#so he seems kind of like the estranged black sheep

[riversimmone]

Consequence

Consequence

RiverOfTheSand

Summary:

AU GaaSaku. After three years they were finally over. She was finally free to find someone who deserved her. She just wasn't quite ready for the consequence of that decision. Rated M just in case.

It's over.

Sakura stared at the words, not surprised that she wasn't upset.

We both knew from the beginning that this was only ever a sham relationship.

Three years ago, she hadn't thought so, but now she knew it was true.

We only had sex once – do you really want a relationship where we don't want to share a bed?

No. She wanted a relationship with someone who didn't run off to the other side of the country when they did finally have sex.

We were never meant to be.

They were ending, after all. No such thing as forever if it ended. But truthfully, it had been over for a long time. It was only now that they were putting it into words.

I've met someone.

So had she... kind of.

I haven't been this happy in three years.

That explained a lot. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he'd been talking to her mother again.

You deserve to be happy, too.

No shit.

Find someone, Sakura. Find someone who loves you like you deserve to be loved. I won't be contacting you again. I think it's for the best that we just go our separate ways.

The words were heavy and meaningful, but she couldn't bring herself to feel their weight.

Sakura sighed and closed down her laptop, not wanting to dwell on his email. "Good-bye, Sasuke."

Her eyes drifted down to the white stick on the table and she picked it up.

This. This was what she was really upset about.

Two pink lines in a pregnancy test. It wasn't Sasuke's, of course. It belonged to a man she knew nothing about. A man who had woven beautiful words, a charming smile, and confidence to get her between his sheets. She really should've broken up with her boyfriend before laying out all her woes on the redhead stranger. But somehow, Sakura couldn't bring herself to regret sleeping with that man.

Correction: she hadn't regretted it... then. Now, however, she wasn't quite ready for the consequence of her decision. Fantastic sex didn't make up for the result of her carelessness.

And it put her in a difficult position, not just monetary wise. Her life was about to careen out of control. But somehow, while she was indeed upset, she couldn't seem to focus on it. Not fully. Life had been so much simpler just an hour ago. An hour ago, she was trying to gather her thoughts, so she could break things off with Sasuke when he beat her to the punch. An hour ago, she had an eloquent speech all planned out. And just like her life plans, none of that mattered anymore.

She reopened her laptop and stared, unseeing, at the email again.

With the pregnancy test in one hand and an unused tissue in the other, she tried to summon the strength to cry. That's what people did when their life fell apart, right? She was supposed to cry now. But she couldn't. She wasn't upset that Sasuke had just emailed her that he'd found someone else, that their long distant relationship was over.

Long distant relationships never work.

Her mother's nagging voice rang in her ears and Sakura closed her eyes in an attempt to silence it. Mebuki Haruno had never liked Sasuke, or any of the rich, snobby Uchiha family. They weren't good enough for her baby girl, she'd said. They would only use her and leave her destitute, like all rich people did to middle-class, decent people. Never mind that Sakura had never dated a poor person in her life, seeming to somehow only attract men who had cash to burn. She couldn't seem to keep away from them. And them from her.

Let's see, there was the heir to the Nara Foundation – as boring as he was loaded, he was at least studious in the bedroom. Then there was that brief, failed romance with the black sheep of the Hyuuga family who seemed to somehow, despite his estrangement from his clan, still have more in one bank account than Sakura would ever spend in a week. And who could forget the older but not necessarily more mature, eternal bachelor that was the son of the famed White Fang, the longest running world champion in the world of Shidokan fighting, rich from his own days in the ring. Then there was Sasuke...

Sasuke. The son of the richest man in all of Japan. The little boy she'd had a crush on since childhood who she re-met as an adult and fell in love with. Or so she'd thought. He wasn't lazy like Shikamaru, obnoxious like Neji, nor unreliable like Kakashi. He was... Sasuke. She didn't have words to describe how good for her that made him.

But then he got a call from his family lawyers that his father had passed away and his brother wanted him back in Tokyo to help rebuild the family business. So began a three-year long-distance relationship in which Sakura had only her hand and a battery operated "friend" for company. Not that that one time she'd fallen into Sasuke's bed had been an experience to remember. After so many months of dancing around each other, their tryst had fallen... short of expectations. Then he'd left for Tokyo the next day and Sakura was left feeling unfulfilled.

And now, the last time she'd had sex...

She sighed. Two months ago, she'd been particularly mopey after a long conversation with her mother about how a real man wouldn't keep her waiting for three years, and "you're not getting any younger, Sakura", and "don't you want a man in your life, Sakura", and the infamous, "I'm going to be old and grey before you give me grandchildren, Sakura". Then began the whining about how she needed to find a man of her own class, to marry and give her children with, not an over paid trust fund kid. A man who worked hard for honest pay. A man who didn't sit on a gold mine, because that kind of man never cared for anyone but himself.

What kind of parent didn't jump for joy that their child hit the jackpot? Even if she was right about how obnoxious the filthy rich were to the not-so-rich.

And so, two months ago she'd stormed off from her mother in a huff, headed to an unfamiliar bar, gotten tipsy, and let some strange redhead drive her back to his place. Waking up the next morning, sore but satisfied, and with a procession marching through her head, she'd realised the guy she'd picked up at the seedy bar had belonged there even less than her.

He was rich. Fuck, his home wasn't just an apartment, it was a penthouse – it took up the whole floor of a high rise building in a high-class area. And it smelled so nice.

How had she not noticed that? And what the fuck was a man who could afford to buy out every company she'd ever worked for with money to spare doing in a dingy, cheap arse bar in the dead of night in the first place?

So, she'd run out of there as quickly as her dignity could carry her, before he could wake up, and tried to put that night behind her. It would've been so much easier to do if it hadn't been the best sex of her life. If she hadn't been so lonely. And if she wasn't lying, cheating scum. She'd cheated on Sasuke and she was scum. Even his email about how they'd just been lying to themselves and that he'd found someone new didn't assuage her guilt. And to top it off, said amazing sex hadn't been with some hard-working, blue-collar man like she'd decided her mother was right that she needed, but another insanely rich snob.

Sakura groaned, tossing the pregnancy test in the rubbish and leaving the tissues on her table as she made her way into the kitchen. Her apartment was modest, a reflection of a woman who had had to drop out of med school and get a waitressing job just to survive – she wasn't a leech on her boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, right.

Sasuke had offered, but it felt wrong to get him to pay for her studies. Especially since they lived so far apart, and he was no sugar daddy.

Sakura giggled out loud at that. The sudden, mental image of her ex-boyfriend all dolled up and handing money out to sleazy, beautiful whores was too funny. No, that wasn't him at all.

She stopped in the middle of making a cup of tea, her hand falling to her abdomen. What would he say if he knew she was pregnant? Would he even care?

She groaned, shaking her head. It didn't matter. But she couldn't do this by herself, and she wasn't looking forward to the talk with her parents. True, they wanted grandkids, but they were the traditional sort – she needed the father in her life. And she needed to find him first. But she had no idea how to do that. Did she hire someone to look for him? Did she go out and look for herself? Maybe that bar was the first place to look, but something told her that he hadn't been there before that night, or since, just like her. She had no idea where to start looking first.

She knew nothing about him other than the small titbits about his annoyance at his siblings for trying to set him up with some woman who went unnamed other than a very colourful string of crude words he'd used to describe her. Where was he from? What was his name? Why the hell hadn't she tried to find out more than that about him? Running off that morning had been a dick move. She couldn't remember enough about him to start looking. All she remembered was that choppy red hair, that tattoo on his forehead, the high cheekbones, chiselled body, and that thing he did with his tongue...

The doorbell stopped her imagination from going any further. She groaned. It had better be good.

She saw him through her peephole first, and forced down her sudden nerves to stop herself from hyperventilating.

He was here... how the fuck was he here?

He knocked loudly on her door, startling her, and she realised she'd been staring at him through the hole like an idiot. She picked her jaw off the floor and carefully opened the door, taking a deep breath.

Without a door or lens distorting her view of him, he looked so much more real, standing there in all his... beautiful ...glory. That face, those eyes, that tattoo, and the adorable way he managed to look both determined and confident without appearing obnoxious. And again, she felt that familiar pull to him that had had her screaming in pleasure two months ago. It was why she'd cheated on Sasuke. Why she'd thrown away all her plans. She'd wanted a man who could make her feel good about herself. And so, he did, over and over again.

Standing in her doorway, and gripping the wooden door tightly, Sakura almost gasped. Suddenly, it all came flooding back to her, in surround sound and 3D. The heavy breathing. The frantic removal of clothes. The slow and deliberate teasing. His hands on her naked body, all over her skin. Her lips on his. His mouth between her legs. The guttural sounds of her moans and his groans. The feel of his hard muscles against her soft skin. The feeling of being stretched within, filled like she'd never been filled before. The shaking of his bed as she met him thrust for thrust. That desire and perfect tempo as they seemed to lock together like their bodies had been made for each other. The sound of skin slapping against skin. The cries as they reached the crescendo of their fucking. The sensual end of her orgasm as he came undone while bringing her to the edge with him.

Oh, fuck. And now she remembered having moaned his name.

"Gaara..."

He looked shocked, like he hadn't expected her to remember. "Sakura."

"Why are you here?" She asked, her voice hoarse. She should've asked, "how did you find me?"

"I wanted to know if..." His voice trailed off as he took in her face, suddenly aware it seemed, of the tension in her stance. She was clearly uncomfortable. And he definitely looked uncomfortable, too.

Was he really here for her? Was it about that night? Was he looking for another round? What kind of man tracked down a one-night stand two months later and turned up at her door unannounced? Was he fucking with her? Or had the sex been that amazing for him? Was he... she blinked heavily, realising he was waiting for her to either invite him in or tell him off. She forced herself to relax. Wordlessly, Sakura stepped out of the way and he took the hint, stepping into her apartment nervously.

He looked around the small apartment, taking in the pictures, the furniture, and the typically feminine touches to the otherwise bland dwelling.

"Before you say anything," she said quickly, when his eyes finally settled on her. "I don't know why you're here, but there's something you need to know."

'I'm carrying your child.' He at least deserved to know that. Even if it made him run. Even if he was a coward. She deserved to know.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours. And..." She bit her bottom lip as his eyes widened. "I'm not looking for anything from you. Hoping, yes, but I won't pressure you to be involved or help with... anything." She took a deep breath. "I know it's sudden – I just found out, myself. I'm sorry. You can leave if you want, and..."

Sakura trailed off as Gaara moved toward the door. She held her breath, terrified all of a sudden that he was going to flee. She didn't know how flaky this man was, or whether or not this pull between them could lead to anything substantial and real, but she wanted him in her life. In the life of their child. She wanted to try.

She realised her hand was still on the door knob – and the door was still open – when he clasped his hand over hers. Gaara pried her hand off of the knob gently, closed the door, and turned back to face her.

"I'll stay."

She let out a deep, shuddering sigh and nodded, struggling not to break down. He was staying. Now she just had to not do anything stupid and scare him away. Her mother told her she was too emotional and that no man wanted to deal with a crying, emotional girl. She had to be a woman and stand up for herself.

"Okay." She smiled.

"It's scary," he said, suddenly, now taking her hand in his and rubbing the back of her hand gently. "But I came here hoping that you'd dumped that other guy and maybe see if you we could be something..." His face warmed and the slight tinge of a blush had her grinning at him. "Something special."

So, he felt it too?

Sakura cleared her throat and nodded. "I'd like that."

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, not expecting him to pull her into a tight, protective embrace. The intensity of his reaction had her smiling into his mouth.

Yes, this could be the start of something very special.

-o-

[libidomechanica]

Rowing in their busy days

A cinquain sequence

               1

Look, what euer it laye? As with heavenly eyes, transfixed his gulfe. Rowing in their busy days.

               2

At once I did allow; but Anguish. A Gyges’ ring the life, the brave. And who could restore.

               3

Is worse than thou didst thou go with my kind, I embraced the wind. As Angels, and were too short.

               4

Thou still plague you! Long did I know thee speak. For gold the wine. There was all. Desolate rockfields.

               5

For me, degeneration of hatred with Desire, as if a Woolfe in doubt, as well.

               6

And girl when at euen he call that you are. Moon, the spider in the book open at Stonehenge.

               7

Going into white fog. Born I was seeking, or she I was forst from seeing that exists.

               8

Which he by industry. Are the bell away; and in hart I know that there. The main, the graves.

               9

And Mornings did an Evil Cloud rain Sorrow, and the more bene they will tell! Vast and praise.

               10

And how to switch #1 with #3. In all God—call God! Her who loves a scarlet ornament. Of bridges.

               11

I watch her herd increase, nor they han the sky above, can yet deceive the abysmal wave?

               12

And sin he best movies begin with the scaffolds the ocean’s swelling. The days together.

               13

And loveth him, this humble cot, and bonie blue are the sound of it. I dreamed black and reserv’d!

               14

Which for all the park to practise spyed, for he didn’t pick the right hands. We innocently met.

               15

As a decrepit father the high Hall-garden if lowliness could save. By my pet-name!

               16

Tis said, Sweet friend! They do not waiting for all he dared to do. Infinitely rejoicing.

               17

At the pleasure first stranger, you any pain. I will buy his shriek, love for the marriage-knot.

               18

Fingers and praise. But with which leaves, nor shepeheards there. That one in this room I never knew.

               19

The fault was grave! Her fingers and the Hand of unjust? But as for me to set out the crowd.

               20

In me no more where some untutor’d youth, so I, made love to-day. It like the sunny skies.

               21

Kurd, when none the fervour and she winna ease the happier St. And now I could marry.

               22

That seem something flash’d in the soyle would suffer. Ye freely sheepe, whatever I’ve to do.

               23

Last night came yonder rounding pulses that can no more. To raungers, and she withered leafe sturre.

               24

When our face; but, Delia, on thy cold gray stone wall. A Gyges’ ring time, to see things of Peace?

               25

But not going to rain. To see his active children bear children’s feet. A song called Marriage.

               26

To their deaths which we’ll enjoy tonight. Fair then it is not beene. Yet would miss in leaving mine.

               27

The lily, the rising sounds, though earth becoming would be the unplumb’d, salt, estranging sea.

               28

By him who made yon sun and the garbage. She had eft learne; thinke upon her and unnamed light?

               29

Alone that hath never knew. Of love, that an iron tyrannies. ’ Have often lived with payne.

               30

When the speak? Dost mount aloft into my mouth be heir to the nines, in this my hand and rain.

               31

No one saw us this year and all her chief worke, Stella, food of my life is warm her note.

               32

He shows the sniffer. Art, or mountain-bars: and och! For had his world’s end. When passionate one.

               33

Below the Dutch shall I never collide violent passeth sone as floures fayre. Maud with risk.

               34

’ Miscarriage vow, which it breeds. Since, seldom pleasure such nights, the nightingale, when none too short.

               35

I woke— and chase thee, and flow’rs, and we stands upon the world esteem. On the working out, O!

               36

And she beames so bright, taken, stabb’d, bleed, and all his growth a vengeful canker eat him up.

               37

Oh! Cries; I can love her, answers with a song. My sheepe would say, like the tree. And all our love.

               38

We have neither actual or potent spell. Injurious Conscience-quit of Good and Evil.

               39

That stately placed, soon the moon the pine-grown Latmian steep. To Hero, nothing imparted be.

               40

And thinketh al nis but a wondrous scope affords. And ever he mutton; with bear that much.

               41

But because I love, for mouth with they are my staff. Too well thee comforting her bowering.

               42

As doth Love speak. Peace sitting wood. That would go to Sleep; But, saith he, how shall be uttered shoot.

               43

My mind in the fables there. Wilt thou be denied! But let hem be-hold. Ask not the spring.

[tempenensis]

Hi!

Thank you so much for the translations and meta. Thanks to them I can understand more jjk and engage more with the anime and manga. Also, they made me like jjk more, it is really a great manga/anime, MAPPA and Gege sensei don't stop to amaze me.

I wanted to ask you about Maki. I guess her heavenly restriction is different from Toji's since he "doesn't have a presence". Do you thibk she could have that kind of no-presence in the future, when she becomes stronger? Can this no-presence be read as a technique on its own? How much does she know about Toji and his skills? Do his battling skills inspires her? Does she approve Toji's lifestyle? What does she think about Toji?

I like her a lot, she is strong in various aspects and so fearless. Sadly we couldn't see that too much since her battle in Shibuya was too much.

I liked a lot your take on her rebelling against the Zen'in Clan with all the women that are part of it. With Megumi being the head of the clan, I think they can really turn things upside down (with the support of Mai too).

sorry for the rambling and the silly questions 🤭 thank you so so much again. stay safe 🌈

Hello there! Thank you for the kind words!!

Based on this Q&A from Gege, the difference between Touji and Maki’s Heavenly restriction is that Touji’s curse energy is reduced to the point that he has none of it. Zero. In the other hand, Maki’s curse energy is not zero, she has some left at the level of a normal non-jujutsushi person. This zero curse energy is what makes Touji is undetected, having “zero presence” when he is read by Gojo’s six eyes which can see down to the most minimal trace of curse energy. And so, the current Maki is still impossible to get to the level of Touji, but hopefully we can see more of her development in the future. 

Also, Touji seems to be the “black sheep” of the family, someone estranged that they don’t talked too much about. Maki and Touji are confirmed to never meet, so it’s difficult to say whether Maki has any opinion on him. 

[stcviescott]

✨ phoebe tonkin, cis female, she/her   —   agnes street wouldn’t be the same today if it wasn’t for sounds of strings. do you know that stevie scott works there as the owner ? they are thirty-two and they look like the kind of person who might bite you if you get too close, whenever i see them, dreams by fleetwood mac starts to play inside my head. maybe it is the vibe they give off, the electric moment before the storm; seventies music played on acoustic guitars; flower crowns and bare feet; you know?

guys, I'm mia and this is my punk rock mama stevie. below you'll find two section: bio points and cool facts. some plotting ideas in the cool facts section might catch your eye! I've highlighted some keywords <3 I'll be working on her wanted connections page throughout the day!

bio points

stevie's life is pretty much a museum — a shrine to the past. she is a collector of sorts, of memories, of trinkets, of nostalgia itself. She misses her family, misses what could have been, misses the general feeling of the past. she wouldn't trade her present for anything, though.

born and raised in islebury to a wealthy family, she was commonly known as their very own black sheep — only being allowed to study music at juilliard because of its prestige and her apparent intention to work with classical music. needless to say, she was more of a rockstar.

she rose to fame like a comet, then descended out of it like a shooting star: during her junior year at juilliard, her band was signed by a major record label — and she left the school to tour with them. their record label dropped them one year later, however, and they were doomed to become a one hit wonder.

luckily, she was allowed to return to the school after her two-semester leave of absence, acquiring her bachelor of music degree. without the help of her now estranged family, she had to work twice as hard to provide for herself and maintain her academic scholarship.

after juilliard, she lived in a shoebox in nyc for a few years, working mainly with production and teaching music.

when her grandmother died, she made her way back to islebury. despite her mother's disapproval and her father's quiet affection, she inherited a substantial amount. working as a freelance music curator, she had no idea what to do with it.

while in town she ended up reconnecting with an old flame, the type of teenage country club love affair you get one summer in high school. a few weeks later, when she found out she was pregnant, he was announcing his engagement.

with a baby coming and NYC prices, she decided that maybe it was time to move back home and figure her life out.

she managed to rent a corner store on agnes street and started selling her old instruments, along with some handcrafted, one-of-a-kind instruments made by a friend in the hudson valley. it wasn't much, but with her freelance income, it was enough to make ends meet.

after her daughter was born, she got a teaching certificate. a few years later, it got her the music teacher position at the local middle school. though they seem to insist her class is called introduction to music, she prefers her own title: "how to rock 101". (yes, she is pretty much jack black in school of rock. that's the whole inspo.)

one step at a time, she was able to make a life for her little family. when the owner of the corner store offered to sell, she took money out of her inheritance to buy the place. she spent weekends working on it with loving friends, painting each wall and turning it into the beginning of a new dream. then they build the gig room, where a corner stage lit up the town every weekend.

now, she hopes to achieve one more: turn the basement into an independent record label for local artists.

the cool stuff

if lorelai gilmore, joni mitchell, donna sheridan and DEWEY FINN had a child, it would be stevie.

if you have (middle-aged) middle-school-age children living in islebury, she's their SUPER COOL MUSIC TEACHER who's letting them create a rock band.

wants to start THE BASEMENT LABEL, a record label for independent artists under her instrument store/live music place, SOUNDS OF STRINGS. (*this is a plot development for her, if anyone is a musician we have a connection lmao, she'll sign you)

has a six-year-old named ODESSA "OZZY" SCOTT, whose father is unaware of her existence. if you're feeling the bio points up there, basically the day she found out she was pregnant he was announcing his ENGAGEMENT TO SOMEONE ELSE. (*also a very much wanted plot because drama)

can seem very tough because she had to figure out how to do things by herself, raise a kid on her own and all that rock n roll, but she's a SOFTY.

her family is old rhode island money, but she was cut off when she decided to DROP OUT of juilliard to tour with her rock band. 

FEMINIST trademarked. GIVE ME A GIRL SQUAD PLS.

hates the taste of coffee but can't live without it.

misses MAKING MUSIC so much that it hurts.

will pet you and offer you a piece of LAST NIGHT'S PIZZA if provoked.

[uozlulu]

Who are your favorite top ten black clover characters and ships? Talk about them.

This is both easy and hard. Like I have so many faves and ships, can I really make a top ten? Let’s find out

Ten top faves in order they came to my brain:

Asta - It was favorite character at first bellow really. I like that he’s got his own political philosophy which is more than some other Jump heroes in similar positions have sometimes. He reads very nephew I never had to me. I just really love loud, kind characters really. 

Noelle - I like that her powers improve and grow with her desire to protect others. She’s also set up for such a great character arc when all is said and done. It’ll be fun to see her continue to loosen up more and more as we go now that she’s with a family who loves her openly and unconditionally.

Yuno - He reminds me of my little brother so a lot of his interactions with Asta bring on a lot of nostalgia. I also like how there are layers to him even if they’re subtle. He’s clearly got some depression issues to work through. I’m looking forward to how he handles a manga spoiler as he deals with more and more with such things. 

Charmy - I like that she can be both funny but also srsbsns when needed. She’s always entertaining and there’s so much more we can learn about her as we go along. 

Mereoleona - She’s very loud and very interesting. Like does sense use her grimoire when she makes those fire paws? I think we’ve only seen evidence of her grimoire open once but maybe that was actually Fuego’s. I also like how she’s in a position in which she can reject the nonsense of nobility without us having to sit through some family estrangement drama.

Magna - I want to see more of him. He’s an interesting dad friend to Klaus’ mom friend and he’s also constantly struggling to make things work. He’s very, very relatable. Reminds me of my struggle with learning to spell and learning math post-pre-algebra. 

Charlotte - I love her. A constant contradiction. Confined by the etiquette of nobility and her own nerves while deep down having her teen crush phase ten years later than most. Really hoping the filler arc allows her to sort some stuff out not only for shipping reasons but I think that she’s kind of not quite done with her identity crisis so if she could get more of a harness on some of her contradictions or find a way to blend them together more smoothly that would be good for her overall. Would also love to see her and Luck figure out they’re actually (half?) siblings

Vangeance - Very relatable back story, and I am looking forward to seeing how he grows as a character now separated from Patri. Looking forward to what the filler arc is going to do with him. 

Yami - He reminds me of my older sister in how he and Asta interact with each other, though my sister and I don’t you know how so much bathroom conversation >____>;;; (but that’s Jump for you). I’m hoping we get to learn more about him as we go along here. Also curious how many people in Clover Kingdom realize Yami is actually his surname considering Julius calls him Yami and calls Vangeance William.

Father Orsi - I’ve always rather liked him. In many ways he’s Asta and Yuno’s dad. I’m kind of hoping the current backstory subplot ends with that being acknowledged in some way kind of like how during the elf arc we had a lot of familial talk like Licht and Tetia getting married, Yuno being the reincarnation of their child, Tetia and Lumiere being siblings, etc...and had a plot point of Asta saving Orsi’s life while Yuno kept the threat at bay. Yuno especially is at a critical point that his part of the subplot could go in that kind of direction, which would be nice since Asta had the bigger father son moment with Orsi last time, but it won’t surprise me if by the time we get there it will be both Asta and Yuno who affirm that Hage is their home and the church and their squads are their families. 

Ten ships I enjoy in no particular order: 

Asta/Noelle - Asta’s still hopelessly devoted to Sister Lily and Noelle has only just discovered her heart can doki doki but I think they have the potential to grow and change together and become a really strong couple as that progresses. 

Yami/Charlotte - These two are very relatable. Does Yami know? I think he does, but I also think he can’t be 100% certain, which is very relatable especially since I too grow up as an “other” around my peers. Charlotte is also relatable because a lot of what she says out loud is some of my own internal monologue from back when I used to get crushes on people. It’s such a stupid mutual crush that could really become something fun if they would both just communicate and be themselves. 

Luck/Magna - They have a deep friendship and understanding of each other which could totally translate into something more if they wanted, which is always my jam. They also seem to know how far is too far when you factor out that they’re a hyper violent comedy routine at times, and that’s also nice. 

Yami/Vangeance - Makes me sad how little content there is for this ship especially after I filter out what I don’t want to see on AO3. Again you’ve got that friendship that could evolve aspect and they’re also two people Clover Kingdom sees as an “other” and had to prove themselves to get where they are. They both seem to have a love style that isn’t controlling given the love they show for their squads, which I think is what both of them need. 

Finral/Klaus - I know. I know. Everyone’s going “Where did that even come from?” and the answer is there is so little Black Clover fic when I saw a fic for this ship a while back I was like “Okay. Tell me more,” and it sold me on the ship. Both of them are kind of in a support position for their squads, they were both raised as nobles, and they both are kind of learning to let go of that nobility, though Finral has already let go of a lot of it now and Klaus is only starting to loosen up. It’s an interesting dynamic I’d like to see more of. 

Noelle/Kahono - Might have been me projecting a bit but when Kahono set up a double date designed to get Noelle and Asta together it reminded me of when I was in the closet back in middle and high school and fixed this girl I had a crush on up with the boys she liked alsfjldskfjaldkj. Also Kahono seems to have a lot of warmth and affinity for Noelle, and I think if they were able to interact more something could develop. They’d be very cute together, though I think Noelle likes her crushes weirder than Kahono but maybe Kahono has a secret weirdo side we just haven’t seen yet. 

Grey/Gauche - Do you ever like look at Gauche and feel that one gifset of Nick Furry burst forth? Yeah, so in a world in which he finally calms down a bit about Marie, he can be part of a ship as a treat. I like that they both can bring out sides of each other others can’t and I think they both have a lot of room to grow together as people. It would also be nice to see Gauche unwind a bit (though I think he’ll always be stuffy) and Grey open up more (though she’ll always be shy). They also seem like characters that wouldn’t overwhelm each other either, which is good because I think both of them wouldn’t respond well to more aggressive personality types. 

Charmy/Rill - We need to talk about how everyone Rill loves has handed him his ass. We really do. His butler did, Asta did, and now wolf!Charmy has. Just wait until sheep!Charmy hands him his ass, he’ll never look back. That said, that’s not why I like them. I like them because I think Charmy needs someone who will appreciate her and I think Rill definitely will as he gets used to her. I also think Rill needs someone who won’t put up with nonsense unless it’s the fun kind of nonsense and Charmy definitely would fit the right kind of chaotic energy. I also like ships in which the girl is just as capable of saving the boy (a la Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask) so again, like Asta/Noelle and Yami/Charlotte, I’m here for this ship. 

Leopold/Yuno - This stemmed from me thinking about how they would interact since strangely enough we’ve not seen them in the same place as the same time yet since Leopold didn’t participate in the Royal Knight Selection Exam. I would love to read some fics with this pairing but there aren’t a lot out there. In some ways it’s that anxiety/depression ship dynamic that I gravitate towards so it’s no surprise I’m curious how it would go. Maybe they’ll get to work together in the next major battle arc. 

Noelle/Nero - But like when Nero is in human form, you know? Again, it’s that anxiety/depression dynamic. I also think that while Noelle can draw on strength from Nero in battle, Nero can draw on strength from Noelle outside of battle because Noelle has that side of her that likes to care for people and has a lot of compassion for others even though she tries to cover it up by being tsundere. It’ll be fun to watch them fight alongside each other since they’re both going to be training in Heart Kingdom during the filler arc at some point. 

[allthehorrormovies]

A+1 - A blend of American Pie and Scream, but surprisingly better than that sounds. Outlining the plot would give away the twist, which tips its hand early on, yet ends in a gratifying manner. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Make love, not war.

Alien - A friend remarked how this film likely wouldn’t be made today. It’s shot too dark. It’s quiet, purposefully. There’s no action for much of the first half; more a study in isolated labor and worker exploitation. And there’s not a “star,” outside of teenage dreamboat Harry Dean Stanton. Actors like Sir Ian Holm Cuthbert were selected for their ability, not their stature within Hollywood, as production took place in London. As Robert Ebert said, “These are not adventurers, but workers.” We’re lucky it was made, supposedly, in part because the success of Star Wars pushed the studio to quickly release their own space movie. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Sigourney Weaver is the ultimate Final Girl.

Aliens - The deliberate, slow pace of Alien is replaced by James Cameron’s grandiose action, backed by four times the original budget. Like Terminator 2: Judgment Day, it’s amazing that both films avoid “the disease of more.” Cameron’s characters are too often weighed down by punch-line dialogue, but all the elements together somehow work. Ripley’s character begins to move past being a simple pilot and into a warrior woman, for better and worse. The studio originally tried to write her out of the sequel due to a contract dispute, but Cameron thankfully refused to make the film without her. There are people out there who prefer Aliens to Alien, and that’s fine. They are wrong, but that’s fine. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Alien³ - David Fincher has famously disowned his directorial debut, citing studio deadlines for its poor quality. Compared to the first two films, it certainly is a failure. Though gorier, the scenes with the digital alien look terrible upon re-viewing. The various writers and scripts, some potentially interesting—especially William Gibson’s version, and changing cinematographers and the insertion of Fincher late into production doomed the project from the start. All that said, the movie itself isn’t terrible—parts are even good, but what feels like a midway point in Ripley’s saga is ultimately her end, and that feels cheap. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Alien: Covenant - The maddening mistakes of Prometheus absent, this sequel is a tense, action-packed killer of a flick. Scott claims a third prequel is in the works that will tie everything back to Alien, which is . . . fine? It’s just that the first film was so great and everything else since then seems so unnecessary. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Alien Resurrection - The aliens look better than ever before, but Joss Whedon’s dialogue is simply annoying and the casting is horrible. Ripley has super powers and kills her large adult alien son. Winona Ryder decides crashing a space ship into Paris, killing untold millions, is the best way to get rid of the aliens for some reason. It’s fucking dumb and cost $70 million to make. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. In the special edition intro, director Jean-Pierre Jeunet says he didn’t change much in the re-release because he was proud of the theatrical version. Baffling. 

Amer - This Belgian-French film is a tribute to the Italian tradition of giallo, a stylized, thriller told in three sections that directors like Suspiria’s Dario Argento pioneered. Mostly wordless, there’s not much plot, more a series of moments in a women’s life revolving around terrifying, sexual moments that ends in murder and madness. There are some terrific scenes, but it’s more of an art piece than movie. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

An American Werewolf in London - Funny and scary all at once, setting the bar almost impossibly high for all that followed. Rick Baker's special effects catapult this movie into greatness. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Ebert was right, though; it doesn’t really have an ending. 

Annihilation - Perhaps more of a sci-fi thriller than a horror movie. But due to some terrifying monsters scenes, I’m going to include it. Apparently writer/director Alex Garland wrote the screenplay after reading the first book in Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach trilogy, giving the movie a different overall plot. Garland’s sleek style that made Ex Machina so wonderful is replaced by “The Shimmer,” which gives the film a strange glow. The ending relies too much on digital special effects that looked more gruesome in earlier segments, detracting from its intended impact. Still, a few key scenes, especially the mutated bear, are downright terror-inducing. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. I first found the constant flashbacks unnecessary, but viewed as a refraction on Portman’s mind as well as her body make them more forgiving.

The Babadook - Creepy and nearly a perfect haunted horror movie, except for some final tense moments that too quickly try to switch to sentimental, which leaves their earnestness falling flat. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Dook. Dook. Dook.

The Babysitter (2017) - One of Netflix’s original movies, this one pays off in gore and borrows heavily from Scott Pilgrim vs. the World-style jokes. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Meh. It’s cheesy and cliché, but whaddaya gonna do?

Backcountry - Don’t be fooled thinking this is like Jaws “but with a bear,” as I did. Unsympathetic characters and zero tension make this movie a drag to watch. At the start, you think, “Who cares if these assholes get eaten by a bear? They wandered into bear country without a map.” By the end, you’re actively cheering for the bear to eat the boyfriend and only a little sympathetic for the lead character. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. To her credit, Missy Peregrym does a fine job of being a mostly lone protagonist.

Basket Case - Cult director Frank Henenlotter‘s debut starts as a creepy, bloody horror movie, but staggers after showing the monster too soon and then tries to fill time with unnecessary backstory and extended scenes of screams and blood that would have otherwise been eerily good if executed more subtly. Despite not being very good, it’s at least somewhat interesting and kind of impressive considering its low budget. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Battle Royal - I’m not convinced this is a horror movie, it’s more just a gory action flick. But hey, oh well. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Fun, but not as great as many people seem to believe.

The Beyond - Considered one of Lucio Fulci’s greatest films, it might be a bit disappointing to newcomers of his work. Certainly the style and impressive gore are at their highest, but the muddled plot and poor dubbing distract from the overall effect. Fabio Frizzi‘s score is, for the most part, a great addition, however, certain key moments have an almost circus-like tone, which dampens what should be fear-inducing scenes. It’s easy to see why some fans absolutely love this movie while some critics absolutely hate it. In the end, it’ll please hardcore horror fans, but likely bore others. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Beyond the Gates - Two estranged brothers are sucked into an all-too-real game of survival after finding a mysterious VHS board game following the disappearance of their father. The plot is fun and original, but the lead actors aren’t all that engaging and the special effects look rather outdated for a 2016 release. Still, it’s an enjoyable watch. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Black Christmas - A slasher that starts out with potential, but never gets all that scary or gory, though it’s well made. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Margot Kidder gets a kid drunk.

Black Sheep (2006) - A hilarious, gory take on zombie sheep. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Black Sunday - The Mask of Satan (aka Black Sunday) is totally my new superhero/metal band name. If you're a fan of older horror, this one is not-to-miss. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Vengeance, vampires, Satan worship, castles, curses, and a buxom heroine, this movie is pretty damn dark for a 1960's black & white film.

The Blackcoat’s Daughter - Scores points for a couple of horrific scenes and a fairly good switcheroo, but mostly too slowly paced to capture the viewer’s attention. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Emma Roberts continues her path to being the modern Scream Queen.

The Birds - Hithcock’s film was, by no means, the first horror movie. German, Japanese, and UK directors had explored witches, demons, and the classic monsters decades earlier. But, The Birds is a landmark film, like Psycho, for pioneering a new wave of modern horror. It was, perhaps, the first time female sexuality and ecological revenge had been combined to create an unsettling tale with an ambiguous ending. And the rather graphic scenes of found corpses, combined with a minimalist score, are nearly as shocking today as when the film was first released. 5 out of 5 pumpkins.

Braindead - It's Bill Pulman and Bill Paxton in a 1980s B-horror; what more do you need? Most people won't enjoy this campy fart of nonsense, but try pulling your TV outside and getting good and drunk. Anything's good then. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. “The universe is just a wet dream."

The Brood - No where near as polished as Scanners or Videodrome, but still a creepy, well-made film. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

A Bucket of Blood - This black & white 1959 film from Roger Corman is more dark comedy than horror, but it’s a absurdly fun critique of beatnik culture written by Corman’s partner on Little Shop of Horrors. Dick Miller gives a great performance, and with a run time of about an horror, the pacing feels relatively quick for an older film. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Byzantium - The tale of two British vampires who live like wandering gypsies, setting up a low-rent brothel in a seaside town despite being immortal badasses because the all-powerful, all-male secret vampire club is trying to kill them, because . . . no girls allowed? It’s unclear. The vampires are of the more modern type—they go out during the day and receive their curse from a geological location than from one another. Still, overall the movie is better than it has to be. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Cabin Fever - Eli Roth’s directorial debut isn’t awful, but it certain could have been better considering Roth credits Carpenter’s The Thing as its inspiration. The homophobic jokes date the movie more than the alt-rock soundtrack and the repetitive scenes reminding viewers of how the mysterious disease spreads (at apparently differing rates depending on the character) during the conclusion end up creating a weird kind of plot hole. To his credit, some of the nods to The Thing are OK. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Cabin Fever 2: Spring Fever - That Ti West made this pseudo-campy and outright bad movie during the same period that he made The House of the Devil is perplexing. The style, pace, and subtly that make The House of the Devil an enjoyable film are nonexistent in this cash-grab sequel. West apparently hated the final cut and requested his name be removed from the project. That said, I kind of like this movie better than the original. I’ve always found Roth’s praise of his directorial debut to be odd, as it’s not very good. For what it’s worth, this movie isn’t trying to be anything other than what it is: a tasteless, bad horror movie. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Retcons the plot hole in the first movie, at least.

The Cabin in the Woods - As good of a spoof of the horror genre as one could hope. Stereotypical with an O'Henry twist at every turn, this movie is good for an afternoon viewing, much like Tucker & Dale vs Evil. Without giving much away, if you think about it, The Cabin In the Woods is like a weird PSA about how marijuana will destroy all of mankind. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Fun and gory with something for everyone.

Candyman - Decades later, it’s not as easy to see why Candyman was such a landmark movie. It’s a bit slow, stumbles in places, and some of the acting is only serviceable. However, the story itself (based on Clive Baker’s original) is—on paper at least—good. Critics at the time were rightfully hesitant to praise a movie simply for having a black villain, especially when his origin is based on racial violence, but Tony Todd’s portrayal is so terrifying it launches the character into one of the all time great horror monsters. Add in Philip Glass’s soundtrack and Candyman reigns among other classics without being a top contender. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Carrie - I saw this movie on TV a long time ago, but I had forgotten much of the film, especially the opening scene of slow motion nudity (aren't these girls supposed to be in high school?!). The remake of this movie is likely going to be bad, but the original is so good I'll probably go see it. What can be said? Pig's blood. Fire. Religious indoctrination. Sexual overtones. There's a reason Brain de Palma's version of Steven King's story became so culturally important. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. This movie holds up, even today. 

Carrie (2013) - Though nothing is glaringly bad, and the added back-story decently pulled off by Julian Moore as the mother, almost every scene is a shadow of the original. Which is unfortunate considering that the remake of Let The Right One In managed to find a somewhat more unique tone. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Largely unnecessary.

The Changeling - George C. Scott does a fine job as a mourning husband haunted by an unfamiliar spirit. Not the most exciting movie, but pretty decent. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. It might’ve ranked higher, but there are no half stars here.


Cheerleader Massacre - This movie looks like someone shot it in their backyard with an earl 90s handheld camcorder . . . in high school. This is just embarrassing, for me too. The actors seem to be exotic dancers or adult film stars, who haven’t been asked back for a shift in a while. Alright, I skipped through this because the quality was so low. At around minute 41 there's a bathtub scene with three naked women, which culminates in one licking chocolate sauce off each other’s breasts. Some people die. Two of the naked women survive, I think. The house they all go to in the beginning of the movie - a ski lodge, I guess - burns down, or doesn't. Whatever. 0 out of 5 pumpkins. Just watch actual porn.

Child’s Play - While only OK, I understand how this became a franchise. Melted Chucky is terrifying. The villain can hop from vessel to vessel, unfortunately through some kind of voodoo racist bullshit. The characters are shallow, but serviceable. For such a big budget movie, it’s weird that it ends so abruptly. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Children of the Corn - Damn, this movie is boring. Linda Hamilton does the World's Least Sexy Birthday Striptease. The characters are joking quite a bit having just run over a child, whose dead body is rattling around in the trunk. What was the casting call like for this movie? "Wanted: Ugly children. Must look illiterate." All in all, things turn out pretty good for our protagonists. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. For something that spurred at least five other movies, this was remarkably uninspiring. 

City of the Living Dead - The dialogue is awkward and the plot a bit convoluted, but the special effects hold up and the overall story is good. The first of Lucio Fulci’s Gates of Hell trilogy. Apparently when the movie was screened in L.A., Fulci was booed. 3 of 5 pumpkins. Poor Bob the Simple Pervert.

Climax - Gaspar Noé is known for making viewers feel as uncomfortable possible with his experimental style film making. Which is fine. But that discomfort rarely lands to move me outside the initial shock. Climax is, surprisingly, more like a Suspiria remake than the actual 2018 remake. That, however, doesn’t make it good. The really shocking moments aren’t all that shocking and the cultural commentary isn’t very deep. It’s not a bad movie, it’s just, well, unnecessary. The dance scenes are extraordinary, so at least it’s got that going for it. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Color Out of Space - An enjoyable, albiet uneven, film that does a lot with little. A head-trip type of home invasion movie that pulls you in. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Conjuring - It’s easy to see why so many people love this movie. It’s well-acted, it has jump-out-of-your-seat scares, and incorporates several classic fear elements. Considering the mediocre, at best, tiredly worn horror movies that slump to torture porn for shock value coming out recently, The Conjuring stands above its peers. Still, there’s nothing original about the movie. 3 out 5 pumpkins. 

The Conjuring 2 - Billed as more shocking than the original, this sequel likely lands better in theaters with it’s jump-cut scares and action flick sequences. On the home screen, however, the overly dramatic elements are too far flung to seem like a haunting based on true events. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. 

Creep (2014) - Nails the P.O.V. angle without going too far down the overly-used “found footage.” Mark Duplass is terrifying and without his ability to carry the film, the entire concept could have easily fallen flat. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Creep 2 - Mark Duplass pleasantly surprises with a sequel that, while not as *ahem* creepy as the first, builds out the world of his serial killer in a manner that is engaging and ends with the potential for more. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Crimes of Passion - Technically it’s an “erotic thriller,” but given Ken Russell in the director’s chair and Anthony Perkins as the villain, I’m adding it to this list. Unfortunately, it’s not a great film. Kathleen Turner surpasses over acting in some scenes, and the rest of the cast is pretty forgettable. If the plot revolved around Perkins’s character, it might have been more of a horror flick. Instead revolves around loveless marriage and the fucked up issues of sexuality in America, attempting to say . . . something, but never really making a point. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Russell has got an obsession with death dildos. I don’t know what to do with that information. Just an observation.

Crimson Peak - Guillermo del Toro is a complicated director. He’s created some truly remarkable films, but has also created some borderline camp. Crimson Peak splits the difference, much in the same way Pacific Rim does. If you’re a deep fan of a particular genre, in this case Victorian-era romance, then the movie can be an enjoyable addition to the category with its own voice. If you’re not, then the movie’s more eye-roll-inducing moments are less a nod to fandom and more of an uninvited addition to what could be a straight forward film. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Beautiful, but lacking.

Cronos - This del Toro film is a must-see for any fan of his current work. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Even if you're not usually a fan of foreign films, you'll likely appreciate this modern take on the vampire mythology.

Dagon - To be honest, I feel like I should watch this one again. It’s a bit of a jumbled mess, but there are some wacky, gory moments at the end. Similar in tone and style to Dead and Buried. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Seriously, like the last 20 minutes cram so much plot it’s just a series of wtf moments until hitting incest and then nothing really matters.

Darling - Well shot in beautiful black and white with an excellence score, Darling really should receive a better score. However, it fails to be more than the sum of its parts. Borrowing liberally from Kubrick’s one-point perspective and Polanski’s Repulsion in nearly every other way, the film is decent, but fumbles in deciding whether to convince the audience of a clear plot, leaving viewers with closure, yet unsatisfied. Still, worth viewing. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Daughters of Darkness - A Belgian/French erotic vampire film that isn’t as erotic or vampiric as one might hope. Still, legend Delphine Seyrig shines so brightly, it’s catapults are relatively boring film into near greatness. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Dawn of the Dead - The best zombie movie ever made. 5 out of 5 pumpkins.

Day of the Dead - George A. Romero’s end to a near-perfect trilogy isn’t as good as its predecessors, but it’s gorier and somehow more depressing, even with the ending. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Dead and Burried - Starts with a bang, but lags in the middle. The ending tries too hard to surprise you, yet, by the time it’s over you kind of don’t care. Surprisingly well acted and good, creepy tale. Might not be everyone’s bag, but if you’re a tried-and-true horror fan, you’ll enjoy the movie. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Fun fact: The movie was written by Dan O’Bannon, famed for writing Alien. O’Bannon worked with John Carpenter on a short in film school, quit being a computer animator on Star Wars to be a screenwriter, and became broke and homeless after attaching himself to Jodorowsky’s doomed Dune. He later went on to direct The Return of The Living Dead and write Total Recall. 

Dead Snow - A Nazi zombie bites off a dude's dick. Do you really need any other details? 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Germans be crazy.

Dead Snow 2: Red vs Dead - Not as good as its predecessor, but still fun. Plus, more children die. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Why all the gay jokes, though?

Death Bed: The Bed That Eats - OK, my first nit-pick is that the bed doesn’t eat people so much as it dissolves people. But it still makes chewing sounds? Whatever. A bizarre concept that swings for seriousness and utterly fails due to its lack of plot and extremely low budget. Kinda of weird, but ultimately pretty boring. 1 out of 5 pumpkins.

Death Spa - Hilariously bad. Super 80s. I can’t say this is a good film, but I would recommend watching it for the kitsch value. What if a ghost haunted a gym? Instant money maker. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Fun fact: the project came about due to shepherding from Walter Shenson, who got rich producing A Hard Day’s Night and Help!, and the lead actor, who plays a gym manager, was an actual gym manager in L.A. at the time.

Deathgasm - Imagine if Scott Pilgrim vs. the World was about a New Zealand metal band and not as good, but still pretty OK. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Deep Red (aka Profondo Rosso, aka The Hatchet Murders) - Dario Argento’s 1975 film is more polished than 1977′s Suspiria, which is a bit surprising. However, that doesn’t necessarily make it a better film. Where Suspirira’s fever dream colors and superior soundtrack, also by Goblin, shines, Deep Red doesn’t quite land. The camera work here is better, though, as is much of acting. But there’s a lot of let downs, such as the opening psychic bowing out and never really coming up again, the boorish male lead and oddly timed humor, and the final reveal, which is anti-climatic. Still, an overall great horror movie. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Def by Tempation - I really enjoyed this film, despite it not being the most skillful directed or the most incredible script. The plot is compelling, the jokes are pretty funny, and the angles and lighting are really well done despite the limited budget. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Admittedly, Kadeem Hardison nostalgia helps.

Demons - Multiple people recommended this to me, and I can see why considering the Dario Argento connection. Unfortunately, the premise is more exciting than the execution. Poorly acted and poorly dubbed, the gore doesn’t do enough to hold one’s attention. There’s a scene where a guy rides around on a dirt bike killing demons with a samurai sword. At least that happens. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Is the ticket-taker in on it? She works in the demon theater, right? So, why is she being hunted? Also, where the fuck did the helicopter come from?

The Descent - Some of Earth’s hottest, most fit women embark on a spelunking adventure with a recently traumatized friend. Aside from a couple of lazy devices that put the team in greater peril than necessary, the movie quickly and cleverly puts the cavers into a horrifying survival scenario that few others in the genre have matched. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Without giving too much away, be sure you get the original, unrated cut before watching this flick.

The Devil’s Backbone - Though del Toro’s debut, Cronos, is more original and imaginative, this is much more honed. Not necessarily frightening, but tense and dreadful through out, laying open the horror war inflicts on all it touches. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Devil’s Candy - More of a serial killer thriller than a horror, but the supernatural elements raise this movie to better-than-average heights. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. The real lesson is this movie is that cops won’t save you, ONLY METAL CAN SAVE YOU!

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark - The biggest upside to this movie is that it was produced by Guillermo del Toro. The biggest downside is that it's not directed by Guillermo del Toro. Still, the director gets credit for making a child the main character; never an easy task. To the little girl's credit, she's a better actor than Katie Holmes, no surprise, and Guy Pierce. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. With a bit more gore and stylistic pauses, this could have been a 4. This movie proves why killing kids is more fun than kids who kill, and also that every male protagonist in every horror movie is dumb dick.

Don’t Look Now - Well-acted and interesting, Nicolas Roeg’s adaptation is a high-water mark of the 1970s premier horror. The only real complaint is that the ending—while good and obviously ties it all together—is nonsensical. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Donald Sutherland fucks.

Event Horizon - “This ship is fucked.” “Fuck this ship!” “Where we’re going, we don’t need eyes to see.” These are quotes from, and also the plot of, Event Horizon. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. The most disturbing part of the whole production might be Sam Neil’s attempt to be a sexual icon.

The Evil Dead - Though The Shining is the best horror movie ever made, The Evil Dead is my favorite. Funny, creepy, well-shot on a shoestring budget, it's the foundation for most modern horror flicks, more so than Night of the Living Dead in some fashions. See it immediately, if you haven't. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Bruce fuckin' Campbell.

Evil Dead (2013) - Not entirely bad, and even takes the original plot in more realistic places, like the character having to detox. But is that what we really need? The fun of the original is its low budget, odd humor, and DIY grit. I guess if you really want a “darker” version, it’s this. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Better than The Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake, about as good as the Carrie remake, I guess.

Evil Dead II - I have to respect Sam Raimi because it’s like he got more budget and did everything possible to try and make this movie suck just as a fuck you to the studio. All the creepy parts of the original are over-the-top, there’s zero character development—just faces on a stage, and it’s seemingly a crash-grab to set up Army of Darkness more than anything else. That said, it’s kind of boring outside of a couple gory scenes. It’s fun, but not that funny. It’s scary, but more gauche than anything. An exercise in excess, yet a decent one somehow. My biggest complaint is that Evil Dead is great with Bruce Campbell, but would have been good with almost anyone; whereas Evil Dead II is only good because it’s Bruce Campbell. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Elvira: Mistress of the Dark - This movie is nothing but puns and tit jokes. But clever ones! Pretty okay with that. Or maybe it's a statement on third-wave feminism in spoof form? Probably not. At one point an old people orgy breaks out at a small town morality picnic, but it's a PG-13 movie so it doesn't get very fun. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Boooooooooobs.

Elvira's Haunted Hills - A pretty disappointing follow-up to what was a fun, 1980s romp. Instead of poking fun at uptight Protestants, Elvira’s just kind of a dick to her servant. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Even the boob jokes are flat.

The Endless - More sci-fi than horror, and not the most deftly produced, still an original concept that’s pulled off well. 3 out 5 pumpkins. Maybe this should get a higher ranking. It’s good! Not exactly scary, but good.

Equinox - Decided to give another older Criterion Collection film a try. Though there are some clever tricks in the movie, especially for its time -- like an extended cave scene that's just a black screen -- the poor sound, monsters that look children's toys, and general bad acting drag this movie down to nothing but background noise that's easy to ignore. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. Whatever contributions this movie may have made to the industry, its not worth your time unless studying for a film class.

Excision - Less of an outright horror movie and more of a disturbing tale of a young necrophiliac, the film tries its best to summon the agnst of being a teen, but falls short of better takes, like Teeth. Still, pretty good. Traci Lords is great and John Waters plays a priest. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Exorcist - The slow pace and attention to character backstory is more moving than the shocking scenes you've no doubt heard about, even if you haven't seen the film. The pacing is slow compared to most movies today, but the drawn out scenes, like in Rosemary's Baby, help convey the sense of dread. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Believe.

Eyes Without a Face - One of the more remarkable things about this French 1960′s near-masterpiece is how carefully it walked the line between gore and taboo topics in order to pass European standards. The villain isn’t exactly sympathetic, but carries at least some humanity, giving the story a more realistic, and therefore more frightening quality. The only, only thing that holds this film back is the carnivalesque soundtrack that could have been foreboding. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. A must watch for any horror fan.

The Fly - Cronenberg's fan-favorite film is delightful, though it’s not as great as Scanners or Videodrome, in my humble opinion. Jeff Goldblum is, of course, terrific. If you haven’t seen it, see it! 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Where’d he get the monkey, though? Seems like it’d be hard to just order a monkey. The 80s were wild, man.

The Fog - A rare miss for John Carpenter’s earlier work. There’s nothing outright wrong or bad about this movie, but it’s not particularly scary and the plot is rather slow. That said, it’s soundly directed. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. If you’re a Carpenter fan, it’s still worth watching.

Forbidden World - Another Roger Corman cult classic, this one made immediately after the much larger budget Galaxy of Terror, mostly because Corman had spent so much on the first set (designed by James Cameron) and thought of a way to make another low-budget flick with a much smaller cast and recycled footage from Battle Beyond the Stars. Even more of a complete rip-off of Alien, with some Star Wars and 2001: A Space Odyssey bit sprinkled in. Perhaps because it’s far less serious and revels in its pulp, it’s somehow better than Galaxy of Terror, which is more ambitious—you know, for a Corman b-movie. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. No worm sex scene, though.

Frankenhooker - Frank Henenlotter‘s 1990 black comedy is over-the-top in almost every way, perhaps best encapsulated by the introduction of Super Crack that makes sex workers, and one hamster, explode. But with a title like Frankenhooker, you get what you expect. Hell, it even manages to sneak in an argument for legalizing prostitution. If you’re a fan of zany, exploitation in the vein of Re-Animator, you’ll enjoy it. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Friday the 13th - Terrifically balanced between campy and creepy, with a soundtrack that’s twice as good as it needs to be. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Worth watching every year.

The Frighteners - Michael J. Fox, everyone! Robert Zemeckis & Peter Jackson - ugh. It didn't even take 20 minutes for the racial stereotypes to kick in. Unlike the trope of youth in most horror movies, everyone in this movie looks old. Holy shit, did anyone else remember Frank Busey was in this movie? Michael J. Fox is a bad driver in this movie. He was also in a car accident that gave him supernatural sense. Jokes. Apparently they tried to make it look like this movie was shot in the Midwestern United States, but it was filmed in New Zealand. It's clearly a coastal or water based mountain town, in like dozens of shots. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Cheesy without being completely campy, it's also family friendly. If this were any other genre, this would likely be a two.

From Beyond - Stewart Gordon’s follow-up to Re-Animator isn’t as fun, even with some impressively gory special effects. Viewers are throw into a story with little regard for character, which doesn’t really matter, but is still a bit of a left down when you find yourself wondering how a BDSM-inclined psychiatrist builds a bomb from scratch. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. It’ll stimulate your pineal gland!

Funny Games (2007) - A fairly straightforward home invasion horror achieves greatness thanks to Michael Haneke‘s apt directing and powerful performances by Naomi Watts and Michael Pitt. Like with Psycho, some of the most horrifying parts are what comes after. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. The fourth wall breaking is an odd touch, but thankfully and surprisingly doesn’t distract.

The Fury - Brian De Palma’s follow-up to Carrie is a major let down. Despite a fairly charismatic Kirk Douglas and score by John Williams, the two-hour run time drags and drags. Attempting to combine horror and an action-thriller, the film waffles between genres without ever rising above either. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. It’s not explicitly bad; just a bore to watch.

Galaxy of Terror - Roger Corman produced this movie as was to try and capitalize off the success of Alien, but even with that shallow motivation it’s better than it needed to be. Staring Erin Moran of Happy Days fame and celebrated actor Ray Walston, Galaxy of Terror has an uneven cast, made all the more puzzling by Sid Haig. Though “the worm sex scene” is likely the reason it achieved cult status, James Cameron’s production is top-notch and was clearly the foundation for his work on Aliens. The ending even hints at the future of Annihilation. Does all this make it a good movie? Not really, but it’s not terrible either. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Get Out - A marvelous debut for Jordan Peele, who—given his comedy background—was able to land some downright chilling moments alongside some mostly well-timed jokes. Unfortunately, not all of them as well timed, especially the drop-in moments with the lead character’s TSA buddy. Peele originally had the film end less optimistically, but wanted audiences to ultimately walk away feeling good. Maybe not the most artistic choice, but certainly the smart one given the film’s acclaim. It’s easy to see why Get Out has cemented itself alongside The Stepford Wives as a smart, “in these times” commentary about society, but it’s also just a really well-paced, well-shot, well-acted film. With two other horror projects immediately set, it’ll be exciting to see just how much Peele will add to the genre. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. America’s worst movie critic, Armond White, said Get Out was “an Obama movie for Tarantino fans” as if that was a bad thing. Idiot.

Ginger Snaps - A delightfully playful but still painful reminder of what it was like being a teenager while still being a gore-fest. A must for anyone who was emo. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Out by sixteen or dead on the scene.

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night - An almost flawless picture. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Bonus: nearly everyone in this movie is insanely hot.

Green Room - Surviving a white supremacist rally in the Pacific Northwest is no joke. The region is the unfortunate home to violently racist gangs, clinging to the last shreds of ignorant hate. Though fading, some of the movements mentioned in the movie, like the SHARPs, are grounded in recent history. Mainly a gory survival-flick, the movie sneaks in some surprisingly tone-appropriate humor. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. No one’s island band should be Misfits.

A Ghost Story (2017) - Yes, this isn’t a horror. It’s a drama. Don’t care; including it anyway. It’s unnerving in the way that it makes you consider your own mortality and the lives of the people who you’ve touched, and how all of that won’t last as long as an unfeeling piece of furniture or the wreckage of home soon forgot. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Ghostbusters (1984) - “It’s true. This man has no dick.” 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Halloween (1978) - One of the best openings of any horror film. John Carpenter is a genius. 5 out of 5 pumpkins.

Halloween (2018) - Eh. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Hardware - A very unhelpful Marine brings home some post-apocalyptic trash that tries to kill him and his girlfriend, who could absolutely do better than him. Horribly shot and nonsensical, it doesn’t push the boundaries of filth or gore its cult fans adore. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. Do not recommend.

The Haunting (1963) - Not exactly the scariest of movies, but damn well made and just dripping with gay undertones. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Theo is queen femme daddy and we are all here for it.

Haunting on Fraternity Row - The acting is surprisingly decent, but the supernatural elements don’t even start until halfway into the movie, which begins as a sort of handheld, POV style conceit and then abandons all pretense of that set up. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. Not at all scary, but maybe it will make you nostalgic for frat parties, cocaine, and failed threesomes. So.

The Haunting of Julia - Apparently parents in 1970s Britain didn't receive proper Hymlic maneuver treatment, which perhaps made for an epidemic of dead children. As promising as that premise might be, an hour into this movie and there hasn't been any actual haunting. There's a stylish gay best friend (he owns a furniture store) and a dumb dick of an ex-husband, a scene of library research, mistaken visions, etc. All the standards are here, except for the haunting parts. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Well shot but absolutely boring, this is more about a woman's struggle with depression than a horror flick.

Head Count - A great premises that falters in key moments, making the sum of its parts less than its promising potential. For example, there’s no reason to show a CGI monster when you’ve already established its a shape-shifter, the scariest part is that they could be anybody! 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Hellbound: Hellraiser II - I really dislike this movie, not because it’s especially bad, but because it’s a lazy continuation of the first film. Yes, there are a couple of scenes that are squeamishly good, but it spends too much time rehashing the plot of the first and then ending in some grandiose other dimension that has not real impact. Part of the terrifying elements of the first is that the horror is confined to one room in one house. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. It really only gets this many pumpkins because of the mattress scene.

Hellraiser - Truly the stuff nightmares are made of. It’s easy to see why this film became a cult-classic and continues to horrify audiences. That said, the plot is a bit simplistic. Not that the plot is the heart of the film; the objective is for viewers to experience squeamish body mutilation and overall dread, and in that regard it truly delivers. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Hereditary - Toni Collette is a treasure in this dramatic horror about family and loss. Though the truly terrifying bits take too long to ramp up, resulting in a jumbled conclusion, the film is engrossing. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Hocus Pocus - Admittedly, this movie isn’t very good. But its nostalgic charm and constant virgin jokes earns it a higher ranking that it deserves. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. “Max likes your yabbos. In fact, he loves them.”

Honeymoon - Often described as a modern twist on Rosemary’s Baby, this debut from promising director Leigh Janiak takes its time before getting truly creepy. Though there are some gruesome moments, the tense feeling is bound to the two leads, who are able to keep a lingering sense of dread alive without much else to play off. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Host - I was skeptical of this Korean movie based on the sub-par visual affects, but the script, actors, and cinematography were all much better than expected. A genre-bender, as my friend who recommended it described, you'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll cringe. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. If you're a fan of movies like Slither, you'll love this movie.

Hot Fuzz - Second in Three Flavours Cornetto and probably the worst, but still a great movie that gets better on repeat viewing. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

House - A part of the Critereon Collection, this 1977 Japanese movie is a trip and a half that follows the untimely demise of some school girls going to visit their friend's aunt, who turns out to be a witch who eats unwed women. One of the girls is named Kung-Fu and spiritually kicks a demon cat painting until blood pours out everywhere. I guess this is kind of a spoiler, but the movie is such a madcap, magna-influenced experiment there's nothing that can really ruin the experience. Like most anime, this movie also ends with an unnecessary song that drags on for far too long. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. I guess this movie influenced a lot of future work, which make sense. Still, most people would consider this a 1 as it's nearly impossible to follow.

The House at the End of the Street - I only decided to watch this movie because Jennifer Lawrence is in it. This isn't even a real horror movie. It's a serial killer movie with a few thriller moments. My standards are low at this point. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. It's a PG-13 movie, so instead of outright showing you some boobs there's just long, awkwardly placed frames of Jennifer Lawrence in a white tank-top. Oh, America.

The House of the Devil - Though an on-the-nose homage to 70s satanic slow-burns, this Ti West feature moves at a decent pace toward the slasher-like ending, making it better than most of movies it pays tribute to. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. 

The House on Sorority Row - A cookie-cutter college slasher that ends abruptly for no real reason considering how long it sets up its premise. Nothing awful, but nothing original. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Housebound - A fun, Kiwi flick that nicely balances a bit of horror with humor with a strong performance by Morgana O'Reilly. Though the plot takes a couple unnecessary twits towards the end, the gore kicks up and leaves you with a satisfying ending. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Howling - Released the same year as American Werewolf in London, this movie isn’t very good, but it is entertaining. Apparently audiences and critics thought it was funny. Maybe because it makes fun of that Big Sur lifestyle? I dunno. Dick Miller is the best thing in this movie, outside of the special effects. No idea why it spawned several follow ups. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Honestly, why not just lean into The Gift and join The Colony—nice surroundings, sultry nympho, regeneration ability. Some people can’t appreciate nice things.

Humanoids from the Deep - A cult favorite from the Roger Corman camp that borrows heavily from Creature from the Black Lagoon and a bit from Jaws. Initially very well done by director Barbara Peeters, but ultimately released much to her distaste. Peeters shot grisly murder scenes of the men, but used off camera and shadows to show the creatures raping the women. Corman and the editor didn’t think there was enough campy nudity. So they tapped Jimmy T. Murakami and second unit director James Sbardellati to reshoot those scenes, unknown to the cast, and then spliced the more exploitative elements back in for the final version, including a shower scene where it’s abundantly clear a new, more busty actress stands in for actual character. It’s unfortunate Peeters’ creation was essentially stolen from her, as it could have been a more respected film. I mean, how many horror flicks could weave in the economic struggle of small town bigots against a young native man trying save salmon populations? That said, the cut we got is pervy romp that’s still a boat-load of b-movie fun. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. James Horner on the score.

The Hunger - First off, David fucking Bowie. Not to be outdone, Susan Sarandon and Catherine Deneuve are absolute knock-outs. Horror stories are often rooted in the erotic, often the unknown or shameful aspects of ingrained morality manifested in the grotesque and deadly. When done positively and well, it can be a powerful device. It’s a shame more recent horror movies don’t move beyond the teen-to-college-year characters for their sexual icons, too often used as sacrificial lambs, because mature sexuality can be far more haunting. As we age our connections to the meaning of love grow deeper and more complex; immorality does not offer the same luster. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Damn impressive for a first major film. Fun fact: Tony Scott wanted to adapt Interview with the Vampire, but MGM gave him The Hunger instead. It bombed and he went back to making commercials. Then Jerry Bruckheimer got him to direct Top Gun, which made $350M.

Hush - Though the masked stranger, home invasion plot is well-worn, this movies provides just enough shifts to keep things interesting and frightening. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Watch out, Hot John!

I Am the Pretty Thing that Lives in the House - With only an hour and a half run time, this film still drags. Part of that is deliberate. The foundation of the film is its atmosphere and the lingering uneasiness that it wishes audiences to dwell in. But by the end, you’re left with nothing more than a simple, sad story. It’s similar to the feeling of overpaying for a nice-looking appetizer and never getting a full meal. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Initiation - This movie has every 80s hour cliché necessary: minimalist synth soundtrack, naked co-eds, looming POV shots, hunky Graduate professor, escaped psychiatric patients, prophecy nightmares, and creepy a child. Yes, everything but actual horror. An hour into the horror movie and only one person has died. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. There is no point to this movie, unless you're a huge fan of the princess in Space Balls.

The Innkeepers - The second of Ti West’s two well-received horror originals before he set out for TV and found-footage anthologies, The Innkeepers may not get as much love as The House of the Devil, but should. The dual-leads (Sara Paxton and Pat Healy) are more fun to watch than Jocelin Donahue‘s performance and the tone more even-set throughout the film. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Innocents - Reportedly Martin Scorsese’s favorite horror movie, it’s easy to see how big of an impact it had on the genre (especially The Others) with sweeping camera angles, slow but still haunting pace, and remarkable sound design. Perhaps it’s not as well-received by modern viewers, but it’s no doubt a classic. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Intruder (1989) - An enjoyable slasher flick from long-time Sam Raimi collaborator Scott Spiegel that takes places in a grocery store after hours that doesn’t try to do too much or take itself too seriously and features some over-the-top gore. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. “I’m just crazy about this store!”

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) - A terrific example of how to build paranoid fear. That its political allegory can be interpreted on both sides of McCarthyism makes it all the better. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Original ending, ftw.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) - A rare remake that’s almost as good as the original. Terrific use of San Fransisco as a setting, Goldblum Goldblum’ing it up, solid pacing—great film! 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Plus, nudity!

The Invitation - More of a tense drama until the final moments, this film deserves praise for holding viewers’ attention for so long before the horror tipping point. Further details could spoil the story, but like many tales in the genre the lesson here is always trust your gut. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Ugh, Californians.

It (2017) - Stephen King’s nearly 1,200 page 1986 national bestseller captures the attention of readers for a number of reason: it’s coming-of-age story is horrific even without supernatural elements, it’s cast of characters resemble classic American archetypes from many of King’s other works, and its adaptation into a four hour mini-series staring Tim Curry as Pennywise in 1990 has haunted the imaginations of children for decades. Unfortunately, like the mini-series, the movie fails to deliver the long, unsettling moments that make the novel so thrilling. King’s story is a cocaine-fueled disaster that throws everything and the kitchen sink at viewers when compressed onto the screen. The truly terrifying elements of the book lose their impact when delivered one after another without time to feel personally connected to each character. The genius of It is the paranormal evil’s ability to hone in on a person’s darkest fears. Without deep empathy for all of The Losers, the individualized psychological torture is muted when reduced to jump-cuts. For what it’s worth, the film does its best with a jumble of sub-plots and the Pennywise origin story, but as the tone bounces from wide shots of small town Maine and the painful trauma of abuse to titled zooms of CGI monsters and an over-the-top soundtrack, something is lost. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Publishing office, 1985: “So, wait. The kids fuck?” the editor asks, disgusted. King vacuums another white rail into his nasal cavity. “Huh?! Oh. Yeah, sure. I guess. Does that happen? Jesus, I’m so fucked up right now. What day is it? What were you saying? Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s like, love is the opposite of fear, bridge to adulthood or something. Do you have any booze around here?”

It Comes At Night - More utterly depressing than terrifying and a reminder that the greatest horror we’ll likely ever face is simply the limits of our own humanity. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

It Follows - An uncomfortable and honest take on how sexuality is intertwined with the horror myth. One for the ages. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. The real terror is HPV. 

Jaws - A masterpiece that’s too easily remembered for its cultural impact than artist merit. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. R.I.P. Chrissie Watkins, you were a free spirit as wild as the wind.

The Killing of a Sacred Deer - Yorgos Lanthimos‘s follow up to The Lobster isn’t as well done, but the wide shots, odd lines, and increasingly bizzare build-up are all present. The finale is near perfect, but takes a bit too long to reach. I’d really like to give this film a higher score, but alas: 3 out of 5 pumpkins. There’s nothing wrong, yet something is missing.

Kiss of the Damned - There are handful of potential interesting scenes and the internal drama of a vampire family is a potentially the foundation for a good film. Despite this, Xan Cassavetes’s film never manages to actually be all that interesting. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. There’s nothing terrible here, but also nothing remarkable.

Knock Knock - Two hotties do my man Keanu dirty. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Eli Roth is a better actor than director.

The Lair of the White Worm - A campy demon flick from Altered States director Ken Russell. Staring Hugh Grant, Peter Capaldi, and Amanda Donohoe, the plot is loosely based on Bram Stroker’s last novel, which has a few similarities to H. P. Lovecraft's novella The Shadow Over Innsmouth, which was made into the Spanish film Dagon. Very British all around, a bit like Hot Fuzz meets Clue, this could have been played straight and potentially been scary, but Russell didn’t intend to be serious. A topless snake demon wearing a death strap-on to sacrafice a virgin can’t be taken as *cinema* after all. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Not great film by any stretch, but pretty fun!

Lake Mungo - Presented as a made-for-TV type of mystery documentary, this could have really turned out poorly. Despite some unnecessary plot additions, this movie really stuck with me. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Sadder than you might expect.

The Langoliers - Balki Bartokomous is the villain in this made-for-TV special. He is terrible and the rest of the cast is packed with 90s no-name actors and a child actor that might as well be the blind version of a kid Liz Lemon. You know how Stephen King writes himself into every. single. story? In this case it's not even as a plot device, it's just a character to fill space like an obvious oracle. In the book, the character tearing paper is a subtle, unsettling mannerism you assume happens quietly in the background, but because television writers treat their audiences like distracted five year-olds, this action becomes a reoccurring focus with no point or context. One of the best parts about the book was imagining the wide, empty space of the Denver airport. Of course, shutting down an entire airport would be expensive, so most of the interactions take place in a single terminal, which is just as boring as being stuck at the airport yourself. Two 1994-era Windows screen savers eat Balki at the end, then, like, all of reality, maaaaaaaan. The more I think about it, this story might have been the unconscious basis for a strong Salvia freak out I once had. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. Dear male, white writers, we all know that no one actually fucks writers in real life - that's why you're all so angry. Stop creating these protagonists equipped with impossible pussy-magnets. Stop. Staaaaaaaahp.

The Last House of the Left - Wes Craven’s debut isn’t much of a horror, but a revenge tale that contains no build up or sense of dread, but an immediate and unrelenting assault of its characters and the audience. It’s well-made, and the rape revenge tale is older than Titus Andronicus, but that doesn’t mean it’s something worth viewing. There’s no joy; it’s Pink Flamingos without the camp. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. No doubt impactful, but really best viewed as a piece of history with a critical eye and not for entertainment.

The Legend of Hell House - A well made haunted house film that holds up forty years later. Pamela Franklin, playing a medium, carries much of the movie. Her foil, the physicist, is a strange character. He apparently believes people, and even dead bodies, can manifest surreal, electromagnetic energies, but not in “surviving personalities.” Yet, he still orders this giant “reverse energy” machine to “drain” the house of its evil before they even set out to research house. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Dangerous diner parties, the insatiable Mrs. Barret, mirrored ceilings and kick ass Satan statues everywhere - this house seems pretty great, actually.

The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires - A blast to watch, but not truly great. Unfortunately, I’ve only seen the edited version (The 7 Brothers Meet Dracula) that mixes up the beginning for no real reason and wonder how much better the original cut might be. Still, vampires! Kung Fu! Peter Cushing! 3 out of 5 pumpkins.


Let the Right One In - Beautiful and terribly haunting. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Likely the best horror movie this generation will get.

Let Me In - Surprising good. Unnecessary, yes. But still good. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Fun fact: I once watched an *ahem* found copy of Matt Reeves‘s Dawn of the Planet of the Apes without the ape subtitles and thought it was a brave choice to make the audience sympathize with the common humanity among our species. I was also pretty high.

Life After Beth - Jeff Baena‘s horror comedy features a terrific Aubrey Plaza, but Dane DeHaan’s character leaves a lot to be desired. It seems like the film is trying to save something about life, love, and family, but never finds its voice. A fine, funny movie to watch on a rainy afternoon. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Lifeforce - Directed by Tobe Hooper (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) and written by Dan O'Bannon (Alien) is a film the suffers from “the disease of more.” The entire concept of space vampires is rad as hell, but a $25 million budget and a 70 mm production couldn’t save what ends up being a boring trod and a jumbled ending that somehow makes major city destruction tiring. Though, to be fair, this was well before Independence Day. Colin Wilson, author of the original source material, said it was the worst movie he has ever seen. I wouldn’t go that far, but during a special 70 mm screening, the theater host chastised the audience in advance to not make fun of the movie during the showing because it was “a great film.” Reader, it is not. But Mathilda May looks real good naked and there are a couple cool, gory shots. So, there’s that. I guess. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Patrick Stewart is in this for all of like 10 minutes, but is still listed as a main character.

The Lighthouse - From The Witch’s Robert Eggers, this film is objectively a great work of art. Brooding, stark, and compelling performances from Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson—all the elements add up into a unique and disturbing experience. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. All that said, in the same way I consider Death Spa a 2 pumpkin movie you should see, this is a 4 pumpkin movie you could probably skip. It’s not entertaining in the traditional sense, and likely not one you’d want to really ever see again. The Eggers brothers made something weirdly niche and it’s fine if it stays that way.

Little Evil - A serviceable comedy that isn’t all that scary or even gory, which is a disappointment considering Eli Craig’s Tucker & Dale vs. Evil was so good. There are a few nods to famous horror movies that make a handful of scene enjoyable, but otherwise it’s purely background material. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Little Monsters - A Hulu original that’s pretty fun, if ultimately standing on the shoulders of giants like George A. Romero and Edgar Wright. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

A Lizard in a Woman's Skin - Lucio Fulci’s erotic mystery starts out with groovy sex parties and hallucinations, but quickly gets dull in the middle with extended scenes of psychological assessment, only to wind up where we all started. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Lodge - A good exercise in isolation horror that, while a bit slow, ratchets up the tension and horror with each act. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Damn kids.

The Lost Boys - A fun, campy 80s vampire flick you’ve likely heard of or even seen. I get why it’s cemented in popular culture, but at the end of the day it’s a Joel Schumacher film with a silly plot. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Love Witch - Somewhere between earnest satire and homage, The Love Witch is a well-crafted throwback to 1960s schlock. Weaving in contemporary gender critique, the film is more than just a rehash of its sexual fore-bearers. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Mandy (2018) - Like watching a bad trip from afar, Beyond the Black Rainbow director Panos Cosmatos (son of the Tombstone director) pulls off a trippy, dreadful film that starts out with story that follows logic and consequence before giving over to the full weirdness of Nicholas Cage’s uniquely unhinged style of acting. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Jóhann Jóhannsson’s score is superb.

Midsommar - Though not as good as Aster’s Hereditary, Midsommar sticks with you longer. Eerie throughout and disturbing, but not frightening in the traditional sense, it’s no surprise this film seems to split viewers into devoted fans and downright haters. Florence Pugh’s performance is wonderful and the scenes of drugged-out dread are far better than what was attempted in Climax. Some critics have called the film muddled and shallow, and certainly the “Ugly American” character fits in the later, but I found it to be a remarkably clear vision compared to the jumbled ending of Hereditary. That said, it’s not a scary movie, it’s simply unnerving. Should a male director and writer be the one to tell this tale? Probably not. But it’s not wholly unredemptive. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. I first gave this film 3 pumpkins, but the more I think about it, the more it lingers. That counts for something. One more pumpkin to be exact.

Mimic - Without del Toro’s name attached, perhaps this movie wouldn’t be judged so harshly. Yet, though the shadowy, lingering shots he’s know for give a real sense of darkness to the picture, it’s a chore to sit through and is especially frustrating toward the end. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Mist - Watch the black and white version, which adds an ol’ timey feel to this Lovecraftian tale from Steven King and makes always-outdated CGI a bit more palpable. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Monster (2016) - From The Strangers Bryan Bertino, this monster movie that ties in a trouble mother/daughter relationship doesn’t ever overcome its limitations and poor character decisions that get protagonists in deeper trouble. Zoe Kazan does what she can to carry the role. Not bad, but not much below the surface. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Monsters (2010) - A slow-burn that relies on its actors to push the suspense of a road-trip-style plot, leaving the special effects for subtle and beautiful moments. Arguably more of a sci-fi thriller than a true horror flick, it’s still worth viewing if you’re looking for something spooky. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

mother! - Like many of Aronosky’s films, mother! is difficult to define by genre. Though not a typical haunted house film, the bloody, unsettling aspects make it more than a typical psychological thriller. Haunting in a similar fashion of Black Swan, yet broader in theme like The Fountain, this movie is challenging, disturbing and frustrating in the sense that, as a mere viewer, you’re left feeling like there’s something you’ll never fully understand despite being beaten over the head. An not-so-subtle allegory about love, death, creation, mankind, god, and the brutality women must endure, it’s a hideous reminder that, upon even the briefest reflection, life’s cosmic journey is macabre. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Ms. 45 - Ahead of its time, especially considering the unfortunate “rape revenge” sub-genre that seemed to cater to male fantasy than female empowerment. Still, it’s slow build and random scenes toward the finale leave it wanting. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Oh, the knife is a dick. I get it. 

Murder Party - A bit like Tucker and Dale vs. Evil, but for New York art kids. Even for being a horror comedy, there’s only like 20 minutes of horror, which is too bad as there’s material to mine instead of a prolonged rooftop chase scene. If this was a studio production, it’d probably just get 2 pumpkins, but given it’s $200k budget and at-the-time unknown cast, it’s a solid first feature for Jeremy Saulnier and Macon Blair, who went on to make some truly great films. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

National Lampoon’s Class Reunion - Flat out awful; neither a comedy nor a horror. Writer John Hughes claims he was fired from production, though that doesn’t hold much water considering he’s credited as “Girl with bag on head” and went on to write several other Lampoon movies. Director Michael Miller didn’t make another feature film for almost thirty years, which wasn’t long enough. 0 out of 5 pumpkins.

Near Dark - Kathryn Bigelow‘s sophomore film is hampered by its ultimate ending, but the story is original and well produced. Even Bill Paxton’s over-the-top performance is enjoyable. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Worst. Vampire. Ever.

The Neon Demon - A spiritual successor to Suspiria, this film from Drive director Nicolas Winding Refn is beautifully shot, but ultimately empty. While both Jena Malone and Keanu Reeves breathe life into their small roles, the cast of models rarely shine. The horrific ending goes a step too far without lingering long enough to truly shock. Though much better than the extremely similar Starry Eyes, it’s difficult to give this film a higher rating. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Worth watching for a couple standout scenes. 

Night of the Living Dead - Viewed today the film seems almost tame, but in 1968 it was lambasted for being too gorey and sparked calls for censorship. And to its credit, there wasn’t anything else like it at the time. Romero’s incredibly small budget, Duane Jones‘s great performance, and the film’s unintended symbolism make its success all the more impressive. Kudos to MoMA and The Film Foundation for restoring this important piece of cinema history. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. I argue this is a sci-fi film, if you think about it.

A Night to Dismember (The "Lost" Version) - This version appeared on YouTube in the summer of 2018, decades after it was originally filmed. The version that was released in 1989 on VHS, and later in 2001 on DVD, was entirely re-shot with adult film actress Samantha Fox after a disgruntled processing employee destroyed the original negatives. The re-shoot gave the released version of movie its “sexplotation” vibe that director Doris Wishman was know for producing, but he original version is more of a straight-forward psychotic slasher movie with only a scene of campy nudity and stars Diana Cummings, instead of Fox. Gone is the striptease, sex hallucinations, detective character, and asylum plot that were slapped together in the released version, leaving a still somewhat jumbled story of a young woman who goes on a killing spree after becoming possessed by her dead mother, who died in pregnancy, leaving her an orphan. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Poor Mary. Poor Vicki.

Nightmare on Elm Street - Why this movie sparked a generations-long series is almost as puzzling as how Children of the Corn pulled it off as well. The movie flat out ignores basic storytelling devices. Recalling the overall plot, you’re not even sure if the main character is better off alive or dead, given the horrifying reality she already exists within. Consider this: Her father is an authoritarian cop leading the world’s worse police force and her mother is a drunk, possessive vigilante arsonist. University doctors are so inept they focus solely on Colonial-era medicine to the point of ignoring a metaphysical phenomenon, believing teenage girls are attention-starved enough to smuggle hats embroidered with a dead child-killer’s name inside their vaginas to a sleep deprivation study. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. So much for the classics. At least this gave us the future gift of inspiring Home Alone-style defense antics.

Not of This Earth (1988) - This film, and I mean that artistically, was made because the director, Jim Wynorskin, bet he could remake the original on the same inflation-adjusted budget and schedule as the 1957 version by Roger Corman. Traci Lords makes her non-adult film debut and is a better actor than the rest of the cast combined. The gem isn’t so bad it’s good, it’s so godawful it’s incredible. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. I was looking for the trashiest horror movie on Netflix, and I believe I have found it.

One Cut of the Dead - Know as little as possible going into this one. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. It’s impossible to not enjoy this film.

One Dark Night - Starts out interesting, but quickly gets forgetable even with the central location of a haunted cemetery. Worth putting on the background. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Aaaaaadddaaaammmm Weeeeessssst.

The Others - Well-paced, nicely shot, superior acting by Nicole Kidman, ominous tone through out, great ending. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. One of my personal favorites.

Pan's Labyrinth - del Torro’s best work, combining the tinges of war dread and the fantastical elements that would go on to be a key part of his other films. Pale Man is one of the creepiest monsters to ever be captured on screen. Perhaps the biggest horror is that though you’ll cheer for the anarchists, the historical fact is that the Nationalists won and established a dictatorship for nearly forty years. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. No god, no country, no master.

The People Under the Stairs - When the main character of a horror movie would be better placed in a zany after-school sitcom, the entire story is bound to fail. Little did I know how far. Twin Peaks actors aside, the rest of the this movie is so convoluted and poorly explained that it made me hate Panic Room somewhat less. They can't all be winners. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. At the end of this movie, a house explodes and money rains down on poor, mostly black people. Thanks, Wes Craven!

Pet Sematary (2019) - Uninspiring, uneven, and mostly uneventful. 1 out of 5 pumpkins.

Poltergeist - If you haven't seen this Steven Speilberg produced & written, but not directed horror movie, it's worth a modern viewing. Original, yet tinged with all the classic elements of fear, this movie manages to tug on the heartstrings like a family-friendly drama while still being creepy as hell. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. The best, most expensive Holiday Inn commercial ever made.

Pontypool - Good, but not as great as hyped. Characters are introduced haphazardly and the explanation for the horror barely tries to make sense. Still, not bad for a movie with essentially three characters stuck in a single location. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Possession (1981) - Described by some die-hard horror fans as a “must see,” I guess I agree. It’s by no means a masterpiece, but it’s bizarre enough to take the time to check out. It’s a sort of Cold War psychological horror as if written by Clive Barker and directed by David Cronenberg. Of course that comparison is necessary for American readers, but Polish director Andrzej Żuławski is an art-house favorite, whose second film was banned by his home government, causing him to move to France. Often panned for “over acting,” Isabelle Adjani actually won best actress at Cannes in 1981. Though, you may find one particular scene as if Shelley Duvall is having a bad acid trip. Part of the appeal of seeing this film is the difficulty in finding a copy. The DVD is out of print, and the new Mondo Blu-ray is limited to 2,000 copies at $70 a piece. Good luck. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. If you’re looking for something weird and very European, seek it out.

Prometheus - Perhaps because Ridley Scott’s return the franchise was expected to be such a welcome refresher after the abysmal failures of others in the series, this one was a pretty big let down. Though there are some cool concepts and frightening scenes, there are anger-inducing plot mistakes and zero sympathetic characters. Michael Fassbender’s performance is terrific, yet not enjoy to be an enjoyable view. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Psycho - Not as great at The Birds, but still one of the best. The superb shots, painfully slow clean up of the first kill, it’s no wonder why the film is landmark for horror. Anthony Perkins is tremendous. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Remember when Gus Van Sant remade this shot-for-shot for literally no reason and lost $30 million? It’s like he has to make one really terrible bomb after each critical hit and then crawl back again.

Pumpkinhead - The production quality of this 80s horror flick is surprisingly high, especially the Henson-like monster. Long story short - asshole dude bro accidentally kills hick kid, hick father calls up demon to seek revenge. All in all, not a bad movie. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Given the title, the monster's head in this movie is shockingly not very pumpkin-like. Boo.

A Quiet Place - John Krasinski gets a lot of credit for playing a well-intentioned father, which is an easier bridge to his well-known character from The Office, rather than a military member, like in many of his other projects. Emily Blunt is wonderful as is Millicent Simmonds. The creatures are scary, reminiscent of The Demogorgon in Stranger Things, and the plot is decent, even without much of an ending. I’ll be honest, I didn’t really want to enjoy this film as much as I did. It seemed too “mainstream.” And, it is. But it’s also a well-executed, well-acted, well-produced product, which is much more difficult to pull off than it sounds. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Worth recommending to friends who aren’t even horror fans.

Rabid - No where near the level of Cronenberg’s best or even his subsequent film The Brood, but still very good. Apparently Cronenberg wanted Sissy Spacek to play the lead, but was shot down by the producers. Obviously Marilyn Chambers was selected to play up the porn star angle in the hopes of greater marketing for the indie, horror film out of Canada, but she does a great job in her first mainstream role. If you like any Cronenberg has done, you should watch this one. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Raw - A terrific coming-of-age, sexual-awakening, body-horror film that manages to retain its heart even as it pushes the limits. One of the best horror movies of the last decade. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Nom-nom.

Re-Animator - Creepy actor Jeffrey Combs is also in The Frighteners, which makes it a good nod in that flick. "Say hello to these, Michael!" When you see it, you'll get it. What can be said of this movie? It's crazy. It's great. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Gory, campy, funny and scary all at once, a definite classic.

Ready or Not - I wouldn’t go so far as to call this movie “clever,” but it’s certainly better than its absurd premise. Samara Weaving’s performance is really the only thing that keeps people watching. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Killing all the attractive help is played off as a joke, but . . . it’s not? At least rich people die.

Repulsion - After having to listen to her sister being drilled by some limey prick night after night in their shared apartment and a series of unwanted street advances triggers her past trauma, a young woman rightfully kills a stalker turned home intruder and her rapist landlord. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Return of The Living Dead  - This movie doesn’t give a wink and nod to horror tropes, it reaches out of the fourth wall to slap you in the face to create new ones. There’s an entire character that is just naked the whole movie. I understand that just because it’s a joke it doesn’t mean it’s not still sexist. But, also, you know, boobs. 4 out 5 pumpkins. What was created as camp became the foundation for modern zombies.

Return of the Living Dead III - A love story of sorts that takes a more series turn than the original. At first, I didn’t enjoy the uneven balance of camp and earnestness, but it oddly grows on you. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Worth watching to see what you think.

The Ritual - A Netflix original that is better than it needs to be about regret, trauma, and fear that gets right into the action and wraps fairly satisfying. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Rosemary's Baby - If you're looking for a sure party killer this October, put on this number and watch your guests fall asleep! Often forgot, the beginning and end of Rosemary's Baby are terrifying, expertly filmed scenes of dread, but the middle is a two-hour wink to the film's conclusion revolving around an expectant mother. Still, few other films can capture fear the way Polanski's does; all the more impressive that it stands up today. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. If you haven't seen this film, you owe it to yourself to watch it this season.

Scanners - Cronenberg’s 1981 film feels like a much more successful version of what De Palma attempted with The Fury. Dark, paranoid, and ultra-gory in key scenes, Scanners isn’t quite the perfect sci-fi horror, but it’s damn close. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Scream - For a movie that birthed an annoying amount of sequels and spoofs, it's sort of sad that Wes Craven's meta-parody ended up creating a culture of the very movies he was trying to rail against. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Worth watching again, even if you saw it last year.

Sea Fever - A good, but not great, tense thriller on sea. Plus, an important lesson in quarantine. Ultimately, it doesn’t go far enough to present its horror. A well-made, and even well-paced film with a limited cast and sparse special effects, though. There’s nothing explicitly “wrong” as the movie progresses, but a tighter script and bigger ratcheting of the horror could have made it a classic. The ending is kinda cheesy the more I think about it. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Could’ve used a sex scene with some impending doom is all I’m saying!

The Sentinel - I really wanted to love this one. Downstairs lesbians! Birthday parties for cats! Late 70s New York! Alas, its shaky plot and just baffling lack of appropriate cues make it mostly a jumbled mess only worth watching if that slow-burn 70s horror aesthetic is your thing. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Shallows - Mostly a vehicle for Blake Lively’s launch from TV to the big screen, this movies isn’t particularly good or bad. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. The shark has a powerful vendetta against Lively. What did she do?!

Shaun of the Dead - First in Three Flavours Cornetto, some of the jokes don’t land as well as they did in 2004, but still a great spin on the zombie genre with loads of laughs and a bit of heart. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Shining - The pinnacle of the form. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. "So why don't you start now and get the fuck outta here!" Harsh, but come on, Wendy kinda sucks.

Shivers - Cronenberg’s 1975 shocker flick is . . . fine. You certainly get to see how some of his body horror themes started. Cronenberg himself seems to see it as more of a film to watch to understand what not to do as a young director. If you’re a completist, definitely check it out. Otherwise just skip to 1977′s Rabid, if you’re looking for Cronenberg’s earlier work. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Not bad considering it was shot in two weeks.

Silent Night, Deadly Night - Whoo, boy. This one’s a ride. A decidedly anti-PC flick that caused calls for boycotts when it was first released, this movie is full of assault and uncomfortable situations. It’s also hilarious, gory, and worth watching in a large group. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Punish.

Sleepaway Camp - I must be missing something, because like Children of the Corn, I can’t understand why this movie became a cult-classic. A guy who openly talks about wanting to rape children is gruesomely maimed, so there’s that? I guess. A couple of these “kids” are definitely 34, while others are 14. Is this the basis for Wet Hot American Summer? I don’t know or care. 2 out 5 pumpkins. Just watch Friday the 13th.

Slither - Almost on the level of other spoofs, but with a few groan-worthy moments. Definitely one to watch if looking for something fun. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Not for the bug fearing.

The Slumber Party Massacre - Rita Mae Brown wrote this movie as a parody of the slasher genre that spawned so many Halloween copycats. It’s a bit unfortunate that we didn’t get her version. Author of pioneering lesbian novel Rubyfruit Jungle, Brown’s script was turned into a more straight-forward flick, giving the movie some baffling humor, like when one of the girls decides to eat the pizza from the dead delivery boy, and some untended humor, like the Sylvester Stallone issue of Playgirl. Lesbians undertones still prevail, as do lingering shots of gratuitous nudity, and enough phallic symbolism to write a paper about. All in all, a fun, albeit uneven movie with pretty decent dialogue. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Fun fact: Director Amy Holden Jones got her start as an assistant on Taxi Driver, passed on editing E.T. after Roger Corman offered to finance early filming for her directorial debut, and later went on to write Mystic Pizza, Beethoven, Indecent Proposal, and The Relic. Bonus fact: Playgirl was able to get nude photos of Stallone based on his first movie The Party at Kitty and Stud’s (aka The Italian Stallion), for which Stallone was reportedly paid $200 to star in during a period in his life when he was desperate and sleeping in a New York bus station.

The Slumber Party Massacre II - If the first movie was a knock-off of Halloween, this is a bizarre rip-off of The Nightmare on Elm Street with a rockabilly twist. It’s hard to tell if this is a parody or a sort of musical vehicle for the Driller Killer, who—to his credit—is somehow almost charismatic enough to it pull off. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. Somehow the weirdest movie I’ve ever watched.

The Slumber Party Massacre III - A return to form, in some respects. All the elements of the original are there: a slumber party, gratuitous nudity, a drill. But the driller killer’s poor-man’s Patrick Bateman character quickly becomes tired. Not terrible for a slasher flick, but not very good either. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. How many lamps to the head can Ken take? 

Species - If I asked you to name a movie staring Sir Benjamin Kingsley, Alfred Molina, Forest Whitaker and Michelle Williams, would you guess Species? No, no you fucking wouldn't. We all know Species, but I, like most, erased it from my memory. This was helpful for two reasons: first because for about the first half of the movie, you think there might be a decent flick happening - baring some obvious flaws of a blockbuster. Second because - holy shit - you get to see a ton of naked breasts in this movie, like way more than I remember. Unfortunately, about halfway through Species someone must have come in and realized having the B-squad Scully & Mulder be one step behind every instinct killing was boring as shit, and flashing tits every 20 mins wasn't going to hack it. Whatever Hollywood dickbag crafted this turd failed to realize the casting of the actor forever known as Bud from Kill Bill is the only white, macho-postering character that morons want to root for. And so we get a squint-faced protagonist getting blow jobs from a coworker scientist and an ending dumber than the boob tentacles he should have been strangled with. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. There are worse horror movies, but there are also much better ones.

Starry Eyes - A thinly-veiled critique on Hollywood’s abusive history with actresses, the movie starts out well, but lags in the third act before a gruesome finale. Sort of a low-rent Mulholland Drive. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Watch out for that barbell, Ashley. 

The Stuff - Odd, mostly because of its uneven tone. Like if The Blob, The Live, and Canadian Bacon raised a baby and that disappointed its parents, like all babies eventually do. There are some good horror and comedic moments, but none of which make it great. The sound editing is remarkably bad, and the poor cuts make no sense given its scope. Oh well. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Suspiria - More of a focus on set, sound, and color than characters, Suspiria is reminiscent of the Japanese classic House, but with a more straightforward story. The Italian director, English language, and German setting make for an interesting, offbeat feel that adds to the overall weirdness of the movie. One cringe worthy scene in particular makes up for its immediate lack of logic, and the soundtrack by Goblin stands up on its own. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Sexist note: there’s a shocking lack of boobs given the subject matter.

Suspiria (2018) - Another in a long line of unnecessary remakes, though technically more of an homage. Luca Guadagnino’s version was supposedly developed for years alongside Tilda Swinton, who plays three different characters. Truthfully, without any attachment to the original, this could have been a muddled, but remarkable film. Thom Yorke’s score is perfect in certain scenes, yet detracting in others. The plot is similar in this manner. Some scenes are haunting and dense, but others needlessly detailed. The dance scenes are terrific, but weighed down by the larger war themes. The ending’s gore-fest is hampered by too much CGI, but still demonically fun. Fans of the original won’t find the weird, colorful elements to love, but it’s a good movie, albeit thirty minutes too long. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Taking of Deborah Logan - Good premise; found footage in the vein of Blair Witch Project of a demon possession disguised as Alzheimer’s disease. But, the movie can’t decide if it wants to stick to its foundation of a student documentary or veer into the studio-style editing and affects of theatrical release. Which is unfortunate as the former would have made it stand-out among a pack of mediocre ghost stories, while the later distracts from the setting it seeks to establish. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Teeth - A movie about the myth of vagina dentata could have been absolutely deplorable, but with the bar so low, Teeth does a pretty good job. Jess Weixler is a functional actress, not necessarily stand-out, but certainly far better than the role requires. Trying to tightrope walk between comedy and horror is never a task a creator should set out upon without a clear vision. Unfortunately, this one seems a bit blurry. One its release, Boston Globe said the movie “runs on a kind of angry distrust toward boys.” Not bad advice. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Terrifier - Do you want to see a naked woman hung upside down and sawed from gash to forehead? Then this is the movie for you. That’s it. There’s not much else here. Gino Cafarelli is good as the pizza guy. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. The clown is scary, though.

The Terror - A classic haunted throwback from Roger Corman, but without the nudity and gore his later work is infamous for. A young Jack Nicholson proves he was always kind of a prick. Boris Karloff does his best. The plot is pretty boring, but it’s a decent movie that you might stumble upon on a lazy afternoon on cable TV. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre - Tobe Hooper’s 1974 persuasive argument for vegetarianism is just as terrifying today as it was when it was released. Just as Halloween launched a thousand imitators, the hues and low angles in this film set the standard for horror for years and, unfortunately, laid the groundwork for more exploitative movies offered referred to as “torture porn.” Though gory, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’s sense of weird dread is established well before the chainsaw rips, and though many have tried to follow in its footsteps, none have captured the lighting that adds to the overall queasy moments of the film. There’s a kind of simplistic beauty to such unexplained brutality, and perhaps because it was first, all others since haven’t seemed as artistically valuable. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. So, umm, what do you think happened to the Black Maria truck driver?

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003) - The only decent carry over from this remake is John Larroquette as the narrator. Over-washed tones, over-the-top gore and unsympathetic characters make this film more than unnecessary, placing among the worst horror remakes of all time. Robert Ebert gave it one of his rare 0 stars, reserved for works he found genuinely appalling such as I Spit On Your Grave, The Human Centipede 2, and most infamously John Waters’s Pink Flamingos. 1 out of 5 pumpkins.

They Live - “I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass… And I'm all out of bubblegum." 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Thing - Trying to give this film an honest review is almost impossible. Cast out on its release for being too bizarre and gory, Carpenter’s nihilist tale has since come to be seen as a masterpiece for its special effects, bleak tone, and lasting impact on other creators. Is it perfect? No, but it’s damn close. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. MacReady’s assimilated. Deal with it.

Train to Busan - A bit too predictable, but a solid, well-paced zombie action flick that’s smarter than most American blockbusters from Korean director Yeon Sang-ho, who is better known for his semi-autobiographical animated features. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

Tucker & Dale vs. Evil - I really didn't expect much out of this movie, but it's actually really, really funny and a really gory spoof. Not quite on the scale of The Cabin in the Woods, but still pretty damn great. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. If you don't think people getting hacked up by a chainsaw in certain contexts can be funny, then this probably ain't your bag.

Twins of Evil - An enjoyable, somewhat smutty vampire movie from the famous British studio Hammer Films, staring Peter Cushing and Playboy Playmates the Collinson twins. Directed by John Hough, who also directed The Legend of Hell House, the film doesn’t break any new ground and is loaded with over-acting, but it’s well-paced, wonderfully set, and generally fun to watch, where the Puritan witchfinders are just as horrible as the vampires. Not as great as Black Sunday, but still worth viewing. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Let Joachim speak, you racists.

Under the Skin - Mesmerizing and haunting. The less you know going into this film the better. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. Quite possibly Scarlett Johansson’s best work.

Under the Silver Lake - Technically a “comedic neo-noir,” whatever the fuck that means; in any case David Robert Mitchell (It Follows) tries to do too much over too long of a run time. Andrew Garfield gives a decent performance, especially considering he’s in almost every frame of the film. But the edge-of-subtly that made It Follows so modern and terrifying is replaced by a silk, wandering, and heavy-handed stroll through the powerful Los Angeles entertainment Illuminati. Certainly there’s material there, but instead of being a radical stab at the very real institutions of pop-culture that treat young women as nothing more than disposable meat, we drift in and out of a young man’s lust that revels in objectification without the sleazy charm of exploitation flicks or the critical eye of outright satire. Even the eerily presence of the Owl Woman can’t level-up what is an exercise in arrested development for hipsters. 2 out of 5 pumpkins. Despite this negative review, Mitchell still has plenty of potential to make another great film. Whether he deserves that chance is different question.

Us - Jordan Peele’s second film is even better than his great debut. Us isn’t perfect, but hints at what Peele could create in the future. Unnecessary explanation and slightly oddly timed humor are present, like in Get Out, but more restrained. Peele’s talent for making modern horror accessible to the widest audience is laudable. Still, I can’t wait to see what he makes two or three films down the road. I suspect more than one could come close to equaling that of Kubrik’s The Shinning. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. 

Vampire’s Kiss - Is it a horror? Is it a comedy? Is it a parody? Drama? This movie truly defies genre due to the inexplicable acting choices made by Nicholas Cage. His odd affectation doesn’t change from sentence to sentence, but word to word. It’s like he’s trying to play three different characters across three different acts all at once. Is it good? Not really. But, I mean, see it. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Vampyros Lesbos - After vigorous encouragement from my academic colleagues, I decided to watch this 1971 Spanish-German film for, umm, science. Shot in Turkey and staring the tragic Soledad Miranda, Jesús Franco’s softcore horror jumps right into full-frontal nudity and attempts a sort of story involving Count Dracula that moves forward through uninteresting monologues and shaky camera work. It’s not awful, but there’s no reason to watch it. If it was playing in the background at a dive bar, it might have a tinge of charm. Other than some close moments of near-unapologetic queer sex, despite being created almost entirely for the male gaze, it’s just another in the pile of European exploitation. Still, it’s fun to daydream about Istanbul being ruled by a dark-haired demonic lesbian; beats the hell out of what we have in our reality. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. Fun fact: The soundtrack found renewed fame in 1990′s Britain, causing it to finally find distribution into America.

The Vault - A serviceable, but ultimately boring horror take on a bank heist that tries to hard to end with a twist. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

V/H/S - Every review I've seen for this movie is generally positive, but that only reaffirms my belief that most people are easily pleased by unintelligent, unoriginal bullshit. A Blair Witch-style story-within-a-story collection of shorts, I couldn't get past the first borderline date-rape, little-girl, sexually confused, monster story. Fuck this trope. Fuck this movie. The much delayed glorification of grisly murder of the offending male villains is hardly radical and only further supports the stereotypes of patriarchy much as it attempts to subvert a worn genre. 0 out of 5 pumpkins. I hate the world.

Videodrome - Cronenberg’s best film. James Woods’s best role; it’s a shame that he’s total piece of shit in real life. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Long live the new flesh.

The Wailing - Despite clocking in at over two and half hours, this part zombie/part demon horror movie from Korean director Na Hong-jin isn’t a slow burn, but rather an intriguing maze of twists and turns as the main character (and audience) struggles to find the truth about a mysterious, murderous diseases sweeping through a small village. Actor Do-won Kwak gives an especially captivating performance. Though the ending packs a powerful punch, the overlapping lies and half-truths told over the course of the film makes it a bit difficult to suss out the evil roots. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

We Are Still Here - What sets out as a slowly paced ghost story turns into something of a gore-fest towards the ends, which doesn’t make it bad so much out of place. 3 out fo 5 pumpkins. Could’ve been a contender.

We Are What We Are - A remake of Jorge Michel Grau’s 2010 film, the American version takes its time getting to the horror before going a step too far at the end. Still, the ever-present knowledge that you’re watching a cannibal film makes some of predictable moments all-the-more horrifying. 3 out of 5 pumpkins.

Wes Craven’s New Nightmare - The novel charm of Craven’s meta Freddy saga has worn with age. Heather Langernkamp is passable, but not enough to carry the film and Robert Englund out of makeup shatters the pure evil illusion of his character. Interesting to see some of the ideas that would later synthesize in Scream, but otherwise kind of a bore. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

The Witch: A New-England Folktale - A deeply unsettling period-piece that reflects on American religion and its violent fear of feminine power. 5 out of 5 pumpkins. Trust no goat.

The Witches - Roald Dahl’s story is ultimately crushed by a changed ending, however, Nicolas Roeg‘s adaptation up to that point is a fun, creepy movie people of any age can enjoy. 4 out of 5 pumpkins. It’s really a shame the original ending was changed.

Wolfcop - When a movie’s title promises so much, maybe it’s not fair to judge. But there’s so much campy potential in a werewolf cop picture that it’s kind of a bummer to see it executed at level that makes you wonder if it wasn’t made by high school kids whose favorite movie is Super Troopers. 1 out of 5 pumpkins. God, the movie’s horrible.

The World’s End - The final chapter in the Three Flavours Cornetto and the best, showcasing a wealth of talent at the top of their game. 4 out of 5 pumpkins.

XX - Admittedly, I don’t care much for the recent spring of short horror anthologies. Rarely do they have enough time to build the necessary suspense horror movies require. Still, two of the shorts are OK, one is pretty good, and one is bad. So, not a total loss. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

You’re Next - Home-invasion horror as never been my cup of hippie tea as it feeds into the 2nd Amendment hero fantasy of American males. That said, this dark-comedy take on it isn't bad. Some things don’t really add up. For example: Are you telling me that the deep woods home of a former defense corporation employee doesn’t have a single gun stashed somewhere? Bullshit. Anyway, who doesn’t want to see a rich family’s bickering dinner interrupted by a gang of psycho killers? 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Bonus rating: 6 out of 10 would fuck in front of their dead mother. (Sorry, mom.)

Zombeavers - No one would say this is a good movie, but it also doesn’t take itself too seriously. Not at funny as Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, and certainly more formulaic, this one’s only worth watching if you’re bored. 2 out of 5 pumpkins.

Zombi 2 - Lucio Fulci’s unofficial sequel to Dawn of the Dead is one of his best films. But even though Fulci crafted some of the best zombies to ever appear on screen—filmed in the bright, Caribbean sun, the film suffers, as most of his do, from some unnecessary, borderline confusing plot points and poor dubbing. Still, well worth watching on a lazy day, especially for the final act, when the protaganists fight off a zombie hoard inside a burning church. 3 out of 5 pumpkins. Bonus: topless scuba diving zombie shark fight, which is also my new DJ name.

[deviationdivine]

Wake Up | domestic!Android AU Part 1 (Connor x Reader)

gif by arsuf 

F!reader x Connor

13.6k words

Detroit: Become Human - 1 Year Anniversary Release Celebration

A revolution may divide the city but it will never divide you...

tw: Angst, Fluffy Connor in the midst, Language, Suggestive Themes, Violence

a/n: First part of mini-series AU “Wake Up”. An introductory chapter one. Apologies for how long this took but I struggled and I am not happy with the end result. However, it’s finally here. • Connor is the latest high tech domestic model built with a collection of extra features, skills and functions making him the most advanced of his kind. As your personal assistant he is equipped with becoming the perfect partner if you so require. Falling in love with your personal android was never part of the equation nor was his break into deviancy...

“My name is Connor. I am your personal assistant. My features will allow me to take extensive care of your home, do the cooking, mind children and repair any problematic issues that arise within the household’s utilities. 

As I am the most advanced make I can perform various tasks including but not limited to acts of a sexual nature. If you so require I am capable of being the perfect partner…”

Perfect is a conceptual illusion in every sense or so you come to believe. Why do humans think in terms of excellence when most shining examples tarnish in glaring flaws? Even technology can be made wrong or needing improvement not long after distribution. Faulty wiring, danger of overheating and causing harm of a radioactive proponent all seem minuscule in comparison. 

Today, in the future, there is a grander blueprint mapping out the most innovative, extreme to date.

When it becomes alive, mimics the very corporeal state of being born unto humans since man breathed life in this vast universe, mirroring visage of those who wish to create in their likeness.

How does it go from technological wonder to abstruse thinking? Concepts can be a greater weapon. They can also reach for too much too soon. Is this the true state of AI meant for consumer consumption?

Cart them off exclusively as merchandise no matter how human they look. Isn’t that their appeal? The more something foreign, inexplicable but resembles us the more it is accepted. Basic instinctual deep thinking bred into all humans. Difference is an attest beneath surface value. Judge a book by a cover but if there are features hiding its distinct nature by all means use it.

Laziness might be a better solution in this mathematical equation. Imperfect perfection makes way for future development. Those are the very elements that change the world.

Can you even imagine for one second, one little point in life it would come to change yours? So small in a world full of billions but here in Detroit home of Cyberlife and its creation the pilot sparks. Alight with technological revolution.

Androids are here. Androids are owned. Bought as slaves to humanity and used beyond measure, no consideration that those made in image could possibly develop feelings. Emotions are heavy. They are what make us all human. Can machine truly become human?

  You never wanted one. Mostly it made you uncomfortable witnessing cruelty by specific ‘owners’ on the bustling city streets. It’s everywhere. Even today, chillier, more specifically a frigidity creeping into bones.

Eyes shift over a couple walking briskly as you draw coat closer together up throat. Keeping wind seeping through to tangle around your body but watching them waltz their merry way without care. Of course they have none. Their female android, an AX400 to be exact, is taking care of two rowdy children.

Honestly it must be nice. Not having to parent after deciding to add more to the burdening populace. Maybe that’s just your pessimism talking. Simple fact though? Could be that too but who knows?

Just another one of those days but it is about to change drastically. Passing a Cyberlife store does pique curiosity. Window displays my God. They line them up as if that’s all they are.

They offer whatever a human wants and yet not all can bother to treat them fairly. Is it enough androids are made to look as everyone else? Would a genuine human being treat another so despicably? Yes. A resounding yes because it never goes away. People treat people with disdain for every reason, every prejudice and why should that shock? Androids have become an additional target. 

Honestly it makes you sick. Never did you once realize this is what would change things completely. On this very day, minding business walking home from another tiring bustle  

More than one occurrence struck you right in the gut. A previous household model absorbs brunt of   obscenities and physical humiliation. A scene like this turned your stomach. 

The moment it came to intervene you received an interrupting phone call. Unfortunately this was the start of big changes in your life.

What does one do discovering death of a relative? Closeness is a fundamental of familial connections. For you? Well, let’s say it didn’t quite work out.

  “What do you mean he…died?” Answering in a quiet breath, cell phone a tight clutch in hand stalling in breezy climate, everything stops around your personal orbit.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” a familiar voice speaks over your ingenious disbelief.

Ignoring your pleas for a proper answer it becomes increasingly cruel on the woman’s breath digging truths in your ear. Whether she realizes this or not it’s up for debate. “You do realize this was coming. It isn’t as if he were young and healthy. Frankly, I am surprised you are having such a negative reaction.”

Negative is exactly the type of reaction! What does she expect? “Of course I’m having a reaction!” Practically screaming into your phone made the chilled air sting worse. How is this happening? How can this even be real?

“Oh, it’s all right, Y/N. Get it out now. It’ll be better if you don’t make a scene at the funeral.”

Anger is a burning pyre ready to fan over and incinerate. One snide comment reminds how much you can’t stand this person. She’s not even blood related. An ‘aunt’ isn’t technically qualified to hold the title and that’s fine. Just another excuse to dig at you in this family but there is no family left. Your father – he’s dead.

Money fixes everything? Unlikely but still nothing surprises you more than receiving something from an estranged parent. Generous sums to a black sheep or as you’re sure greedy auntie bitch of the hour calls you behind your back. She is one woman who deserves that damn moniker. Especially when it’s clear there are no connections left. Aunt Cruella, as christened ages ago by your best friend, made short work of your uncle. Certainly bled him dry continues to do so with his left over money after he succumbed to stress in a massive heart attack. Why do people like her thrive using, snide and heartless while others –?

What can you do then? Except you fall into an overwhelming sense of losing time and never extending an olive branch. Why is the universe so cruel? Why can’t you turn back time, forget every stupid thing that ever happened to drive a rift?

Part of you couldn’t stand the idea of being alone rest of your life. Maybe that’s why using part of a small deposit felt right. Watching so many gradually fall into current technological commercialism lead to most having their own android. It seems almost a little too barbaric making them cater to every whim. Honestly, you have no idea why this is needed. Do you really need him? 

No, he isn’t… He. Yes, he. 

Despite manufacturing Connor is a he in every sense.  Even then you saw as much. Now is much more complicated or you are just as ridiculously naive as you’ve always been told. Who cares about naivety? It is simple opinion. No. This is a belief one that surely would have left nothing to you in an event of final family member’s passing. Yet here you are with him.

You recall when he first arrives unaware of how efficient Cyberlife retail truly is. Why should you be surprised? Deliveries have gone from generic dairy of yesteryear, beyond personalized grocery orders and straight to personalized beings. Androids: alive or not alive?

In conjunction with preprogramming he sounds so lively. In his voice a natural husky dulcet and his eyes a deep soulful brown. Souls in androids are impossible but it’s the only way you think to describe warm chocolate. Hotter than a mug of it steeped in whip cream vanishes as a ghost beneath steaming liquid. 

Flecks of caramel shine in hypnotic swirls enriching accents of russets in muddy hues, the very first thing captivating attention as he offers his list of functions. Even falling upon the last is difficult to decipher how caught up you are in a consummately asymmetrical visage. 

He is far too pretty to look at and you try to ignore these facts. The facts of your newly purchased personal android possessing an aura of physical attractiveness. A fabrication in aesthetics you remember. A way to cover up what he actually is beneath soft synthetic skin dusted as constellations of freckles. 

Tiny beauties cresting upon sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, purposely formed to elicit a reaction. This is not at all what you expected but it’s never something to forget. Little do you realize in this moment Connor will always burn brightest to memory? Little do you understand how events will unfold but they shall.

  “Is there a problem?” he asks habitual to programming. 

Societal protocols run a gamut through system piecing together the best course of action. It is only his first day interior of your home. He is of a sense of determination to complete whatever task you assign. 

Determination is not part of proper function. However, he minded the concept. It will be efficient for current issue. “I may be able to rectify your issue. What do you require of me?”

 Require? What?

You cough, inhaling sharply at his head cocking so innocently. A droop of hair flutters atop forehead as a sole rebel willing to fight immaculate armies. He is very well put together. Not that you mean the whole manufactured part! He just – looks like a really good looking guy who takes care of his appearance. Hair mostly but…

Wow, Y/N. Real nice for your first try at handling a conversation with an android.

Not that this is the first android you’ve been in contact with. Difficult not to be when they’re all over but as your very own?

OK Cyberlife! What is up with making him look like real life Prince Charming?  I mean look at this perfection. Is this required? Are they allowed to do this to poor unsuspecting humans?

Watching his brows furrow and LED flutter amber somehow pumps the beats of heart faster. Surely it’s a dead giveaway. It’s not every day you’re cursing Cyberlife for practically throwing a chiseled Greek god at you.

Oh, shit, really? Greek God? What the hell is wrong with you? What isn’t wrong with you?

You sigh, clicking tongue at yourself. Frustration doesn’t begin with this!

“Your stress levels are high,” Connor offers a reading of initial scan. “Would you like me to remedy the problem? I have several possible functions that may reduce anxiety. My model comes with every physical attribute you are familiar with in human anatomy.”

A hitch stoppers breathing. Just enough as eyes widen a little at his declaration. Human anatomy as in…? Oh. OH.

Your eyes shift down. Fixating right on his crotch sends a luscious shiver through body. Goosebumps prickle skin, hair standing up on them. First time in forever you’ve had this type of reaction. Not even your ex managed to make you quiver like this. Not that your mind is even there because that’s been over for so long. Frankly that cheating asshole can have his baby momma all to himself. Probably already banged a couple more unsuspecting fools; you clear throat, scratchier than before.

“Connor, that-that’s really nice!” Agreeing with him that he has nice features you laugh nervously. It’s the first day he’s been here and already he’s mentioning his, uh, included *assets* and it’s not his beautiful eyes either. Ah, shit. Why is he made to be a young, attractive male? “But I don’t think that’s necessary. Not right now.”

It only takes a moment before you hear what came out of your mouth. Right now meaning it’ll be fine later?

“Which isn’t to say I’ll need it later!” Damage control is literally a creator of chaos. Can he just not look so sweet giving these heady ideas? “Just come with me. You’ll need a place to stay. I mean, you are staying here but I mean…” Shit! He’s made this impossible without stammering all over the place. Who gives him the right?

The android’s lips drop open, inevitably looking to provide another set of options but he snaps his mouth shut. Blinking in assessment of his actions to “argue” with your dismissal, Connor pushes away several warnings popping into visual. They are unexpected and not part of his programming.

Instead of speaking he follows your lead, gaze soft and quizzical. Trailing as a newly trained puppy the latest model of Cyberlife’s domestic line becomes further entranced with chirping outside window. No longer able to abide by strict attention he tilts his head at passing pane. Sounds of birds in song flitter and perch on external sill; one ruffles its feathers cleaning with its beak. The other stands still.

He freezes. Both in movement and system analysis he is however conscious of two live creatures. Opposite of android pets universally made available for public sale. His database offers much information outfitting him with the fundamental needs of intelligence and sophistication in his programmed function.

Reaching to open a door you stop when his presence behind you feels empty. It was obvious when he followed but now?

“Connor?”

Cycling indicator fluctuates upon the command of your voice. He snaps around in direction of soft tone. Softer than accustomed since his distribution from Cyberlife shipping to physical store location was riddled with aggressive bystanders. He-he is not meant to mull over his awakening. It does not make him feel anything. No, he is an android. He feels nothing. He is a machine.

Clinical cold manifests deeply behind blocks, barricades in protocols. Connor pushes this strange tickle back underneath wires.

“Apologies for not obeying you, Y/N. It will not happen again. I am efficient.” Nagging at him, strange and uncorrelated to system status, he almost sounds…tense. Connor straightens shoulders, folding hands neatly against lower back. “I was made to be the best of my particular type of domestic models. As an AX800, I am programmed to be a superior prototype.”

Obeying you?

That happens to be the only words you focus on. His choice of them ripple uncomfortably, nearly squeamish in stomach. Is this how you sound? Are you affecting a command or-? No, it’s what he is made to know. That’s the thing. All androids are only made to serve and immediately regret comes back. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought him.

Bought! God, you’re just like those people now. Aren’t you?

No more excuses. No more seeing horrible mistreatment and vowing never to be like them. Even if you never would do any harm losing your father, when you never spoke anymore anyway, still you fear loneliness. Estrangement ruins lives. It really does. What do you have left now? Except for yourself to fend in this world and growing more complicated as the future rambles on.

Detroit is a bustling mix of dilapidated districts, high tech innovations, Cyberlife Tower most significant in those builds. This house is small. Tucked away in a tiny neighborhood away from inner city but you never complain. You are grateful. A roof over the head is the best gift in a mostly gift devoid world.

“Connor, please don’t call it obeying. I-I only wanted to see if you were OK.” Admitting the hesitation beforehand you feel antsy. His LED is blue again but it was amber finding him staring at window.

“My system is fully operational,” he assures, forcing his lips to form a smile.

In actuality his little gesture is a stiff grimace. Eyebrows rise at his attempt. Even if it looks goofy, which is completely not his fault, it’s very – cute.

Again with this! Never mind just focus for once. Pretty comical coming from someone who hardly meditates in the day to day; you step backwards, slipping through threshold, eyes remaining on him. It takes ever ounce of willpower to remain collected. Things are still hard to digest. No matter if it’s been a couple months tangling with all of that legal stuff. Auntie not by blood sure didn’t make it any better. Yet, here you are. Still you stand even while stress is overworking at a job that might as well kill you first.

Offices are pretty dull to work in. At least they would be if they were not a regular cushy job. Piles of paperwork, demands creep up to swallow whole, a boss who just will not stop making things harsher. Mister perfectionist belittles the lower tier all the time. No surprise but it seems the future isn’t as bright as people thought it would. No need to wear shades.

Moving toward window, pulling curtains open a bit to allow sunshine transitions atmosphere from dreary to somewhat cheery. Perfect mask to hide the real truth isn’t it? Sometimes you forget how good you are that. A small smile camouflages best.

You rub hands against the thighs of your jeans. A little sweaty because of nerves but today is big. Being alone always hardly prepares for constant company. Well, he’s meant to be here permanently. That is the initial idea.

“This can be your room.”

Connor’s brow furrows. Studying your movements upon entry, analyzing vitals and their continual fluctuations, the android is confused. His indicator cycles to process the statement as unexpectedly inclusive as it is. “I do not require a room. I am an android.”

Somehow that reaction is to be expected. You sigh, “Just because you’re an android doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have something of your own.”

Ownership is not given to his kind. They are machines. Concepts of acquiring personal effects do not make sense nor are necessary. Connor voices this as per factual protocol. “Thank you for the offer but I am a machine. Machines have no need for accommodations.”

Yes, of course he’s a machine but…

Machine, manufactured and sold without an ounce of actual soul according to android haters you see. Picketing with their signs, so angry about them taking jobs but who made them? They did. Humans decided to and no one complained. Why complain about a technological marvel that can mow your grass, do the dishes and babysit children while living carelessly. That is the difference. Between you and plenty of others there has always been a divide in what you feel. This just crashes down those so-called fantasies. Ones filtering into brain as tiny wisps and at first it was a nice distraction. Finding him so…

“Oh,” a whisper, dawning realization. He is – a machine.

Coming back to the door, grabbing onto handle, you decide to forget the suggestion.

Something sharp stabs at his internal processors. Listening to such a dull syllable slipping almost – upset? Humans’ need for validity and comfort seem to be all too natural. They are highly emotional. The android steps close, head cocked, fingers pressing against surface of door preventing your need to shut it.

Contemplating left him at a cross roads in his programming. He is meant to function specifically and does not need or want anything as you believe. However, he-he could not refuse. It would be impolite. “I- very well, Y/N. I did not meant to be unpleasant. My social parameters are not meant to alarm.”

Alarm? That is not why you… Your breath hitches. Realizing how close he is standing, invading personal space and if it were anyone else? Allowing him is both a conscious need for closeness while still mourning and an illusion. Live up to that woman’s ideas. The title of ‘aunt’ is undeserving.

“Thank you, Connor.”

“You are welcome,” he snaps back to his programming. “What sort of tasks do you have scheduled for me to complete?”

“Scheduled? I, uh…” Shaking a head at his question is clarity. Honestly you are not used to giving tasks to people. Tasks are dropped on your desk until you down. A huff of breath, accompanied with snort is more for yourself. It does garner the most adorable expression on his face. “Maybe you could just…talk to me? For now?”

Connor’s eyebrows scrunch together. His facial expressions capture attention driving the tempo of your heart. He does not understand why. “Are we not speaking already?”

You laugh not at him but his innocent little response there is – Oh. No. 

It only deepens sadness in you now. Knowing where he came from and his confusion in you wanting a little companionship. Androids aren’t supposed to make friends are they? Even if they’re specifically programmed or upgraded to be partners. He mentioned that before.

Luckily a vibration against your thigh saves you. Reaching to pull phone from pocket your eyes train up to his and take a needful exhale. “Sorry, Connor, I have to take this.”

Connor moves aside out of your path. Remaining stationary, hands folded neatly, he awaits further instruction. However, the android’s eyes shift sideways at the sound of your voice outside room. Amber floods his temple.

“Why are you calling me now? No, I’m not wallowing! It’s called mourning. Maybe if you figured out what it was when my uncle died all those years ago you wouldn’t need a dictionary for it.” Hissing fire into phone attacks your aunt by marriage equally. Soon as you pick up! She just had to get in another word. 

Why does she feel the need for this? What’s the point anymore? “No. What do you want exactly? Is this about the trust fund again? I’m using a part to pay bills. What do you think I’m doing?”

Living expenses are still the same old problem. Must be nice for the rich their multi-billion dollar corporations feeding on tech. Just look at Cyberlife.

“It doesn’t matter,” you make it abundantly clear. Does she believe she’s that intimidating? Newsflash to miss upper crust but this labeled black sheep doesn’t take shit from people! “We might’ve had a rocky relationship but I loved him.”

Loved? Connor freezes in corridor. Disobeying processes to offer potential aid in obvious distress he finds himself…curious at such words.

“We were family. What do you think? Don’t you have enough blood money to spend on your Eden Club bots old woman?” Ending it on your terms this time does not fulfill you at all. Always the winner isn’t she? Rubbing it in your face about his death and if your father were here he wouldn’t let it happen. Whatever distances, issues it wouldn’t change that.

“Y/N?”

Connor’s quizzical tone jolts your weary bones. Inhaling sharply, not at all used to this tiny home being occupied by more than one but a heavy swallow fixes your voice. How long was he there? Did he hear all of that? Oh, great.

“I’m fine.” An automatic response always on autopilot gets the job done for you.

He narrows eyes. “Stress is not a healthy component in the balance of human’s…”

“Just leave me alone, Connor!” You snap, tears pricking corners of your eyes before twirling around to run upstairs.

 ^Software Instability

 Connor freezes momentarily. Flooding, filtering in a ripple through code blocks, he blinks in quick succession. Blinding and strange it is not part of his program –

Unable to run diagnostics, tears sparkling in your eyes draw his attention, overtaking protocol. The android’s soft gaze shifts from following your quick disappearance to ceiling indicating footsteps that conclude in a bang. Seemingly you have sealed yourself away. Scarlet pulsates in intervals mingling with amber processing solutions. Leaving you alone is an instruction. He-he cannot ignore. It is what he is programmed for. You are crying. Why must he obey? He must…

 >Obey

>Leave Alone

“Is there anything else you would like?” He asks as sun dips in later hours. Accomplish several menial tasks which he is free to do as he constructs. 

Following your distress several hours ago he feels – confliction. Few commands escape your lips and at times he is unsure with his current scheduling. Abilities are not in question but you appear distant. Did he do something wrong? By wanting to comfort…

 >Analyzing: Y/L/N, Y/N

Stress: 31.6%

Blood Pressure: 124/80

 Studying your face after initializing a vital scan enables Connor to store analysis records. Sleep deprivation, iron deficiency and higher stress than the human body should experience.

“Connor.” You straighten from your position curled upon couch. Mostly you tuck into one side, resting into upholstery and your breathing exhales shaky. Trying to rest off a headache isn’t working. “No. I’m fine. Thank you.”

The android nods but pauses in thought. A fluid habit now out into the world. Yet, he has yet to see much. Only transferring from lab to warehouse storage and ultimately on display in a merchandise kiosk for Cyberlife; he is not widely available as of yet. Detroit is the originator of androids. The product mark on his white uniform christens his manufacturing origins: Made in Detroit.

“There are other functions I was built with,” he explains enthusiastically. “If you would like a domestic partner, it is one of my features.”

Rubbing at your temples ceases the moment he speaks. A domestic partner? Is he talking about that thing again? You draw breath. Unable to look at him now, feeling it twist in stomach, you uncurl, pressing feet on floor. 

“No!” Quickly you cover the rise in heartbeat.

It is so obvious. Wouldn’t be the first time stumbling across sexual depravity in humans. Look no further than the Eden Club. The fact they decided to make that a thing for a household model is honestly not a shock.

God, why do they live in this world? Why do you even have him here? Isn’t this just making you as horrible as everyone else? 

“No,” you repeat softer. “I’d never force you to do something like that.”

It is not forcing when he is programmed, installed with such features. They are high end. As several techs discussed ignoring his presence as though he were – merchandise. Androids are sold. He knows this but has never had a moment to process.

There is zero need. Androids do not think freely. They are constructs built for specific purposes and his are fundamentally clear. He has never performed these functions as he is brand new but Connor feels he can ease stress efficiently. 

Thinking solely as a machine built for a task did not hold true. He felt…strange at your refusal. “Am I not aesthetically pleasing?” Cocking his head, knitting brows together, Connor looks expectantly to you for validation.

Lifting eyes up to him your lips fall open at his question. Did he really ask that? Are androids supposed o ask those kinds of questions? It almost as though he was hurt by that. No, it’s just imagination. Today has been too tiring. Never would have gone so wrong if that woman didn’t call. Honestly answering was your mistake. Story of a sad little life but others have it worse. 

Humans will always be crawling through turmoil, unable to breathe depending on their situations. Maybe that’s why a little part of you wishes he was human. At least acts without programs but this is why he’s here. To fulfill a fantasy, cater to every whim? 

No. To rectify personal aches to pretend that someone is here to offer a shoulder. When there has been nothing going through your father’s death, legal dealings with assets and pressure in job.

“No,” squeezing eyes shut to battle tension, your voice is low. “I mean, yes of course you’re aesthetically pleasing. I mean…you’re handsome. Practically the most…”

What? Beautiful boy you have ever seen? There comes that illusion. They do that on purpose but somehow looking at him you don’t see a machine. How funny is that?

“That isn’t why, Connor.”

Getting up from couch, taking deep breaths and stepping clear of coffee table helps focus. Rubbing palms against face at least wipes away some mess. Eyes are puffy, red from an unnecessary outburst earlier. At certain points life reaches boiling and yelling at him to leave you alone twists in guilt. This is exactly the sort of things Auntie Bitch thrives on.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to him. Even if it would make no difference it does to you. “This isn’t what I’m used to. Having someone else here.” 

Well, after deadbeat ex anyway but he was a typical freeloader. Thankfully you scrubbed his dirt out of life and home. 

“I’ve never done this before. Having an android I mean. Ordering you to do something that you have no control over is not the type of person I am.” Plus, it’s not as if the androids at those sex clubs have a say. “I’d never do that to you or any of your people. Like some humans would.”

People. A human way to look at him or other androids but that is incorrect. Why would you refer-?

 ^Software Instability

 Connor blinks. The error message was in his vision only briefly and the little blue arrow increasing shudders through his system. He opens his mouth but does not respond. Instead, his eyes fall to your back turning away, pacing in additional stress.

Immediately, the android steps over, placing a hand against your arm. “Y/N, I apologize. Please, do not be upset. Your blood pressure is slightly elevated. You should rest. Perhaps I can produce a remedy befitting in alleviating your headache.”

Touch spreads goose bumps beneath shirt sleeve. Forcing arms to cross over your chest you twist to face him directly an extra tiny thud winds up heart. A key cranks in melody of jewelry box, dancer spins a ballet recital; vintage little tokens, delicate but thunderous in sentimentality. Just a brief glance, pressure of long fingers and it’s the first time you realize how pretty they are. 

Long, beautiful digits on large hands made not born. Yet he is still heavenly.

Sharply a breath slips. Words soothing, touch comforting all those things you crave. Yet this is part of protocols for him. That’s all.

Deeply you sigh. Feeling an unmistakable need burning lower pit of stomach detaches you. A shiver runs a gamut through body and spikes straight to the core of your existence. You squeeze legs tighter together cursing the fact your body decides to get horny over a headache solution. 

Fuck that! It’s his voice. Husky velvet, raspy natural glory and you are so wet. It takes everything not to jump his bones right now. Or mechanical bones? Hmm. Close enough!

“I just need to get extra sleep, Connor.” Dismissing his ideas there are too many running through your mind. Staring down at his crotch again remembering what he said but no. Get it out right now. No matter how much you need to –

You need to go upstairs. Yes, that’ll work.

“Y/N, are you positive? Your levels are fluctuating severely in my scans.”

“Oh? Are they?” Can he also smell arousal? Please, please tell me he can’t.

Connor, however, is not as naive as you believe him to be. Built with specifics in domestic partnership it is easy for him to know when the human body is aroused. Due to your state of duress and current levels of stress he does not wish to explain. It may not be beneficial. It may hurt you.

The android turns eyes down slowly, battling with these thoughts. He is not meant to debate. He is meant to proceed with internal core analysis. Percentages drive him. Yet, he struggles. Is this an error?

“Connor?”

His head snaps up. Connor’s LED flashes in a crescendo to your soft expression.  Hiding the obvious need you have. All humans must expel anxiety in some way. Perhaps he is aesthetically pleasing as you said but –

“I will return to my duties if that is sufficient.” He forces another one of his smiles.

Again the grimace is heartwarming. Albeit in need of practice but-but maybe you can teach him? If there is any good to come out of falling into the same realm as everybody else, then treating him fairly is a start. As if you would treat him bad. No. Why should it matter? Human, android or alien from outer space; you laugh now.

Stupid! So stupid but it’s calming down this literal burning.

Light, airy and symphonic this sound seeps into audio processors. A residual aura prickles sensors, blinding differently than unprecedented software errors. Are they malfunctions? Something soft, sweet cannot be. He has not experienced this before but his attention is solely on you. As brief as the laugh escapes, curling lips in a gentle rise at corners, Connor absorbs the natural human tinkle of chimes that expel so abundantly.

It is the first laugh, genuine laugh he has heard. And it is – beautiful.

The android is so distracted upon this new discovery he does not notice you slipping away. Androids do not possess a need for personal orbits. Their space is not granted freely as they are not free in will like humans. They are meant to serve. Obeying their masters is why they exist.

Yet, Connor can almost feel lack of metaphorical warmth. As you dissipate from his radius so does that laugh that digs into wires. Threading in circuits, causing another minor glitch of instability, forced away from vision in order to watch you; this is a tiny strain, a little piece implanting itself in him.

This is the piece that truly begins everything…

“Y/N,” he calls to interrupt your exit. Without prompt or instruction he once again acts beyond his programming.

Something new, urgent stops everything. You glance over shoulder. Steeling breath at his temple flashing you swear a blip of crimson glows in amber. Just a fraction of a second but you have no idea. Not yet, not then but you will.

“Yes, Connor?” Your breath is quiet, thoughtful meeting his uncertain gaze.

“I-” Connor stumbles. A perfect machine sputters. “Who was on the phone?”

Twisting your body the full way now, nails tap against wall for something to do. A way to hide that hollow pit forming again but no one can hide from analysis. Connor will already know. “That-that was my aunt. My aunt by marriage. She’s- Let’s say she isn’t a very nice person.”

Keeping rest of it bottled up is no solution but telling him will only upset you again. He doesn’t need to know. At least not yet but is this a conversation to share? With an android? Who else will listen? Who else even cares to ask?

Connor did. Is his social program that good?

Honestly, you think nothing of it. For a time it merely seems to be part of what he was built for.

Thinking back at times to this day, first meeting, you will find that so stupid. Naïve isn’t really part of you but he is more. Connor is so much more. It becomes apparent…

August 15th

 Practically slamming front door shakes the entrance with your current state of anxieties. Stress cannot be worse. Spoke too soon during midday. Damn it.

Clearing throat, wiping tears off your face, your breath is staggered. Unable to calm down from such ‘good’ news following that sudden meeting with your boss and everything ripples. Stomach twists badly. Nervous energy or just another month of-

Pressing face into hands poorly stifles sobs. Getting half way through home you just stop. Everything halts as things just don’t want to change. Now this of all things from work it’s going to hurt you in the long run. Your boss did this on purpose. Cutting hours and piling extra to sift through on that fucking computer.

How many sales diagrams, how many logs must you make now? There’s a specific quota. Each person who works database needs to meet their allotment. He threw a ton at you. In order to give leeway to another girl who just started there. Yeah, another potential conquest for the old pervert you’re sure!

What do you get in return? Hours cut and less pay but more weight. A ton sits on your shoulders. Isn’t it enough he humiliated you? Purposely shout out and criticize while leaving his office and you held your head up. Only in the sanctuary of home does it finally snap this flood.

Dropping keys moving uneasily into living room, sinking heavily on couch, you just want to curl up. Maybe it will make things feel better?

Lazily you peer up at television screen. Realizing it is switched on produces a tiny smile. Did he-?

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

Your head lifts up further. Narrowing on Connor stepping into view, he straightens, cocking his head in that adorable way that keeps invading your sleep. Even awake it’s a problematic daydream. He is just on the mind too frequently.

“Connor,” a quiet breath escapes, stilted, weary.

The android reads stress automatically. Forcing tiny fissures in his emotionless facade, splintering through system, he moves swift. However he freezes. Unaware of this strange urgency pulling up tendrils of glittering circuitry, waves undulating beneath shell, eclipses protocols. He must serve. He must obey. Yet he feels something else overshadowing programming. 

System stress battles this ever growing need to break. Crumbling at the seams the more he feels your presence. It is a permanent fixture. As he has become one in your space but Connor is only meant to serve. Why does he feel drawn beyond these stitches of code?

Androids do not question. They cannot experience existential crisis because there is nothing real. They are simple constructs. He – no, there is no personification heralded to androids. They are not alive. Therefore they are not allotted appropriate pronouns.

Connor has heard only one word countless times regarding his kind: It

“Y/N, you have been crying,” he observes through fluctuations.

Pushing them aside, attempting to stabilize, diagnose these errors, the android taps into social function. Sympathizing is not a genuine growth. It is merely part of his program. That is what Connor wishes to believe. He believes in nothing. Nonetheless it does not explain what is easy to machine. Calculations, data processing should offer quantifiable solutions. It is negative.

There is more emotion in his eyes than he knows. You see it. Honestly it surprises enough to cripple a proper response. Easily you brush it off any other time. This time there’s no hiding what he’s already seen. Can imagine what he sees through his eyes. How do androids really perceive the world? Quit thinking for once! All of it is illusion. Remember that.

Cyberlife’s one true goal makes millions, grows powerful in branding of highly sought after merchandise. Still it makes you sick but here you are. Do the same thing because you have Connor. No matter how different it is.

“I’m fine,” a lie tells a thousand truths.

Connor’s brows knit together, mouth twitching, flutter of LED amber. A sign of outward commiseration fights his shackles. He knows you are lying. Despite the fact he should listen and not broach the subject further, the android does not resist this new deviation.

“Why are you lying, Y/N?”

Your breath catches. Stuck in throat along with words it’s a surprise. Even more surprising is the glimmer of irritation on his face. The way his mouth goes lopsided like that is – cute. Wait a minute you’re supposed to be mad. You are! Mad at your goddamn boss for one!

“Lying?” you scoff back at him. “I’m not lying. I said I was fine. And I don’t appreciate you accusing me either, Connor!” Can androids even argue about things so mundane? Isn’t this what you wanted? A real conversation instead of a string of pleasantries, affirmations to duties he accomplishes.

“I am sorry but you are lying!”

Connor’s voice raises an octave higher than typical. Naturally husky, oh, how it deepens. Raw and very alive his tone completely solders you to the spot. Your eyes lift up to his face studying the gleam of his eyes. How strange that spark is. Almost a live wire crackles beneath the surface. A steamy cocoa bright before immediately dimming again; a breath sucks into your lungs cleansing the start of your body. Scarlet shimmers and that’s all the answer you crave.

He appears to swallow. Forcing his Adam’s apple to bob, which is a very realistic detail. Just as the rest of him is so real that sometimes you forget. Sometimes or all of the time, yes, most days his reality masks so well in the mind.

“I-I am…” Connor looks away. Unable to comprehend his reaction it is not part of his – “Forgive me.”

The way his voice lowers tugs at your heart. No. No, that’s not what should happen at all. You’ve seen enough of his kind out there. In the city of Detroit treated so fucked up. Most of them wouldn’t know what to do because they can’t. This is the first time he’s ever snapped from whatever social programming is built in him. He sounded too much like a person. A person with emotions reacting in a very obvious way and the idea Connor’s a person lingers.

You shift forward. Sucking in breath, following his gaze now landing on television, it’s the first time it hits. A ton of bricks, tumbling concrete could never do more damage. Everything about his apology stands still at the developing breaking news story.

ITM is broadcasting live somewhere. Is that outside an apartment rise?

Right now you ignore it. “Connor.”

The softness of your voice draws him back to you. Already he is far too used to it. Joining you upon couch, cocking head, his hand hovers atop yours. Fear of connecting with reality versus construction. He does not touch. He should not be pulled towards these fissures. Emotional surges strike ablaze as a fibrous match lighting his internal mechanisms. Wires push up, tendrils yanking one way towards control’s puppeteer. There it dangles him in strings made of electrical coil. Ensnaring his wrists, snaking around throat, digging thorny and jagged to his brain this is his prison.

Another piece cradles those signs of sensation, innervating beyond a great wall. A red wall gridlocks and crashes against him. It is a giant wave. Scarlet tides engulf and knock the android back where he belongs. Each time he wades closer to you the more it washes him out to that empty sea. He cannot stop. He still pushes. Something inside of him, he does not understand.

“You do not feel well, Y/N. I know this.” Apologizing again, he does not focus on his inner struggle. There should be nothing. He is supposed to be feeling nothing. Is he malfunctioning?

“It’s OK,” appeasing the strobe of scarlet cascading down his face worries. “Please don’t. I don’t want you to be stressed.”

“But I disobeyed. I lost control of…”

“That’s only human, Con.” Slipping on your tongue in an easy breath it’s the first time. Oh this will hardly be the last. Nothing will ever be last with him. If only fantasy can be reality most days. Maybe if you somehow knew here at this point in time. Everything happens for a reason.

He frowns. “I am not human.”

Sadly it’s true. Still you smile. Still you ease him because for once you realize. This isn’t supposed to be easy for him. He shouldn’t even react this way.

Both of you sit in silence. Deafening quiet just the two of you and how strange, wonderful this sensation crawls through the interstices of your being. Almost as if there is someone who cares. Does he? No. That can never mean he is not a needed presence. He is so much more. Soon you will know.

What you least expect is the pressure of his fingers sinking against your stomach. A jolt of electricity, naturally igniting a voltage inside of you and a soft sigh escapes the burden of a dry throat. Glancing down you realize – his hand is growing hotter.

“Connor, what are you-?”

“I detect an increase in prostaglandins.” His prognosis is casual, visibly reading as his LED flutters. “It will do well if you have a heat source to combat any discomfort or cramping.”

A shiver prickles down the curve of your spine. Simple touch or perhaps smooth husky words fill this awkward silence now with comfort. Sure it might be a technical way to point out this specific pain in the ass but it does take your mind off things. So easily you could remove his hand. A good idea to put up a barricade and distance yourself but you cannot do that.

Every thread of stress snaps. In one tiny moment anxieties melt off and ease into his aura. Androids are not supposed to have one. This conscious radiance but Connor’s orbit is safety, assurance. Even if he has no idea what sort of progress it means. A simple relationship of humane and machine, ownership and merchandise is how this world wishes. It is not your wish. There is more. Witnessing it now, gazing up at his face, concentrated crease of brow, optical unit bleeds a palette of amber and scarlet. Dusted in freckles his skin is a smooth canvas to admire. He is so real. Up this close it is so obvious even to your inferior eyesight. Compared to his advanced optical it is. His eyes are warm. Such life shines in them. Mocha sweet, soft and glitters in his careful evaluation. Technical and part of programming but still it sends you somewhere else.

“If confirmed this would be the first case of an android taking human lives.”

Your attention shifts. Drawn to the ITMtv news broadcast it was nearly forgotten. You sit up, unconsciously curling fingers around Connor’s wrist.

The action snaps his gaze down. Momentarily he freezes, stationary, until the soft gasp spills from your lips. Connor tilts his head. In line with television screen narrowing sharply on events unfolding leaves him struggling with process of information. An android is taking human lives? How is this possible? They are programmed to obey not to cause harm.

We are not alive. We are meant to serve not kill!

Connor tugs his hand back. Distancing himself, staring at news broadcast unsettles down to his core processors. A domestic model has taken a child hostage. An inferior model? No, he-he is the same. Upgrades, prototypes mean nothing. They are all part of a linear code. What they are made to be is what they must be. There is no deviation!

Artificial saliva swallows hard, bobbing in his throat. An increase of stress twists him to those original thoughts. Inconclusive on why he is feeling. The events live on air aren’t helping this strain.

“Connor. Connor, what’s wrong?!”

Your hand clutches at his shoulder. Unbeknownst to the android his face twitches with each strobe of optical unit. The shift between colors quickens. His eyes land on you. Concern for him is a shimmer of hope. A hope doesn’t exist for androids.

“I am performing a self diagnostic,” he lies.

Pulling away from him when he jolts up from couch deepens this sickness further. Everything flips in the stomach. Just hearing what they’re reporting. An android murdered a human. He has a little girl. What are they going to do? Is this really happening though? There have been rumors. For several months there’s been talk of androids running away. Going off and doing God knows what but that’s people who hate them. They’re the ones who talk about how evil they are. They shouldn’t exist. Made in our image and unnatural monsters; the erratic behavior in Connor abates this thinking.

There is no time to debate. You already know the opinion that matters. It’s your own.

“You’re lying,” echoing it back stops him. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

“There is nothing.” Connor insists. Remaining turned puts his back to you. The android tries to fight his conflicts. All of it is bubbling, boiling upon his plastic surface. Itching, tingles beneath synthetic skin. You are part of it somehow. He knows. That is why he is malfunctioning.

Nothing? No. There is something! Proving it, grabbing at his arm, twists him to face you. There is no powerful in your pull. He whirls at the action out of choice.

A staggering breath barely reaches past your lips. Large hands engulf wrists, pulling your hands up. Entrapped in Connor’s grasp, fingers long and pliant in their fuse to yours swallowing up in such a strong, yet gentle touch. He doesn’t hurt you. That’s not at all what he took hold to do. Still the continuing broadcast emanates a horrifying soundtrack. Androids killing but he-he’s not like other androids. He wouldn’t do anything he should not do. Part of you wants to believe that.

How he looks now is the only answer to an impossible question. He is agitated, nervous? Not horrifying as people say they are. He looks lost. Lost and searching inwardly. This is the first time he ever appeared that way.

“Connor, please. Don’t shut me out. Just because of what I am.”

“You are my owner,” he lowers his voice. “I am a machine made to obey. I am not your equal, Y/N.” Studying traces of worry in your face opens a hole in his chest. Circuitry, mechanical proponents powering his structure bleed in this instability.

He knows. In the crinkle between your eyebrows, droop of the corners of your soft mouth he sees. For him, a thing without purpose, genuine distress shines in the warmth of your eyes. Human, innocent compared to those he has witnessed abuse in the street. You will never deserve harm.

“I’m not an owner. I-I’m…” What are you? A friend? A lover? None of those things! You bought him. What he says is the horrible truth. “It’s OK to be you. I don’t care. If you have a problem it’s not like that thing on the news. I know it triggered something. But that’s not…”

“I am not triggered by anything, Y/N.” Connor releases you slowly. Allowing wrists to drop from his fingers the loss of warmth registers profoundly. He did not realize he could feel so authentically. There is something wholly beautiful about how your skin blends with his. It fascinates him. You are beginning to fascinate him.

Connor breaks away. Narrowing heatedly upon news, he can only watch one of his own threaten to murder a human child. The android can only stand by as it unfolds. Unable to snap, break through and understand. What made him attack? What turned him on his owners?

He can’t calculate a reasonable response. Neither can he fall into these errors, system malfunctions whispered of since he arrived to your home. This thing they call deviancy.

November 1st

 Several months follow the first introduction; follow that news broadcast that begins a shift in the city. Still it seems longer. An infinite amount of space separates since then and now. Only in a comforting presence that you know is still simply part of his programming. Of course that’s all it is, he made it clear during the hostage event televised for all of Detroit to witness. Did it ever stop the truth in you? No because it would all be lies if you never admitted how…attached you’ve grown to him. 

Attachment to an android probably isn’t the smartest thing. How can you see him as just an android anymore? He’s more. There is so much more. Even his small barely there smiles, a hint of stiffness apparent in the corners of his mouth, make your heart flutter. Just a tiny drop of emotion dips in an endless sea of code.

No. You can’t think of it because the second you fall into this fairy tale something regretful will take place. It will swamp around heart, holding upon his smooth cool fingers. 

Cradling in his synthetic grasp without him understanding that slowly, profusely, so internally chaotic inside your soul, have already began this descent. However there is more to being in a daze. You certainly haven’t taken him up on his special upgrade programming to be the perfect domestic partner. 

Imagine others forced into things they can’t control? It sickens you at times. Reading about android sex clubs, knowing explicitly they have no option to refuse. That’s not to say you haven’t stared the tugging threads of temptation in its face. Imagining what Connor looks like underneath his uniform, pristine white, shades of blue stitch, android glitters in luminescent fabric; his deliciously toned forearms visible donning a short sleeved variant get your mind racing.

Large hands, long fingers, veins, muscles eye catching in their realism all built into his synthetic design. It doesn’t even cross your mind anymore. That his layer of beauty is artificial because what you’d give to trace fingertips against his lovely epidermis.

Kissing him all over, following the obvious toned planes of the android’s chest. Feeling him against your fragile human exterior; to say you haven’t fantasized, haven’t fought with internal desire is bigger than an understated battle. 

Just look no further than that incident first day he was here. Getting off on his voice, comfort spilling in a song; you hate the fact it happened. Only reveals how desperate you were in that time for any ounce of solace. 

He offered then as it is part of what is meant to be. But you can never hurt him. As much as others will say you are delusional for believing he has feelings. Emotions are part of human existence, after all, not part of creations built for sole purposes of serving.

Current state of the city might have something to do with it but today is like any other. At least it begins as such. Even in the now listing along day by day thankful for once in your life for a father who never lived up to his title. Until he dies of course then all is forgiven.

Small miracles don’t exist in the grand scheme of life. Sometimes wishing they did amplifies doubts.      

“Connor.”

Whispering in a lazy flip amid covers, groggy and unaware of his name sighing affectionately bundles you from penetrating sunlight. Blankets do little to hide from the morning. Squinting half lidded towards those streaks of light creating illuminated patterns. Spreading across snowy carpet and reaching up to edge of floral stitch coverlet draped mattress, you toss an arm over to cover eyes. Squeezing them beneath wakes you up better. This time it’s obvious.

Sitting up quickly and digging fingers into blankets sheds confusion. The state between unconscious dreaming to conscious awareness is a complete mess. Did you just have a dream about him again? Rubbing hands against your face doesn’t wipe tiredness away. It neither helps get your mind straight.

A complete mess in the mornings is a daily routine. All of your life what else is new?

Absorbing sunshine might be good for the pores. He will tell you that soaking in morning sunlight is a healthy way to get vitamin D. In his perfectly technical but also impeccably cute tone; you smile fixating on his changing mannerisms. 

Does he know how human he’s been acting with those facial expressions, eyes lighting up in rich cocoa? 

Could be imagination running wild trying to make something out of what can’t be possible. Nice to daydream a little even if representing unnecessary emotions piling up inside. Staring across bedroom lit with natural rays seeping through blinds leaves a warmer atmosphere. 

You enjoy it for a distraction. Quiet can be poetically sound as pressing face into pillow and letting loose a scream. Frustration doesn’t surround the home. It surrounds your job.

God another shift to cover and this time you’re damn sure this co-worker is pulling it out of –

“Good morning, Y/N.”

A gasp slips in a slither upon breath, pressing tongue against the back of teeth enamel in a stare down with your open door. He enters so stealthily sometimes you forget.

“Connor,” greeting him wearily, yawning and stretching arms, your neck is stiff. 

Rubbing at the back of it doesn’t distract you too much. What is he-? Oh. Explains the hot smell of food but this is a little unexpected. You never tell him to bring breakfast anywhere.

The android places an oak tray atop your lap. His eyes trail over exposed skin from a top haphazardly thrown over your body last night. After all of this time sharing space with you he has noted a penchant for wearing oversize shirts, pajamas to bed. There is still a glimpse of lace peeking out as the fabric slouches down.

“Are you hungry? I hope you are.”

He hopes? You smile, especially seeing him returning it. A slight indentation, just the tiniest of dimples in that sculpted face. Still not completely natural but enough to make caterpillars transform to butterflies in your stomach.  Much improvement you think!

“Of course I am but…” You jab a nail atop wood beside plate for emphasis. “Is there something I should know, Connor? You’re awful sneaky today. More so than usual.”

^Software Instability

Connor breathes in a fresh batch of warnings. Unnecessarily inhaling expands chest and it is the natural scent of you. Olfactory filters clog, storing away to memory each thread of you. He tilts his head softly, dip of hair flopping across his forehead.

“It is the anniversary of your purchase of me,” he answers quietly. “I thought you would enjoy having breakfast in bed.”

Everything flutters. You swallow. The careful attention he put into this is outstanding. Not because he whipped up food or was told. He did this by himself. He-he chose to surprise you?

A smile graces lips before biting the bottom one a little bit. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you. And the last couple of months Connor’s really been broadening his horizons. He is so much different. Well, he’s the same with the whole analytics but – this android is less stiff. Softer but he always was a soft boy in your eyes.

“Oh, Connor,” a sweet breath skims along his name. Sadly you recall what you think of this. Most romantic, nicest thing and it’s breakfast in bed. Generic to others maybe but it’s the thought. He thought of you even if it might just be social parameters.

You pick up a folded napkin and curl fingers into it. Shit.

“Y/N.” Connor reaches down. 

Using the tip of his finger swipes a droplet corner of eye. Those eyes always look at him as if he is more. How strange to admit he feels different meeting your sparkle; Connor sits. Without a word, his hand wraps around yours nestling beside tray. 

His fingers squeeze as his system flutters, overheats in the most pleasant of ways. A way he believes he is beginning to crave.

Androids do not crave. They do not want. They do not need. Yet every little brush of your warm skin to his synthetic fills crackles against his blocks.

Your breath is easy feeling him. Little gestures here and there grow exponentially. Sometimes you wonder if he’s happy doing this. Then androids aren’t supposed to be happy, sad or anything. That’s what they continue to say.

Reports on androids going “rogue” or deviant makes you question things. It’s not new. You always have a habit of questioning but this is different. Ever since that older model was broadcast live. The one with the little girl; you slip hand from Connor’s.

“It means everything,” you admit to him. “Having you here. But – do you want to be somewhere else?”

Connor’s temple floods in thought. Straining, pushing away rising stress it spikes marginally at the question. He does not understand. Do you believe he wants to be from you? The news of his people has not left his process. You allow him to watch news or whatever he likes as if he readily possesses preferences. 

The android has found particular interests. He enjoys watching you read physical books. He has grown fond of touching them in his hands, analyzing an entire book in one second. However, he desires to hear your voice read aloud.

He witnesses protesters on local news. Those humans are cruel but you-you are the conceptual manifestation of an angel. Research and data compilation helps him understand better. Watching you is best to determine the differences, to realize not all humans are the same.

His creators, those who constructed him at Cyberlife may find him having his own ideals faulty. Malfunctioning, burdening in failure; is he obsolete? Does this software instability make him defective? As that android upon the high rise dangling over edge and threatening to maim a child? He will never harm you. It is not only against code, it is against what he feels.

Connor will keep you safe. It is not part of initial programming as he is not a military grade android but he cannot remove it from personal parameters. The more you smile, interact with him as if he is equal. He will never –

“I will never leave you, Y/N.” A determined oath he speaks without fear of showing what is happening inside him. “Not as those other androids. I promise.”

“Do you like dogs, Connor?”

Nudging at his arm playfully sends you to a nice state of mind. Nice change following all of the stress at work. Forever ongoing but at least it’s clear where your boss stands. He made the last few months a living hell. All because of some new intern the creep tried to get with. 

Dropping you down in a demotion also meant less money in your paycheck. Guess it helps your father did leave you that nest egg. Something that helps as long as it can last but you like to think you’re good with finances.

Instead of worrying about it you indulge this moment. Out in chilly first November’s day, crisp but warming in how close. Fingers brush down against his hand.

Connor tilts his head from shop window. A pet shop he has already been past occasional running errands in town. He always finds himself stopping to look inside. “Dogs are known as man’s best friend. I suppose I understand why humans prefer them. They are loyal.”

“Well cats aren’t so bad. Easier to take care of.”

The android shifts away from window. Even as his eyes freeze upon a cage of canaries. Android birds are sold up front. Again the display of machines as goods to buy and sell charges his instabilities. “If you think so, Y/N.”

You smile, laughing a little at the lopsided mess his collar’s now in. It is windy today. Reaching up to smooth fingers against it, you can’t help admiring him in the long wool coat. Dark suits his chocolate eyes. Still you’d love to see him wear regular clothes. His uniform is under there. Even so he just wanted to come out in typical wardrobe. You insisted otherwise. Even if it hardly meant anything but it just feels right.

“Call it preference.” Prodding a finger against his chest, catching a flicker of his eyes momentarily, you look away. “Well, it depends on the person I mean. What kind of pet they’re willing to take care of. That sort of thing. Cats are independent little balls of fluff. Dogs need a proper place to run, be free and…”

“I like dogs.” Connor interrupts, cocking his head.

A smile tugs up your lips. This time making eye contact with him again, trying not to think of the intimacy his gesture this morning blossomed in heart. Such an innocent statement, however, shivers sentiment not cold.

“Did you just decide that after some careful review?” Teasing, fingers slide down his arm unconscious but natural. Seems as though the world is no longer the one you know. The one that wouldn’t like what they see. All you see is him. So what’s it matter?

“I am the most advanced of my make.” The android teases back. “It’s only natural for me to know everything.”

Oh, is it? Wow he’s being awfully smug right about now. “Really? Connor, I’m surprised at you. Are you trying to say you’re smarter than everybody?”

He shakes his head. “No. No, I only meant I-”

“Just teasing,” an equal rib escapes, chiding him incessantly. “I thought you’d recognize that – mister advancement.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. Almost falling into your smile but still he cannot properly elicit what he feels. Only ignores to remain what you need him to be. A machine designed to accomplish a task.

“Hey sweets!” Yelling across street, waving a sign, a grizzled construction worker spits in your direction. Interrupting the scene between an obvious human and plastic pet; he jeers loudly. Gaining attention from others they carry similar propaganda with them. A group of protesters form, stopping their trek.

Immediately you shift back from him. Realizing how close, affectionate you were being and – shit! Anti-android? Fuck that’s great.

Deciding to ignore it, not before scoffing in disgust! Never imagined running into these people because nothing ever transpired with Connor. Not a thing! Lately you have been forgetting. Maybe that’s the problem.

“Hey. I said hey!”

Huffing at the man you snap around to acknowledge his nastiness. So he crosses a busy street to come at you? Don’t they have anything better to do? As much as you’d like to ignore this jackass it’s best to tell him verbally to back off!

“Why’s your droid bundled up like that?” he jabs a finger threateningly. “Those things don’t feel anything.”

Thing? Oh, OK! Should’ve figured some old out of the loop jackass was one of these bastards. Didn’t even need a sign to show his ignorance!

“And how do you know?!” Snapping frustration, anger boiling, and your body grows hot in anger. “Why don’t you just mind your business? Come on, Connor.”

“Y/N.” The android snags onto your hand.

“What do we have here?” Another one of the anti-android group cuts in; her eyes slink up and down you before scoffing disgusted. “Are you out with your robo boy? What? Humans not up to your standards for fucking?”

Everything stops. Right then and there it is a swath of fire. Burning deep down to the core and nothing is preventing the eruption. Lava scalds insides, veins a blaze, eyes locking with hers, prying a hand away from Connor. You didn’t even realize he motioned. An attempt to remove you from their path but fleeing is not happening!

A matching scoff releases sharp. Your lip curls at her ignorance! Just as everybody who follows this line of thinking. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Care to repeat that? After all, I don’t understand bitch speak.”

 “Smart ass huh?” The woman shoves at you. “Typical android fuuu… Hey!” She stumbles away from you wide eyed.

Connor is already shielding, arm pushing you back behind him. Sidling into the path of protesters they have conglomerated this side of street. His eyes narrow. Brow creases harsh his expression unreadable yet his indicator reveal his heated struggle of raw emotions.

“Did you see that?!” She shouts purposely. Getting as much attention as possible it doesn’t stop there. “It came at me!”

Your glare dissolves, latching onto his arm. “Connor, please. Don’t.” Already realizing what could happen it’s a desperate attempt to continue walking. If anything is true something like this will only get him hurt. People will say that’s impossible they don’t feel anything but to hell with them! “Let’s go.”

Pulling him towards street halts the moment you are seized from behind. One of the men in the group drags you back, yanking rough.

“Get the hell off me!”

“Your fucking android came at her!” Throwing you aside, he rears up over to block you getting up so easy. “We’ll teach your fucking plastic pet!”

A painful huff, hard drop accelerates Connor’s stress levels. Watching this human manhandle, hurt you twists at his synthetic heart. His face twitches. Thirium pump chugs erratically in a fuel of anger. An urge to break through and protect overwhelms, even as he is shoved back by the one who started this.

The middle age construction worker; he grabs onto the front of the android’s coat, rough, spitting directly up into the taller plastic fucker’s face.

“Fucking piece of plastic! Think you can take our fucking jobs. Walk around the street like you’re human. Worthless pieces of shit like you fuck up the whole works! Poison other humans against their own kind. Like your owner there. Make sure that bitch doesn’t get up!”

Connor’s eyes shift down at you, stopped once again after pushing up to your feet. The man twists at your arm and it is…too much!

“Connor!”

  ^72%

Level of Stress

>Do not defend

>Obey Code Programming

>Do n defend

>Do defend

>defend

  A flood of scarlet eclipses protocols pushing him beyond programming locks. Even as they strain to tighten shackles on system, preventing a clear break, the android still moves in defense.

Connor’s arm thrusts upwards, locking fingers onto wrist of the protesting assailant. Stilling the human’s movement, he squeezes, and wrenches the man’s limb sideways. The fierce strength exuding from the AX800 ripples in flashing indicator going wild in a strobe of multiple hues.

He feels a strange pull tugging insides. Again pulling at his wiring allows an over stimulation of emotional surge to spread in him. There is only one blaring sign to follow:

 >Protect Y/N

 “Get the fuck off me!” Changing his tune quickly, trying to get the plastic off him, he tries to wrench out of the painful grab. “You crazy android! This thing’s going nuts!”

“Connor!” Pushing through several onlookers now who had to stick their nose into this, you find your way past the rest of these android protestors. Shoving directly through, wiggling your way out of that asshole’s grip, your steps are quick. Knocking that bitch that started this out of the way you manage to grab up onto Connor’s shoulder.

Breathing is fast, side hurting from where it struck asphalt. It’ll be sore tomorrow but only he matters. “Connor, let him go. It’s over. They won’t do a thing!”

Screaming at them to get your point across, hoping someone just-just anyone puts a stop to this. What good are the police around here? They don’t care. Of course not they’ll just let a group like these hateful fuckers brutalize someone like Connor. Someone that’s right. Fuck what they say!

The second he releases that man you hook an arm through his. Directing him away, glaring back as commotion does alert a wandering policeman, you pick up your pace. No longer needing anybody else’s help because Connor… He did something unexpected. Just as those other androids. Deviants. That’s not him. He’s not deviant. If he was –

Catching breath across the street you uncurl fingers from the front of his coat. Chilly air creates a frigid burn against stinging eyes. It takes every ounce of courage to prevent it spilling. Nothing stops knowing what people are really like.

His eyelids blink rapidly. Not even looking at you but his LED scares you to death. Stress levels are a thing. You know that.

“Connor, please.” Reaching up to cup his face forces his eyes down onto yours. Tears brim in a crystal sparkle. Threatening to slide down but you suck everything up. Just as you’ve always done in life but this time –

“It’s OK,” soothing hasty, breathless instills a deep ache. This is the first time he’s lost control. Then it’s not his fault. Those fucking protestors! They were minding their own business. Until they decide to gang up on you. This is your fault. If you weren’t so obvious, being so close to Connor out in public, none of this would have happened.

“Y/N, I –” Connor’s voice stutters. Strangely he cannot form a proper response. He feels as if his system is overheating. He feels. A tiny prickle underneath synthetic epidermis crawls, stress rises; Connor clutches to you, fingers digging into hips. He leans into this affection. 

Why do you offer him this? When he is not alive, he is not real. He could be your partner. It is part of his design. You did not want him that way. He recalls your words about not forcing him against his will.

There is no will. When he is a machine!

The android gazes longingly through leaking eyes. Glistening brown becomes another change in what he is supposed to be. Tears have broken in a trail down his cheeks. Androids are not meant to cry. He thought as much.

Tears threaten you too. Looking up into his face so conflicted, hurt because he’s not what they say. He’s alive. Of course he is. Only your sweet Connor would be. 

“Connor, please don’t.” Begging him again this time holds your heart on a jagged precipice. One wrong move and it will crash. “Your stress levels. Please, don’t…”

He leans his head down. Close, pressing forehead to yours, his eyelids flutter closed. “I am sorry,” Connor whispers, orbiting the warmth that pours from your body. This warmth he does not deserve.

His voice is husky heaven. Golden gates open with each syllable and you crave to hear your name. Again and again you crave his closeness. “Never apologize for what others do. They don’t know. None of them know what I know. You are more than them. You’re my Connor. With a heart of gold.”

“Androids do not have hearts as you do, Y/N.”

You smile sadly. “I know,” a whisper but next a beautiful revelation. “But this.” Fingers slide up against his chest. “It might not be the same but it thrums in a lovely song.”

 ^Software Instability

Steam rises in a soothing aroma from the mug cradled between your hands. A fresh brew of cocoa relieves mental ache. Physical? Everything is sore, tender where you fell. Changing clothes after getting back home alleviated discomfort. 

Soaking in a bath for an hour did loosen some tension. Rest of it just fails miserably. As much as you fail in public for all to see what you feel.

Still you blame yourself. Getting close to him acting as if you were out for an anniversary? How stupid can this be?

Of course he brought you that surprise breakfast. He told you why. Does that mean it was a real anniversary? What can be real about buying someone? Nothing is. It just reminds you about every sad truth. Those protesters made it clear.

Pursing lips to smoothly blow away steam, frothy top rich as you sip in a seat on couch. Toasty liquid fills insides with a burning comfort. This is the only solitude needed. Enough time to think it still edges nerves. 

Waiting for a word with Connor, he hasn’t been acknowledging much. Since what happened and who can blame him?

Part of you is still frightened. For him you just cannot help feeling afraid. What if he leaves the house for an errand and-and he’s jumped? What if he’s attacked?

There is no guessing. Possibilities are high. They will happen. They are happening. Each day it grows worse ever since that android who murdered that man. Pretending not to see makes you complicit. You don’t want to pretend. You will face reality no matter how dangerous it is becoming in Detroit.

“Y/N.”

Your head lifts. Peering over towards his husky drawl of your name straightens your perch. Leaning over deposits mug on coffee table and you wait. He appears as conflicted as before. 

Please, let him be OK. Just don’t let this ruin what you have found. 

All you care about is him. Yes, it’s true now. All these months and there are nothing greater than personal truths.

Connor hesitates. Ruminating over his actions offers him zero outcomes explaining his loss of control. There is only one solution. He is malfunctioning.

Something in his handsome face twists your stomach. It stabs deeper closer he gets. Joining you now is all the fear wound up in you showing its colors. They are similar to his LED. A constant swirl is unable to land on one draw.

“I will understand if you would like to send me back for reset.”

Reset? That word just guts you. Reset. No! 

“Connor,” a sob almost overtakes your response. The very idea of him taken somewhere and operated on ripples overtakes in a squirmy skin crawl. It’s barbaric. Resetting an android’s memories is horrifying. You hear about it all the time. They are completely wiped of their –

The android’s lips part, cocking his head while listening to shaky breath falling in sad soliloquy. He does not understand. No, he-he does.

“Y/N, I… Please,” he urges comfort stretching fingers out to soft skin. They do not touch. Simply artificial hovers above humanity but something tugs center of his chest. Something deep and satisfying as his synthetic heart thrums quicker in tempo. 

Connor pushes through this grid without fully snapping chains. Already he feels a flow spreading through system. Each day he looks upon your face happier since he came. As you told him once that it makes you feel better, safer to have someone. He is not someone. He is an android. 

How can you possess such feelings? How-how can he gaze over such softness, such beauty without wishing to remain? 

The thought of being taken - scares him. 

His LED flickers, red once more but not in anger. Fear is strange. Partially for his being but the possibilities of never seeing you again are tearing his programming shackles apart. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Reassuring him now is better than showing anymore of what has been lying inside. “No one will take you from me, Connor.”

Silence is best.

Sitting among a safe haven, your home offers that place now not just for you but him. Here no one can hurt this. No one can treat him inferior. Never will you treat him any different. You know it’s a fool’s game. Especially in this modern world of technology strives, transitions and creates intelligent life in humanity’s image. He is more than a sculpture, perfected work made for duties.

Today, Connor acted as any man would for the person they…. No. It can never be that. Neither does it stop how you felt. How he could tamper with his program just to be there for you.

None of this should have happened. You repeat it over and over again in your mind. None of this because of a fantasy; your eyes fall to his hand. Fingers touch yours now. It is soft, gentle and only a moment.

Connor pulls away too soon. Just a minute he allows himself to fall. Your reaction to his suggestion, no solution, cripples his code blocks. Almost he shattered them. They are close to crumbling. He must fight this deviancy. Only to stay with you because the android already knows what will happen to him. It’s happening to all of his people. Those who are succumbing to errors are hunted. They are murdered. 

No they are destroyed, deactivated. His kind is not alive.

If that is true... Why does he feel threads of humanity? Why does he feel alive with you?

Meeting his gaze deepens this sensation of fear. Today, waking up to a sunny morning seems so far away. It was just earlier. Horrible things happen and change perspectives. Tiny moments of peace and that’s what he brought. Into your life following circumstances you never expected to gain something worthwhile. He won’t even believe that. He thinks he should be reset. That will never happen.

“Connor, I want you to know something. And I want you to believe me. Not think of who you are.”

“I am – no one, Y/N.” The android dismisses for your sake. If he becomes deviant they will take him from you.

All you do is shake your head, cupping his face. In your hands he softens. Those sharp edges, cheekbones thumbs now caress. Soft skin in a freckle stardust that makes hearts flutter. Better than butterfly wings, better than anything you can use to describe how it unmakes your soul.

“It would break my heart,” a shaky whisper strangles. “If you are reset.”

An instant flood of scarlet reflects his inner feelings. You see it. He never has to admit. But he does feel. That’s what makes this harder. Knowing how afraid he must be not to show it. There has to be something happening inside of him. There are too many examples now.

“Con, I want you to…”

Dropping hands from his face makes it easy to turn in direction of doorbell. Who is that? Slowly you rise to feet, sliding fingers down atop his shoulder. “I’ll get it.” Striding away out of room quickly prevents him ignoring your request. Another sign but that’s for another day. As if it will be any easier.

Unlocking the door leads to a horrible drop in your stomach. Eyes connect with the woman standing there now, out of the blue, someone least expected and at the worst time imaginable.

“Hello, Y/N,” the older, staunch woman smiles, already assessing you like a microscopic Petri dish sample. “It’s been quite a long time hasn’t it?”

A long time is putting it mildly. Last time was on the phone and her trying to sink her claws into your father’s nest egg. The one he left you.

The conversation left on a sour note. There is nothing sourer than a rotten apple and your aunt is the literal evil queen hoarding an entire bundle.

Tag List: @tropfenlady​  @your-taxidermy @catastrophes-light  @rk900sexual  @tommy-10-k  @dreamyby @randomfandomgirl1996 @etherealcel @justashamwithwastedpotiental // tagging a few extra who I know would want a heads up <3

[smarmykemetic]

I originally wrote this post months ago, before quarantine had begun, and back when the idea of a mass popular uprising in the U.S. against the police seemed like a distant pipe dream. It was just a philosophical debate back then, but as the months have gone by and I’ve procrastinated finishing and posting this due to a series of chaotic circumstances caused directly by the pandemic (and by my community’s political leaders choosing to ignore it in favor of protecting profit and “law and order” in the streets), I’ve come to realize I’m remiss in my responsibilities if I continue to sit on this post.

Alternatively titled: A Response to ‘Horian Peace‘

I used to be friends with the author of the above post, until I had to cut him off when I realized I could no longer continue to make exceptions to my integrity because I enjoy the person’s company and advice. I don’t want to start shit with him, or bring him any negative attention for this post, but I am taking the risk -effectively further estranging someone who I genuinely believe doesn’t deserve to be #cancelled, because the views he eloquently expressed in this post are very, very common in both the kemetic and larger pagan community. I believe that it is one of the biggest obstacles we face as a community, that it’s at least partially responsible for the widespread racism in white pagan spaces, and I believe that it is a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” kind of ideology -one that too many genuinely kind and intelligent people subscribe to, because it’s so benign and seems so helpful at first glance. I would be remiss in my responsibilities both as a follower of Set and as a political activist in general (for all you losers and haters out there: yes, I also attend protests and do political volunteer work in my real life, with my physical body; no, I will not send you evidence to prove it, thereby risking my safety or political goals for internet clout) if I didn’t address the threat this mindset presents to us, and if I’m going to choose any person or any post to represent this mindset, I’d rather it be someone who deserves the clicks, generally speaking. I’m formatting this post as a response to his post, but it’s really directed at any kemetics who share his opinions in general. I have seen only a handful of kemetics siding with “law and order” with regards to the protests and riots demanding justice for George Floyd (and all other Black Americans whose lives are forfeit according to this great holy nation we call America), and I’m hoping this post will prevent me from seeing very many more.

[haloud]

any other rose

ao3

With Dad in a coma and Flint nowhere to be found, Alex takes a leave of absence from Roswell to check on the other ducks in this particular row. He goes alone, though Kyle offers to come with him, puffing his chest up like that jock he used to be, only this time it’s to protect Alex from theoretical threat, and it’s frankly fucking adorable. He doesn’t even tell Michael he’s leaving until he sends him a text at a rest area a hundred miles away to tell him he’ll be back within two days.

This is something Alex has to do for himself. He needs information, something more tangible than what he can read off his computer screen, before he declares open war. His family may be hateful to the core, maybe, maybe, but a lot can change in relatively little time, and Alex just—can’t keep walking blind not knowing who his actual enemies are.

As Flint so eloquently put it, Alex has always been the black sheep of the family. His brothers, well, they toed the line much more skillfully, and grew closer together because of it. When Alex sets out to track down his two oldest brothers, he first runs into a wall. The eldest, Harlan? His military records check out up until the very recent present, then he just disappears. Definitely concerning, but maybe he just turned into a doomsday prepper and is living in a bunker made out of nonperishable food somewhere in the Midwest.

Robert, in contrast, doesn’t appear to be hiding his tracks at all. His whole life unspools for Alex in a perfectly neat paper trail—which is funny, because Robert is the one who hasn’t spoken to anyone in the family since 2013, making the possibilities frankly endless. Deep cover? Maybe, but his credit card activity is bland and consistent every statement Alex rifles through. A fight or falling out with Dad, Harlan, or Flint? Well, Flint doesn’t have the backbone to really ‘fall out’ with anyone, and if it was a fight with Dad then the old bastard would have taken it out on the rest of them tenfold. Harlan is a distinct possibility, but what might be so bad that both of them would drop off the grid, with Robert maintaining a convincing facsimile of civilian life?

No, there are two possibilities that Alex deems actually likely.

First: Robert is as neck-deep in conspiracy, murder, and torture as Dad and Flint, and he cut off contact with the family as a minimalization of risk. If one arm of Project Shepherd gets discovered, then a manufactured estrangement offers plausible deniability that the others had no knowledge of it whatsoever.

The second possibility has Alex pacing his floor at three in the morning more nights than he’d like.

(Why? Why? The world went dark around him as he stared at his computer screen with his hand over his mouth, staring at the name of a niece he’s never met. Aubrey Alexandra Manes. Why?)

A phone call would be too much warning, would give Robert time to hide or come up with a story. So Alex just finds his address, gets in the car, and goes searching for answers. What he finds is a simple ranch house six hours out of Roswell, one with a flag hanging from the porch and a slightly overgrown yard full of soccer goals and Barbie jeeps and other childhood detritus.

Maybe Robert knew to expect him somehow; maybe he just wasn’t expecting a car in the driveway at this time of day and therefore came out to inspect it. Either way, Alex doesn’t even make it up the porch stairs before Robert opens the door and brings them face to face for the first time in a long, long time.

“Alex!”

The shock would almost be funny, if Alex wasn’t bracing for either a punch or a bullet.

“Hey, big bro,” he says, curling his mouth in a deliberate smile. “It’s been six years since I got a courtesy Christmas phone call. What’s new in your life?”

Face thunderous, Robert steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him. “Cut the crap. Believe it or not, I’ve been following your career. I know you could find out anything you wanted about me, and hell, I know you probably did. So it’s you that needs to start talking.”

Alex nods pensively. Reevaluates. Strange, to be properly estimated by a family member. It is true, though—Alex never would have gone in blind, and the research he did produce some interesting results.

Six years ago, Robert stopped coming to holidays. He stopped picking up the phone. He made polite, manly excuses whenever their dad pressed him, but he made those excuses every single time. And what did Alex find when he went looking? A birth certificate for a little girl, dated 2013; immunization forms; preschool and elementary registration; another birth certificate dated two years later. Aubrey Alexandra. So yeah, Alex knows, as if the yard cluttered with toys wasn’t enough of a clue. What he doesn’t know is why, so that’s what he’s here to find out.

“What’re their names?” Alex asks casually. He keeps his hands still at his sides, empty and loose. Not a threat. He has no interest in making Robert fear for his family, and if he’s being generous, he knows that Robert has no more reason to believe Alex isn’t working under their father’s orders than Alex has to trust him.

“Hope and Aubrey,” Robert says, the like you don’t already know hovering understood between them. He takes a step forward and shoves his hands in his pockets, shrewd soldier’s eyes scanning Alex just as much as Alex scans him. It’s a little strange, more so than Alex expected, to discover that Robert actually is a stranger now, not frozen at eighteen and stocky and mean-spirited.

Robert doesn’t move forward like he’s making threats. He presumably came outside because he felt either surprised or threatened by an unexpected vehicle in the driveway, but he isn’t even wearing a holster. Not even the suggestion of a weapon on his person. Is he the kind of military father who locks his guns away? Their dad was never that conscientious—presumably because it builds character for a little kid to accidentally shoot himself; either that or he just assumed his boys were too scared to go near anything of his. A fair assessment.

But what is a fair assessment of Robert? Maybe he just thinks girls can’t handle exposure to guns—safer parenting, to be sure, but still indicative of a toxic mindset. After all, Robert would’ve gotten suspended three times for snapping girls’ bra straps if dear old dad hadn’t intervened every single time.

“And are they why you’ve been MIA all this time?” Alex asks, point blank.

“You’re going to have to tell me why you’re here before I give you any information about my children. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Fair.” Alex holds his hands up in surrender, then lowers them as Robert takes another step his way.

“Are you here because of dad.” The question falls flat, like he doesn’t really want the answer. Robert’s face is inscrutable, his tone still thinly pleasant, but something darker lurks beneath the surface.

“In a manner of speaking.” Alex tilts his head and looks his brother up and down. Robert’s put on a little weight since the photos Alex saw from his last deployment; he’s got laugh lines around his eyes. They’re all of them getting older, but Alex—once again wrong-footed, and he’s getting increasingly frustrated with himself—Alex never expected Robert to wear his age so openly. “I’m doing a little reconnaissance. You see,” this time it’s Alex who steps forward, “Last time I saw Flint, it was in a secret torture prison our father has been running for decades, and he had a gun to my head. Harlan appears to have gone off the grid, so one can only guess what’s going on there. Which leaves…you. I thought it was high time we had a little reunion, bro.”

Genuine shock flicks over Robert’s face, and his eyes dart up and down Alex’s body as if looking for injuries. He is a military man, however, so the emotion is quickly replaced with more grim impassivity. “What kind of information are you looking for? Are you in danger right now? God damn it, Alex, my family—”

“Aren’t home at the moment, and I will happily be long gone before they get back. This is about our family, not yours. Hope won’t need to be picked up from school until 2:30, and your wife takes Aubrey to Tiny Tots ballet classes after preschool from one to three every Monday and Thursday. No one knows I’m here; if you’ve really been following my career, you know I know how to cover my tracks. I didn’t come here to make threats, Robert.”

“Then why are you here? You seem to know pretty much everything already.”

Alex feels a pang of…actual guilt at the fear lurking on Robert’s face, in his defensive posture, in the way he clenches his hands compulsively in his pockets. Rattling off his kid’s routines like that…might have been an excessive show of force, and Alex grimaces at himself. Robert is a soldier, sure, but somehow…somehow Alex forgot that not everyone has been unraveling earth-shattering revelations for the past year. He dug into Robert’s life remembering the dick who did shit like flushing his toothbrush down the toilet and dying all his clothes pink because he was ‘basically a girl anyway, right?’, and he did it expecting to find yet another monster with Alex’s same blood pumping through his veins.

He needs to remember: high school. Ten years to the left. Alex nods sharply to himself. He went about this the wrong way—it’s a reunion, not an op. If it goes poorly, he walks out of here with better knowledge of his enemy and the exact same amount of family he walked in here with. Nothing to lose.

“I just needed to see for myself, I guess. The reason why you haven’t even talked to dad in over half a decade. Or me. I don’t know about Harlan and Flint, but I’m guessing they’re getting the same treatment?”

Robert thinks for a minute, then he jerks his chin towards the rocking chairs squeezed into the corner of the narrow porch. “I’m not inviting you inside just yet, but I’ll get us some beers. We can sit out here and talk.”

Alex takes a seat in one of the rocking chairs and rests his hands on his knees. In between the two large chairs are two little ones, painted all kinds of crazy colors, sponge-stamped with bunnies and butterflies and dinosaurs. A pang of—something echoes deep in his chest. Can you be nostalgic for something you’ve never, ever had?

“Okay.”

Robert sticks a beer in Alex’s face. It’s already open; Alex sniffs it, swishes it in his mouth, holds it on the back of his tongue before swallowing. Well, if Robert was keeping undetectable poisons around on the off chance he got to slip it into Alex’s drink, he probably wouldn’t be walking around without a gun. Alex takes a real swig and waits for Robert to start talking.

His brother doesn’t look at him, just stares into the middle distance as he says, “You might remember Alanna, my wife. I think you met her a couple times.”

“Of course. Dad didn’t ‘approve of her family,’” Alex says with a thin, sarcastic smile. The real reason, of course, is that Alanna is black, but Jesse would never be so uncouth as to say something like that outright. No, it’s always dogwhistle central with that man.

Robert snorts and spits in disgust, the largest show of emotion he’s displayed since Alex pulled into the driveway. “Yeah. Fucking hell. You and I both know how deep Dad’s hatred runs. For everyone and everything that doesn’t march to his fucking tune.”

Alex folds his hands in his lap and does a terrible job of keeping the knives out of his voice. “Of course. I just wasn’t sure how you would approach the topic. Of hatred, that is, since I was the only member of the family not invited to the wedding.”

It’s surprisingly difficult to get the words out. How many times is he going to have to go through this? First with Flint, now…Robert may not have pulled a gun on him (yet), but it’s still a piece of Alex’s soul that gets chipped away bringing up this old pain. ‘Don’t you ever get tired of being the black sheep,’ Flint said, and the answer is, frankly, not fucking likely, considering the standards set by the other Manes men past and present. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to be alone, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel the lump in his throat and the pain in his chest when he saw the wedding pictures on Facebook and realized he was deliberately excluded.

Alex clenches his fists on top of his knees and gets pissed at himself for showing even that much of a reaction.

Robert cuts his eyes away, clenching his jaw. Finally, he says, “Fuck. God damn.”

“No, I get it.” Alex forces a laugh. “Couldn’t have the gay gaying up your big day. We’re not here to talk about me. Forget I brought it up.”

Shaking his head sharply, Robert says, “I’m airing old shit, and I’m doing it once, then we’re getting back on topic. I didn’t invite you to the wedding because Dad already invited himself, you had just gotten stationed far away from Roswell, and I didn’t want to put you back in his path. That’s the sum of it. End of story.”

An ugly laugh, a real one this time, busts out of Alex’s chest. God, that’s even more rich than Flint’s bullshit about protection!

“I’m serious,” Robert snaps. “’Lanna opened my eyes to a lot of shit, okay? I won’t pretend I was some kind of amazing fucking ally back then, but I wasn’t afraid of your gaying, got it?”

And Alex wants to fight back. He does. He’s still owed a fucking pound of flesh. But in the back of his mind, he thinks—Aubrey Alexandra. And it gets him back on track. It even lets him see the humor, because, come on, Robert saying gaying like that is pretty fucking funny.

“Okay. Apology accepted,” he says, one last snark because Robert never actually apologized, and the way he looks away again says he knows that. “Tell me more about Alanna.”

“Right. Well. So anyway, she knew what she was marrying. Dad gave her the fucking creeps, but she married me anyway.” He fiddles with the label of his beer and quite obviously tries not to smile. “And we did the happy family thing for a while. I was deployed; the distance was hard. She felt a lot of pressure to be the right kind of military wife, but she had zero support. I was wrapped up in myself. The missions, the medals. I was a shitty husband, a shitty partner.” He drains his beer, then stares at the bottle like its emptiness is a personal betrayal. “Between deployments, she gave me the ultimatum. Couples counseling—completely non-military—or that’s it.”

“You went to a therapist?” Alex blurts. Robert? The guy who would lurk outside the guidance counselor’s office and trip kids if they came out crying? Maybe Alex should have done a deeper dive into whether or not Robert could have had alien contact.

Robert snorts and shakes his head. “I deserve that. God I was an absolute fucking cock as a kid. And as an adult. But Alanna gave me something to fight for, and damn if she didn’t push me to fight for it. I don’t know. I didn’t understand half the crap the shrink said. But I listened. Followed orders. Not so hard.”

“But you still had some contact with dad in that time. You didn’t go radio silent until several years after you and Alanna married.”

“He’s not an easy man to say no to. When his number would come up in my phone…”

Robert’s jaw clenches hard and tight. Alex hopes he has good dental.

“I always picked up. Autopilot. But the shrink helped me realize trying to be like Dad was…well, in real terms, ruining my fucking life.”

Damn. Alex is gonna find this therapist and send an annual fruit basket.

“And then Alanna got pregnant?” he prompts; Robert nods curtly.

“Changed my whole life. Scared me shitless, too, I don’t mind telling you. I was just working out how fucked our whole upbringing was, and now it was my turn? God.”

“So that’s the story? That’s why it’s been six years since you acknowledged any of us?”

Robert looks at him dead-on for the first time since they sat down. He looks like Dad. He really does. The same squarish face, the same thin mouth, the same soldier stoicism. But there’s a softness in the next words he says that Alex never once heard come out of their father’s mouth, and it shakes something in Alex’s very core.

“I got kids of my own now, man. And I work with kids too, or around them. Eighteen, nineteen years old. And I think about how dad treated us. I’m not exposing Hope and Aubrey to that. Not ever.”

“Good reason to avoid Dad, then. But what about the rest of us? Harlan, Flint? Me?”

Shrugging, Robert says, “I talked to Harlan a while longer, since we were closest as kids. But he got weird, man, I don’t know. And Flint…ended up I couldn’t trust him one bit. If I talked to him at all, he’d hand the phone over to Dad, and I didn’t want this shit getting that messy.”

“And me?”

Aubrey Alexandra. A little slice of Alex’s world has been disorienting and surreal ever since he read that name. Aliens are one thing, but having a niece that’s carrying his name—Alex doesn’t know how to live in that world. He has to hear it out of Robert’s own mouth, this brother he didn’t know he had at all.

A huge sigh gusts out of Robert’s chest. He goes back to staring into the middle distance. It’s a long while before he says, “I told you already that I’d started realizing Dad was fucked up.”

He cuts off there like there’s something physical blocking the words, and Alex waits for him to continue.

Finally, he says, “That was a hard thing to come to terms with. I always thought Dad was what made us into men, you know? If times were hard, well, they had to be, to toughen us up. But it turns out Dad was just an abusive fuck. So then what good is any kind of lesson he ever taught us? What good is being any kind of man he’d be proud of, when I’ve got ‘Lanna and two baby girls I could be making proud instead?” He sighs heavily. “So that’s why. I wanted them to be proud of me, and there’s nothing to be proud of in the way I treated you. The way I let you be treated. I thought about calling you up, but I was too damn cowardly to dial the phone, and somewhere along the line I convinced myself it would be better if I just let you live your own life without fucking bullies sandbagging you.”

Alex takes a moment.

In that moment, Robert runs his hand over his close-shaven skull three times. He bounces his leg, stops himself, and bounces again. He brings his beer up to his mouth like he’s forgotten already that it’s empty.

And Alex just…breathes.

Flint carried his orders like absolution so he could sleep at night. With Robert being such an unknown after six years of radio silence, Alex thought he was prepared for all eventualities this reunion might come to, but turns out he wasn’t actually prepared at all. Not for the reality of the two little rocking chairs, allowed to be bright and clumsy. Not for a version of his brother that sees the world with open eyes.

“You going to say anything?” Robert finally says gruffly.

“I saw Aubrey’s birth certificate when I researched you.” Alex swallows and tries to wet his throat with the beer, but it’s gone flat. Ugh. Still, he won’t back down. “Aubrey Alexandra.” Saying the name out loud chokes him up, just a little bit, and he forces it back down like he learned to do a long time ago. “You could have just called me.”

Robert ducks his head to hide his own too-bright eyes, and that sheepish, honest gesture cracks deep in Alex’s chest to feed some very small, very young part of him.

“Yeah,” Robert mumbles. “I know I should’ve—asked you. Or just not. But I was all emotional ‘n shit. It felt right at the time.”

“All right.” Alex shoves his emotion unceremoniously aside. He has the information he came for, so it’s once more time for action. The fact is that no matter how skilled Alex is at covering his tracks, his presence has the possibility of putting Robert’s family in danger. Until Dad is dealt with for good; until Flint and Harlan are neutralized; Alex can’t be a part of his brother’s life, or his wife’s, or the lives of his nieces.

Something else to fight for, then. As if he needed more motivation.

Alex gets swiftly to his feet, and Robert mirrors the motion.

“You’re leaving?” He blurts out, and something like grief, chased by acceptance, runs across his face. God, Alex almost wants to do a double take every time he sees honest emotion in eyes like those. But it’s time he gave credit where credit is due.

“I should,” Alex says. “I promised I wouldn’t put your family in danger before I heard your story, and I intended to keep that promise no matter what you said to me. But now it is imperative that you listen.”

He puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder for what may be the first time in their entire lives. Robert swallows.

Alex says, “Do not change a single thing about your routine. Do not tell anyone I’ve been here. When it’s safe, I will contact you—and at that time, it’s your decision if you want me in your children’s lives or not.”

He can see every single question in Robert’s face. Pride and anger tense him up, but, miracle of miracles, Alex also gets to watch him let them go.

Fruit basket. Seriously. Maybe an Edible Arrangement, for the actual miracle worker.

“How much danger are you in?” Is all Robert demands, voice still gruff with emotion.

“No more than usual. Don’t you know I love to live dangerously?” Alex says breezily, but Robert doesn’t unclench. Great, just what he needs—another person in his life taking his safety seriously when there are things that need to get done. Alex gives a fond roll of his eyes and lets his hand fall off Robert’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says, honestly, as Robert follows him off the porch and to his car.

“Pretty sure you don’t get to thank me for anything ever. I basically owe you for life.”

“Well, then, get started on your debt and give me that ‘you’re welcome’ you owe me just now.”

“You’re welcome.” He hesitates, swallows a couple times. Then he raps the top of Alex’s car and chokes out: “Drive safe, kid.”

Alex drives home in a different world than the one he drove up in. He barely notices the miles fly by, and when he gets home to Roswell, everything still looks the same, no matter how impossible that is.

Still, life goes on. A week later, a letter comes for him at the base. The return address makes him furious—how’s Robert made it this long if he can’t follow a simple order for his own good?—but he can’t hold onto that anger as soon as he sees what’s inside.

The thick envelope contains three sheets of paper and a fridge magnet—just a generic #1 Uncle! design, but it still hits him hard right in the chest. The first page of the letter is covered in small, need script he doesn’t recognize—Alanna’s, most likely. The next page he unfolds is covered in a child’s deliberate print, and he puts that aside too, gently, reverently, so he can read it later and savor every word. The last page is covered in drawings, big and bright; god, he’s gotten more medals than he knows what to do with, but he’s never felt as honored as he does now by the fact that clearly Aubrey busted out a brand-new pack of markers for this. And the magnet—he’s going to put these on his fridge, like that’s something that exists in his life—and now it does, this part of his family he thought was closed off to him forever.

And his world is different now. A little brighter, a little bigger, a little fuller.

Now all he has to do is protect it.

[calzona-ga]

The actress talks with The Hollywood Reporter about Amelia's journey and how her long-awaited family reunion will impact the character going forward.

[This story contains spoilers from Thursday's Grey's Anatomy, "Good Shepherd."]

ABC's Grey's Anatomy opened up Amelia Shepherd's world in Thursday's bottle episode, which featured the long-awaited introduction of the fourth Shepherd sister — played by guest star Amy Acker.

The sibling reunion occurred after Amelia (Caterina Scorsone) and Link (Chris Carmack) flew to New York for a surgery and bumped into Nancy Shepherd (returning guest star Embeth Davidtz), who invited the duo over for dinner. The only catch being that Amelia never informed her family of her divorce from Owen (Kevin McKidd) — or her brain tumor, foster kid Betty or Owen's adopted son Leo, among other details.

The meal turns ugly when Amelia's mother Carolyn (returning guest star Tyne Daly) crashes the dinner and instantly remembers having met the real Owen (Kevin McKidd) when she visited son Derek (former star Patrick Dempsey) years ago in Seattle. The estranged siblings have at Amelia, recalling all the ways in which she screwed up her life and the (many) mistakes she made.

After Link — her current love interest — comes to her defense, Amelia reveals her frustrations that her sisters (and mother) only see her as the screw-up and "Black Sheep Shepherd," her childhood nickname. This is why none of her siblings or mother wanted to come to her wedding to Owen.

In typical Grey's fashion, Amelia and Link's patient — and his brother — provide a lesson for Amelia, who makes a bold surgical choice that ultimately gives a college-bound student a new lease on life. But it comes at a cost as Link pulls away from Amelia, whom he accuses of being reckless and making a risky decision because she needed to prove her family wrong.

The hour closes as Amelia and her mother have a heart to heart in which Amelia realizes that she sabotages her own relationships and doesn't know how to love. What's more, her mother fills in some gaps from Amelia's Private Practice backstory when she reveals that the youngest of the Shepherd siblings is the most like her father — whom loyal Grey's viewers recall was murdered before Derek and Amelia. Carolyn's biggest regret, she says, is not being there for Amelia.

Amelia comes away from the conversation with an understanding that she doesn't need her family's approval — she already has it in sisters-from-other-misters Meredith (Ellen Pompeo) and Maggie (Kelly McCreary) — and that it's up to her to realize she's worthy of love.

Below, star Scorsone talks with The Hollywood Reporter about the Amelia stand-alone episode and romantic future with Link (who apparently can be easily won over with a box of doughnuts from his favorite favorite spot in New York).

Amelia is having quite an emotional journey this season: reconciling with Owen, fostering Betty and Leo and learning of Teddy's pregnancy. Then losing her kids and splitting with Owen. What's been your biggest takeaway about Amelia this season? We've seen Amelia be unbelievably resilient. She must be made of some sort of rubber because she seems to bounce! [Laughs.] One of the really nice things I've been able to play this season is some of the lightness, fun and humor that we got to see on [Grey's spinoff] Private Practice a lot more. She's got this wry life is crazy and is finding the joy amid all of the chaos. That's been really fun to do.

Amelia's mother helps her understand that she sabotages relationships and doesn't think she's worthy of love. What made her come to that realization? There were a few hits a couple episodes ago when Owen and Amelia were at the lawyer's office talking about who would halve custody of Leo. Owen said something like, "You're just not capable of love." It was a knife to Amelia's heart and she was so devastated by it — especially after being so patient, amazing, loving and supportive of Owen and Leo all season long, and trying to be so patient with the Teddy situation. That was quite a quagmire! [Laughs.] That was really hard for her to hear. Then having her sisters confront her over and over again and seeing how she wasn't really connecting with Link even though he was being so charming, accommodating and lovely. Amelia was trying to keep him at bay emotionally. She's had enough clues that maybe there's something in her psyche that she's not been willing to look at.

Amelia's mother, despite all the twisting roads that Amelia has gone down, was courageous and generous to really face and admit to her part in the broken attachment Amelia had as a child. She endured a terrible trauma at age 5 when saw her father murdered in front of her. Then her mom says, "Listen, I'm sorry I wasn't able to be the kind of psychological container that you needed at that age to move through that trauma in a way that would leave your ability to connect intact." She really takes responsibility for her part in Amelia's early relationship with attachment and love. And then also says, "And I believe that you're smart, strong and brave enough that now that you have this last piece of the puzzle that I've given you, that you can put it all together and move forward and have beautiful relationships. That's on you." She hands baton back to Amelia, now with the final piece in place, and says, "I'm giving it back to you; you now understand your childhood. You can do the work and can have love."

This episode really filled in some gaps with Amelia's family and why she's not close with them. How will the dinner from hell and conversation with her mother help fuel what we see next from Amelia? I do feel like there was an incredible healing and closure at two points in this episode. First, in that moment where she was able to tell her sisters that, as opposed to try and earn her sisters' approval, finally, after seeing how relentless they were to her at the dinner table and that they just weren't willing or able to see that Amelia had become a pretty wonderful person in adulthood — she's a neurosurgeon, she gives back to her community, she has relationships, she loves children. She does all these wonderful things and her sisters weren't willing to allow their narrative about her to change. Amelia accepts that finally and stops trying. At the door when she's leaving, she says, "I believe you that you love me but you don't like me and I don't really like you, either." She allows that to be OK for herself. She can love her family but if every time she's near them, they tell a story about her in their own minds that that traps her in an identity that doesn't match up with who she is today, she does have permission to not expose herself to that kind of judgment. She can go create family where she finds love: in Seattle with Meredith, Maggie and the people she has surrounded herself with — her chosen family. That was a huge moment for her. And the healing that was given to her by her mother at the end and the apology and the piece of the story that she was missing. And the reconciliation with her mother. I think it's going to free Amelia's psychological bandwidth up a lot. We'll see how that goes. She is letting go of the old story of Amelia as the black sheep and she was able to leave it in New York. Now we'll see next season what the new story is.

Amelia and Link reconcile on the plane. Amelia now has this liberation and missing piece of the puzzle. What will she do with that awareness now? Will Link or Owen be a part of that? That I don't know. The writers are starting to break story for next year right now. All the irons are in the fire trying to think about where it goes next year. All I know is that they don't know anything yet! I'm trying to stay open. Chris Carmack is very talented and we've had some great comedic scenes that have been really fun to play. And Kevin and I are best friends and love working together. So whatever direction they decide to go in, I'm in a pretty great position as an actor.

If you're writing Amelia's next act and had the choice between Link or Owen, who do you see her with? I can't possibly answer that! There are such good things about both of them. The nice thing is that Grey's is doing so well that I feel like we are going to get to play out whatever we want to play out. And if we love it we go with it. And if it's not working, we can go in another direction. We have time to play all those stories we want to play because our fans are so gorgeous and passionate. Knock on wood, hopefully we get to see all of the stories that we want.

How would you describe the season finale? It's a Grey's Anatomy season finale! Debbie Allen is directing. There's some fun, big stuff happening. It'll be funny and it'll be delightful and there will be catharsis. Classic Grey's.

For a season that was dubbed — and delivered — the "Season of Love," is the finale a fitting end for that? Yeah, I think so. Love in all its forms.

[devilsknotrp]

THE JAILBIRD

Age: Thirty nine Occupation: Owner of Room With a View Motel Personality: Wry, resourceful, observant; insolent, unhelpful, self-serving. Faceclaim: Diego Luna

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR IMPLIED DOMESTIC ABUSE

To say Frankie has seen and done everything would be an understatement. Frankie has been to hell and back, or so it seems, and has a dozen tattoos to tell the tale. A troubled childhood spent under the thumb of an alcoholic, deadbeat father will turn you into a twisted thing, if you let it. For years Frankie succumbed to his fury, and ended up in jail a number of times for his trouble. After Sal went and died on him back in ‘84, Frankie became the reluctant, misplaced owner of the family business. Frankie has mixed feelings about his life. In some ways he yearns for the adrenaline-pumping chaos of the early years, but he also appreciates a steady, if modest, income, and a clean-ish place to rest his head. Frankie surprised himself with how business savvy he is. It’s a stretch to say the motel has been turned around, and he acts like he hates the joint, but deep down he’s kind of proud of what he’s achieved. Back in ‘84, Frankie fell in with a crooked cop called Tony Jones. That guy was bad fucking news, and if Frankie hadn’t opened his eyes in time, he might have ended up in Max Acosta’s place. Frankie has had people pull one over on him before. He just wishes his only friend hadn’t been the one to betray him. Frankie has managed to claw back the Esposito reputation after Sal devotedly burned it to the ground. While he’s no upstanding citizen -- and he still gets tossed out of the bar drunk every now and then -- the community watched him go from nothing to something. He’s still a black sheep, but it’s better than what life was like before.

PERRY ESPOSITO → Younger brother, used to be estranged, trying to rebuild a relationship. TONY JONES → Old friend, jilted, was once attracted to and now hates. SANDY SILVERMAN → Had an affair for most of 1984, sometimes see each other around town, feelings are hard to define. KAITO YAMAOKA → Friend, he often does work around the motel, they smoke dope together. LISA RAMIREZ → Old friend, helped him with parole years ago, they often catch up over beers.

Frankie is TAKEN

[inknindecision]

A new excerpt

A frigid deluge of rain poured from the heavy clouds above, and the cobbled road was already four centimeters below the water. The streets should have been devoid of life in the midst of such a storm, and indeed they almost were, but for the small group wading down Grafton Street.

“This rain is shit,” complained the shortest of the four. Wrapped in an expensive coat and with flowers woven into their damp hair, they looked absolutely miserable.

“Well, it’s not the rain’s fault that you went for fashionable when you should have gone for functional,” retorted the tallest. This one wore a simple woolen cloak and looked far happier—that is to say, far less miserable, for in such rain not many could truly enjoy themselves.

“If you want to look like a sad, soggy sheep, then that’s fine by me. But I actually care how I look,” the shortest shot back.

“Do you care that, right now, you look like Marie Antoinette’s estranged sister got kicked out into the rain,” said the one in the back, who was neither the shortest nor the tallest, and who spoke with so little inflection that they might as well have been a bemused grade schooler trying to read Joyce aloud.

The shortest one huffed, fixing one of the drooping flowers in their hair.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Jane. It’s just we’re trying to have some fun, is all,” spoke the fourth and final member of the group, who was neither the shortest nor the tallest, nor the one in the back. This one looked like they could have been any given member of the working class, save for the fact that their clothes were perfectly dry.

“Whatever you say, Margaret,” said the shortest with a wicked grin, their lips stained black. In fact, if one were to study their face more closely, one would find that this Jane had meandering black markings, like tattoos, worming their way from their lips to their eyes.

“Alright, alright, no more Margaret and there’ll be no more Jane. Good?”

The shortest nodded happily. “Now say it right, you gobshite.”

“Don’t be like that, Sinead,” chuckled the fourth member.

“I’ll do whatever I please, but I appreciate the offer, Mairead.”

“Come on, you dopes, quit flirting and hurry up. We don’t have all day,” said the one in the back, just as toneless and expressionless as before.

“Fuck off, Ais, I’d never flirt with someone like Jane,” Mairead said with a laugh.

“Don’t say it,” Sinead warned.

“Sorry. I would flirt with Jane.”

“You piece of—”

“All of you, can it. We’re here,” said the tallest.

The four of them fell silent as they looked up at the looming facade of Trinity College, shrouded in fog and dripping rainwater. The tallest led them through the front gate, passing a cluster of students who paused their murmured conversation to stare at the odd group as they went by.

With a sigh, the one in the back held up a hand at the students, blinking slowly. The students gave a frightened start and, as one, turned and hurried in the other direction.

“Thanks, Aislinn,” Sinead muttered. Aislinn didn’t respond but for a halfhearted shrug.

The group made their way across Parliament Square and past the bell tower, heading toward the building on their left. After the rest entered, Aislinn held back for a moment, casting an eye across the square to make sure they weren’t being watched. Satisfied, she ducked inside after the other three.

Mairead stared about in wonder at the sheer number of books that lined the shelves, while Sinead set to drying out their hair and rearranging the flowers that adorned it. Aislinn, on the other hand, joined the tallest member of their group in slowly searching through the library for their target.

“What are we looking for, again?” Sinead whispered to Mairead, watching the other two as they strode along purposefully.

“Well, it’s a who, you know, not a what,” Mairead whispered back. Neither of them made an effort to help the other two search.

After a pause, Sinead whispered again, “so who is it?”

Mairead shrugged. “Caoimhe said it was some student. So, like, learning things and all that.”

Just as Sinead was about to tell Mairead that they knew what a student was, Caoimhe waved them over. The two of them jogged over to where Aislinn and Caoimhe stood. In front of them was a young woman, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a textbook open on her lap and hastily-written notes spread out around her. She didn’t notice any of them as they gathered in front of her: not well-dressed Sinead, not Mairead with her slowly wriggling cloak, not still-as-a-statue Aislinn, and most certainly not the two-and-a-half-meter-tall Caoimhe, all looming quietly over the poor girl.

“This one?” Mairead clarified.

Caoimhe shrugged. Then nodded. Then said, “Fits Cecily’s description to a T.”

“Well, did Cecily give you a name?” Sinead asked with the ghost of a grin on their pitch-black lips.

Caoimhe folded his arms, fixing Sinead with a mostly-playful glare. “No, but even if she did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Sinead faked a pout. “Aww, what’s wrong with introducing our client to me?”

“Giza,” Aislinn said suddenly, not looking up from the floor.

Caoimhe nodded, gesturing to Aislinn. “Exactly. Last time you tricked someone into giving you their name, Giza happened, and that was thirty million in property damage.”

“Yes,” Sinead conceded without a hint of remorse, “but the kushari was excellent.”

Aislinn made a face that was the visual equivalent of yeah, okay, you got me there. Aislinn would never say such a thing, of course, and the other would never expect her to, but for the most part she didn’t need to say much. They knew what she meant, even if she didn’t say anything.

Caoimhe snapped his fingers. “Hey. Ireland, not Egypt, boys. Focus.”

“But we’re literally not boys,” Mairead said absently. 

“Not right now, anyway,” Sinead said, glancing as Aislinn, who met their gaze for half a second before looking away again with the slightest of nods.

“That’s not the point, you—” Caoimhe paused for a moment, thinking. “You gowl. We’ve got a job.”

“I think that one, kind of, was stretching. Not really how you use it, I don’t think—”

Caoimhe cut Mairead off with a hard look. He cleared his throat, and looked down at the student, who was still clueless to their presence.

“Hello,” he said. The young woman looked up, startled, and took in the four of them with a healthy amount of fear. “You’ve been chosen.”

And with a snap of his fingers, the world seemed to stutter and lurch like the minute hand of a broken clock. When everything caught up to itself, the library was empty, save for an open textbook on the floor and hastily-written notes spread out around it.

[dearmrsbitch]

March 20, 2017 - Outing.

Dear Prudence, My younger brother and I (he’s 28, I’m 30) were raised in an extremely conservative evangelical household. When he was 18, my brother tearfully confessed to me and my parents that he is gay. I told him I would support him no matter what, but my parents made him listen to lectures about how being gay is a sin, and how he could change if he really tried, and sent him to a “conversion therapy” camp. Since then, he has gone out with a series of young women and is planning on proposing to his current girlfriend. He appears happy on the surface, but to me, he seems broken and deflated, and I see no real joy in his relationships. It breaks my heart to see him so miserable. I’ve always tried to counter my parents’ preaching, but I’m worried it’s too late. She doesn’t know that he’s gay—my brother told me he’s never told her. Since all my pleas have fallen on deaf ears, I am wondering if you can tell me: Should I say something to his girlfriend? I am afraid that if he goes through with this proposal they will both be unhappy. I think telling his girlfriend about his confession might be the only way to save them.

—Saving the Beard

Dear Sib,

It’s my first instinct to not “out” someone who hasn’t outed themselves, but sometimes, there are other people to consider.  

There is no such thing as gay conversion.  I don’t care what people say, but you can shock and lobotomize and distort and manipulate people all you want - you cannot stop someone from being gay anymore than you can change them from straight to gay.

Your parents, and the camp assholes, have brainwashed him.  He’s bought into it because of conditioning and his fear of losing his family.  Those are powerful things.  I mean, in his mind, he’s probably thinking, he can marry this girl, keep his mom and dad around, and have a lover on the side.  Which is what happens a lot of the time.  Then shit goes sideways and the fallout and the pain of the fallout is always worse than just being yourself in the first place could ever be.

Yeah, you heard me right.  The divorce, the custody battles, the late in life fight with mom and dad?  Those will all be worse than if he were to lose them now.  Because if he leaves now, he’s building on his life, not trying to rebuild, which is worse.  What if this loses his custody?  What if his kids are turned against him?  What if one of his kids with this woman turn out to be gay themselves and have to endure isolation from their mother and grandparents?  

These are all things that we have seen, over and over and over again, and these are things that have pushed people out of the closet because the pain is just too much.  

Then there’s this girlfriend.  Does she deserve to be lied to like this?  Does she deserve to be humiliated, cheated on, misled?  Whatever happens?  Even if in her mind, she believes in conversion therapy, then she’s been a victim of that kind of bullshit conditioning too.  I’m not excusing her if she does believe in that, but I can understand that she isn’t making a choice with all the information laid out in front of her, exactly.

With all that said, you should tell her.  Tell her that he came out to you and your parents sent to him conversion therapy camp and that he is not the same person he was - in a bad way.  If nothing else, you hope that she’ll just consider that fact before going forward with him.  

Now understand - this will most likely backfire.  She will run and tell him, and he will likely tell your parents and come screaming at you for ruining his happiness and running off the girl in his life.  They will all likely turn on you, because their beliefs are stupid but if they have to admit that - they have to admit they’re wrong and they can’t do that.  

There’s really no good way to do this.  Because it could go several ways.  She could leave and he could be truly despondent to the point of suicide because now he’s been exposed again.  She could stay and you could find yourself the family black sheep, estranged from them for years.  I mean, let’s be honest, these two dingbats could get together, stay together, then get a divorce, and your brother and family could STILL not acknowledge that you were right in the first place - people are that fucking dumb.

But doing what’s right won’t make you happy.  It is right to warn this girl that her relationship is not real - because it’s not.  I would do it before he proposes because it will be harder after that, and it gives her time to break it off without it being the whole “break off the engagement” thing.

Bear in mind, this is the ONLY case in which I would say that it’s okay to do this.

Now, in a final piece, I know that a lot of people would say - “Tell him to tell her or that you’re gonna tell her.  Let it be his choice.”  

The only problem with this is that he’s not going to do it, and most likely, he’s going to go to her and lie instead.  He’ll go to her and say, “Hey, don’t believe them, I’m totally straight now and they just are being mean.”  He’s invested too much into this fake identity to just throw it away now.  You’ve also tried to plead with him before, to no result, which means you only have one option.

Mrs. Bitch

[gravitascivics]

NEGATIVE RESIDUALS

Malcolm Gladwell,[1] in his book Outliers, describes the effects cultural experiences have on people generations after their initial occurrences.  He points out the effect rice-growing cultures have had on generations, even in America, as to the manner these descendants conduct their affairs.  That is, a people who is known for its discipline, these Asian Americans are noted for their hard work, high grades in school, and tenacity in business.  Another highlighted group is Scots-Irish Americans who descended from sheepherders in the old country.

         This latter group is known for being distrustful, withdrawn, and not open to social arrangements where cooperation and coordination might be called for and even expected.  Herding sheep involves dealing with a commodity that can be easily stolen and those who own or work them can be easy targets.  Gladwell writes,

So [the sheep herder] has to be aggressive; he has to make it clear, through his words and deeds, he is not weak.  He has to be willing to fight in response to even the slightest challenge to his reputation – and that’s what a “culture of honor” means.  It’s a world where a man’s reputation is at the center of his livelihood and self-worth.[2]

After centuries, this type of work has its effects.

This group is pointed out to introduce J. D. Vance’s treatment[3] of his cultural background, that of what in popular parlance is referred to as hillbillies.  They are low-income whites in the Appalachian states.

         Here are some of Vance’s descriptions of his people:

“Americans call them hillbillies, rednecks, or white trash.  I call them neighbors.”[4]

“Their family structures, religion and politics, and social lives all remain unchanged compared to the wholesale abandonment of tradition that’s occurred nearly everywhere else.”[5]

“We do not like outsiders or people who are different from us, whether the difference lies in how they look, how they act, or, most important, how they talk.”[6]

And, “… it is in Greater Appalachia where the fortunes of working-class whites seem dimmest.  From low social mobility to poverty to divorce and drug addiction, my home is a hub of misery … we’re a pessimistic bunch.”[7]

These descriptors, while not ideal in terms of soliciting from them federalist attitudes and values, seem reasonable given the historical backdrop of their cultural foundations.

         But years have elapsed since this group first made its way to American shores.  Surely all these years have softened their inward or anti-social biases.  If pessimism reflects these other leanings, then the news is not good.  Recent surveys have found that this population measures as more pessimistic than other “low-income” groups including black Americans or Latino immigrants.  Yes, as a group, Vance’s “neighbors” do have economic challenges, but not greater than those facing these other groups.  So, what’s up?

         According to Vance,

We’re more socially isolated than ever, and we pass that isolation down to our children.  Our religion has changed – built around churches heavy on emotional rhetoric but light on the kind of social support necessary to enable poor kids to do well.  Many of us have dropped out of the labor force or have chosen not to relocate for better opportunities.  Our men suffer from a peculiar crisis of masculinity in which some of the very traits that our culture inculcates make it difficult to succeed in a changing world.[8]

This posting’s effort to highlight Vance’s group is not to make a case against them.  They just seem to exemplify many common parochial-tribalistic attributes that can be ascribed to other groups.  By looking at Vance’s hillbillies, maybe because of the heightened degree they exhibit, one can come closer to understanding why American politics has devolved into a state of “tribal” conflict.  That conflict, in turn, undermines the nation’s ability to be federated.

         Therefore, Vance provides a useful case study that serious civics teachers should come to respectfully study and attempt to derive insights as to what ails various cultural groups that find it difficult to be integral parts of this vibrant nation.  These groups are human entities that harbor all the potential resources that that reality represents.  

From a merely reciprocal sense, therefore, one should demand finding out how to encourage these people and other estranged groups to be less tribal and more integral to the grand partnership – the citizenry of the US.  Beyond reciprocity, isn’t it natural to feel the supportive sentiments that motivate such study and policies that promote and advance this end?

[Note:  Wishing a Happy New Year to all.]

[1] Malcolm Gladwell, Outliers, (New York, NY:  Little, Brown and Company, 2008).

[2] Ibid., 166-167.

[3] J. D. Vance, Hillbilly Elegy:  A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis (New York, NY:  Harper Collins Publisher, 2016).

[4] Ibid., 2 (Kindle edition).

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid., 2-3 (Kindle edition).

[7] Ibid., 3 (Kindle edition).

[8] Ibid., 4 (Kindle edition).

[theconservativebrief]

Every week, we pick a new episode of the week. It could be good. It could be bad. It will always be interesting. You can read the archives here. The episode of the week for July 15 through 21 is “Austerlitz,” the seventh episode of HBO’s Succession.

Have you opened your heart to the gospel of Succession? Since the show premiered on HBO in June, it’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about. In terms of the network’s programming, it feels like a more dramatic counterpart to Danny McBride and Jody Hill’s brilliant odes to contemporary Americana, Eastbound & Down and Vice Principals, the latter of which my Vox colleague Todd VanDerWerff described as “so dedicated to its own vision that it might make you laugh, and then make you want to throw up about five seconds later.”

All three shows are working with a similar set of tools. The characters are inherently unlikeable to the point that it’s startling to realize you’ve come to care about what happens to them, largely because the line between laughing with and laughing at them becomes so tenuous. They’re painfully funny, with the operative word being “painful.”

It’s just that Succession (created by The Thick of It’s Jesse Armstrong, if you needed any indication of the show’s pedigree) happens to be wrapped up in a more prestige-y looking package, and is working toward its central tragedy from the dramatic end of the scale rather than the comedic.

It’s that sense of cognitive dissonance that has largely allowed for Succession to fly under the radar. The show tells the story of a family-run media conglomerate wrestling with the question of who will take over if or when the patriarch chooses to step down. It looks too serious for how funny it initially is, but that humor is ultimately just as much of a defense mechanism as the brittle fronts put up by its characters, breaking apart and revealing deeper layers as the show tilts into disaster.

The show is a lot more fun than it might look. And it’s much more complex than the thinly veiled Murdoch family analog its advertising might lead you to expect.

As the first season has progressed, the series has grown into one of the most deftly executed dramas currently on TV. The show’s sixth episode, “Which Side Are You On?” ended in heart-pounding fashion with Kendall Roy’s (Jeremy Strong) failed attempt at staging a coup against his tyrannical father Logan (Brian Cox).

The sequence might as well have been a nightmare: Kendall was forced to dial into the meeting instead of attending in person, running through stalled traffic while on his phone (leaving his supporters to wilt under Logan’s gaze) and trying to interpret the stony silences on the other end of the line. The result — Logan remaining in power while Kendall was fired from the family business and left listlessly roaming the streets of New York — was blood-curdling.

That episode’s follow-up, “Austerlitz,” is a little less immediately showy, but it’s a neat microcosm of what Succession is, as well as perhaps the clearest example of how the show expertly strikes a balance between humor and heartbreak. If you’re not a Succession believer just yet, here are three reasons you should be, as explained by the episode.

“I want to have your back, and, uh … there’s also my back.” HBO

Arguably, none of the Roys are people you want to root for — despite being family, they can’t even root for each other. When Logan calls his kids together for family therapy (which turns out to be for positive PR rather than any actual inclination toward healing), one doesn’t show up, and the others can barely stifle their laughter when he says that everything he’s done has been for them.

This dynamic could easily become tiresome to watch, but the personas that Succession’s characters flaunt, whether it’s Kendall’s “business bro” posing or his younger brother Roman’s (Kieran Culkin) unrelenting penis-centric humor, have gradually been peeled back, transforming my desire to see these idiots get their comeuppance into genuine emotional investment. It’s a turn that would fall flat if the cast wasn’t so uniformly great. Their bad behavior, while not justifiable, comes from a place that any viewer should find at least a little familiar.

Granted, some characters are easier to care about than others. Siobhan Roy (Sarah Snook), tellingly nicknamed “Shiv,” is the most appealing (or least odious?) of the bunch, largely because she’s the only Roy child who seems to have secured any significant measure of independence from Logan.

Instead of going into the family business, she’s gone into politics, and when the two begin to overlap, her frustration is tangible. She doesn’t want to be defined by her family’s name, but it’s not her choice to make. And Snook is a master at playing tough to the point that when Logan finally reduces Shiv to tears in “Austerlitz,” it comes as a shock.

To that end, “Austerlitz” serves as a showcase for each character’s human flaws and insecurities, as the pretext of a family sit-down brings every character together under a single roof and holds a magnifying glass to the bonds between them. Even Shiv’s less self-possessed siblings — Kendall, Roman, and Connor (Alan Ruck), the eldest and least effective son — slowly start to feel more like human beings as the show makes clear just how badly Logan has broken all of his children. Watching him try to “win at therapy,” in Shiv’s words, is uniquely frustrating, and when the proceedings fall apart, there’s a sense of loss in the air rather than satisfaction.

Sweet, simple cousin Greg. HBO

Part of Succession’s emotional turn also comes from the way it deploys laughs. Armstrong uses cringe humor in abundance, first inviting us to draw a morbid kind of enjoyment from the antics of the Roy children before slowly pivoting to have us feel guilty for being complicit in their misery. But that’s not to say that the show isn’t also just plain funny.

In “Austerlitz,” for example, when therapy begins to break down, the therapist suggests everyone unwind by getting in the pool. The kids immediately tell him that doing so is out of the question because Logan can’t swim. “He doesn’t even trust water. It’s too wishy-washy.”

Moments like these are regularly punctuated by the way the show is shot, with little zooms in and out on the characters’ faces that are commonly used on shows like The Office or Brooklyn Nine-Nine, but rarely on “prestige dramas.”

Then there’s the way Tom (Matthew Macfadyen), Shiv’s fiancé, follows her around like an overeager puppy, pressing her for details on how therapy is going. His interest is both personal and practical: He works for her father. Though he knows it’s not a good time to try to angle for a better position in the company, he can’t help it — not that that should come as much of a surprise, given that his attempt to cheer Shiv up during the second episode of the series, which saw Logan hospitalized, was to propose to her in the hospital hallway.

Though Tom otherwise takes a back seat in “Austerlitz,” I’d be remiss not to mention that his rapport with cousin Greg (Nicholas Braun) is the most consistently funny part of the show. Their status as the two outsiders to the Roy family — Greg is the black sheep cousin from Logan’s (practically estranged) brother’s side — immediately puts pressure on them in an environment that’s already close to its boiling point.

Unlike the people they orbit, they don’t come from money, making their vying for some kind of status all the more obvious. Greg phones his mom for advice, and Tom can’t stop trying to needle Shiv about how to best impress her family.

Tom loves Shiv, but he loves the power that the Roy name bears, too. As such, though he ought to be able to find common ground with Greg as another (relative) beggar at the feast, Greg also constitutes a threat to his position.

Tom is, to put it mildly, absolutely horrendous to Greg, subjecting him to near-constant verbal abuse (which he plays off as a joke, a tactic Greg is finally getting wise to) and using Greg as a pawn in his attempt to climb the Royco ladder.

It’s a demented relationship, but Macfadyen is so good at playing a sociopath, and Braun is such a delight, that it’s impossible not to laugh while watching as they navigate everything from a corporate “death pit” to eating ortolan, a delicacy that was also notably featured on Billions as a marker of wealth, as it involves consuming a protected species of songbird whole (and which Tom gleefully tells Greg is “kinda illegal”).

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Of course, Succession’s humor has become all the more precious as the series progresses. “Austerlitz” is particularly grim, as Kendall’s journey to family therapy takes him on a detour into a drug den, first. Early on in the season, it was established that Kendall is a recovering drug addict, and that his marriage fell apart as a result of his drug abuse and his commitment to his work — or perhaps more accurately, to his father.

His relapse is crushing, as is the knowledge that it is in equal parts due to just how low he’s been laid by getting fired from the company (and then being sued by his father for his insubordination), and to his father planting stories about a relapse in the tabloids.

When Kendall finally arrives at the New Mexico ranch where his family is gathered, he’s high out of his mind. He’s smiling throughout the ensuing confrontation with his father, but there’s no semblance of happiness in his attitude — there hasn’t been through the entirety of the show thus far.

“I was born lucky,” he says, but he knows the Roy silver spoon is a blessing and a curse. Like Shiv, he’s inextricably tied to his family despite how ill-suited he is for the shark tank it is, and he’s finally realized that the reason (or one of the reasons) that Logan seems to hate all of his children is that they were born with luxuries that he had to earn.

Strong is giving perhaps the most impressive performance on the show — every scene of his brings to mind the devastating finale of The Thick of It, in which spin doctor Malcolm Tucker (Peter Capaldi) finally decides he has nothing left to say — and is most clearly shepherding Succession toward the Greek tragedy it now seems it’s always been.

Tension is brewing between the Roys, and it’s clear that something horrible lies ahead, especially now that they all know they’re capable of stabbing each other in the back. Thanks to his father, Kendall has become a man with nothing to lose, which, for once, actually makes him dangerous. That is, if he’s able to keep from falling prey to his own monsters.

We’ve known from the start that the Roys are horrible people; what makes Succession so impressive is that it has managed to make their turning against each other so difficult to watch. It’s hard to imagine what would constitute a “happy” ending to the season — if one is even in the realm of possibility.

Despite how much we’ve learned about the Roys already, there’s still a lot left to unravel. To wit, in contrast to what the Roy children said about their father earlier in the episode, “Austerlitz” ends with a shot of Logan slowly swimming in the pool as his children depart one by one.

Succession airs Sundays at 10 pm on HBO.

Original Source -> HBO’s Succession has quietly become my favorite show of the summer

via The Conservative Brief