#there's so much just Regular Variation in brains that more or less comes out the same in the end

[snapeaddict]

(June) Snapetober Day 31 - Costume

Listen. This might be 8 months late, but at least it's there. I have nothing else to say for my defence.

When his body exploded in pain again, he held down to the one thing that could keep him sane, or so he thought – patterns. It was interesting, really. Albus would certainly have much to say about this. He would say, pensively, ‘Ah, yes. A great flaw of his. Once proven effective, Tom holds on to strict modes of action, and one failure rules out even the most effective strategy’. He would then add something about mental plasticity, perhaps something about the boy Tom had been, as if to reassure himself that he had always been the adult.

In any case, it was true: the Dark Lord was a man of habit, especially when it came to torture. It would take one some time to realise that, of course. It would take many sessions and a rather thorough interest in dark spells to pinpoint each cycle, each pattern. It would take a little more time, then, to place within these patterns the fits of anger, themselves only but a regular variation. But it was doable.

Severus knew them all by heart. The surprise always lay in the intensity and duration of the torture sessions, not in the spells and methods employed. He secretly prided himself on the knowledge that he would have been a much more imaginative torturer had he wished to be; it was naturally not the kind of thing he liked to admit to himself on a good day, but it certainly made encounters such as this one more bearable.

And so he thought of this as his body convulsed; a broken stream of thought, of course, repeatedly interrupted then pursued after fits of spasms, vomiting, and blackouts. By this point he could also track, more or less, retrospectively, how many had occurred, if left alone for a few hours of respite that was. So he counted: one, two, three crucios; head under water; a broken nail, or finger; one choking spell, fire in his veins, a blinding spell, and invasion of his mind.

It was a good idea. Disorientation was the enemy of even the most skilled occlumens. And sudden sensations of cold, or direct burns on the skin, they all made focus within oneself, rather than outside, terribly hard to maintain: it worked, to an extent. Severus had long lost any sense of his surroundings. He maintained the barriers in his mind intact; he ignored the agony of his body, with growing difficulty. He counted the spells.

And repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Darkness again.

It was fine; it was. He knew it was coming. Natural body reflex; exhaustion. He could never evaluate how much time had passed when he awoke, though. That he should work on.

-

‘Severus – Severus. Dear boy, can you hear me?’

He came to, slowly. He heard himself moan pitifully, he tried to exhale to manage the pain, but his nose was stuffed with dry blood. It must have been a while, he thought confusedly. Since it had dried. And where…?

‘Severus.’

The well-known voice reached his ears, then his brain, and he turned his swollen face in its direction, keeping his eyes shut for just another moment as a wave of relief overcame him.

‘Albus…’

He felt a hand stroke his hair. He relaxed, instinctively.

‘I have called Poppy. Do not try to move just now.’

‘Albus…’ Severus repeated a bit louder, as if to convince himself he was not hallucinating. He opened his eyes: the headmaster, who was kneeling just beside him, gave him a joyless but comforting smile. Silver beard, starry robes and blue eyes shone in the moonlight. Still it was dark… the floor was cold. A sigh of relief escaped him when a warming spell slowly reached his freezing bones.

‘I have been so worried, Severus. I waited for you… 5 days, and still no sign of you - no, don’t tire yourself, you will tell me everything later. If you are here, I know all is well.’

Severus started coughing. Gently, softly, in a fatherly way, Albus helped him in a half-sitting position.

The younger man rested his head against the headmaster’s chest, exhausted by the effort.

‘If you are here, I know all is well… isn’t it?’

Severus closed his eyes again. He tried to focus, he fought off the urge to fall asleep in the warm embrace.

‘Headmaster… yes… my cover… it is intact.’

‘He knows nothing?’

‘He knows… what he must know.’

‘You are relaxing, Severus. It is good.’

His breathing slowed, like that of a sleeping man.

‘You are safe… Poppy is coming. Get comfortable. Sleep…’

How good it felt to let go, to be unbothered by what was happening inside, and outside… To no longer be so cold… He was to have tea with Minerva, at 4 pm. What day was it? She would reschedule, surely… Holidays too, soon… Albus sounded satisfied… Hogwarts... Hogwarts, finally…

He smiled slightly, through the pain and spasms. He felt Albus’ arms tighten their grip around him, and fell into a half-sleep.

‘Severus, dear boy.’

But those arms...

‘Dear, dear boy.’

Too tight…

‘You have become too comfortable… too attached.’

Suffocating.

‘You feel safe in his arms, Severus. Tell me... has the spy traded allegiance for safety?’

His eyes snapped open. They met with blue ones which, at first, he thought he recognised. Then he noticed the reddish hue, the pupils, too yellow, too long, too narrow… the smile, predatory.

The spell that had been warming him, started to burn him.

And he had not seen it coming, no; he had not expected the pain, the perversion, had not placed them within the anticipated cycle of cruelty. He had gotten too comfortable.

He was taken by surprise, and a broken-hearted cry escaped his lips.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Double Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter Cookies

Made a double-batch, enough to give neighbors a dozen each and have a pile left for us, and for kiddo & mom.

I kinda winged it on the recipe, which I think I’ve posted a variation of somewhere this past year or two  Secret is in the right combo of different fats, sugars and the VANILLA EXTRACT, and using the correct amount of baking soda for the end product I wanted, which this time was softly chewy, spread out evenly, with a mouthful of chocolate chips in every bite.

I will have to sit and think now how much of what I put in this batch, but I think I hit the soft-chewy spot I was aimin’ for.

Even my “baker’s son” roommate says they’re addictive. 

So here is how I made ‘em:

Oven @ 375º

In your stand mixer bowl, toss, softened to room temp, the following: 3/4 cup salted butter 3/4 cup worth of a regular Crisco Baking Stick 2 cups brown sugar 2 cups granulated sugar 4 teaspoons Baking Soda 3 teaspoons high-quality organic Vanilla Extract. Don’t scrimp; get the best you can. 1 teaspoon kosher salt

4 eggs

Put your paddle attachment on and let all that get nice and creamed-together.

Now leave the mixer running, and add 4 eggs, 1 at a time, allowing about 20 seconds between.  

Once it has started to look like it has incorporated the eggs, dump in 1 1/2 cups Laura Scudder’s Chunky stir-up peanut butter, into which you’ve stirred an extra half teaspoon or so of kosher salt.  

Once the peanut butter has been incorporated, now it’s simply down to adding (a cup at a time while the mixer runs) just enough flour to make a good, stout dough.  With these proportions, I’d say between 4 and 5 cups, maybe.  It depends on your individual ingredients as to whether or not you’ll need more or less flour.   Don’t use too much!

Now that you’ve got a righteous cookie dough in that mixer, dump in one whole bag of MILK Chocolate Chips, and one whole bag of WHITE chocolate (I know, I know…stfu) Chips.  It’s this combo that delivers this insane signal to your brain’s foodgasm center.

I thought about it, and that’s due to using really good vanilla, and also the “white chocolate” chips helped give an added vanilla-ish twist. If you wanna go dark, go dark…that’s up to you, but the combo of the milk/white hits the right buttons hard.

Now, here comes the hard part:  once you’ve got the chips incorporated (and it will look ridiculous so goddamn many chips), cover it with plastic, seal it from the fridge smells, and LEAVE IT IN THE FRIDGE OVER FUCKING NIGHT.

Yes.  Now, the next day when you’re ready to do a bake-a-thon relay with your two prized half-sheet pans, you’ll be whipping out probably between 6 and 7 dozen of these puppies, a dozen per tray.  One pan out, the other in.  And use This One Cool Trick:  Once you take the baked cookies off the sheet pan, wipe the pan down to get any sugar left on it, and toss it in your freezer for 5 minutes.  Take it out and get your balls made/tossed and crisscrossed.

SO:  Oven at Tree Fiddy.

Form that dough into about 1 to 1 1/2 inch balls, and toss ‘em in a wide, flat, bowl of granulated sugar until they are thoroughly coated with sugar.  Place three wide x four long, a dozen at a time, on your pan, and criss-cross ‘em with a fork, for old time’s sake.

Now, bake for EXACTLY TWELVE MINUTES.  

You will make the next pan up while this one bakes.  

Let the baked cookies sit in the sheet pan for about four minutes, and they should deflate and become their soft and chewy, lumpy selves. Grab your thinnest spatula to get the cookies from sheet pan to the wire cooling racks.  

These should be flattened nicely, and chewy…like the picture!

Y’all enjoy!

ptsd

[grison-in-space]

PRIONS. I agree: they are terrifying and bizarre and extremely cool! I am rather delighted to see this neat little compilation of Additional Prion Facts for perusal!

stop saying "cannibalism causes prion diseases" this is a common misconception

gonna preface this by saying I'm not trying to be weird or edgy here I just have an interest in diseases and find it frustrating to constantly see people spreading misinformation abt how they originate and spread

this misconception comes from an epidemic of kuru, a type of prion disease (you might also seem em referred to as TSEs) that broke out among the Fore people of Papau New Guinea in the 1950s. until colonial rule, the Fore people practiced a form of funerary cannibalism in which a loved one's flesh, including organs, would be consumed after they died. this practice isn't exclusive to the Fore, and has no profound inherent dangers; cooking and eating human flesh doesn't have any more health risks associated with it than eating the flesh of an animal. what started the epidemic wasn't the practice of cannibalism, but rather a stroke of incredibly, incredibly bad luck.

(more under the cut; there's cannibalism and disease talk, but nothing graphic.)

a prion disease is caused by infectious prions in the brain. this is a type of misfolded protein that can cause other proteins to become misfolded as well. the misfolding of these proteins results in a deadly neurodegenerative disease. CJD (creutzfeldt-jakob disease), one type of prion disease, is capable of spontaneously occuring in otherwise healthy individuals with no family history of the disease; this is likely what happened to one unfortunate member of the Fore community. most of the time, only contact with brain and spinal tissue transmit this prion disease, so the women and children who traditionally ate these tissues soon began to present symptoms of the disease. the rest is fairly self explanatory; the community has no experience whatsoever with the disease, so doesn't know how to stop the spread; the afflicted die, and when they are eaten, the disease spreads to a new set of people, they die, the disease spreads more, et cetera. this continues until the practice of funerary cannibalism is brought to an end, and the last known sufferer of the disease dies in 2009.

so there's a couple things to note here. firstly, CJD, the disease that likely struck the initial sufferer, is incredibly rare. it affects roughly one in a million people, and only 85% of these cases are the result of spontaneous generation. secondly, the only reason that it was able to spread to such a degree is because cannibalism was practiced regularly in this culture. to act as though any cannibalism (ESPECIALLY in a culture where cannibalism is not normal) will lead to prion disease is absolutely absurd. the likelihood of even encountering someone with a prion disease is wildly low, and even then, if the brain and spinal tissue are avoided, the disease most likely won't transmit between the consumer and the person being eaten.

ultimately, saying that cannibalism will give you a prion disease is as absurd as saying that going to the doctor for a blood transfusion is going to give you HIV. blood transfusion might be capable of spreading HIV, but in normal circumstances, this will not happen. there is nothing inherent to blood transfusion that causes HIV, just as there's nothing inherent to cannibalism that causes prion diseases. yes, cannibalism would most likely give you a prion disease; if you happened to live in a community that already regularly practiced cannibalism, where a prion disease was already running rampant. yes, cannibalism will give you a prion disease; if you happen to stumble into one of the one people per million who has one, fail to recognize a single symptom that might deter you, and then choose to eat brain or spinal tissue rather than meat.

once again, this isn't trying to be some weird edgy cannibalism joke, i just think it's important that people have an understanding of where diseases come from and how they spread. kudos if you read this whole tangent

[thebadchoicemachine]

AU where everything is fine and everyone gets hugs on a regular basis.

- Tommy gives up his discs much earlier to avoid his friends getting hurt. As a result L’manburg is granted it’s freedom almost entirely peacefully and Eret doesn’t feel the betray them to end the war!

- He still builds a giant castle house and wears a crown. People refer to him as “king” as a joke and sign of upbeat respect but he’s  just a normal friend.

- Actually, there is no president or king. It’s a community. More of a family than a country. Everyone’s voice is considered important. They have laws they all made together and a court house where everyone comes to decide big changes. Everyone holds the other accountable. For the most part people are just allowed to do whatever.

- Sally’s still here. She just is gone a lot for work but she visits as much as she can and its always a pleasant time! She’s grown just as fond of her brother in law Tommy (and Tubbo) as she is of her own son.

- Tommy actually respects her and rubs in Wilbur’s face the fact his sister in law is his favorite sibling.

- Schlatt still shows up but he’s just a businessman. Him and Wilbur are childhood friends. Fundy is his godson and they have lots of fun bonding scamming people when he’s in town.

- Technoblade has a giant fuck-you fortress up north in the tundra biome as well as an even bigger fuck-you-for-real underground potato farm. He shows up occasionally to bully his brothers and threaten god spar with Dream.

- Philza has not moved there, he’s out adventuring far away, but he has visited and plans to again and spends like 80% of his spare time writing/reading letters to/from his sons. 

- the Badlands are flourishing. They have so many cats and 50% of them are named after some variation of muffin

- Niki has a giant bakery. So big. It connects to Eret’s castle because Them, Tubbo, and Her just kept adding on more things. It’s got like a giant dining room and a waterslide and a garden and a pet room. It’s amazing.

- Sapnap is getting therapy for his animal killing obsession. He still does it, like, a bunch but much less and usually not to really important ones. He also now has many more pets of his own. He... he still commits arson so so much. Maybe more, actually, kinda like he traded the pe slaughter for more arson.Oh well. People are happy.

- Quackity... is still Quackity. Something in his brain just goes “we’ve got a fatass and a big brain, let’s cause problems” and then he does. But in this world he’s not traumatized or possessed so his antics are more “lets annoy Skeppy until he or someone caught in the crossfire decides to attack us” and less “im going to resurrect my abusive ex-feince so I can use him as a political meat puppet after I literally eat his heart and piss on his grave.”

- George has a goddamn alarm clock.

- Dream minds his own fucking business and doesn’t try to start a war every three days. He’s still technically fighting Tommy over the disks but it’s more in good spirit and less... you know... “White flags by dawn or you’re DEAD.”

- Wilbur sings a lot and it turns into more of a concert. Sometimes Quackity will join in and sometimes he’ll dance with the rest of the crowd. It’s become a tradition to hold kind of parties. Niki will bake and sometimes join Wilbur in a song. Everyone can have a turn preforming something if they want. Schlatt does stand up and Wilbur looses it every time. Most people just have a good time dancing and eating.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Guess it’s good brother dream brain rot time now that we’ve pretty much canonized phoenix Tommy in it. I must now do my proper due diligence. Adding in my two cents and furthering the spread of my brand, phoenix Tommy.

When Tommy is a little tiny thing Phil does everything in his power to try and keep it quiet that Tommy isn’t a regular avian hybrid, but a phoenix. Things like phoenixes, dragons, or other mythical avians are extremely rare mutations that happen seemingly without any reason but will often reoccur within the same bloodline more often than not. 

Phil is something mythical. Maybe a dragon, maybe a griffin, maybe even something a little less well known like the zhenniao, yatagarasu, or alicanto. Either way he’s something mythical, it runs in his blood. It ends up running in Tommy’s too. Phil is one of the few mythological avians who doesn’t hide his features because people are usually far too fearful of both him an Technoblade to do anything. Unfortunately, what people weren’t scared of was the idea of trying to kidnap a child.

There were attempts to steal away Wilbur when he was little. Before he started presenting and turned out to be just your regular avian. There were fewer attempts when it came to Tommy. There was unfortunately one attempt that ended up being successful, he was stolen from the cradle and subsequently lost in a skirmish when Techno and Phil caught up to the man who took Tommy. 

Dream found baby Tommy floating along in the river, figured the kid was probably abandoned since he’d heard of orphaned children being floated down rivers and never seen again, and subsequently took Tommy in. 

Everything was fine and okay for a couple years and Tommy was quickly accepted into the family. Unfortunately when Tommy turned five his traits started to come in and he nearly burned down the house. The family didn’t want to abandon Tommy but realizing he was a mythical avian was a problem to say the least. So Dream, having recently become an active admin, gathered up his things and left with Tommy. He didn’t blame his family for their worries but he wasn’t going to abandon his little brother either. Not when he’d found Tommy. Not when he’d been the one to practically raise Tommy. 

Dream and Tommy were very distrustful of strangers still for obvious reasons and Tommy was pretty much stuck wearing the mask in order to protect himself, but Dream did what he could. Dream didn’t originally wear a mask actually, he decided they should match as a way to make Tommy feel bad for always having to wear the mask when he didn’t want to. He found private places that were safe where Tommy could practice flying and stretch his wings since Dream was super concerned early on about them atrophying and never being able to properly carry Tommy. Sure, it was too dangerous for Tommy to actively go flying often, but Dream didn’t want to accidentally ruin Tommy’s chances of ever being able to fly. The most important facet of their relationship is that he wanted to protect Tommy but never cage him.

When Dream first took control of the Dream SMP it was originally so he could make it a safe space for himself and Tommy, only allowing his few friends who knew about Tommy and what he was to join, like Sapnap and George who have a super good relationship with both Dream and Tommy in this au. Dream is still super jumpy and protective of Tommy and Tommy trusts people a lot less, but Tommy also acts as something of an ambassador in Dream’s interpersonal relationships, keeping Dream from becoming too jumpy and letting them decay. Similarly Dream taught Tommy to be a lot more cautious of strangers and this Tommy is a heck of a lot stronger having grown up with a pvp legend like Dream. 

When other people started joining it was still a controlled enough environment that while cautious, Dream let Tommy “play” for lack of a better word. Three canon lives is a rule everywhere that everyone has to abide by, regardless of what admin you’re living under. The admin doesn’t get to decide what’s canon either, it’s something seemingly up to chance. Or maybe the gods. No one knows what makes being pushed off a cliff by your mortal enemy so different from falling off one by your own stupidity, but some people theorize it’s the intention of the action.

Obviously this isn’t a rule that applies to Tommy. They both know it, him and Dream. And here’s the thing. Some legends say that there are no draw backs to a phoenix dying. Others say that too many deaths too quickly will slowly harm the phoenix. Both of these are false. A phoenix needs deaths. Canon deaths. The same way that kids needs to be tossed in the air and spun around to help develop their brains as really little kids, a phoenix needs to die repeatedly for their brains and bodies to properly mature fully and in a healthy manner. It’s an actual necessity for them to die, in fact, too few canon deaths run the risk of a phoenix getting sick and dying permanently. 

So when new people join the Dream SMP, Dream doesn’t hesitate letting Tommy side against him. It’s an unspoken rule between them. Good brother Dream goes pretty similar to canon up until Pogtopia actually. Dream doesn’t hesitate to take those two canon lives and Tommy intentionally misses during their duel. He ends up with way more canon deaths than just two, and he keeps secret what they are from the rest of the SMP, saying the two times Dream killed him were the canon two. Each time he dies his magic gets a little stronger, his feathers taking on an even glossier coat. He still gets pissed at Eret after the betrayal because everyone else doesn’t have unlimited canon lives, but Dream shushes and reassures him that if anyone does die permanently then he’ll help Tommy bring them back.

Phoenixes are creatures tied to the frayed and broken bridge that crosses life and death. Just like they can’t die and have dominance over flames, another power of the phoenixes is that they’re uniquely skilled when it comes to necromancy. Real necromancy. Not the human equivalent that brings back soulless husks with a tendency for destruction and malevolence. A phoenix is the only creature that can bring a soul back from the dead in tact. Tommy knows this by merit of instinct, and did it only once before for the sake of Dream. Regular people know this by merit of books like the one Schlatt tries to trade Dream.

So Dream and Tommy mostly put on an act while the war is happening but then act all buddy buddy and like actual brothers off the battle fields which confuses everyone (besides the already aware George and Sapnap) and mildly upsets Wilbur, but everyone just kinda gets used to it.

Until Pogtopia. Because we need some kind of conflict I’m giving Schlatt a very special role. Schlatt was a hybrid who got captured by poachers as a child and sold into the hybrid slave trade. He was one of the lucky few who turned the tables and managed to earn his freedom, ultimately turning towards being a poacher himself. Schlatt comes to L'manberg and becomes president with the intention of selling every hybrid in the country, in the Dream SMP as a whole, to his traders. The reason he chose the Dream SMP specifically? Well, wouldn’t you know it, he’s heard rumors that apparently there’s a phoenix hiding around somewhere. Not to mention the Dream SMP is absolutely loaded with hybrids because of Dream’s rather public policy about hybrid tolerance (he isn’t a hybrid, but he knows the affect being a hybrid has had on Sapnap and he still fears for Tommy so he tries to make somewhere that maybe one day Tommy can be open about what he is.)

Schlatt can’t immediately tell it’s Tommy who’s the phoenix because Tommy himself is an even rarer variation of phoenix called a soul flame phoenix, which is why his eyes and wings are a soul fire blue. Schlatt came in expecting crimson and our boy is out here with wings that look like the place where the sky meets the sea. Schlatt even dismisses Tommy initially and starts investigating some of the people who look human or avians with orange and yellow feathers. This is also why Phil can’t immediately recognize Tommy when he joins the SMP. While he can hide them with magic, Tommy usually has his wings on display since the Dream SMP is designed to be a safe space for hybrids. This Dream doesn’t have a ban on flying (he thought about it, maybe setting aside specific areas where winged hybrids could exercise, but it was quickly scrapped via Tommy repeatedly throwing himself off cliffs and then remembering he wasn’t supposed to be flying, immediately letting himself drop and die. Some of those ‘accidents’ were even canon and Dream just gave up on the rule.)

For this AU, I imagine that Dream would be a bit more in tune with people and empathetic so he’d probably call in Techno and Phil for help when he sees Wilbur starting to take a dive. Both out of worry for his own younger brother who’s sticking by Wilbur and consideration for the fact Wilbur himself took something of an older brother role. Sure he was a little jealous, but he understand well enough that everyone who meets Tommy either falls into one of two categories. They hate the kid and want him dead or they want to be his older sibling who’d burn down the world if he asked them to. George and Sapnap can both attest to the fact there are only two types of people in this world when it comes to Tommy and people usually start as the first before slowly becoming the second. 

So Techno and Phil show up early which is really good because Schlatt finally reveals his true intentions and neither Techno nor Phil are very chill with them. I dunno how the reveal will go between them and Tommy yet. I don’t even know for Good Brother Dream if we’re having Techno be a family friend or older brother so hard to say.

Anyway, I think that’d probably be where the main plot kinda starts to kick off so I’ll stop there for now. If I go for too much longer I’ll just end up wanting to write it…

[thatblackboianarchist]

Giftedness is a Spook

I personally think giftedness is a stupid concept. Basically, it’s the idea that certain children, so folks under the age of 18, are “smarter” in some general or abstract sense than others, or more competent, more talented, more skilled, “better thinkers”, whatever. This concept originated pretty much in the 19th and 20th centuries, where we began consolidating under the “intelligence” label and categorizing people based on “how smart” and “how dumb” they are. There is a lot of baggage associated with the term giftedness, a lot of it historical and bigoted, so let’s investigate and such.

The most used definition of giftedness is having an IQ score above 130, or two standard deviations above the mean of 100. Though this historical definition has faced lots of criticism, since it is clearly possible to have superior ability in some domain without having a conventionally high IQ score, such as in the arts, or debating and public speaking, or sports, or chess, or really anything really.

Due to the fact that the “IQ above 130” definition of giftedness falls short of actually capturing all high-achieving children, most modern gifted education programmes no longer use this as the sole indicator of giftedness, and rather adopt a more multidisciplinary approach. Now, most simply look for superior skill or talent in one or more key areas, which can be art, or sports, or leadership, and attempt to cultivate that, as well as looking for people with a generally higher IQ than the average in their age group.

The issue with this approach is that it views giftedness as some sort of intrinsic, fully general, conserved property that is only found in certain sects of the population, and thus categorizes people into “gifted” and “non-gifted”. This categorization falls short in part due to the existence of “twice-exceptional” students, who are gifted in one area, but require unique accommodations in other areas. So it appears that it is possible to be “gifted” and “non-gifted” at the same time, so just how useful is this concept?

What’s more, giftedness often focuses on general cognitive traits, such as gifted children have greater white matter density, or faster information processing speed, or hear sounds faster, or think more critically, but from my perspective, these just seem to be variations in human characteristics, in the same way that some children are taller than others or start puberty earlier than others. Everyone develops at their own pace and there are plenty of people who develop out of the norm, especially since concepts of child development almost always exclude neurodivergent children and their different cognitive and psychosocial milestones.

And they are not necessarily NATURAL or inevitable variations in human characteristics either. All the traits associated with intelligence - information processing speed, critical thinking, white and grey matter density, working memory capacity, creativity, executive functions, enhanced senses - are heavily influenced by societal factors.

For instance, a child that has been well-fed since birth is obviously going to have a more developed brain with a higher capacity for all those things than a child that has suffered chronic hunger. A child that receives nurturing and good parents is going to have a more developed brain a child that receives abusive and neglectful parents. A child that grows up in a war zone is going to be different cognitively and intellectually than a child that grows up in a relatively peaceful location.

And those developmental consequences aren’t always natural in the sense that they are innate, they are artificial, engineered by politicians, corporations, and a society that absolutely refuses to take the suffering of children seriously. Yet the children who have been disadvantaged by this abusive society are unlikely to be categorized as gifted. These children show lower scores on IQ tests and the school system thinks they’re dumb, or worse “average”. These children don’t show superior performance in any particular area, there must be something wrong with them, they’re not “special” like these gifted kids other here. They don’t need special help, they just have to follow the curriculum for the regular or the *gasp* dumb kids, geta 9-to-5 job, and wait 50 years to retire, they won’t be these gifted kids that change the world.

LAME. This is lame. This is the wrong way to think about the differences that exist between children. And what’s worse, it’s so definite and unchanging, as if the traits associated with intelligence cannot be changed. As if we can’t help children with their working memory capacity, or their creativity, or their critical thinking, or their executive functions. As if we can’t help children find something they enjoy and let them cultivate that activity. These are all skills that can be taught, but they aren’t taught at all. We just let the bell curve “form naturally” and then take the kids on the right-half of it and label them “gifted” and then discard the rest, even though we are capable of teaching them those skills.

Giftedness promotes two unhealthy narratives: (1) being average isn’t good enough and (2) being below average is bad. With regards to (1) and (2), it completely ignores all of the facets of a good life, or what can be a good life. In my view, a good life is one that you enjoy and are proud of. Where you have strong relationships with others, actual freedom and control over your life, where you have things that you’re good at or enjoy doing, where you are proud of what you’ve accomplished. It has nothing to do with “having a higher working memory capacity” what the fuck?

There is value in being “average” or “mediocre” or “below average” or “stupid”. You can still produce art that people enjoy. You can still be a good athlete. You can still get really good at a specific area of academia. You can still be a competent engineer. You can still connect with others and mean something to them. You can still travel the world, drink wine condescendingly, and have a good time meeting people and seeing things. You can still contribute to society, and you can even make innovations that change it, but you don’t have to make a “significant contribution” to a worthy member of society. You can still care about others. You already change society, just by being part of it, and that is enough.

Focus on the experiences you want to have, the relationships you want to build, and the skills you want to learn, not on “I want to be smarter” or “I want to have better memory” or “I want to be the best”. It’s okay to want to be smarter, or to have better memory, or even to be the best at something (since it’s not possible to be the best at EVERYTHING), but those things are relative.

When you become “smarter” at something, or the “best” or just better, at some specific domain, you will find that all the traits associated with intelligence tend to increase with regard to that specific domain. For example, when you get better at chess, you develop better problem-solving skills associated with chess, or more critical thinking in regards to games, or better memory for recalling chess piece arrangements or movement formation or techniques, or faster information processing speed in regards to processing your opponent’s and your own moves, or better “chess logic” or “chess reasoning skills”, or the ability to understand and reason about chess on it’s own.

Intelligence is relative and domain-specific, the superior memory you would develop in chess won’t cross over to, say, memorizing decks of cards, or generalize into just having a superior memory for all things. That’s not how human brains work, they are highly specific and skill-oriented. So when you focus on becoming “smarter in general”, you are essentially setting an impossible goal, because it’s not specific enough for you brain to be able to systemically learn and apply it. You have to be specific if you want to make any progress, after all, and this applies to our constructs of giftedness.

We have to be specific! We have to let children choose their interests and hobbies and help them develop natural talents, as well as explore their interests and help them reach a suitable level of competence, where suitability is determined by THEM, the child. When you let them develop interests and hobbies of their own choosing, they naturally will get “smarter” in that area, you know, better working memory and stuff in that regard.

And even if they don’t reach expert levels of performance, or perform averagely or even below average, it doesn’t really matter, since it’s not something they need to be an expert in. For knowledge that is universally relevant, like comprehensive sexual education, you should work on ensuring that your average is a high standard. But if the piece of knowledge or skill doesn’t meet “nigh-universally relevant” or “necessary to function in this society”, then who cares how will people learn it? Especially since they can always come back in the future and re-learn it, or improve on it.

We also have to address child suffering and ensure that all children have good and strong support networks, are well-fed, have medical care, are free from abuse, etc. This makes it easier for them to actually have the time, energy, and cognitive capacity to choose their own interests and hobbies, AND work at them. It also helps them make relationships, explore, learn, and make a good life for themselves.

Also, a quick note. Interests are just things that you like to do or have a feeling for; hobbies are recreational pursuits that you actively engage in. So, an interest can be looking at pictures of castles online, a hobby can be actively seeing castles in person. It’s more or less an arbitrary distinction, but I like to use them in tandem to cover all the bases.

[cakelanguage]

This took much longer than I thought it would, but work has been absolutely exhausting lately. I'm honestly just excited that I get to share this with you all because I really wanted to participate in Hurt!Noct Week. This is a combination of day 1 prompts: buried alive and captured by Nifleheim (at least sort of?). This is just the 1st chapter, but I figured I’d share at least this bit for now. I hope you enjoy this!

You can also read this on AO3

-

He should’ve called Ignis. Or texted Gladio that he was going to be ten minutes late to their training session. Or Astrals, accepted Prompto’s offer to walk home with him even though his house was in the opposite direction.

But he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d strolled down the bustling streets, thinking about the planned King’s Knight session later that night. He scrolled idly through the mission details, trying to formulate a plan of attack. The last time Noctis had attempted this mission he’d been severely outclassed and had to abandon the mission lest he lose what little loot he’d been able to pilfer from the dungeon. With Gladio’s character acting as their tank, he could have Ignis on range attacks and healing. Prompto had the best stealth stats so they could have Prompto looting the place while the rest of them took care of the bigger monsters. Noctis fancied himself an all-around player so he could assist wherever needed the most help.  

Caught up in his mini strategy session, he didn’t realize he was on a collision course with someone until he ran right into them. He stumbled, juggling his phone between his hands in an attempt to save it from meeting its demise on the pavement below.

“Watch where you’re going,” the man he ran into grumbled, brushing imaginary dirt off his jacket.

The man was dressed lavishly in a wide variety of patterns and textures. His coat looked sturdy and thick like it would keep out even the harshest of cold winds. The scarf around his neck was the brightest piece of clothing he wore—the reddish-orange silk oddly complementing the man's red-violet hair. Not a sliver of the man’s skin was visible besides the tip of the man’s fingers and his face under the shade of his fedora.

He had a right to be upset even if half of him wanted to insist that the man could have moved too. He shoved that thought down and instead nodded his head, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Sorry about that,” Noctis apologized. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“Yes, I figured as much.” The man squinted at him, his head cocking to the side. “Hold on a moment, don’t I know you?”

Not for the first time, he was thankful for his privacy. His father had done a remarkable job at keeping him much out of the public eye. People knew who he was, but because he wasn’t in any of the newspapers or rag magazines that most celebrities appeared in he could go through life like normal. He didn’t have to think about paparazzi waiting outside his school or people approaching him asking for something or other.

“Probably not,” Noctis said, “maybe you’ve seen me walking home before? I go to the high school three blocks away.”

Shaking his head, the man inspected his face more thoroughly. “No that’s not it. I’ve definitely seen you before.” He felt as if the man could count his pores, and Noctis shuffled backward away from the man’s heavy stare. “Have you got an uncle that works at the palace? I used to work there.”

The man gave Noctis a private quirk of his lips like he was privy to some hidden joke that only he knew.

“Oh that’s… nice?”

The man nodded absentmindedly gaze still heavy on Noctis. “Hm, you really do look familiar,” he commented. “Quite handsome too.”

“Thanks?” Noctis looked down at his uniform and his loosened tie and wondered if there was a polite way to excuse himself from the conversation. He didn’t want to be rude by walking away from the man but he really did need to get going or he was going to be later than he thought to Gladio’s training session. “Well, I’m sorry for walking into you like that, but I gotta get going.”

“Right, right, of course.” The man swept a hand through his hair sheepishly. “It’s not like I can keep the prince from his important tasks just to talk with me.”

Ice filled Noctis’ veins as his title was casually thrown out by the man who claimed he couldn’t place his face. He stared at the man, uncomprehendingly. This was starting to look like the beginning of one of Ignis’ crime drama shows. Why did the man lie? What was his angle? What was going on?

“Who are you?” Noctis asked, channeling his calm façade to the max.

“A man of no consequence, I assure you.” The man waved him off with a few shooing gestures. “Off you go, your highness.”

Noctis gave him a wary look and an awkward bob of his head. He needed to get out of here. Ready to put this whole interaction behind him, he stepped to the side of the man to continue his route. Except he didn’t get very far before a hand latched onto his wrist with surprising force.

A violent tug had him wrenching himself back around, his shoulder twinging at the sudden jerk. Face-to-face with the man once more, Noctis saw how the man’s expression was colder, harsh in the afternoon sun. His teeth were bared in a sneer—looking for all the world like a coeurl.

“Let go,” Noctis ordered, now glaring at the man who wouldn’t leave him alone. “Didn’t you just tell me to go?”

A taunting smile peaked through the man’s sneer. “Now why would I do that?” He asked.

Noctis clenched his fists and bit out another order. “Let go of me, now.” He grabbed his phone with his free hand and quickly dialed the palace’s emergency numbers. It would be mildly embarrassing if Gladio found out he’d called the Crownsguard on a regular citizen, but his SAS kidnap training was blaring in his ears. “I’m warning you, I can have you arrested.”

A soft tsk came from the man who shook his head at Noctis’ threat. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

He opened his mouth to demand his release again, but all that came out was a choked-off yelp as something heavy struck his head. His knees refused to hold up his body and he collapsed to the concrete. The skin of his palms was torn in his attempt to catch himself, but he couldn’t feel it; the sharp pain by his temple shadowed the pain in his palms.

He turned his gaze back to the blurry figure of the man, who had been joined by another figure. His brain felt sluggish, his thoughts thick in his mouth as he tried to string a sentence together. “W-what—“

“Shh,” The man shushed, ignoring Noctis’ flinch as he tenderly ran a hand through Noctis’ hair. “Good night, sweet prince.”

The last thing he saw was a fist coming at his face.

Then nothing.

He regained consciousness with a choked-off groan. He felt like he’d gone through one of Gladio’s marathon training sessions and lost miserably.

Laying still, he took stock of his body. His lip was swollen and tender as he wet his dry, split lips. The right side of his face throbbed in-tune with his heartbeat and Noctis could barely get that eye to open more than a crack. What was he supposed to do? He’d been trained on how to handle a kidnapping situation; Cor had made it abundantly clear the variations in which people would try to snatch him up. But this wasn’t just a ‘what if.’ He’d been kidnapped not even four blocks away from his school.

It was a matter of figuring out what he could do to get out of here. He still had his magic though admittedly his connection to the Crystal felt like he was trying to pull at the energy through a strainer. Like sifting through a pile of hay for the needle—all of his abilities being the needle and the presence of his magic being the hay.

But that didn’t mean he was helpless. He just needed to approach the situation the right way and he could escape. He tried to remain calm, limiting his breathing to shallow breaths to keep up his ruse. This became a fruitless act when he heard someone or something step up behind him.

A familiar voice came from behind him. “It appears our guest of honor is awake,” the man cooed. Some of the man’s nonchalance had vanished, replaced by cruel giddiness. “And how are you, your majesty?”

Like hell he was going to go along with this guy’s fake care. His pride wouldn’t let him bite out a pleasantry, instead choosing to press his steely gaze on the eccentric man. His stare didn’t deter the man’s delight in his situation which only served to make his blood simmer in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to punch the smug look off that face.

“I think you’ll find, Noctis,” the man loomed over him, nudging him lightly in the ribs with his boots, “that I have the upper hand.”

He didn’t. Noctis refused to believe it. He may not have had any weapons on him, but Noctis had dialed the emergency response number for the palace. By dialing the number he had ensured back-up would be on their way to his location in less than five minutes. Well, the location of where the call took place. He couldn’t feel the shape of his phone in his pockets, but the Crownsguard would be able to pick up on any trail his kidnapper had left behind.

All he needed to do was wait.

“What do you want?” Noctis asked, shifting his position on the floor to try and alleviate the pressure on his lower back. He could already feel the scar tissue there begin to burn and ache.

“Already wanting me to reveal my dastardly plan?” The man questioned. “How cliché.” Noctis’ face must’ve given away his annoyance because the guy clucked his tongue at his expression.

“I realize this isn’t one of your silver-spoon soirees, but it’ll serve as a good setting for the video.” He straightened and made his way over to the small set-up of… camera equipment? “We need you to put on your best performance, your highness.” He looked up with a cold smile that sent a shiver running down Noctis’ spine. “Though do save some for the main event.”

“So you’re gonna, what? Ransom me or something?” Noctis squirmed in his binds. “Is that your plan?”

Humming noncommittally, the man continued setting up his equipment. “Or something.”

“Not much of a talker huh?” He was banking on being able to get some info out of the guy so he could shout it over what was sure to be his ransom video.

The waiting was bizarre. Despite the discomfort, he didn’t feel like he was all there—though the main contributor to this was the head injury—the quiet sounds of rustling cables and footsteps gave him peace of mind amongst the simmering unrest and anxiety as the experience faded into less immediate danger. If only he could concentrate on his armiger and summon the knife he stored there—then he’d be able to warp out of his binds and escape.

A quiet huff of laughter broke through the silence; it took him a few moments to realize the laugh came from him . It wasn’t funny, not by a long-shot. He was being stupidly optimistic, especially since his vision still wavered between doubled and covered in black splotches. He probably had one hell of a shiner too.

He wished he’d called someone to get him.  

The derelict state of his mind was brushed away as a triumphant cry echoed slightly around him. He squinted at the man who looked at him expectantly.

“What?” Noctis asked, tiredly. He had no desire to give the man the reactions he was hoping for. Actually, the other being put off by his apathy made him feel better. “Did you finally get your whole… set-up ready?”

The man had the audacity to pout at him. “Now you’re just no fun,” he complained. “Aren’t you curious as to why I’ve brought you here?”

Noctis shrugged. “Not really?” The motion caused his chains to rattle in the tight space. “Most of the guys I’ve been kidnapped by all want the same thing: revenge or money.”

“I can assure you that my reason is definitely not for any monetary reason.” The man took a step towards him. “I suppose you could call it revenge, though I admit you are simply unlucky—to be chosen by the gods.” He cupped Noctis’ cheek with surprising tenderness, brushing his thumb along his cheekbones. “You do bear a striking resemblance to him.”

A nail dug it the flesh underneath his eye and Noctis hissed, attempting to turn his face out of the man’s grip. “What a pity,” the man said, releasing his hold on Noctis. “Before we begin, I think it’s only fair that you finally be able to put a name to your captor.”

“Oh now you want to introduce yourself?” Noctis grumbled—because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life apparently.

Fortunately, the man seemed amused by his comment. “Do forgive me for my rudeness, your highness .” The mocking emphasis he placed on the title was not lost to Noctis, but he didn’t dignify him with an answer. “I’ve been reduced to the moniker ‘Adagium,’ by the royal line of Lucis.”

It sounded familiar, but Noctis couldn’t place where he’d heard it. Had the name come up in his studies? Was it a political thing?

Adagium sighed and shook his head. “I’m not surprised you don’t know of me. Your dear father is desperately trying to keep you in the dark.”

Noctis furrowed his brow. “What do you mean he’s keeping me in the dark?”

With a shake of his head, Adagium stepped back over to his equipment. “I’ve talked enough for now, it’s time we get the show started lest the party be stopped before it’s even begun.” Adagium grinned at him. “The stage is yours, prince Noctis.”

A red light blinked to life on the camera as Noctis stared into the lens. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Did Adagium want him to beg? To show whoever was watching the video that he was scared? He wasn’t. Scared that it is. Unnerved? Yes, how could he not be when he was kidnapped and tied up in some unknown location.

His captor sighed tilting his hat to cover his face and—

Adagium changed. No longer was he wearing the extravagant, pattern-clashing, textile collage of an outfit. He was in a set of armor, his face masked and hair tucked away under the rigid helmet. Noctis had only seen the armor in person once before on that fateful escape from Tenebrae as he reached desperately for Luna’s hand.

Magitek armor.

To see the man stripped of his individualism did more to bother Noctis than he expected. Something about the metal, placid expression staring at him had his stomach clenching nervously. How had Adagium done it? An illusion? But how? To his knowledge, illusion magic was typically only used by the messengers of the gods; he figured he’d already met all of them at this point with his connection to Luna.

With four jerky steps, Adagium stood beside him, a hand painfully clasping his shoulder. Noctis side-eyed the man as if he could glean some sort of direction for what he wanted Noctis to do.

Once again, Adadgium broke the silence. “Salutations, Your Majesty, Regis Lucis Caelum,” Adagium said, “113th monarch in the long line of Lucis.”

He’d somehow managed to project his voice to see like he was behind the camera again. Another impossibility Noctis didn’t know how to find an answer to.

“As you can see, I have an auspicious guest with me, one I know you’re well-acquainted with. Won’t you say hello to your dear father, Noct?” Adagium asked.

Gritting his teeth, Noctis glared at a spot on the wall. He wasn’t going to give the other what he wanted, not when he could still deny him of his game. If he could weaponize his silence, he would.

With an angry tut from Adagium, Noctis’ hair was yanked with a merciless tug, pulling his head backward and exposing his throat. He could feel the handful of hair desperately trying to cling to his scalp as he let out a small whimper at the rough treatment.

“What a difficult boy,” Adagium commented, “he must’ve been quite the child to raise. To think he’d forget his manners at a time like this.”

���Shut up,” Noctis growled.

“Oh he speaks! Splendid! Now while I’ve broken through that stony exterior, we can commence the show.”

Suddenly, a knife was pressed against Noctis’ neck. He flinched back into Adagium’s hold on his hair, but the knife followed, the edge of the blade making a small, shallow cut on the delicate skin of his neck. He was helpless, tied up, and at the mercy of his captor. And it didn’t seem like Adagium had any qualms against hurting him.

The blood that lazily oozed from the wound dripped down his neck and settled into his jugular notch like a morbid jewel. Noctis heard Adagium’s hum of approval and could feel the pressure of the knife increase slightly as if Adagium had lapsed in his awareness that he was the one holding the knife and thus in control of how far the blade entered Noctis’ flesh.

“Now, I understand why Lucis values black as a special color—it goes amazingly with blood red, wouldn’t you agree?”

He said it so off-handedly that Noctis wasn’t sure who he was talking to: Noctis, Regis, or himself. What was clear, was that Adagium had a deep-seated grudge against Lucis—the royal line in particular. But why? Was he from one of the outer nations that had been left behind when his father had to pull back the wall to just the city of Lucis?  

Adagium broke out of his musings, finally pulling the knife back enough that it was just resting against the cut. “Never mind that,” he said. “I expect you’re waiting for some kind of demand from me. Money? Some impossible wish for power? Recognition?” Noctis could hear the smirk in his voice, that deceptively playful quirk of his lips. “No, I don’t want any of those, not explicitly at least.”

What do you want? Noctis didn’t voice no matter how much he wanted to. This little video of Adagium’s seemed to be going nowhere which could be good if this was a live broadcast, build the tension maybe.

“My reason for kidnapping Noct is very simple: because I could.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that Noctis’ brain stumbled to a halt. That’s it? Because he could? That didn’t make any sense, not when Adagium had brought up some kind of revenge. “What happened to your revenge?” Noctis asked. “You mentioned your reasons could be considered revenge and the gods.” He remembered the forlorn look in Adagium’s eyes before the rage had trickled back in. “You said I resembled someone, Adagium.”

He knew he was being bold, foolhardy more accurately, but his captor hadn’t revealed his name and Noctis was hoping if he brought up his aforementioned desire for revenge on film he’d reveal more of his reasoning. If the heroes in movies could get a villain to reveal their schemes, Noctis should be able to do it to Adagium.

Adagium’s grip on his hair tightened, Noctis crying out as several strands were tugged out of his scalp. “Oh Noct,” he purred, “I see you’ve decided to join the conversation.”

Noctis felt his skin crawl at the contemptuous pride in Adagium’s voice. He’d overstepped with his nosy questions.

“Yes, I did say that, didn’t I?” Adagium said. “You remember Adagium, do you not Your Majesty? The mythical monster locked away in the dark depths of Angelgard for ages, lost to time amongst the words of false kings and fraudulent nations.”

Who was Adagium? Noctis wondered, a stray tear slipping down the side of his face towards his hairline. “Why?” Noctis whispered, afraid of the answer he’d receive but unwilling to let his question lie.

The magitek disguise rippled ominously, a black miasma seeping through the gaps of armor. Quickly, the figure of Adagium was being overshadowed by the mist. The tiny glints of gold light within the consuming shadows was what gave away the nature of the mist: Starscourge.

Eyes wide, Noctis struggled in the man’s grip. He remembered when the Starscourge had infected him as a child when the Marilith had sliced his back open and nearly severed his spinal cord. The burning agony of the scourge ravaging his body, when not even his coma brought him relief from its infection. The hushed cries of similarly infected at the edges of his mind like a web of anguish, ever-growing with each infected. Get away getawaygetaway.

His struggling was for naught as the black mirage leaned closer to him. “Why?” Adagium asked the hand that held the knife lazily dragged to the center of his chest. “Because I was saving people. Because that first false king was jealous and power-hungry, over-eager to be the one to wear the crown. And the rest,” he spat the word, “never bothered to question any of their forebears, convinced that they had always done what was best for the kingdom of Lucis.”

Noctis shook his head as best he could. “But why would they—“

“Because the gods didn’t stop them.” The knife in his hand pressed harder against Noctis’ chest and hissed at the sting of the blade. “But the time of reckoning is steadily approaching!”

With a flourish of his hand, the knife was sent away. Noctis thought it was eerily similar to accessing the armiger. “While all the pieces aren’t in their proper place just yet, a bit of ‘divine retribution’ soothes the soul.”

“What do you mean by divine retribution?” Noctis asked, his voice far quieter than he expected.

The miasma cloud seemed to grin impossibly wide, though he couldn’t discern an actual face. “I thought it would be perfect for you to atone on behalf of your forebears, Noct. And to have your father helplessly watch as he struggles to find you.”

Adagium stood behind him once more and wrapped his arms loosely around Noctis’ shoulders. “Let’s have the chosen, King of Light spend some time in the dark,” he purred, black ichor dripping onto his shirt. Onto his head. Onto his face. It was everywhere and Noctis couldn’t focus on anything else.

And then there was nothing.

[wreath-of-laurels]

Todoroki/Iida - Iida becomes a villain

So @doomsdaybeamxd​ prompted me with

Pairing: Todoiida AU: Iida falls in with the villains. Big Angst Time

I’d normally write a mini fic as is proper but my brain has too many ideas for this. So here’s a general idea of how I think it goes as if I actually tried to write a tiny bit, it wouldn’t stay a tiny bit. 

As it is, I’m writing at least some of this in Variations on a Theme. How much I’ll do, I don’t know.

Childhood friends

Shouto and Tenya met shortly after Rei was put in the mental hospital.

This happened because Enji was feeling guilty over Rei and seeing Shouto being lonely so was for once in his life was trying to be a semi-decent father and decided to arrange regular playdates.

No, Enji never considered to let Natsuo or Fuyumi play with Shouto. If he thought about it, he'd have reasons but they'd all suck.

Shouto was lonely and so was Tenya as he got bullied for being ‘weird’ and bit by bit they established a friendship.

There may or may not be mutual puppy crushes involved.

Enji after gaining a +1 in parenting points, loses 10,000 by saying that Tenya is the sort of good, loyal son that he’d be proud of, and accidentally implying that Tenya is there to change Shouto into a version of him.

This makes Shouto hate Tenya, assuming that he was in on it, and he refuses to spend anymore time with him. This upsets Tenya and baffles Enji. Enji doesn’t even consider the possibility that it was his fault.

Years pass.

They meet again at UA

Years past and Tenya is really looking forward to seeing Shouto again. Elementary and middle school were not fun and he got bullied a lot. Surely Shouto has forgiven him for whatever he did!

Nope. 

If anything Shouto’s angrier as he still has feelings for Tenya and he wants them gone. Shouto won’t even tell him why they’re no longer friends. Just that it’s Tenya’s fault.

The sports festival goes about the same as before except that Tenya gets the call about Tensei just before his fight with Shouto. 

Stain killed Tensei instead of crippled. His mother lets this drop on the phone.

Tenya instead of going home seeks out Shouto. Shouto’s older brother died. While he never talked about it, surely Shouto knows what it is like, maybe even knows how to cope.

Endeavor has just been blabbing away at Shouto. So Shouto is angry and totally avoids looking at Tenya or paying much attention at all, missing all the absolute BLATANT hints that Tenya needs help.

Shouto misconstrues Tenya’s disjointed ask for help and bitterly says that the normal thing is that the weak are ‘thrown out’ and the strong survive. Shouto has no clue that Tensei is dead. 

Whoops.

Tenya and Shouto have their match because the teachers haven’t heard about Tensei yet. It is a lot more brutal than the canon one. Shouto even loses himself for a while and uses his flame.

Tenya loses. Now he’s angry at Shouto too.

Shouto later has the chat with Midoriya, they have their match and Shouto starts thinking over things.

The next day Tenya refuses to talk about anything. None of the students have a clue what happened to Tensei.

The teachers do. Aizawa, Mic and Midnight went to school with Tensei. They try to be comforting. Tenya is super polite while raging inside that when Oboro died and Tensei was upset, they weren’t around. 

To be fair to the teachers, while Oboro and Tensei were close friends, Tensei wasn’t with the rest of them. Everyone was trying to keep Aizawa from falling apart at the time.

Tenya is NOT in his happy place.

Tenya goes after Stain

Tenya is a whole lot less patient at this point than his canon self. He doesn’t wait to go after Stain at this point. As his armour is at school, he uses his brother’s access cards and such to steal Villain stuff from his agency.

The one-on-one battle of Tenya against Stain goes initially better. He gets a few good hits in. Stain is ranting about Tensei was a fake hero. He eventually takes Tenya down but fail-safes in the villain gear kick in and electrocute Stain.

When Tenya gets a hold of himself, Stain is ranting about all the Iidas being false heroes that need to be cleansed. 

Tenya does not take this well.

At all.

And he has one of Stain’s knives.

Tenya finds himself wondering why his clothes are soaking wet. And red.

He then notices a few things (a) Stain is dead, probably has been for a while, (b) there’s a hero in the alley who apparently Stain attacked before Tenya showed up, (c) the hero is dead because they bled out, just like Tensei did, because Tenya was obsessed with killing Stain and (d) his parents and Aizawa have tracked him down and are watching in absolute shock.

Tenya runs. Aizawa recovers first and erases his Quirk, but Tenya runs all the time and even without it he is very, very fast. By the time, the Iida parents recover, Tenya has apparently disappeared into thin air.

This is because he kind of has. The League thought Tenya was Stain and Kurogiri warped him out of there.

Shouto finds out

Over at the Todoroki house, Fuyumi asks about how Tenya is doing, what with the death of his older brother. 

Shouto didn’t know but rolls his eyes. Though after some thought and after learning from Midoriya, it occurs to him that perhaps Endeavor doesn’t own Tenya. So maybe his actions had nothing to do with what Enji wanted.

 Also if there’s one thing he knows about Tenya is his older brother is his world.

And that expression on Tenya’s face during their match looked a lot like the nastier ones that Shouto himself has worn.

Shouto still has Tenya’s number from childhood and vice versa. He considered deleting it but at the time he was using it to remember just how much he hated Endeavor.

Tenya apparently sent some angry messages. 

“Oh no.”

Tenya is with the League

Tenya is so exhausted and upset about what he did and what his parents saw that he’s oddly accepting of being trussed up.

Tomura after some initial ranting about killing the kid who ruined the USJ (even though he didn’t), listens to the news, some police and hero chatter then puts his thinking cap on. 

Hero kid killed Stain. He is oh-so miserable about Stain being killed. I mean look at all the tears on his face . . . Good riddance.

Hero kid killed Stain when he was already out of the fight. Then kept on standing for the lolz. Nice. This could be interesting and Sensei is apparently all for it.

As Tenya is pretty much a Sim with its free will setting off at this point, Tomura instructs him through things, plants some ideas in his head and basically treats him like a very dumb pet. 

Not much happens until Stain’s diary is published and copycats start showing up. Tenya starts to wake up at this and it is not pleasant (though Tomura loves it).

Tomura pretty much points some out and lets Tenya loose and eventually Tenya comes back with a sword.

RIP Spinner.

Awwww... Tomura always wanted a little brother. 

Well, no he didn’t, but now he does.

Shouto and His Newly Reinvigorated Guilt Complex

Everyone is freaking out, trying to track down Tenya.

While they acknowledge that Tenya killed Stain, Shouto’s the only one who thinks that the Hero Killer Killer is the one responsible for killing an increasing number of Stain followers. The Iidas can’t believe that of their little boy, the teachers are letting their guilt taint their opinions and Midoriya and Uraraka are, at the end of the day, idealists.

Shouto knows what it is like to have your hatred of someone turn your life into a tunnel vision. If his father had killed his mother, Shouto has a very good idea of what would happen. 

As it was, Shouto seriously considered killing his father when he was younger. At the time, he only didn’t try to do it because it would hurt Fuyumi and he has a very hard time picturing Endeavor being able to die.

He honestly didn’t take into account that his mother wouldn’t want him to be a killer. 

He still doesn’t take that into account because Shouto, the idiot, hasn’t visited his mother because of everything that has happened. The guilt of not helping Tenya makes him ashamed and he doesn’t think he’s worthy of her. 

Shouto, you complete and utter idiot.

So he’s collecting (stealing) money from home, dyes his hair black and is going undercover to try to track Tenya down.

He’s really bad at the undercover bit (rich kid clothes) and his scar is very distinctive. Plus UA and Endeavor are tearing up the landscape to find him and he doesn’t have a magic portal man to transport him.

He’s all set to get caught when a mysterious burned man offers to show him the ways of the underworld for a price.

From here on?

I really don’t know but I don’t see the internship or summer camp arcs going the same way, if they happen at all.

[ionfusionpunk]

The Bad Batch: IMO

So! I watched the Bad Batch! TL;DR at the end 🙃

Ngl, and please don't bash me for this, but I haven't actually finished TCW? My mom and I are still only a couple episodes into season 1, but we're also trying to watch the episodes in chronological order, not release order, plus we're both busy people, so. Kinda hard. Means I haven't watched Season 7, yet, ergo I haven't watched the episode where we meet the Bad Batch. But like anyone embroiled in this fandom, I still know a fair bit about them/what happens.

I'm a little disappointed that Crosshair is the bad guy. Like, I get he's cranky? And I'm all for angst for any character, but, like. Based off the explanation they give in-show, Wrecker would have been an equally valid choice for the chip sorta working, imo. More valid, even, bc his genetic mutation has less to do with his brain directly in the same way Tech's, Hunter's, and Crosshair's mutations do.

Speaking of Wrecker, the Big Brute act? Nah. Not A Fan. I have multiple relatives on the spectrum (ASD), and I was honestly expecting Wrecker to come across like my brother does? i.e. he understands better if we don't layer our conversation with sarcasm/implications/subtext? But that doesn't make him dum, just less socially... proficient? ept? Smooth as everyone else.

Kay. Now, touching on the whitewashing, since this topic is gonna be everywhere. Look, I absolutely 100% agree that Filoni did us Dirty with how the clones all look. Echo, my poor child, you should have more melanin. Everyone, unless you have specific mutations, should have more melanin. They should also look younger, look more like Temuera, etc. etc. But. I don't stan hate of anyone on this blog, okay? We don't know why the choice to whitewash was made. I don't agree with it, but we shouldn't just hate on Filoni for that. In regards to the BB specifically, yes they could have chosen to alter appearances to be more politically correct. Consider though: identical art style connects BB directly back to TCW; art style makes the character immediately more familiar to younger/older/less involved viewers who otherwise won't have much of an opinion on the Dirty done. Please also consider that someone on the production team may have wanted to do right by our boys but for whatever reason were unable to this or the first time around, and that doesn't automatically make it Filoni's fault. Just... don't judge? Don't hate. There's enough of that in the world that I'll happily settle for disappointment and correcting my art to reflect what I believe the clones should have looked like.

Full disclosure, I in fact created a cis-female clone character a couple months ago. She was part of the Alpha batch and the first female mutation, and the trainers, looking upon her as lesser, took to calling her Omega as an insult. After proving she was very much a BAMF, she chose the name Oma and later became the Alpha trainer of other clones with mutations, including several with different intensities of albanism, vitiligo, neurodivergency, Force sensitivity, etc. I really like her and think she's a cool gal. (I don't have any art of her yet, unfortunately.)

On Omega: I adore her, okay? I love how she was copying Hunter it was so cute - akaskdjhf. And, like, is she Force Sensitive? Oh please oh please oh please let her be.

Now, I've seen some stuff about how another Dirty was done in 'bending over backwards' to make her female when she could have just been trans? Alright, look, I'm not gonna disagree, because you're right, but I also refuse to agree, because look: cloning isn't an exact science, even for the Kaminoans. Look at all the mutations they had. From what I understand (I'm no expert, so don't quote me on this, but also feel free to drop me some resources), it's not impossible, improbable, or unreasonable to assume that amongst alllll the clones created, a small percent didn't mutate female. Assuming that Jango was Near-Human, at least (the Kaminoans could have altered the alien DNA out of the base coding), the clones would have started as female fetuses before the Y-chromosome kicked in, right? That's how that works for us regular humans afaik. On top of that, there are exceptions to that rule, because then you have other mutations like mutations in the SRY gene or variations in the number of the sex chromosomes themselves, etc. Basically what I'm getting at is that there should have been more cis-fem clones, but chances are most of them were decommed or forced to undergo trans therapy (is that what you call it? Idk, I'm sorry, don't mean to offend). Omega most likely wasn't engineered to be female; she probably had extra mutations on top of that to make her more desirable to the Kaminoans to keep around for study (e.g. her Force sensitivity???).

On a final note, to end this with my Writer Brain, I would love to see them portray the side-affects of their mutations. Just - chef's kiss.

TL;DR: Dirties were done. Wrecker isn't stupid. Crosshair probably wasn't the best choice for villain, though Angst is Life and is Good. Whitewashing is a problem, but I am Aware of it and can keep myself from making the same mistakes while still enjoying SW content. And while it would have been nice to see a trans clone character, it's okay that Omega isn't, because the choice actually makes sense bc of Science. Have a lovely day :)

[okayto]

Murderbot Reference: Character Descriptions Part 2

Fandom reference! I tried to note every time a person/thing got a physical description, as well as additional info like how augments work, etc. Please note that there may be spoilers for all five books, but especially Network Effect.

This post contains:

ART’s Senses

ART’s Crew

Three

Rami, Tapan and Maro

Tlacey

Tlacey’s ComfortUnit

Targets (Network Effect)

Barish-Estranza: Eletra, Ras, and Supervisor Leonide

Augments (what they are/how they work)

Other Human Personal Tech (Non-Augments)

Other Bots/Machines: Agricultural Bot, Pathfinders, NE Target Drones, MB’s Drones

Other posts: Part 1; Part 3

ART’s Senses

·         Besides cameras, sees ship through internal sensors, “which provided data (heat, density, angles of motions, etc.) that didn’t translate into images, at least not visual images useful to humans.”

·         MB guesses that gaps in ART’s memory archives might look like “a giant interruption in the constant incoming reports from subsystems like life support, navigation, etc. It was tricky, because for ART these are not like discrete reports from connected systems, but more like the sensory input I would get from the pads on the tips of my fingers.”

·         Does have cameras in many areas, cameras hidden enough that MB didn’t know they existed until ART turned them on and provided access via the feed in NE.

·         Likes Amena and talks to her more gently than MB or other humans—it’s more careful of Amena’s feelings. Has talked about human adolescents in a positive way. ART is, on a regular basis, a teaching vessel.

 ART’s Crew

·         Iris: augmented human. Dark brown skin, wearing a decorative woven bracelet when rescued in NE and a light blue longsleeved T-shirt. Small, shorter and slimmer than Ratthi, but not much bigger than Amena. Dark hair is the curly kind that puffs out a lot, but in NE pulled back and tied up in a band. Hair is long enough that she lifted it up so MB could see her back/neck when checking for an implant. Longsleeved T-shirt and pants and soft shoes are the casual version of ART’s blue crew uniform. Some bruises and scrapes at rescue. Seth’s child.

·         Seth: tall, very dark brown skin, “with less hair than most SecUnits,” a mostly-hairless head; earlier description from photograph (later context makes this likely to be Seth) says “no hair on the front half of his head.” Iris’s parent, she calls him “Dad.” Captain of Perihelion.

·         Martyn is Iris’s other parent (called “Dad); Seth’s marital partner; earlier description from photograph (later context makes this likely to be Martyn posing next to Seth) says lighter skin than Seth, with short white hair; he/him

·         Kaede is about the same size as Iris, but skin is lighter and her hair is yellow

·         Matteo is small like Iris and Kaede, and has a lot of dark hair that at rescue had come loose from braids. They/Them.

·         Turi is young like Amena. They/Them

·         Karime uses she/her

·         Tarik uses he/him

·         On variation of crew uniform (made for MB): dark blue, pants and jacket of deflective fabric, good quality (better than Station Security), with lots of sealable pockets for weapons and drones. Stability fabric boots, probably tough enough to jam a hatchway. Looks like what human security would wear. ART’s crew logo on the jacket, which also has a collar that folds down.

 Three

·         SecUnit, with projectile weapon built into arm

·         Armor flexes if it shifts its shoulders

 Rami, Tapan, and Maro

·         All wearing variations on work clothes, no uniform logos. Either Rami or Maro has an implant, but none are augmented. Part of a group marriage of 7 people, with 5 children of various sizes. MB thinks all are young—not far from adolescence.

·         Rami: tercera, “which was a gender signifier used in the group of non-corporate political entities known as the Divarti Cluster,” te/ter. Purple hair, red eyebrows, light brown skin. Wearing a jacket.

·         Tapan: female. Multicolored braids wrapped up around her head, blue jewel-toned feed interface clipped to ear, slightly darker skin than Rami. Wearing a flower-patterned t-shirt.

·         Maro: female. Very dark skin, silver-colored little puffs of hair, “almost beautiful enough to be in the entertainment media.”

 Tlacey

·         Augmented human female

 Tlacey’s ComfortUnit

·         Physical configuration doesn’t match SecUnit standard.

·         Lots of hair, silver with blue and purple on the ends, pulled back and braided like Tapan’s but in a much more complicated pattern.

·         Bare arms show no metal, and no gun ports

 Targets (Network Effect)

·         When fully affected: look like tall, thin augmented humans. Dull gray skin. Narrow human features, dark brows standing out against smooth gray skin. Colorless lips.

·         Not completely identical: one Target on ship is slightly taller and has broader shoulders than the other.

·         Targets on ships: wearing formfitting protective suits and partial helmets that initially left a lot of their faces bare. One on the B-E explorer wore “more casual human clothing:” dark green-black pants and jacket, black shirt with a collar. Shoes had heavy treads, designed for rough planetary terrain. Hair looked more normal, with reddish brown tight curls cut close to the head.

·         Targets and colonists: gray skin is a progressive condition, not natural or cosmetic effect, some still look like humans who were altered rather than aliens. Not all who still looked somewhat human were fighting on the same side. Most of fighting group wore “the kind of rough work clothing normal for colonies or mining, a cheaper, more battered version of ART’s environment suits with hoods but no breathing gear, or a mix of clean work clothes, plus a random collection of what looked like old uniforms and protective gear.”

 Barish-Estranza, Eletra, Ras, and Supervisor Leonide

·         B-E uniforms are red and brown with corporate logos

·         Eletra and Ras both wear B-E uniforms that are disheveled and torn.

·         Eletra has brown skin and dark hair that reaches at least to her shoulder blades.

·         Supervisor Leonide has “mid brown” skin “that was common to a large percentage of humans,” with an artificially smooth, even tone that indicated cosmetic enhancement. Dark hair wrapped around the top of her head and she has small metallic and gemstones set in the rim of one exposed ear.

 Augments

·         According to MB, are “supposed to help humans do things they couldn’t do otherwise, like interface with the feed more completely or store memory archives.”

·         Augments that aren’t feed interfaces are meant to correct physical injuries or illnesses.

·         Augments are meant to be helpful. Implants are different (MB compares implants to governor modules, something the person has little to no control over)

·         Normal augment would have filaments extending directly into the human nervous system. Some augmented humans may have dataports/plug-in interfaces in the back of their necks, since MB is able to pass off its dataport as one of these often.

·         Normal augmented human (augmented with feed) has interface built into brain; non-augmented humans have removable interfaces (excluding implants, which seem to be regular interfaces just not removable without surgery).

·         Augments and constructs work with “machine-readable code written into human DNA”

·         Augmented humans can work more fully in the feed; MB thinks that the drugged-up GrayCris assassins wouldn’t be possible to control with a removable interface, so the controller must be augmented (and this proves correct).

 Other Human Personal Tech

·         Un-augmented humans can’t access the feed unless their interface is working and attached properly. Tapan’s in-ear interface was taken out while ART’s MedSystem worked, and she had to put it back in before she contacted her partners.

·         “Normal external interfaces for humans were designed to look like all kinds of things, from carved natural wood to skin tones to jewels or stones or enamel art pieces to actual plain metal with a brand logo.”

·         Human voices on the feed sound like their physical voices, and can show emotions. Humans (and augmented humans) usually subvocalize when talking on the feed.

·         During killware attack in ES, Pin-Lee, Mensah and two crewmembers each has portable manual feed interfaces they used to shore up SecSystem; allowing them feed access without using their personal on-body interfaces.

·         MB says in AC that killware and malware can’t do anything to humans or augmented humans; the killware attack in ES hurts augmented humans enough that one needs rescue breathing. This could be MB’s lack of knowledge, or it could be because the ES killware is rare, essentially a disembodied bot and an extremely uncommon/unheard of tactic.

Other Bots/Machines

·         Agricultural bot: almost 10 meters (~32 feet) tall, covered with spikes. Lower body has 10 long spider limbs for moving around without crushing anything, upper part is a long curving “neck” with a long head also covered in spikes

·         Pathfinders: like drone for space. Active scanners that can zip around a planet collecting environmental information and terrain imaging, plus looking for comm signals, possible energy sources, and hostiles. Can relay audio as ART uses it to threaten Targets. Very expensive.

·         Drones used by NE Targets: model MB is unfamiliar with. Round and as big around as MB’s head, any holes for cameras or weapons hidden despite size. Made of stealth material (or pattern) that can’t be spotted by camera, but regular vision OK.

·         Drones used in ASR, pulled from the hopper: “They were the small kind, barely a centimeter across; no weapons, just cameras.”

·         Also in ASR, MB mentions that there also exist drones that aren’t much bigger than the hopper drones but include a small pulse weapon (but as far as availability through the company, you have to get an upper tier package)

·         MB’s regular drones: small enough that it can have a flock (at least a couple dozen?) land on it and not impede movement in an EVAC suit. MB mentions technique where it can have drone accelerate a drone straight at a target’s face, and if hit an eye or an ear it goes straight to the brain, so probably fairly small. They are also easy to visually overlook when perched in a room recording people, or sneaking through a doorway. They’re also easy to store in MB’s many pockets.

[gummybearzgocrazyagain]

MALEC FIC REC POST, vol.3

vol. 1

vol.2 

Media AU

Society Rules by @Tiger_Tiger_Burning_Bright [it is apparently based on films i’ve never heard of - The Philadelphia Story / High Society - which does not make it any less entertaining. malec are childhood friends, who had a falling out 5 years ago, and now Magnus is back from London to interrupt Lightwood wedding, aka the social event of the season]

Making my way to you by @asharee_arie [woah, what was that??? is the correct answer “a perfect fanfic”?? what a muthafuckin delight, where has this gem been hiding this whole time??? i was on the floor, rolling around and squealing like a newborn piglet. Intended as some kind of Office AU, this piece does not necessarily follow the outline, but who cares, when the story, and characters, and author’s style are all that perf??? i am in luv]

Mistletoe and Margaritas by @nevermetawolf [this is legendary, and i mean, muthafuckin epic - Office AU so authentic you’d feel it in yo old bones... author calls it a crack fic, although it was anything but!!! major must read for those, who’s ever loved office, allllllll the kudos]

Once Upon a Time in the Clouds by @Fatale (femme) [one of my all-time fav authors, every time i come by a piece i have not read yet, is like a huge YAY, what a talent. so this piece is an AU of something called “sky high”, which i have no idea about, but luved it nevertheless, Alec is born to a family of Supers, and is going to school for children with superpowers, but he himself is yet to manifest any.]

Quite Magical by @lorenzobane [Hogwarts AU, and what an adorable thing it was! granted, i’ve never actually read any of HP books, this was such a delight though... alec is bad at potions, and magnus has to tutor him *wink*]

Chef AU

the way to a chef’s heart by @lecrit [okay, the GIANT SMILE one’s face acquires when one finds out there is a new lecrit fic ≧◠‿◠≦ ≧◠‿◠≦ ≧◠‿◠≦ was reading it, and legitimately squealing like a feral piglet all the way through, cause i fucking luv every single word this woman writes, is like a tiny endorphin explosions in my brain. i know am a hopeless fangirl, but i’ll die on this hill. the way she gets malec, and every variation of them in her works just makes me go (❁´◡`❁) every. single. time.]

kids in the kitchen by @perpetual_journey [cuteness personified, malec are both chefs, and magnus is a single father of max and rafe, and go and read ittttttttt, its that soft content we all need in our lives sometimes]

Knives at the Ready by @harrysglasses [restaurant AU, that is supposed to be a malec rendition of Burnt (am guessing it’s a movie...?), and what a sweet treat it was! i liked author’s style, this is the kind of smooth, unproblematic content one would require to take repose from all the heart-clenching longing i’ve been reading lately... delightful piece to ease thy soul]

Single Parent AU

I Knew From the First Time by @KlaineJane [emmm, excuse you, dear author, who gave you the right to use Rafe and Max to get to my heart, and be generally so fucking cute??? Alec is a single dad of both rascals, that has a meeting with the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and Chairman meets new friends]

And Then I Met You by @everydayfandom [malec are single parents of max and rafe respectively, and alec gets called in to school about the accident max was involved in...who doesn’t luv them some gud ol’ sweet piece of kidfic? those are like a soothing baths for your soul, and lightwood-bane kids are incapable of being anything less than extremely adorable in any interpretation, so]

College AU

Don’t say goodnight by @alistoney [this the kinda lighthearted content i am always here for - College AU]

One year and a bottle of whiskey by @CryptidBane [yassssss, yet another version of the College AU, but with malec as both clueless and pining professors, this type of fic i can read endlessly]

All is Fair in Love and War by @LadyOxymoron [aaaaaaaa, what was this adorableness *major heart-eyes* what a piece, mashallah, college professors AU, where magnus is new in town, and malec is engaging in an elaborate prank war, which, undoubtedly, is nothing more than a prolonged foreplay (c), what a gem]

Canon Divergence

oh, i’ve waited for you by @manticoremoons [so, the fic is happening a little bit further in a timeline, than the books or the series, and Alec is around 30, and... married to Lydia. i know, i know, it almost stopped me from proceeding, and boi am i glad it hasn’t completely, cause it is a damn good piece!]

Hey There Demons, It’s Me (Your Dream Boyfriend) by @thealmostrhetoricalquestion [how many recs of this author can i make, without being deemed obsessed? cause y’all should go and read every single thing they wrote, stat. this adorableness is outta this world, literally - magnus’ summoning went sideways, and the loft ends up populated with the teenage ghost-demon, who is very clearly enamored with alexander... all kinds of fluff ensue]

Something Else verse by @CryptidBane (Impetus) [maybe it’s my fever talking, but i am such a sucker for memory loss AUs, and SH fandom has the richest canon base for those, yay! this time, it’s an AU verse after 3x10: rather than asking for his magic, Asmodeus curses magnus by taking away memories from everyone who’s ever loved him, in exchange for freeing jace from lilith’s thrall... oh, what a beautiful and delicious angst ensues]

Home by @otppurefuckingmagic [waaaaaaaaat... *sits with her mouth open* how did you....? how did he...? damnnnnnnnnn you authors in this fandom, stop being so talented!!!! this is uncannily brilliant]

I’ll hold on until you’re home by @alistoney [how dare you sir, right in the feels... the missing scene in the midst of 3x18/3x19, when magnus realizes what his idiot of a boyfriend has done, and confronts him about the Asmodeus deal]

First time for everything by @nebulein [“Nowhere in a Shadowhunters’ job description does it read ‘must look adorable while infatuated with the local High Warlock’.” - series of firsts written with such tenderness and adoration for characters, that it warms your heart while reading, - it shows how much the author cares for them. it is not finished, but whatever has already been written, is gold]

Fake dating AU

The Great Repression by @CryptidBane (Impetus) [although it might not be exactly my regular cup of tea, i still appreciate this author’s style so damn much, and the way they do malec dynamic overall, so it’s here. magnus is a camboy, and alec is hired to protect him from a stalker]

Friends to lovers

Family is Family by @hexicity [my brains are fried by the covid, so any coherent rec would be unlikely right about now, but the softness of this <333 alec sees an ad about a free room, and when he moves in, he finds way more, than he bargained for... gave me a bit of a “happy, shiny people everywhere” vibe, and that’s an automatic rec in my books, so]

Spinning Around In Circles by @lemonoclefox [my fav friends to lovers/mutual pining trope, here you are, and what a pretty pretty wrapper are you wearing - absolutely amazing interpretation of a trope, that seems to has been done to death, and yet here i am, never able to get enough of it <3]

If it walks like a duck by @thealmostrhetoricalquestion [this. i was reading this. and after every single word. all i wanted to do was get down on one knee and propose to this person. i dunno who the hell you is, but.... how did you do this? it was... another level of fanfiction.]

Neighbors AU

Meow 17:1 Love Thy Neighbor by @high-warlock-of-brooklyn [again, not a fan of drabbles, but who could resist such softness??? Neighbors AU, where Chairman takes some lessons he learnt from “Parent trap” to heart, and alec is a stumbling mess, but he gets shit done, kudossssssss]

Various AU mix

Solid courage by @thealmostrhetoricalquestion [how goddamn CUTE was dat???? answer - the cutest. mashallah people in this fandom can write]

Paper Love by @thealmostrhetoricalquestion [it would not be an exaggeration to admit i thoroughly fell in love with this author’s style, i mean, all and every version of their malec is all kinds of awesome. this one is no exception - catarina works in the library, and malec have to take madzie out to a coffee shop, cause their obnoxious flirting is too loud for the quaint environment of catarina’s workplace.... it’s tiny and so so sooooooo sweet]

make no bones by @ohfreckle [yaaaaaaaaay, what a cutie, tiny preciousness about magnus having an awful day and taking it out on a no-good useless building super, simply delightful]

Freud is a Dick by @sanctuary_for_all [Alec works in IT firm, and accidentally sends someone else’s dick pick to his boss, whom he has a crush on... do i need to say more]

shadows in moonlight by @kaeg [damnnnnnn, son, that was a ride!! something exquisitely soulful, tender and so, so poetic... young malec meet in summer vacation home, and it will take your breath away in the best way possible... warning, it is unfinished, but whatever was written, is absolute preciousness]

For the Love of the Game by @TicklemyPickle [Hockey AU, where malec were childhood friends, but had a falling out, and were not in touch for the last 7 years, until magnus gets traded in to alec’s team... i was somewhat unsure about reccing this, as some of the choices author made regarding their dynamic did not exactly resonate with me, but decided to go on, because, god as my witness, one thing this world definitely needs more of - is malec Hockey AUs, word upppp]

Love Is A Gamble by @la-muerta [i myself do not completely understand, why has it taken me so long to get to the “The importance of elsewhere” author’s most famous piece, but i finally have, it was amazeballs, like, the world-building...? off the charts. the language, the moral struggle, what a gem. alec is a grumpy and surely sheriff *duh!!!* of a tiny town, and magnus strolls in being all... well, magnus-y, and opens a gambling house, the potential!!! anyway, i highly doubt this piece needs recs, so imma zip it]

@ohprongs [this author has too many tiny pieces i like to name them individually, but as far as reccing goes, they should def be mentioned here for their effortless, seamless style, and clear love for the characters in all interpretations, that simply shines through all and any AUs they choose to put malec in]

special mention:

@theleftboobgrabber [i wasn’t aware that at this stage it was still possible to come by someone like this. the author, who’s style would impress me so. that unbelievably glorious Mafia AU, absolutely delightful and literally perfect My mama don’t like you series, and something that went straight to my top-5 - MI6 AU ohhhhh, that MI6 AU... i have no coherent words to express the depths of my appreciation, this is unbelievable fucking talent for writing malec]

[boneswriteswords]

And I'm not good giving ideas or prompts but mmmmmmmmm.... First kisses for Raphael or Leonardo and it's their s/o the one who initiated it???

A/N: Okay so I tried to keep it short but apparently I can’t do that. Thank you nonnie for sending this in. I appreciate it.

I picked Raph because I haven’t written for him in a while. 

Unbeta-d and probably horrible because I did not beta this and writing was more of a stream of conscious sort of thing so read at your own risk.

~~~~

It was a regular night.

Briefing for patrol. Patrol. Stopping a couple bad guys. Finishing patrol. Arguing with Leo over some stupid nitpicky thing. Stopping in to see Y/N as she closed up shop at 2am. Taking her home - part of the way on the tops of buildings with her tucked safely against him and the rest on the sidewalk below with her beside him. They had done this same routine for over a year, the night the same as the hundreds that came before it. He took the same path to her place so often that he is surprised that he can’t see his footprints embedded into the concrete.

And yet, tonight, something felt off. He couldn’t put his finger on it but there was something in the line of her shoulders and downward tilt of her mouth that concerned him, tension curling in his shoulders. Something has changed, if not their routine.

At first, he thinks that maybe it's because he is off. He thinks of the static building inside of him that makes every touch between them - every tiny brush of her fingers as she grips onto him, every bump of her shoulder as they walk - feel like lightning is hitting him. The touches linger for long minutes after they’ve ended.

She is lodged under his skin, a simmer wil-o-wisp flickering as it jumps from vein to vein. 

And he is scared that she knows. 

That she somehow found out about the thoughts that turn him over in his bed, wound up and unable to sleep. The thoughts that he spends most of his waking life trying to ignore because the suffocating sort of hope that he is prone to feeling is distracting and he doesn’t think he could stomach talking to Splinter about his inability to focus. 

If he was alone, he’d allow himself a few moments of self-pity, complaining about the cards he was dealt in this life and his inability to turn them around in his favor. He’d curse his form, his differences. He’d mourn for the life he never got to live. 

But he wasn’t alone. Y/N was with him, walking less than a foot away from him but still a hundred miles in the distance. She was smiling now though, the faintest upturn of colored lips, and he ached. 

“You alright?” he asked before he could stop himself, “You’ve been quiet all night. I was expecting the next installment of “Why wont my manager fire Nathan?”

She laughs and the sound rings through him. The blocks are quickly disappearing under their feet.

“Just thinking is all,” she responds, nudging him with her shoulder. He nudges back.’

“About what?”

“How to get Nathan fired,” she jokes, leaning into him and he can tell she is back in the present  completely. Her grin is brighter and he can’t help but grin back. He knew she was lying. Something was weighing on her heavily but he knew she wouldn’t talk about it until she was ready. 

The light from the street lamps cling to the line of her jaw, down the hollow of her throat, to rest on the edges of her collarbones. He wonders what it would be like to touch it. Would the light cling to him too? Or would it run from him?

He chooses not to respond but she nudges him again, adjusting her walk so she is touching him as much as she can while they walk, gravitating around him. His skin still feels electrified and he doesn’t want the sensation to stop. His brain is screaming at him to do the smart thing and take a step away from her, pull away so the static stops but his body disobeys. The hope valiantly tries to claw its way to the surface and he attempts to bury it in the hollow of his chest again. 

The silence that falls between them feels significant.

It feels like its building.

It feels like it's waiting for them to do something about it, taunting them with its weight. 

He knows she feels it too.

So he takes a breath, swallowing in an attempt to say Y/N’s name again, but before he can, she stops. He almost stumbles forward with the abruptness of her pause, only just realizing that they’ve made it to their destination.

His hope deflates like a balloon that hasn’t been tied off. Raph wasn’t a believer of fate, not in the way Donnie or Leo are, or in pre-established choices, like Mikey, but there is a sense that he’s missed a chance he will never have again. He keeps the disappointment off his face, the collapse can consume him later. 

He wouldn’t let her see that. 

Y/N swings her hand a little, her fingertips brushing the outside of her hands in the sweetest of touches. 

It feels like a snapped wire against his skin, sparking dangerously.

“It was a nice night. I had fun,” she says quietly and it sends a cacophony of thoughts through his head. It’s not something she would normally say to him when he took her home. It's not part of the routine. This part usually consisted of a smile, a hug, some variation of ‘good night,’ and him watching her enter the building  before climbing up to make sure she got inside her apartment. 

This is different. 

It also didn’t make any sense. 

“Yeah?” he answers once it becomes clear she is waiting for a response from him, “I -uh….”

“Yeah,” she interrupts, her eyes darting to meet his eye for a brief moment, “I always have fun with you.’

It feels like he swallowed his tongue. He tries to make his body move but it’s frozen. He can feel his heart stutter and pound and the blood rush from one place to the next and he can’t focus-

She pulls away, the smile still on her face, and starts up the stairs. He says something back but he isn’t sure what. It sounded garbled and distorted and he is fine with leaving it a mystery because he’d rather devote the brain power to watching her walk up the stairs. He didn’t have to justify why to anyone but if he did, he’d say he just wanted to make sure she got in the building ok. The stairs were a bit crooked too. She could trip and fall.

Yeah it sounds like bullshit in his head too but he knew the whole “I can’t bring myself to move because I’m too much a love-struck fool to move.”

Y/N pauses by the entrance, keys in hand - he can see them glittering, catching the light from the doorway. He’ll continue on the routine as normal and try to convince himself that nothing about tonight was anything different than all the others on the way home. He’ll put it out of his mind as best he can until tomorrow night, when he picks her up from work again. 

She remains still for a few moments, head bowed and he wishes he could see her face. He wants to know why she’s stopped. He wants to know why tonight feels so different. He wants to know why it feels like he’s going to collapse and reform in the middle of a New York street. The longer she pauses, the more it feels like the sidewalk has consumed his feet. He is rooted down, no longer in control of his body. 

He watches as she turns around, keys back in her pocket, and comes back down the steps, faster than when she went up them and it feels like all the air has disappeared from his lungs. 

So, when she’s back by his side, hand reaching up to tug him down to her level, whispering “Please?”, all he can do is nod. He’s wide-eyed when he feels her lips on his, the hope inside of him crashing against his insides in victory and relief as her hands come to land on his cheeks.

He leans into it completely, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her bodily against him and tilting his head to deepen the kiss until there are colors flashing beneath his eyelids. Her lips are soft and smell like vanilla and he chases the taste of her, running his tongue along her lips until she lets him in. She sighs against his mouth and it almost knocks him to his knees. 

A small eternity later and she pulls away, looking small and awestruck and a bit dazed. She has the same look she gets when she gets stuck in a sentence because she can’t think of the right word. He’s smitten. 

“I wish I had done that sooner,” she says, voice nothing more than a wisp, moving her hands over his cheeks and down his neck, the static crackling as she does. Her eyes are roaming all over his face, looking for any sign that she overstepped. He could see the thoughts swirling behind her eyes, the perceived consequences of her boldness weighing sullen and heavy. 

“Me too,” he rasps, tugging her back into another kiss before she could doubt herself. 

By the time she makes it to her apartment, he’s lost count of how many times they’ve fallen back into each other, murmuring that they need to stop. Parting seemed to hurt her as much as it did him and her reluctance to let him go sent him into a fit of giddiness. He’s grinning as he watches her enter her apartment and slide down the door, her fingers pressed to her lips as she giggles.

Tonight was strange, he decides as he climbs up to the roof and jumps to the next building. There is new energy in his body. 

But it's safe to say that this break in routine was the best thing that ever happened to him. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow. 

~~~~

End

~~~~

[rugsblogs]

What to Contemplate Prior to Purchasing a Rug On the internet Or Instore

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Nonetheless it does have inadequate resilient properties and therefore is susceptible to crushing. Keep away from high pile heights with minimal-density construction. These items have a tendency to flatten and out. Also appear for high twist stages rather than "blown" yarns. Free twists (blown yarn) tend to untwist and the yarn ideas tend to fuse jointly making a matted appearance. Most shoppers like to dig their fingers into the pile and if it supplies a luxurious really feel (hand) they imagine this is superb good quality. This is referred to as "perceived" top quality. Correct high quality exists when it is hard to insert your fingers into the pile. This is a correct test for all rug constructions, but it is a necessity for some Polyester Shag Rugs. 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[violetsmoak]

Congrats on passing 200 followers! As for prompts, I’ve always been curious on what your take on a “Jason and Tim meet as kids (and eventually fall in love)” story would be like. Your writing has always brought me so much joy, so thank you for all that you do and share with us!

Summary: In which Jason’s instincts and Tim’s panic response are a little bit off. 

Pairing: JayTim

Rating: PG

Author’s Note: Well, I don’t have my own headcanon for this because so many writers before me have done it so well, but I hopefully this fulfils your expectations! 

 This takes place at the end of Jason’s run as Robin. Jason is 15 and Tim is 12. 

________________________________________________________________

Jason is being watched.

He knows this with the certainty of a kid who grew up on the street, and one who has worn the mantle of Robin for three years now. It’s pretty much impossible for him not to notice the sensation of eyes scrutinizing, and he’s been feeling variations of that for two weeks now.

And today I’m finally going to do something about it…

Gotham Public Library has provided him a manner of safe haven these past few months, when it’s too tense to go back to the manor and all of Bruce’s bullshit, and when he’d rather not spend another minute at school. He’s been letting himself get lost in his homework assignments and the occasional novel after school, and it’s close to peaceful.

Until the staring began.

To be fair, the kid doing it is trying not to be too obvious about it; he watches from out of the corner of his eyes and doesn’t let his attention linger for longer than a few seconds lest it become noticeable.

But there’s just something about that attention that sticks with Jason; it’s getting to the point where he imagines he feels it when he goes out on patrol, too.

More confounding is the kid’s knack for disappearing before Jason can get up the momentum to confront him. One-minute Jason will be surveying him, then he’ll look down to his book and back, and the kid will be gone.

It’s like he takes lessons from Batman when it comes to exits.

Jason doesn’t know anything about him, beyond the immediate facts: pale, black hair and very, very blue eyes. He’s young, the roundness of his face suggesting he’s younger than Jason, but he’s about two inches taller. Athletic, but in an understated way, his weight class far beneath Jason’s own in muscle alone.

The kid comes to the library alone, no friends of parents in sight. He wears clothes that are meant to look casual, but the brands are the same designer ones that Alfred purchases for Jason, meaning he’s got money. Sometimes he wears glasses—on those days Jason notices the staring more, as if the boy thinks having his eyes framed behind glass makes his interest less pervasive.

He’s also familiar in a way that Jason can’t place. If he didn’t know that no crook in Gotham would be so desperate as to employ a shrimp like this kid as anything other than maybe a drug runner, he’d figure he was under someone’s surveillance.

(His clothes are too nice, and those strange eyes not haunted enough to be a child of the streets like Jason.)

He always has a bunch of books he’s flipping through, or a tablet he’s working on; homework, from the look of the textbooks, but Jason’s caught sight of his reading selection on the Returns cart before leaving: digital photography, Zombie Survival Guide, histories of World War II codebreakers and varied biographies with no underlying theme.

It’s hard not to tap into all that Robin training to find out who his little stalker is; but he’s not paranoid, like Bruce, and there are more direct ways of doing it.

“So, the whole watchin’ me thing,” he says one day apropos of nothing and sits in a chair opposite the kid; this earns him a look that epitomizes ‘deer in the headlights’. “You got some kind of beef with me, or what?”

“What?” the boy squeaks.

“Every day the past two weeks, you sit at this table and pretend like you’re not starin’ at me—don’t say you don’t,” he adds when the kid opens his mouth to protest. “I know when I’m bein’ watched. Hazards of growin’ up in Crime Alley. So what do you want?”

He tries to come off as easy-going and joking, but with just the right edge of “if you’re fucking with me, I’ll end you” that Jason Wayne, adopted son of Brucie Wayne and former street kid would be expected to have. No point in breaking out the Robin voice or whup-ass.

“I—I was just—I wasn’t—you’re just—” the kid stammers, clearly having trouble formulating a response. Jason almost feels bad, but his suspicion about why he’s being watched by another kid with such intensity outweighs that.

He opens his mouth to remind the kid to breathe, when suddenly,

“Cute!” the boy blurts out, too loud for the library and earning a few irritated shh! noises from the study nooks in the corner. Jason barely hears those, his own brain trying to parse what the kid just said. “I mean, you. Are. Cute—I think you’re cute.”

And then his eyes bulge, and his cheeks darken, and he looks abruptly furious with himself.

Jason’s own cheeks begin to flame, his jaw-dropping a little in surprise.

Whatever I was expecting, that was not it.

He’s never been hit on by a guy before.

Well, not a guy in his own age bracket. He’s had plenty of come-ons from older, and often drunker, creeps.

“I’m sorry,” the poor kid gasps, and he’s snatching at his things, practically vibrating like he wants to rip out of his own skin in an effort to vanish. “I don’t know…shouldn’t have said that. Sorry, I’m just…”

The kid looks so ashamed that Jason instantly feels bad.

He’s not entirely sure how he feels about having a boy like him; the only attention he’s ever gotten like that has been from the opposite sex, and even that’s sparse. The only kids he comes in contact in his line of work is on his occasional trips with the Titans, and even they’re all older than him. Other than his first and only girlfriend, Rena—who had to leave Gotham when her dad got transferred to Star City—the girls at Jason’s school only show an interest in him when they think he might buy them things.

But, he’s also Robin.

And Robin’s supposed to inspire confidence in people. If there’s something about him—even just as regular civilian Jason Todd—seems approachable to this kid, then he’s got to be careful how he handles it.

Besides, he can’t help feeling a little bit flattered.

It takes him a moment to think of something that might ease some of the tension from the situation.

“Pizza,” he offers.

That makes the other boy freeze and stare at him. “What?”

That earns more shushing, and so Jason makes sure to keep his voice pitched low the next time he speaks.

“There’s a pizza place down the block from the library,” he says. “You can design your own with whatever toppings. I think they do vegan stuff, too. If that’s a thing you… Do you want to maybe…go there? And talk?”

He cringes inwardly.

Did that sound as lame to him as it did to me?

He always thought asking out a girl was hard to do, but he’s never given any thought to how it might feel with a guy.

Said guy’s jaw does drop at this, as if this too, is the last thing he expected.

“You don’t have to,” he rushes to say. “I mean…what I said before. It just—you surprised me, is all. And I—I should go.”

Almost before Jason can register, he’s completely packed up and across the library like he’s got Kid Flash on his trail.

Worried the kid might accidentally run into traffic in his haste, Jason hurries after him.

He finds him outside the stairs of the library, the contents of his rashly collected belongings spilled over the steps and muttering angrily at himself.

Without a second thought, Jason stoops down beside him and picks up the nearest notebook, holding it out to him. “Sorry if I freaked you out.”

“Don’t be—I’m clearly the one who fails at human interaction.”

“I’m Jason,” he offers.

“I know,” is the instant reply.

Jason’s soothing mood vanishes within the next second, once more replaced with cool suspicion as he straightens up. “Yeah? And how do you know that?”

The boy’s face whips up toward him and he makes an almost strangled sound, like he’s trying to choke himself from the inside.

“I don’t mean that like it sounded,” he rushes to say. “I’ve seen you before, is all. At Wayne events. My parents always get invited, and sometimes they make me come along, and…” He trails off, forces himself to breathe, and then offers Jason a wan smile and his hand. Surprisingly, for all his discomfort before, it doesn’t shake. “Hi. I’m Tim Drake.”

“Right,” Jason says slowly, accepting the hand warily.

Kid’s got a strong grip for someone so spindly.

That’s when it clicks for Jason, why the kid looks so familiar.

He has seen him before, hanging out with the other rich kids that always seem to flock together and circle the wagons at these things. Unlike them, he’s always seemed to be as uncomfortable at the parties as Jason was, and spent more time trailing behind his parents and shaking hands with people than with the kids his own age.

Maybe if I wasn’t spending so much time trying to figure out how to get out of those things early, we might have actually talked.

The explanation answers one question Jason had, but not the other.

“So, you’ve seen me at parties, and that made you decide to…what? Stalk me at the library?”

“No! No, I wasn’t—I happened to be in the library one day when you came in, and after that I just…kept…coming back,” Tim trails off, as if realizing he’s not making his case any better. He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in a way Jason’s only ever seen Bruce do when he or Dick say or do something he can’t rationalize. “Look, it might come as a shock to you, but I’m not great with people. And you’re…” He gestures at Jason like that explains everything, “you.”

Clearly articulation isn’t a strong point, although Jason’s not sure if that’s an inborn characteristic or if Tim really is that flustered by him.

He kind of, really wants to find out.

Jason rubs at the back of his neck, trying to figure out what exactly he’s supposed to say to that, and then decides for both their sakes, he’ll let it slide. Instead, he says, “So, does that mean you’re in?”

Tim is taken off-guard. “Huh?”

“Pizza,” Jason repeats slowly. He jerks his thumb in the direction of the pizza parlor. “That way.”

That earns a stare, and then Tim’s blushing again. “I was serious before, you don’t have to—”

“Don’t tell me you’re not hungry. You look like you haven’t eaten since ever.”

“I have a fast metabolism.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I do!”

“Whatever. Consider it my civic duty as the son of a billionaire philanthropist,” Jason replies with a roll of the eyes. “The getting you fed part. You’re paying for it yourself, since now I know you have money.”

“But—I—what?”

“That’s how it works, isn’t it?” Jason says. “Go for a first date, then decide if you want to actually date or just be friends? I’m not sure, is it the same thing with guys as girls? Either way, I think it works out for both of us.” 

When Tim continues to look at him, uncomprehending, Jason wonders if somehow he’s completely misread the situation. 

“Unless I really did mess you up before and you just said that thing about me for shits and giggles.” Which is kind of a letdown, he realizes, and discovers he really doesn’t want Tim to have some kind of ulterior motive. There’s too much of that kind of thing in his life already. “Though…that still leaves the question about what you thought was so fascinating about this ugly mug.”

He’s barely finished the sentence, but Tim is blurting, “That was it.”

Jason raises an eyebrow.

“I mean,” Tim says, clearing his throat. “You’re not ugly. And yes to pizza. There is no world where the answer to pizza is ever ‘no’.”

“Barring parallel worlds,” Jason offers.

“Barring those,” Tim agrees and swings his backpack over his shoulder. He shifts, a little awkward. “So, where is this place?”

“Just down this way. We should hurry if you don’t want to get stuck in the supper rush,” Jason says, unable to stop the grin breaking out on his face. They start down the street together, but Jason pauses. “Before we go, just one more question.”

Tim tenses. “…Yes?”

“You’re not one of those weirdos that puts pineapple on pizza, are you? Because, I mean, the stalking thing I could probably forgive, but that��”

“Please, do I look like a heathen? The only thing that touches my pizza is Canadian bacon, onions and artichoke hearts.” 

 The other boy adopts a scandalized expression; it’s the first one that has nothing to do with outright panic, and for that, Jason is glad. 

He makes a face at the odd combination, and then shrugs. “Weird. Then again, I’ll try anything once, so why not?”

________________________________________________________________

Yes, Tim is taller than Jason here. Because poor Jay is still malnourished and Timmy had a relatively healthy upbringing. I’d say Jay is 4′6″ here (which is canon for before he died) and Tim’s about 4′8″. Because there’s not enough tiny Jason fics in the world. :P

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of any emojis you want and let me know how you feel!

~V

[evilhorses]

Question time! I love the jobs everyone has in the Single Dad AU, but does that mean none of them were ever in CP9, or were they but have all since left/defected/etc? If they were never members, how did the crew all meet? (And do you think any of them act particularly different having not been raised as assassins?)

Oof ok so how my brain works is it actually makes a million little au variations BUT for sanity sake the jobs hcs are for the timeline where Yes! Noone was in cp9!

So in this universe CP9 is "still a thing" but it's an entirely different group of people. I'm not focusing on them though and don't have any plans to even think of what they look like or what they can do so don't expect that anytime soon. This AU is purely focusing on the original group but in a more fun slice of life kind of way! With a little angst here and there maybe, I'm using it mainly as a comfort tool and things may or may not change later but for now it's just a nice family au~

(I do have AUs where they are in CP9 and defect but I'm not ready to share those yet, haven't found a solid plot line e_e)

Ok this is gonna be a long one hhh

As for how they act not being raised as agents?

•Lucci is still very "stoic and grumpy", I hc him as Autistic actually so its more he just has a hard time communicating and doesn't understand social queues sometimes so comes off as rude. Hes very good with kids in this au. He still has his DF powers so he does occasionally get a little bloodlusty? But since he's a more well adjusted human he doesn't actively seek a fight, meets Jabra in the bar and they become rivals (lovingly). Still lucci just less murder. Not sure what his childhood was like yet.

•Kaku is still an orphan but he's mostly just kind of a regular guy? Still talks like an old man though and can still use a couple swords if needed, he just thinks their neat! Also has ADHD out the wazoo

•Jabra does have a more rough background, having been in illegal fighting ring circles but it was just an easy way for him to make money and once he landed his bar job he pretty much stopped, only occasionally going to a fight club when he needs to let out some excess aggression. He also still has his DF because I love my wolf man ❤ good with the kids but in a more fireworks uncle kind of way, stresses tf out of kaku

•Khalifa literally just showed up one day, Noone knows where she came from, the kids love her but she doesn't babysit often. Doesn't make sexual harassment jokes as often but still "teases people with her long legs" -paulie probably. The responsible adult until she's not >:)

•kumadori is still a really weird dude, still thinks his mom is dead for some reason?? She shows up one day and he's very happy to find she's alive, the kids LOVE him because he's so dramatic "he's like a clown!". Still has his staff but more for show

•Fukuro just a big guy, friend shaped. Lives close to Kaku so they run into each other a lot natural friendship happens, is friends with kumadori so that's how he gets introduced to the friend group

•Blueno! I think I forgot about him in the jobs post aaaaaaaaa, he doesn't own the bar!! He owns a butcher shop! I actually got the idea from @/crimekun from some art they did awhile back called trash bags and butchers and I just thinks it's really neat. I love blueno being a butcher more then a bartender because he seems way more like a guy that likes a quiet setting and a bar is so noisy. He has high quality meat so everyone I the group goes to him for shopping, they don't really hang out much because he's more introverted but he does go to an occasional BBQ and becomes the alpha dad.

•spandam knows them because he works at the bank they go to but none of them like him, he sometimes runs into them at like the bar or Cafe but they're never happy to see him, he's still a shitty guy, very entitled. The kids meet him one day when Kaku has to go to the bank, they immediately start crying.

Bonus

•ok so Val....I don't have much posted on her actual story because it's kind of complicated BUT I will say for this au she's far less uhh...traumatized? She worked as a professor back on an island, her family is this like.. big wealthy and highly respected group of professors and knights and just a whole bunch of things. It's weird I'll have to make a separate post for it. But uh yeah she has a lot of money from being this highly respected professor in forensic science. She's very very "eccentric" some would call her. The island she teaches on isn't her home island though 👀

So mostly just people with weird quirks, I do eventually wanna talk about the other AUs I have and might post stuff for them soon, I just have low energy lately and only draw at work atm unfortunately~

[seolhe]

Top 5 of your own OCs, major or minor, any story. :)

Ohhhh, that’s a tough one... I honestly don’t think I can rank them, at least not with any fairness, because it always changes based on whatever I’m in the mood for and whichever story/character I’m currently obsessing with. So I’m just gonna pick 5 in no particular order. Also, just to spice things up a bit and not have them all be characters from Mabysan and A Nest of Vipers, I’m gonna limit myself to 1(!) character per storyverse. Makes things a bit more fair, I think ;) So let’s get the two obvious ones out of the way first: 1. Hadriel - A Nest of Vipers

In all fairness, this spot should have probably gone to Siradin, especially if I consider the history of his character and his origin (his first incarnation, Shian, created back in 2005-2006 was the first queer character I ever created and he was one of the most influential characters of my youth). But you know what, I just feel like going with Hadriel today! More than any of my characters, Hadriel is just shameless, self-indulgant fun. He’s not the most deep or angsty or sad, but he makes me laugh, and I always have fun with him, and don’t we all deserve that in these times? (Also he’s hands down the most fun to draw!) 2. Sabreas - Mabysan

Easy choice. Definitely the one character I obsess about the most atm, along with his twin sister Darya. He is such a messy character, with so many fun angles to explore. There’s all the messy drama with his family (there might be a family curse angle I’ve been playing with lately). There’s also his ongoing identity crisis (the whole eunuch thing alone offers so much to explore in terms of social class and gender, especially when clashing with his royal status). There’s his constant struggle to find his place in the world, his painful longing for home, his wounded pride and futile obsession with vengeance. Once he gets back home we get the whole “stranger in a familiar land” trope which is one of my favourites. I also really enjoy his dynamic with Kharim, it’s just a lot of fun. Also magic! 3. Seline - The Old Ways

Before A Nest of Vipers came along and swept me away, this story and especially this character was what occupied my brain all the time. Seline is another old character, originating in the same storyline as Siradin’s first incarnation, and like him she was reinvented and got a completely new story. Seline is the bastard daughter of a nobleman who eventually marries a prince from a foreign country ending up as a badass warrior queen. The story played a lot on the whole “old religion vs. new religion/pagan way of life oppressed by new, invading culture” trope. At the time I left this story to collect dust with all my other neglected storylines it had become a cumbersome, sprawling beast made up of a lot of barely connected threads and clashing elements as I had changed and added things to it over the years, so if I ever do pick up this story again it’s in need of a pretty drastic revamp. I do still love this character though and she definitely deserves a better story. 4. Camille

Camille doesn’t really belong to any specific storyline or fictional universe, they’re just a rogue character I play with in my head from time to time. Originating in a big supernatural kitchen sink type story I shared with some friends, full of vampires and werewolves and demons and shapeshifters and all types of magic wielders, Camille is the only character that managed to stick around. One of 5 vampire characters from that storyline, they filled the creepy vampire kid slot (I aged them up a bit when I started playing with them on my own). Camille is very old, but that’s about all anyone knows of their origin. They change names and presentation on a fairly regular basis, doesn’t seem particularly attached to any one place in the world, is fluent in a long list of languages, ancient and modern, and have a tendency to make up different, elaborate backstories whenever someone asks. Even I don’t know their real backstory. 5. Lorraine - That one rpg an acquaintance and I pick up every few years

There’s something to be said for a story you keep coming back to over and over again for more than a decade, and that’s the case with Lorraine here. Every variation of her story is more or less the same, with some slight variation. She’s the strong-willed daughter of a wealthy businessman in Victorian England, she’s engaged to someone but doesn’t want to get married, she starts having an affair with her fiancé’s bodyguard/hitman/friend named Edward, murder and smut ensues. I don’t really have a lot to say about her honestly. I think the last time we picked up and played with these character was in like... 2016-2017, so I haven’t been thinking about them for quite a while. -------------------------------- Thank you so much for asking! I had a really fun time digging through some of my older stories and characters that I haven’t really thought about for a long time! ♥