but for now you have to go see a dog about some skin issues.

“I’ll be back Milo. Be good.”

It’s 4 before you are able to take the time to examine Milo again. You are in between appointments when you pull him out of his kennel and bring him into treatment. You brush him out because he looks like a mess and as you’re doing that you notice he’s a little sensitive along his ribs. Not that you’re shocked. He’d forced himself through a damn hole he shouldn’t have been able to fit through.

You listened to him and didn’t find anything else wrong and decided to just give him a little something for the pain that would be worse tomorrow. Your next appointment arrives as you are finishing up with him but it’s taking you a minute to get Milo to take his pill. He’s always been horrible about taking medication.

“Dr. Y/L/N. Billy’s here.”

You’re a little confused by this and you turn to Erin with a frown. You’re currently holding open Milo’s mouth to try and shove this pill down his throat when you realize what she means. Billy. The cat with arthritis.

“Right okay, what’s going on with him?”

Billie Dean checks her phone again once she’s done with work. She hasn’t heard from you yet which makes her think you’re still working. It’s nearly 6:30 which is a little late for you, but she decides to just head home and get things ready.

Other than taking care of the kittens and making sure there were clean dishes for you two to use, she didn’t have much she could do. You had refused to tell her what you were cooking and had insisted on shopping yourself. Billie was already in the car when her phone rang. She answers it without looking to see who it is because she’s driving, but she doesn’t have to wonder long.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Billie I’m so sorry for not calling you sooner! Things got crazy here. Milo got stuck in a fence, a dog came in after getting hit by a car, but thank you so much! The flowers are beautiful!”

Billie chuckles under her breath at your flustered state, but then she registers everything that you said and she frowns in concern.

“I’m glad you liked them, Y/N. Did you say that Milo got stuck in a fence? Is he okay?”

You turned around to glance in the back seat briefly to see him fast asleep. He was exhausted from his exciting day and probably would sleep the rest of the night.

“Yeah, he was having too much fun with some friends and a frisbee and ended up halfway through an iron fence.”

Billie shakes her head at the image this conjures up and she sighs as she turns into her driveway.

“Aw poor baby.”

You laugh at this before pulling up to your apartment building. You still had to go shopping to get groceries, but you had to make sure that Milo was situated first. You weren’t sure how long you would be gone and were a little stressed by this, but you would figure it out.

“Yeah, he had a rough day.”

You both were silent as you turn off your cars and consider what to say next. You were trying to figure out how much time you needed to take care of Milo and shop before you could head over to Billie’s. Billie was trying to figure out things for Milo as well, but you hadn’t even considered what she suggested.

“How was your day?”

“Do you want to bring him?”

You both speak at the same time and it takes you a second to realize what she’s said. You shake your head as you turn around to see Milo still out cold. You hoped you wouldn’t have to carry him. Again.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just get him set up here before heading to the store.”

Billie’s already out of her car by the time she responds. She doesn’t mind either way, but she has a feeling she knows what you want to do. Not to mention, she supposes that the kittens need to be socialized and Bit possibly scared obedient. As if that would ever work.

“Would you feel better if you brought him?”                            

You don’t answer immediately which is honestly the only answer that Billie needs. You’re thinking about how you would love to bring him along because you’d be able to watch him and you could see how Milo would act around the kittens. You had always wanted a cat, and you supposed now was as good a time as any to see how it might work. Or not. As long as Billie didn’t mind.

Eventually you answer and Billie has to force herself not to smile smugly at how well she knew you already.

“I guess. I don’t want you to feel obligated though. I can’t exactly promise that he won’t get hair everywhere!”

You jump out of your car quickly before opening the back door startling Milo awake. He sits up quickly and you reach into the back seat and unbuckle him before grabbing his leash. He jumps to the ground a little more carefully than he usually would before you hear Billie reply.

“I want you to do whatever you need, Y/N. I’m fine either way. You know I adore Milo.”

You smile at this as you look to your dog who is yawning as you walk to the elevator. You suppose that you can take him with you. He might actually enjoy it. You just had to make sure he behaved and didn’t hurt any of the kittens. Billie said this before you got a chance to and you laugh as you nod in agreement.

“We’ll just have to see how he plays along with the kittens.”

You follow Milo into the elevator before leaning against the wall with a sigh. You suppose it’s decided then. You feel your excitement for tonight increasing again, now that you know Milo won’t be home alone. You just smile as the doors close and you take a deep breath.

“We will. I’ll feed him and then be over in about an hour. Does that work?”

Billie’s nodding before she greets Heather who is with Mickey in the living room.

“I’ll see you both then.”

Part 9

[nightwingmyboi]

I'll always remember Devin Grayson as the woman who wrote Nightwing getting raped by a supervillain and then tried to pass it off as "wasn't rape, just nonconsensual"...which is LITERALLY THE DEFINITION OF RAPE, YOU HACK!

MSL: Male rape is a topic rarely touched on in comics. Why is it suited to bring it into Nightwing?

DEVIN GRAYSON: For the record, I’ve never used the word “rape,” I just said it was nonconsensual (I know, aren’t writers frustrating? *smiles*) [x] 

Yeah there is no other word for what happened in Nightwing #93 other than rape...I can’t imagine why she would say otherwise. She did technically apologize, but that was ten or so years later. So she eventually, finally did come out and just admit what everyone already knew, but she was still way too late to actually fix any of the damage she caused with how she completely mishandled things. I also don’t think her little apology begins to cover all the issues I have with her. 

Devin’s characterization of Dick is just so, so freaking twisted to me. Really, I don’t think there is a Nightwing writer I despise more than Devin Grayson. The interviews I’ve read from her give me the creeps:

DG: The way I think about him [Dick], he likes everyone, he’s sort of a contact junkie - just this incredibly physical (and attractive) person who lives wholly in the corporeal plane and responds with - processes things in - his body before his head or heart. I imagine that he can be hypnotized by a touch the way other people can be stopped dead in their tracks by the sight of money or the promise of true love. I think he likes kicking and kissing in almost equal measure - except kissing edges out ahead because you can do it for longer and it leads to nicer things. [x]

Yeah that’s fucking unsettling. This is Devin being gross and projecting her sexual fantasy’s onto Dick. And she very much invented this extreme view of Dick as obsessively physical. Pre-52 Dick was always written as a master strategist, an unparalleled leader, one of the best detectives in the world, outside of Devin’s writing. Her fantasy version of Dick doesn’t mesh with that...Dick wouldn’t be capable leader if he’s “thinking with his body” (whatever that means) all the time. He’s survived this long because he’s intelligent and logical. Frankly, Devin’s take on things doesn’t even make any freaking sense. But it gets worse: 

DDG: I’m writing a novel for WB right now that he’s in and I have one scene where Batman has to stop a fight before it gets out of control, and most of the people he can just yell or glare at, but with Dick, he just stands really close behind him and Dick freezes. That’s not supposed to be a sexual thing (though it is kinda hot! ::laughs::), it’s an understanding on Bruce’s part that his physical proximity will speak just as quickly and loudly to Dick as his voice, maybe even be processed faster.

What the actual fuck. You’ve probably guessed it based on how that little scenario played out. Devin ships Dick with Bruce. 

DG: And now think about being a very physical and naturally gregarious and loving person and growing up with someone like Bruce. Then add in the confusion about his status - a “ward” is something you stop being the minute you turn eighteen. Having already lost his parents and then hurling into adolescence at the speed he did...in my personal version of the story, he develops sexual desire and social anxiety about the future at the same time, and this leads to tremendous confusion, on his part, about his role in Bruce’s life. He can’t be a ward forever, in the back of his head he knows he won’t be Robin forever...what is he to this man who is at once his best friend and personal savior, personal god? “Son” is what they eventually settle on, but I think when Dick was in his late teens, the idea of “lover” must have run through his mind (which means, really, as we’ve already discussed, it ran through his body).

Wild that Dick is usually written as incredibly intelligent and emotionally cognizant (was able to puzzle out Damian’s complex motivations and needs when no one else in Damian’s life could for example) and yet Devin thinks he’s not able to sort out that he’s not supposed to make sexual advances towards his father. And by wild I mean stupid as fuck. And, just fyi, Devin goes with the version of events where Bruce took Dick in when he was eight years old! So he’s pretty fucking young when this is all happening! Just when you thought it couldn’t get more disgusting. 

Eventually, much later, Dick gets distracted by other relationships and is able to ease up enough on Bruce for Bruce to relax into his own comfort-level of kindness and affection again (once the threat of sexuality has been removed) and they carry on more or less unharmed. But the relationship remains incredibly powerful and intense for Dick, who ends up feeling apologetic, rejected, and confused on top of all the other issues we already know exist between the two of them. Dick responds to Bruce - or really I should say Batman, since that’s who his relationship is with - on every single level.

So, according to Devin, Dick views Bruce as his “personal god” and is incredibly submissive to and possessive of him. That’s why Devin’s writing is littered with scenes like this: 

Gotham Knights #17

Where Dick acts incredibly awkward and “apologetic” about dating Barbara, because of how he previously made sexual advances towards Bruce in Devin’s fantasy world. Also with Devin, Dick spends a lot of his time stuttering every time Bruce is in the room, even though he’s usually a smooth talker, very chatty, and that’s because of the supposed “intensity” of Bruce and Dick’s relationship. And then there are scenes like this: 

Gotham Knights #18

Where Dick uncharacteristically and disproportionately loses his cool at the slightest insinuation against Bruce and is reduced to an angry hot head. Dick has been noted to be incredibly level headed; he’s also famous for being a mediator among the hero community...this behavior is a complete departure from the way he would normally act under other writers. Dick’s also been one to level plenty of criticisms towards Bruce himself. This sudden personality change where Dick thinks Bruce can do no wrong, where no one can criticize Bruce in Dick’s presence without him absolutely blowing up, where he suddenly can’t control his emotions over the littlest things...it really exists primarily in Devin’s writing. It’s incredibly OOC behavior and it’s rooted in Devin’s sexual fantasies frankly. 

Devin’s writing is also where Dick, despite being incredibly dedicated and monogamous in all of his previous relationships, suddenly became a womanizer. Literally, everyone was written as wanting to get into Dick’s pants: Rose Wilson was reduced to a giddy teenager because of Dick, random women in the streets would comment on how cute Nightwing was, a mob boss’s daughter who was only 15 years old was obsessed with Dick and made advances, Dick had a one night stand with Huntress because she reminded him of Bruce, Bruce called Dick “Hunk Wonder,” Dick undressed in front of fucking Deathstroke (and there was a newspaper with “Richard Wilson” on it as a sly little wink towards the audience), psycho vigilante Tarantula is obsessed with Dick to the point of raping him, the list goes on. If you want more samplings of how freaking disgusting and sex-obsessed Devin was when it came to Dick, look no further than her gross Inheritance book, where she ships Dick with everyone from Green Arrow to Aquaman (here are some quotes if you’re a masochist). And since Dick “thinks with his body” or whatever, Devin’d write him as receptive (or very oblivious) when it comes to this attention. 

Gotham Knights #10

Nightwing (1996) #107

Another thing that made me extremely uncomfortable is how Devin would always have strangers and villains, especially older men--people who Dick very much did not know and wouldn’t appreciate being in his personal space--be all grabby with him. Please leave him alone. 

Nightwing and Huntress #2

There Dick is, “hypnotized” in place by Huntress’s touch. Kill me. It is also especially messed up that Devin suddenly turned Dick into some sexual, warm-blooded hot head at the same time as she decided to introduce him as Romani. 

Q: How could him being Romani be used to inform his characterization?

It reinforces his “otherness” where Bruce is concerned in what I think is a useful, interesting way...It also presents the opportunity for there to be a slight chip on his shoulder, which maybe speaks to his scrappiness. It also maybe gives him a slightly deeper way to relate to someone like Helena--someone who is white but other--and gives the people who love (or lust after) him a potential cultural excuse for feeling as bewitched as they sometimes do. I also just love the idea of Bruce occasionally calling him “hot blooded” just to mess with him, because Dick would of course deny being so in an extremely hot-blooded manner. [x]

Her feeding into the fetishizing of biracial individuals is just disgusting and wrong. If there’s a racist stereotype available Devin really goes out of her way to make sure she includes it in her writing huh. 

Gotham Knights #20

And Bruce being a racist jerk is not charming Devin, it’s terrible. Barbara used slurs also, and was very dismissive of Dick’s reaction to Bruce’s actions...that was also horrible. It’s awful that Dick’s own family would apparently treat him this way. Obviously, Dick isn’t the only one that Devin would write out of character. 

It’s all just so messed up to me, I can’t stand it. When I first read her comics, even when it wasn’t blatant like above, I would feel something subtly off...and once I read her interviews I can’t help but notice these horrible underlying insinuations in all of her work, in so many seemingly “innocent” scenes. There are a lot of big things she’s known for (her horrible treatment of Dick’s Romani heritage and his rape for example) but all these subtle, insidious little details that people don’t even really register...they are equally frustrating to me. Seeing sects of the fandom pick up these details (like, the idea that Dick doesn’t understand personal boundaries, the idea that he’s a hot head, the idea that he’s a womanizer, etc.) when I know a lot of it stems nearly solely from Devin’s crappy characterization and writing of Dick...it’s hard. 

Q: Further to that, if Dick is gay, what kind of guy is his type?

DG: ...Type isn’t as important as passion and opportunity. Because of his psycho-sexual makeup, the other key factor would be a sense that he means something to that other man, that his “surrender” is making that man happy, allowing him to bring pleasure to someone (as he was never allowed to do for Bruce). There’s also a sense, if I may be so bold, of needing to be “caught” and “held down” - this going back to the trauma of losing his parents...being strong and passionate and heroic and virile and loving with a woman is fantastic, he lives for that. But he lost both parents. There is also a part of him that longs to be pinned down and loved a little bit savagely and hurt just enough to reassure him that he’s alive. Man, I’m totally gonna get fired when this comes out....

Literally makes me want to barf. That is supposed to be a professional, official writer at DC. Could go on forever. 

[clockworkgraystairs]

HERE FOR YOU || Jurdan College AU Pt. 2

Warnings: None. Swearing maybe?

Tags: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23​ @aesthetics-11​ @hizqueen4life​ @duarteegreenbriar​ @mysweetvilllain​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @althekingshorses​ @thewickedkings​ @demydreamer-otaku-and-book-lover​ @thesirenwashere​ @b00kworm​ @acourtofmoonlight​ @queen-of-glass​ @random-llama-socks​ @jurdanhell​ @cardan-greenbriar-tcp​ 

[if I forgot to tag anyone or if you want to be tagged let me know!]

Summary: After finding a very ill and feverish Jude, Cardan takes her to the doctor. And deals with her usual stubbornness.

HFY Masterlist      Pt 1   Pt 2   Pt 3   Pt 4 [coming soon] 

AO3 link

My masterlist

Cardan had never liked doctors. When he was a little kid, his mother had to apologize several times because he kept glaring and calling them creepy warlocks, claiming they cured people using potions that stunk and had a sour flavor. And even though he’d got over that phase of his life, the scent of medicine still gave him a slight skittish sensation. 

Now, after nearly an hour of waiting he was definitely not enjoying himself, except that this time he couldn’t quite tell if the feeling was because of the smell or not knowing what the doctor was telling Jude, making his muscles tense more with every minute that passed.

One part of him wished nothing more than yell at her for being so reckless and not seeking for help earlier. 

The other part though, kept thinking about that morning.  

He and Jude had agreed to meet every monday and  friday at 9:00 am to work on their final project. At the beginning their meetings had place at the school’s library, since they didn’t talk much. Not because he didn’t want to, of course. But after years of confronting Jude at class, he’d learn to give her space when she focused on something. And maybe because she was a little scary too. 

Within time, her frowning glares became curious eyes and her monosyllabic answers, full conversations.

By the third month, they had to look for a new place to meet. The library’s manager, tired of scolding them at least six times a day for talking and laughing too loud, had forbid them to enter the building together. Or being together in there at all.  

That’s how they ended up in a coffee shop near the campus. The place was small and cozy. The owner, an old sweet lady called Joanne, prepared the best cappuccinos Cardan had ever tasted. 

That morning though, he hadn’t been able to take a sip of his beverage. The two cups of coffee steaming on the table seem to mock him as he alternated his gaze between them and the door, waiting for her to arrive. His leg bounced uneasily and he felt his hands sweatier than usual.

 He glanced at the clock. 9:20 am. She was already twenty minutes late. Jude was never late. 

From the kitchen, Joanne whistled cheerfully the song that came out from the speakers. An italian song he couldn’t identify. When her eyes crossed Cardan’s she smiled and gave him an encouraging nod. He shifted on his seat, looking down at the small bunch of flowers he’d bought. The white peonies and daisies rested smoothly on the wooden table.  

Damn her. Of all days, she’d chose this one to be late.

When he woke up that morning, he was thoroughly decided to finally come clean. To finally tell Jude he was in love with her.

He sent her another message. Nothing. 

He called her. No answer. Again. 

Had she forgotten? 

Impossible, they met there twice a week. 

The only possible option left in his mind was that she’d remembered. And didn’t care.  

Anger pooled on his stomach. What an idiot he felt now. They had an agreement, imposed by her by the way, of letting the other one know about any inconvenience. Was he really that insignificant for her he didn’t deserve a simple notice? 

Bottle it up, he said to himself.

That’s when he remembered she’d been absent from class those last two days too. Even professor Noggle asked about her, a thing he didn’t do with most of the students. 

Cardan frowned. In a swift move he stood and walked out. 

He left the money for the coffee on the table, and the flowers next to it. 

The door opened, bringing him back to the present. As Jude walked out of the consulting room, he noticed her pallor had decreased. Not enough to relax him, but it was something. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, raising to stand next to her. 

She shrugged. “Better, I told you it was nothing. Let’s go.”

“Ah ah,” The doctor started, closing the door behind him. “That’s not exactly what I said young lady.”

Cardan frowned at her. Seriously? Her only answer was a deep sigh and rolling eyes. 

“My exact words were that it didn’t seem like something too serious or life-threatening. Not that it was nothing.” He took a prescriptions block out of his coat and scrawled something in the front page. Jude groaned.  “It’s most likely a severe stomach flu, aggravated by the days it was left untreated. But since the fever was strong, I’d like to wait and see if it settles now.”

“Most likely?” Cardan repeated, his brows pulled together in a frown. What had he paid this clown for, then? 

“Well it’s always good to scrap any other possibility, I took a blood sample from miss Duarte so I can send it to the lab. But I don’t believe it will show any other result.”

He nodded. “So what now? We just wait?”

“Cardan.” Jude mumbled. He didn’t move his eyes from the doctor.

“Pretty much.” He handed him the prescription. “She got an injection for the temperature already. Here are scripted some pills she’ll need to take for the next three to five days, to help with the nausea. And of course, lots of water and electrolytes.”

“Thank you, I’ll get those right away.” She said as she snatched the paper from Cardan’s hand and put it away. 

“Miss Duarte, I’ll recommend you to stay under observation the next two days. Just in case the fever returns and you need immediate assistance.” 

“Of course.” Jude answered nonchalantly, already reaching for the exit. “I’ll let my sister know so she can come over. Thanks.”

Back on his car he drove in silence. ‘Never let me go’ by Florence + The Machine sounded low on the radio. With closed eyes, Jude leaned towards the open window, her brunette locks flying wildly around her head. 

Cardan glanced sidewards at her, forcing himself not to linger too much on her slightly parted lips. His mind went back to the moment she’d collapsed in his arms. Cheeks flushed and burning up in heat. Even if he never admitted it out loud, she’d scared the hell out of him. 

He pulled his attention back to the road and cleared his throat. “I thought both of your sisters were out of town. Is any of them back? I can call them if you like.”

Jude ignored his question. After a moment of silence she whispered. “Why are you doing this?” 

Cardan shrugged.  “It’s a little bit obvious isn’t it?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You have our full project on your laptop, Duarte. And it has a password. If you die, then how on earth am I supposed to recover it?”

A punch landed on his arm, followed by a soft chuckle. “Ass. And you don’t need to call anyone. It’s not necessary.”

“Meaning?” Now it was his turn to scowl.

“Meaning,” She sighed. “That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you already did more than enough. Besides you’re right, my sisters are far far away from here, right where they should.” 

He couldn’t believe his ears. Earning a honk from the car behind them, Cardan pushed the brake, leading the car aside so it could fully stop on the sideway. 

“Hey, calm down Toretto!” She shouted raggedly, grabbing the door handle for support. “What the fuck!?”

“What the fuck? That’s exactly what I’m asking you, Duarte!” Now he could fully turn to face her incredulous stare. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You passed out a couple of hours ago, you were burning up in fever. Do you realize that? Apparently not, because despite the recommendations, you still insist on not listening!” 

An exasperated sigh left his lungs. He grabbed the wheel tighter, trying to ease the growing pool of rage inside him. Calm down. He’d spent his life telling himself to calm down. Being terrible at expressing his feelings, he was used to get irritated every time he faced pain, or fear. Or pretty much anything, actually. But gods, how could she be so stubborn? 

Jude pressed her mouth into a thin line and looked down, her hands twisting faintly on her lap. She was indeed nervous about whatever illness loomed in her body, he noticed, trying to ignore the lips he so badly wanted to tug between his. 

“I’ll stay with you.” The words left his lips before he fully realized it. 

“You what? Don’t be rid-”

“The doctor said you needed to be under supervision.” He answered turning back to the road, and put his car on march again. She was probably giving him some murdering glare that he prefered to elude. “So you have two options sweetheart, either you let me stay at your place or you come back to mine, but a frat house it’s not exactly a place to rest. You are, by no means, staying alone.”

Half a second later, even the radio was muffled by her incessant ranting. Hardly determined to convince him of doing otherwise. 

Cardan just drove.

~

When he parked next to her building the sun was already setting. 

With her arms firmly folded across her chest Jude hadn’t stopped gritting her teeth all the way back. This was madness, she repeated to herself over and over. 

The man showed up out of nowhere, took her to the doctor, paid for her medicine and now wanted to stay in her apartment? No fucking way. 

The problem now, was that if there was anyone on earth even more stubborn than her, it was Cardan. A man that no matter how many times she asked him to just leave her on the sidewalk and leave, was now walking up the stairs next to her. A satisfied grin on his perfect charming face. If she didn’t feel as weak at the moment she’d slapped his way out of the place. 

Once inside she left the medicines and the gatorades on the table and turned to him. 

“For the hundredth time, Cardan. You don’t have to stay, everything is under control and I’m not feveri- what’s that?” She asked, noticing the hanging object on his shoulder.

“A backpack?” 

She rolled her eyes. “I‘m not blind, you ass. What are you doing with that backpack?”

“I always keep some extra clothes in my trunk. You know, in case I find myself in any unexpected situation.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her in a way that twisted her guts. Ugh, disgusting.

The repulse must’ve been written on her face too because he snickered for a second before throwing it next to the couch. “Becoming your hot nurse certainly fits in the category dear, you can’t deny that.” 

She blinked and pushed back the intrusive thoughts that emerged from his statement. Why was her mind against her today? Maybe the fever had burned her coherency brain cells, if she’d ever had any to begin with.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know.” Cardan dropped himself on the couch, opening a book he’d taken from his pack. “Now take those pills, put on your weird pijama and go rest.” 

Maybe she could still gather the strength to slap him after all.

Trying to ignore the sour flavor that shitty pills left on her mouth, Jude stood in front of the mirror. Wearing the shorts and the t-shirt she’d put on before they went to the doctor, she found herself suddenly worried by her clothing and messy hair. 

Which was utterly absurd. It wasn’t as if he cared at all about her wardrobe choices.

Still, the idea of them sleeping under the same roof unnerved her. It had been a long time since she’d had someone from the opposite sex staying the night. Either way, her exasperating classmate certainly hadn’t crossed her mind.

She bit her lip.

Ok that was a lie. Being honest she might have thought about it a couple of times. Mostly drunk. She always felt guilty the day after. And pissed. It left her wishing she could hate him again, like she did on sophomore year when he was truly a rude idiot. But no matter how hard she’d tried, his wits and dumb jokes had slowly changed her perspective of him. Not to mention those deep dark eyes and wicked smile of his. It only took a pair of tequila shots to start fantasizing about running her lips along that jaw. FINE, it didn’t take any tequilas to do that. But sober she had a tiny bit of control over her too-creative mind. Drunk Jude had already undressed him in her dreams once. Twice?

And now Cardan was outside, lying down on her comfy couch. Staying the night.

Jude chewed her inner cheek. This was a nightmare. 

As quiet as possible, she opened the door and peered outside. He was nowhere to be seen. Maybe some ancient deity took mercy on her and vanished him to oblivion. That or he was probably in the bathroom, so she tiptoed her way to the modest kitchen. 

She’d just finished preparing her chai tea when the bathroom’s door opened. Decided to ignore him, she kept her gaze down. 

At least until she caught a glimpse of him with the corner of her eyes. That, snapped her attention back. Oh no, no no no no.

“CARDAN GREENBRIAR WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I...what?” 

“Could you please… I don’t know, maybe put a fucking shirt on?!” She could already feel her blood gathering on her cheeks. 

He paused and quirked an eyebrow. “For your information, Duarte, I tend to sleep naked. These pants are a sign of my consideration to you, since we’re at your place.” 

The goddamn idiot was made of marble. Jude knew he wasn’t precisely one of those big muscular men, not that it meant he didn’t have everything in place. His well formed shoulders and arms were visible even with clothes, and now she could admire the slightly marked muscles of his torso all the way down to the V that disappeared under his pine-green pants. His shoes were off too. 

“Are you blush-” He started, only to be cut by her murderous voice.

“Good night, Cardan.” Taking her cup, she crossed the place with big steps, slamming the bedroom’s door behind her. 

Leaning against the wood, she heard the couch creak as he laid down. Her breathing evened a little a few minutes after. 

Shit, that had been rude. Even if he’d imposed his presence there he was still a guest, her mind scolded her. A really hot guest. No no, don’t think of that now.

As silently as she could she opened the door again. And pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laugh at what she saw.  

Cardan’s legs hung over the couch’s arm. Which made sense, considering how tall he was, but right now it only looked bloody ridiculous, and kind of adorable. She tried to ignore the guilt that pierced her heart again. He seemed stiff. An idea shone on her mind. A terrible terrible idea.

“Cardan?” She whispered.

He hummed in response.

She swallowed and walked towards him. “You can’t sleep in there.”

He scoffed and looked at her through hooded eyes, dark and deep made her heart skip a beat. “If you’re trying again to convince me to leave…”

“I’m not.” Jude blurted, passing a hand over her curls. Somehow words seemed to stuck in her throat. “I mean- even when you are completely ignoring me about you not needing to be here… I guess I… What I try to say is-”

“Jude Duarte is babbling. Gods, now I’m intrigued.” He breathed, propping himself on his elbows.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head elusively. It was humiliating how easy it was for him to put her on edge. “Shut up will you? You can’t stay on the couch, it’s small and uncomfortable… And I, well, I happen to own a double bed.” 

Smooth, girl, smooth.

“Trying to lure me into your bed? So soon?” He teased, flashing her a smile, yet his joke didn’t reach his eyes. Something in them was different, they were wider, intense.

“You’re intentionally being an asshole.” She said, gritting her teeth. This time his tricky words and good looks wouldn’t affect her. She couldn’t allow it. “I just meant that we can both sleep there. Like, as far away as the bed allows but at least you could rest.”

For a second he just looked at her. Not mocking or rude, she couldn’t place the expression in his face. His jaw set, chest raising and falling slowly. “You don’t have to, Jude. I’m ok in here.”

“Don’t lie. Besides I’d feel better too. Not because- Ugh, I’d feel better knowing that I could at least make your staying more bearable, I guess.” That wasn’t so bad. Yet. And honestly she couldn’t tell if it was worse if he accepted, or refused. 

Back in her room an awkward silence filled the atmosphere as both laid side to side. Somehow, even if they were not touching, Jude could feel the heat of his skin. Her heart hammered so fast she swore he could listen to it.

“So…” He started.

Panic filled her senses, she needed to cut any conversation before saying or doing something she’d regret later. “There’s no need to mention it, just go to sleep… please.” She rolled onto her side, facing away from Cardan. “Good night.”

Jude barely heard him sigh. “Sweet dreams, Jude.”

~

It was hot. Really really hot. Fuck he couldn’t move. How much had he drank last night?

Wait. No, last night he didn’t go out with Locke. He’d said he would spend the weekend with his girlfriend, at least this month’s. Cardan had stopped mocking him for it long ago. 

Eyes still closed, he grimaced and tried to stretch but something held down his arm. As Cardan became more and more aware of his body, the memories of the day before flashed in his mind. The failed meeting with Jude, the flowers he’d spend almost an hour choosing, her body going limp against him, the useless doctor… Jude offering him her bed to sleep.  

That’s when something tickled his neck, startling him. 

No, not something.

Cardan’s eyes snapped open, he looked down and froze when he realized Jude’s body was pressed flush against him, one of her hands resting on his chest. Somehow their legs impossibly tangled. Terrified, he found his own arm encircling her waist, bare skin touching his fingers since her too big shirt had rolled up in her sleep.  

She shifted a little and her nose brushed his neck again, letting out a small breath that sent hot shivers down his body.

Any knowledge of how to move or think completely forgotten. He stared blankly at the ceiling. 

Fuck fuck fuck shit what the fucking fucks. 

[365days365movies]

May 6, 2021: The Martian (2015) (Recap: Part One)

We’re leaving lo-fi sci-fi, people. Kind of.

I mentioned before that films like Her are what I define as “lo-fi sci-fi”, which is a category that I’ve kind of made up. Basically, it’s the science fiction version of low fantasy, meaning it contains science fiction themes contained within an otherwise contemporary setting. In the case of Her, Joaquin Phoenix’s character, along with many others, live in a world and setting basically like ours, but with technology advanced enough to generate AIs (like Siri) that are intelligent enough to actually ascend our reality. Because we live in a society.

You give me Joaquin Phoenix, I’m gonna make a Joker reference; it’s in the contract of my existence. Anyway, that is admittedly kind of broad, right? I mean, that has the capability of crossing over with a BUNCH of sci-fi genres and themes. And, considering that we’ve already seen magic, speculative technology, time travel, monsters, and artificial intelligence, we’ve already touched on quite a bit.

And with science fiction, the sky’s the limit. Literally. So, I think it behooves us to re-examine lo-fi sci-fi a little bit. Specifically, we should note that it can also be defined as an extension of currently existing technologies and possibilities. Writers would call this “speculative sci-fi”, assuming in this case that it’s set within the present or a near and attainable future. Her definitely fits in this category, as does Westworld. But, let’s crossover to another genre by speculating upon another possibility. And it begins with this man. Probably.

Hey, Elon, what’s up? Now, Mr. Musk here is a...controversial figure, for COMPLETELY understandable reasons. Instead of touch upon the man himself, I feel like touching upon one of his recent focuses: space travel. With SpaceX and the various upcoming space trips and journeys that they’re planning, Musk has made it clear that he plans to shoot to the Moon. Again, literally.

In fact, this full plan is to go even further than that, and to fuel potential commercial space flights in the future, which is admittedly very cool. And of course, if you’re going to shoot for the Moon...

Guys...guys, that’s Mars. THAT’S FUCKING MARS

Is that not amazing? We have sound and pictures from FUCKING MARS! THAT’S A DIFFERENT PLANET, GODDAMN IT! It’s cooler than I have the ability to properly express, but it IS goddamn cool. And this means that, easily within my lifetime, we could (and likely will) land on Mars. Which is amazing. God, I really want to see that happen.

And so, landing on Mars is BARELY science fiction, but since we haven’t yet done so...yeah, it’s fictional at the moment. And so, any film about landing on Mars falls within this category. Well...to an extent.

2000′s Mission to Mars, for example, was a Disney-funded film (to my IMMENSE surprise; and it’s based off of an old Disney World ride, WHAT), and a movie that I saw a LOT when I was a kid. I also barely remember it, to be honest. But that film is straight-up science fiction because of, well...aliens. The idea of Martians is, as far as we know it, fictional. And most fiction involving Mars includes these aliens somehow. Whether it’s DC Comics’ entire civilization of Martians, as seen in Justice League, Supergirl, or Young Justice...

...Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s heavily mythologized civilization, as seen in the Barsoom series of novels (and another Disney film)...

...Or one of the best Looney Tunes characters.

Mmm. Yes. Isn’t that lovely?

But, yeah, Mars and aliens go hand-in-hand in our media. So, to properly look at lo-fi science and speculative science fiction in relation to the Red Planet, we’ll need a movie that goes to the planet, and doesn’t touch upon the concept of aliens AT ALL.

Enter...Ridley Scott?

Yeah, the director of Legend, Alien, Thelma and Louise, Blade Runner, Gladiator. Also the director of Kingdom of Heaven, Prometheus, Exodus: Gods and Kings, and...ugh, 1492: Conquest of Paradise. I’ve talked about his mixed record before, in my Recap of Legend right here.

In 2014, he was brought on to adapt a book by Andy Weir called The Martian, which is a great book! I’ve listened to the audio book, and I whole-heartedly recommend doing that. And because of that, I am VERY MUCH looking forward to watching this film, especially seeing as it’s often called one of the best science fiction films made during that year, and was critically acclaimed then and now. It got seven Oscar nominations (although it won none of them), amongst other awards. So, enough navel-gazing, huh? The Martian!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

On Acidalia Plantitia, at the landing site of the Ares III mission, a group of scientists are gathering samples. These scientists are commander and geologist Melissa Lewis (Jessica Chastain), pilot Rick Martinez (Michael Pena), systems operator Beth Johanssen (Kate Mara), surgeon Chris Beck (Sebastian Stan), German chemist Alex Vogel (Aksel Hennie), and overly talkative botanist Mark Watney (Matt Damon). 

The group seems to have a good dynamic, but that dynamic is interrupted by a massive dust storm, which is large enough to cause the entire crew to evacuate. However, in the chaos of the dust storm, Mark is hit by debris and lost in the shuffle. Although Lewis goes back to find him, she can’t get to him before they need to leave, and Mark is believed dead. This is reported (pretty callously) by NASA Director Teddy Sanders (Jeff Daniels) to the press soon afterwards.

But of course, that wouldn’t be much of a movie, now would it? Mark’s alive! And Mark’s alone. With his suit damaged, and low on oxygen, he trudges back to headquarters, which is intact and still contains breathable oxygen. He gets inside, and realizes that he’s been stabbed in the abdomen by some debris. He removes it, and stitches up his own wound. Which is...god, it’s fucking BRUTAL just to think about, nevertheless watch.

Once he’s finished, he records a log for the future, if he doesn’t make it. It’s day 19 of the 31-day mission at this point, and Mark’s basically screwed. He needs lasting oxygen, water, and food, and he might need that for 4 years, when the next manned mission can come to the red planet. Additionally, he has absolutely no way to contact NASA, leaving him completely stranded. Another dust storm rolls in that night, and Mark looks over the belongings of his colleagues, packing them up for their eventual return. It’s somber, to say the least. However, Mark affirms that he’s determined not to die on the planet.

After doing the math, Mark should have enough food to last him for about 300 days, especially if he rations it. Until then, he’ll need to figure out how to grow his own food, on a planet where nothing grows. Which is, of course, going to be a difficult feat to accomplish. But Mark Watney’s a botanist with botany powers, and he’s gonna do it.

It’s day 31, and Mark’s brought in dirt from the outside, and uses the bio-waste from the crew’s stay there for a form of compost. After 5 days, mostly full of him watching Happy Days on TV and trying to farm, he realizes that he needs water, both for himself and for the soil. To do that, he goes chemical and decides to use hydrogen-laden rocket fuel, wood from Martinez’s belongings, and good old-fashioned fire to make water! And since hydrogen + oxygen = water, it should work. With a minor side-effect.

So, yeah, he blew himself up. As as he records a video log, the sound mixing makes itself impressively known by subtly and realistically generating a tinnitus sound. It’s VERY well-done, holy shit. Anyway, he makes a stable fire, and the place is soon covered in condensation, moistening the room and the soil successfully.

We get to day 54, and Mark’s planted leftover potatoes from the crew in order to grow them. And while he’s being mourned at a funeral on Earth, and in NASA, he’s seeing the fruits (or shoots) of his efforts.

Back on Earth, Mars Mission Director Vincent Kapoor (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is trying to convince Director Teddy to let him lobby for another Ares mission, despite the risk of bad press for the callousness of the proximity to Watney’s death. Meanwhile, satellite technician Mindy Park (Mackenzie Davis) looks down at the Ares III site, and realizes that the site has changed visually, meaning that Mark may actually be alive.

Shocked by this, she tells Kapoor, Teddy, and media director Annie Montrose (Kristen Wiig) about this, and they realize the absolute clusterfuck that this whole thing is. They can’t tell the other members of the Ares III crew about it, because it’d devastate them for the 10 months they have to get back to Earth, at the VERY least. They can’t tell the WORLD about this, because they just had a funeral for the guy, and they’d reveal that they left him stranded on Mars accidentally, destroying faith in the Mars Missions Program. And they can’t save Mark, who they’re sure will starve eventually. It’s a mess. And Kapoor also wonders what’s happening to Mark psychologically through all of this.

And yet, they reveal this to the world regardless, causing the clusterfuck reaction that they think it’s going to cause. But Mark’s busy on Mars, figuring out how to get to the site of the next Ares IV mission in 4 years, at the Schiaparelli crater about 50 days travel away. This is a struggle, as his Rover has only so much power and fuel, and he can only get more power by cutting out the heater is risking death by freezing. So, problems. However, he figures out a potential solution: radioactive isotopes! In a move that is, let’s face it, COMPLETELY INSANE, he digs up a radioactive generator from the ship in order to heat the ship.

On Earth, they try to figure out Mark’s moves, as well as how to resupply Ares IV sooner for Mark’s benefit. This is with the director of JPL, Bruce Ng (Benedict Wong), and the flight director of the ship Hermes, Mitch Henderson (Sean Bean), who insists that they tell the Ares II crew. They continue to monitor Mark, and note that he’s been travelling for 17 days in his Rover towards something. Kapoor figures it out, and flies to California.

See, Mark needs a way to contact NASA, and he believes that the way to do so is through Pathfinder, the first probe ever sent to Mars in 1997, lasting for 9 months since landing until they lost contact. Mark digs it up, and the people at JPL in California start their own efforts for contact. And despite communication being extremely rudimentary, initially limited to yes/no questions that use a still-frame camera, it fucking WORKS! WHOO!

To boost this communication hurdle, the two camps figure out a hexadecimal system for communication, allowing them to communicate using a circular table of numbers that represent an alphabet. That allows them to teach Mark to hack into the Rover, allowing it to piggyback off of its broadcast signal and send them messages via keyboard. Nice! Now that communication is reasonably possible, Mark’s able to ask how the crew is handling his death. But upon learning that they haven’t told him. He’s understandably a little goddamn enraged. And so, they FINALLY tell the Ares III crew about this.

The news breaks the crew, even though Mark continues to stress that he’s all right, and that it wasn’t their fault. Meanwhile, Mark’s able to survive for 912 days with his potato plants, and things improve with the help of technicians on Earth. They plan to launch a supply rocket to him in the next year, and things are looking fine! Unless, of course...something goes horribly HORRIBLY wrong.

Well...fuck. Good place to pause for Part Two, then?

[recurring-polynya]

Request: RenRuki; Mad Scientist!Renji shocks Frankenstein Monster!Rukia with electricity to test the endurance of Mikasa's heart

I am not quite sure who you mean by Mikasa-- I am guessing either Masaki or Hisana? I really enjoy making Renji into Byakuya’s beleaguered minion in any universe, and I was extremely charmed by the idea of the latter, so that’s what I went with. I supposed this is a little less “Mad Scientist” and a little more Ticked-Off Postdoc, but a crumbling castle on a moonswept cliff? In this economy??

CW: Some detailed discussion of building a monster out of body parts. It’s not intended to be scary or gross, but just wanted to be on the safe side.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🧪   🧠   ⚡

I should have finished my dissertation, Abarai Renji thought to himself, irritably rubbing at the nicotine patch under the collar of his shirt.

Education-in-perpetuum was a rich kid’s game, though, and when he’d had to choose between a paying entry-level gig at Kuchiki Biotech or a continued monk-like existence grading freshman papers and scrubbing out the autoclave, he’d followed the money. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, working in industry. Eating food that didn’t come with a seasoning packet, living in an apartment that had both heating and air-conditioning, the indescribable luxury of a monthly transit pass. Yeah, it stung a little when Kira and Hinamori sent selfies of themselves at that conference in Berlin, and later, in their stupid graduation get-ups, but after seven years of working his ass off, of being on time every day, of covering his ink and minding his manners, Renji had been noticed by Kuchiki Byakuya himself, the reclusive CEO of the company.

“You were a student of Dr. Aizen Sousuke?” Kuchiki had asked, his cold grey eyes skipping past Renji’s carefully knotted tie and spotless lab coat to linger on his bandana and the cover-up smudges that protruded from beneath it. “The cephalopod neurophysicist?”

“That’s correct.”

“His work on artificial chromatophores was stunning.”

Right. That.

“Er, the camouflage stuff wasn’t my area of interest, but I have a couple of friends in that area if you’re--”

“You studied nervous system regeneration. But you did not graduate.”

Renji had tried not to look surprised, because his supervisor had warned him that Byakuya liked to try and surprise people and then judge them for being surprised. Byakuya had probably just dug up his resume from HR prior to this interview. “That’s right. Well. About the nervous system thing. I did graduate, just, y’know, ABD. That’s not even true, I wrote about half a dissertation. Maybe two-thirds.” His mouth snapped shut. Kuchiki Byakuya definitely did not want to hear about his two-thirds of a dissertation.

“I read your article in the Journal of Zoological Neuroscience, the one about using a donor octopus brain to reanimate a dead specimen? I assume you wrote it. You were listed as second author, but it was not rife with Dr. Aizen’s usual bloviations. It was excellent work.”

Renji had failed in his attempts to keep from looking surprised.

“I am starting a special project that could use a man of your expertise. Dr. Shirogane spoke well of your time here, and felt that you were ready to take on the role of primary investigator.” Byakuya looked at his extremely expensive watch, as though he were already getting bored of this meeting. “It is a small project, a one-man project, and I am afraid it will not produce any sort of publishable results. In fact, I will require you to sign a number of non-disclosure agreements, should you accept. But it is a very important project to me, personally.”

Renji could still remember the excitement, the feel of his heart stuttering in his chest. He imagined telling Kira and Hinamori about the personal project he was doing for the wealthiest biotech entrepreneur in Japan. He felt smart. He felt important. He felt like industry was finally paying off for him.

Two days later, he found out that this project involved grave-robbing.

It turned out that Kuchiki was a widower. His wife had been a kind, beautiful angel who had died of complications from cystic fibrosis at the tender age of 34. Despite everything, her heart has been very strong at the time of her death. So Kuchiki kept it, y’know, like a normal person. And then he found one of his employees, a guy with big muscles and no family and a lot of student debt, and asked him to make a new body to put that heart in.

That was three years ago. Since then, Renji had acquired his own sub-basement laboratory and a used pick-up truck. He had a lot of middle-of-the-night meetings with Kuchiki, where he got used to delivering absolutely deranged progress reports in a calm and conversational tone. He’d taken up smoking again, but then he had to quit because Kuchiki didn’t like the smell. He stopped seeing most of his old friends, in favor of his fabulous new friends, like Isane, the nervous assistant mortician at the hospital, and Hisagi, who worked down at the funeral home and drove a hearse like it was a Shelby Cobra. His new best drinking buddy was a guy named Akon, who worked over at Kurosutchi Heavy Industries and was building some sort of cyborg daughter for his creepy boss.

And now he had her.

Maybe she’ll turn out to be better than a dissertation, Renji thought, contemplating the girl-thing floating in an antifreeze bath in his sub-basement lab.

She was small, in part because the original Hisana had been small, but also because regrowing the nervous system had been the hardest part, and the less he had to grow, the better.

At first, he’d put a fair amount of effort into making her look like Hisana, but Byakuya never seemed to give a shit about stuff like that, so Renji started to take a few liberties here and there. An athlete’s limbs (well, more like three different athlete’s limbs) gave her a lean and powerful build, instead of the wispy slenderness of her predecessor. He’d been very picky about the eyes, but his patience had paid off when he scored a stunning pair from Ishida, a bitter med student who had a part time job in the university’s dissection sample acquisition department. They were deep blue, nearly verging on purple, like a starless sky. Renji wasn’t very good at suturing at first, and the big, clunky stitches that held her mismatched parts together were a little jarring. Renji had come to rather like them, though. She wasn’t a perfect, flawless angel. She was a pile of lost potential, cobbled together and given a second chance, and he liked that she wore that openly on her skin. If she didn’t like it, well, he could always offer to take her down to his tattoo place.

The only thing Byakuya had objected to was the brain.

It was a criminal’s brain, or at least that’s what Byakuya said. The brain had belonged to a teen girl who’d been caught shoplifting, and in her attempt to make a break for it, darted into traffic. It was extremely fresh, though. The girl died in the hospital and Isane called him right away. By the time Byakuya even found out about it, Renji already had the brain nestled in among the little baby human-octopus hybrid nervous system he’d been growing, so there was nothing to be done. Renji had assured Byakuya it would be fine, she wasn’t going to remember anything about her old life anyway. He did not mention that he’d done a fair bit of petty theft in his youth, and he’d turned out… well. Never mind.

He’d turned out to be an insane person, actually. A person who flaunted the rules of ethics and nature. He was an actual, real-life, mad scientist (ABD). Well, assuming all this worked.

In the morning, Byakuya was expecting a demonstration. The demonstration. The part where Renji pulled a lever and sent enough voltage surging through that precious little Kuchiki heart to bring Byakuya’s new sister to life.

He’d run and re-run all the individual organ tests. Reviewed his check list three times. Read and re-read all his notes. It was either going to work, or it wasn’t. If it worked, he was a genius, a mastermind. Kuchiki would give him a pat on the back and a big bonus and he was also going to start addressing Renji as Doctor Abarai, dissertation be damned.

If it failed, Renji was going to be lugging his belongings to the curb in a cardboard box.

It was now 2:16am.

If he went home, he’d just stare at the ceiling for four hours, but at least he would be able to shower before he had to face his moment of doom.

You could just do it, he realized. Pull the lever. Pull it right now.

Byakuya would be pissed, of course, he wanted to be there for the Big Shock, but if it worked, he’d be so happy to have a living, breathing, undead sister that he’d probably overlook Renji jumping the gun. If it didn’t work, Renji would have those four hours to troubleshoot.

The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. He honestly wasn’t real sure what kind of mental capabilities, if any, his monster girl was going to have. If she woke up spitting and clawing, he was okay with that, but Byakuya might not take it so well. Yeah, it definitely made good sense to give her a boot up now, so there were no surprises in the morning.

Renji stood up, and strode over to the portable generator he’d rigged up over the weekend. His hand hovered over the switch. He was gonna do it.

No.

In a minute.

He walked back over to the cold tank and plopped down in the chair sitting next to it, where he often sat when he had Serious Thinking to do. She floated serenely an inch under the liquid, her pale skin tinted blue, her hair floating in a cloud around her face. The cold was necessary to keep her organs in stasis, and it’s not like she could feel it, but he felt a little bad about it anyway.

“Hey, there,” he said softly. “It’s me. Renji. We’ve been through a lot, you and me. I’m gonna turn you on, in a minute. I’m not sure how it’s gonna go. I’ve been kind of a screw-up my whole life, but you seem pretty perfect, so may we’ll even each other out.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “Another guy is gonna come by in the morning. He’s rich and powerful and has, like 17 cars. He’s gonna be your brother, and if you can be a convincing enough person, he’s gonna treat you like his sister and you’ll be set for life. But I want you to know that even if you’re a failure, even if you try to eat my face or something, that I always liked you. Hopefully, I’ll still get to see you a lot. But if not… I just wanted to let you know that I’m only giving you up ‘cause I gotta, not ‘cause I want to.” He breathed out through his nose. “Kuchiki’s probably gonna give you some flowery princess name. He’s never told me. But a while ago, I started thinking of you as ‘Rukia.’ I don’t really know where it came from. I think it means ‘light.’ So if you don’t like whatever name he gives you, you always got that one to fall back on.” He slapped his knees and stood up. “Enough of this! It’s time for you to get up.”

Once again, Renji stood, gripping the on switch in one sweaty hand. “Here goes nothing,” he declared, and flipped it.

First, there was a hum, which gradually raised in pitch until his ears rang. The needle on the voltage gauge climbed steadily. A few wisps of Renji’s hair began to stand on end. Rukia’s body bucked.

And then, with a loud crack, all the lights went out. Fuck.

Of all the things he had double and triple checked, the power supply to the generator had not been one of them. Renji groaned, and scrolled through his phone, trying to find the damn flashlight app. He only had 6% battery, which meant it was going to last about sixteen seconds. Fortunately, his lab was on an isolated circuit, so hopefully, he hadn’t knocked out power anywhere else in the building.

He had his phone pointed the wrong way when he turned the app on, and it immediately blinded him. “Ah, shit!” he exclaimed.

As he was blinking the stars out of his eyes, he heard a splash and he realized that he might have actually managed to bring Rukia to life before the generator died. He dashed over to the bath frantically. If she tried to get her own oxygen mask off, she might drown. Renji scanned liquid with his flashlight, but it was murky with bubbles. He couldn’t see anything. Had she sunk down to the bottom? He was practically leaning over the tank when he felt a hand on his arm that was so frigid that it burned, even through his lab coat and the shirt beneath it.

Slowly, Renji panned his already-dimming flashlight around, keeping it pointed at the floor, in part, so he didn’t blind her as he had himself, and in part because… well, because…

“Hi,” he said, as a pale face swam into view.

“Hi,” she repeated in the exact same inflection.

She could talk. She had speech, or at least repetition abilities. Renji wanted desperately to take notes, but he was frozen. “How do you feel?” he asked.

Those big, dark blue eyes blinked at him. “Cold,” Rukia replied.

[radramblog]

Radiohead Retrospective Part 4: We’ve got heads on sticks

Your name is Thom Yorke. You’ve just released what is considered one of the best albums of the 90s, if not of all time, and you’ve achieved a level of fame that at least one band member considers akin to the Beatles. Through the release of OK Computer, you’ve proven that even if people are pretty much over Oasis at this point, British rock bands still rule the airwaves. You’re also stressed the fuck out over just about all of this, and having a very hard time accustoming to the life of a celebrity- let alone the usual mental health issues.

What will you do?

Apparently, the answer was to write the fourth album to be as far away from the previous few as possible, seeking influence from IDM groups like Aphex Twin, jazz stuff, and just some bizarro instruments and experimentation and leaving a lot of the “rock” stuff behind. The primary genre listed for Kid A is usually Electronica or Ambient, with various off-kilter rock subgenres lagging behind, crying “you’re still gonna do guitars and stuff, right?”

Well…not as much anymore. But this era of Radiohead, this career-suicidal swerve, still proved monumentally successful, and showed that the band still had it, and that sometimes artistic risks do pay dividends.

A side note: I usually link music videos for the tracks I discuss as part of each post, as you’ll have seen in previous parts of this series. Kid A, however, doesn’t have any singles, and it sure doesn’t have any music videos. So…maybe just listen yourself. I’m probably in over my head here anyway.

I think the first 5 notes of Everything In Its Right Place are some of the most iconic in all of music.

Some personal background- Kid A was the first Radiohead I ever listened to. A particular cool and good mate of mine was a fan in high school, but I’d never listened to them at all, and I trusted his opinion musically, so I went to buy one of their CDs the next time I was at the shop. And for whatever reason, the cheapest one was Kid A at 10 bucks, and I didn’t want to gamble more than that, so that’s the one I got.

So the opening notes of Everything In Its Right Place were the first Radiohead I ever heard. And considering how much I obsessed over this band, in high school and beyond, it’s no surprise that this song is one of my favourites.

Not only did this song introduce me to Radiohead, it was effectively a gateway track for electronic music in general. This was the early 10s, and the majority of what I knew as electronic stuff was the EDM that was drowning the airwaves at the time. I hated that stuff out of principle, because being a hipster like that was definitely a personality. I don’t think I would ever have gotten into Vaporwave, into IDM, or into any electronic music the way I eventually would were it not for Everything In Its Right Place.

Now that I’ve spent 250 words talking about myself and not the actual song, we should probably stop that. Everything In Its Right Place is defined by this steady build of layering vocals and effects onto the relatively calm synth line, distorted vocals and word salad lyrics and manipulated noises growing and getting more chaotic before it just stops- the vocals fade out, the effects drop, and you’re left with the synth line- except it’s been slowly changing itself the whole time, and you don’t realise because you’ve been distracted by everything else at the same time.

It’s worth noting (and I don’t know if this was the case with OK Computer, because I don’t have an original copy of that one) that this was an album without liner notes, without the lyrics in the cover booklet. But at least in this case, the lyrics don’t matter as much as the v i b e. At least, that’s what I think.

On the topic of unintelligible lyrics, Kid A has a title track! I believe literally two Radiohead albums do this, the other being The Bends (though Hail to the Thief and In Rainbows do appear as lyrics). The song itself is an ambient, quiet piece that feels something like a twisted nursery tune- incredibly affected vocals, a syncopated (?) percussion, and a synth (I think???) that…I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels nursery-rhyme-y. If you’ve heard this song a few times, or you know what to listen for, you can piece together the lyrics somewhat- and they are, frankly, kind of unsettling. What is standing in the shadows at the end of your bed, can it please leave? And imagery of the Pied Piper is always either extremely silly or extremely unnerving, with this clearly leaning towards the latter. There’s a lot going on here- especially for a track most probably wouldn’t listen to outside the context of the full album. I know I generally don’t- not the kind of thing I generally am in the mood for.

 We’re at 850+ words, and we’re only up to The National Anthem? Fuuuuck. Well, anyone who wasn’t on board the IDM train can at least appreciate this one more, it’s got an actual bassline. A killer one, at that, that drives the whole track. Well, you know, that and the B R A S S. Seriously, it sounds like they invited a marching band to this bad boy. The combination ends up sounding mostly like controlled chaos, a jazz band traffic jam wound together by that B A S S. But the bass can’t hold it forever, and eventually that shit breaks free and just, it just honks all over the place.

I’m frustratingly running out of things to say about this song I really like, as opposed to the other songs I really liked. Unfortunately, ya boi forgot to take his neurotypicalification pills today, and so I’m getting very distracted. Hopefully, that slightly unhinged nature suits the album somewhat.

The next song, How To Disappear Completely, is a Big Mood with a fun story attached. The main lyrics- I’m not here, this isn’t happening- were allegedly something none other than Michael Stipe from R.E.M. told Thom to help him deal with that massive stage fright that came with Getting Big. Fun trivia aside, this song is gorgeous, luscious with massive strings, an acoustic bend, aethereal vocals, and a background drone running through the thing that makes sure your hair is always a little on end through the thing. It’s a song whose lyrics are an attempt to escape anxiety, whose instrumentation serves more to reinforce it- a calm, melodic piece that builds into nervous swells and threatening strings. A song about fighting your fear, and losing.

Fuck me it’s a bit depressing isn’t it. It’s potentially the most emotionally revealing song the album has- a lot of the lyricism on other tracks is more metaphorical, or subtle, but the meaning in How To Disappear Completely is evident even just from the title. You get lost in the strings and they go from calming, to imposing, to downright menacing (and then back again) in the song’s final minute.

Treefingers, on the other hand, has a lot less to say, and by that I mean it’s an instrumental. A very atmospheric, ambient one, and thereby one I don’t have a lot to say about. I’m not sure I’m particularly good at commenting on regular music, but this kinda thing is a whole different animal. I have no idea how to interact with discussing this. I like it? I will say, that one note right at the end, that echoes for a bit, the one piece of clarity in this muddled, reverbed sphere, feels especially poignant, for reasons I cannot describe.

We go from ambient instrumental to arguable the most rock-song-like track on this album, Optimistic, certified banger that it is. Some might argue that it doesn’t fit here, but like, did they even hear the lyrics? The bridge? It more that deserves its place on one of the best albums around. The little way the guitar scales up during the chorus is excellent, the proggy drums and riffs are glorious, it’s just a very good rock song.

Also this is the first song with the lyric “dinosaurs roaming the earth”, which, aside from being a bit of a non-sequitur, would return two albums later. And I’m really looking forward to that one.

In Limbo is a song I kind of always forget exists until I hear it again. It’s antimemetic, the way the song goes slipping from my mind until I hear those opening notes again. I’m going to be honest, it’s probably because it’s also the most mid song on the album. Far from bad, but it isn’t doing anything that How to Disappear Completely or Optimistic aren’t doing better. If I had to remove any track from this album, it might be this one?

Watch me get fucking lynched from the fandom for that one, if I ever post this to r/Radiohead or whatever. Which I might, though as much as I’d like more people to read my things I’m also extremely anxious about the potential response. Like the album I’m discussing today, I’m terrified of fame.

Incidentally, In Limbo is also the shortest track on the album (Treefingers beats it by 11 seconds), though this isn’t initially obvious online at least, because people keep messing with Motion Picture Soundtrack. But we’re not there yet, hang on.

We go from the forgettable (to me) In Limbo to the utterly mesmerizing Idioteque. Anxious but danceable, confusing but emotive, messy but tightly controlled. I love this fucking song to death. The reason I got the particular Radiohead poster that I did was because it has lyrics from this on it.

I’ve heard that lyrics for this album were largely pulled from a hat, and nowhere is that more clear than here (or maybe Everything In Its Right Place). Despite this, there’s a pretty clear theme in them, a continuation of some of the themes of this and the last albums. A condemnation of wealth and cowardice in the face of ecological disaster. In the form of an apocalypse disco.

What a lot of people don’t know about this track is that it actually samples an extremely old electronic music piece- one written in 1973, on a particularly old computer. The track, mild und leise, is a very interesting track considering its age- I’m reminded of Selected Ambient Works by Aphex Twin- not so much musically, but about how that reason was as influential as it was because it was the first time songs had sounded like that, because it was the first time songs could sound like that- I suppose it’s somewhat similar in that way, if older. These pieces and their composers inexorably linked by the allure of technology, and how that could be used to define new eras in music history- in Radiohead’s case, it certainly defined the next few albums in their lifespan.

Jesus mild und leise is long, it’s still going as I write this. I need to get back to Kid A, man!

Idioteque leads directly into Morning Bell, admittedly another less memorable song. Largely percussion lead, plenty of falsetto, and with a very unsubtle theme if you listen to the lyrics. I recall seeing someone saying that “cut the kids in half” was a really surprising and spooky line, and, yeah, sure, it sort of is, but it’s only particularly bad if you don’t pay attention for the rest of it. It’s about divorce, dude, it’s not subtle.

Or apparently not, according to one interview, but Thom said the interpretation isn’t invalid, so haha still winning baybeeeee.

I think the only part of this I really can’t do without is the outro, because the last minute and a half of this song is really cool. The mumbled lyrics go really well with the rising percussion and eerie effects that end the track.

Our final song is Motion Picture Soundtrack, or, Exit Music (for Walt Disney’s Depression Nap). This and Street Spirit I think are what really cement Radiohead’s reputation for brutal closers, both of them being tragic but hauntingly beautiful in different ways. In this case, it’s the instrumentation- glittering harps attempting the echo 50s Disney. There’s actually a version of this song from the OK Computer era with extremely different instrumentation, piano rather than organ, and no harps (and a third verse that is utterly brutal). Regardless, this is the song they chose to close the apocalypse that Kid A is on- the final lyric being “I will see you in the next life”, as the glittering echoes into the night. Poignant and tragic, but a little hopeful- the next life hopefully won’t have the struggles and pain of this one.

And then, of course, there’s the hidden track. Nicknamed Genchildren by some (that’s just the username of the dude who uploaded it to Napster back in the day), officially known as Untitled, and the true closer to the album. With Spotify slapping it right at the end of Motion Picture Soundtrack, it’s not clear the true nature of this song- it’s actually hidden on the original album, after several minutes of silence, just long enough that you’ve forgotten you left the player running (or you’re still crying from Motion Picture Soundtrack). I don’t think there’s a real word for what this sounds like other than heavenly, and incredibly brief piece I’ve heard compared to the pearly gates. After all, if we end on “I will see you in the next life”, then what can this be but that?

 Thus closes Kid A, a gorgeous and powerful album, yet an insane swerve for any rock band to pull, not just Radiohead. A bold strategy, and yet it paid off for them- Kid A would not only be massively influential, it was also massively successful both critically and commercially- but not to the standard of OK Computer before it. But they obviously weren’t trying to do OK Computer part 2, just as that album was deliberately not The Bends part 2.

Kid A would pretty much get a Part 2, though, less than a year later. And it’s that album we’ll be discussing next week, obviously. Until then.