#also someone along the line put my number out there as i was applying for health insurance and now im constantly getting spam calls :)))

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Forgive me Peter, my lost fearless leader In closets like cedar, preserved from when we were just kids Is it something I did?

This sounds like a person she'd written about reverently, capturing the memories from their youth and put away for safekeeping, too delicate to be out year-round and exposed to the elements that cause wear and tear.

(I know people have opinions on who the songs are about and everything, I'm just offering an interpretation.)

Putting under a cut for those who don't care for muse talk which I've generally tried to avoid on main lately for reasons

That could obviously be applied to any number of muses we know about, but it to me, put this way, it strikes me that that sounds like how Joe figured in her music over the years.

Joe entered her discography as an honourable man, the one who was high above the whole scene, who stood by her and liked her for her, her port in the storm and the bright spot in a very dark time in her life. And those memories are now recorded for all time in her music. Their coming of age has come and gone and their youth is preserved forever in albums like reputation and Lover.

But, just like that wool sweater you put away after winter or the wedding dress you can't part with, those memories had to be delicately cared for, put away in the cedar closet to prevent moths from chewing through and the fabric from disintegrating. Or, in other words, what's saved in the music are moments of time, the dreams spun under a set of circumstances that couldn't last yearlong.

And what also couldn't brave the elements was the painting she created of their relationship. The man who was her guiding light in a storm withered away to one who resented her and lost his way in their relationship. She once looked to him to help orient herself and their life together, but somewhere along the way their ships found different paths. Perhaps as though someone who once stood by their convictions as a guiding force somehow retreated into themselves and their demons.

The "is it something I did?" always kind of gets me, because it's the "what if/what happened?" questioning of herself that's found in so many other songs. (Namely to me, How Did It End?) What is she wondering? Is it something she did that caused him to lose his way? Is it something she did that made him never meet her where she was? Was there something she could have done to hold on longer, or make the candle burn brighter? There's so much said in so little and you can feel the sorrow seep through even in just a few lines.

I'm fully aware that the song can be interpreted in so many other ways about other muses so I'm not saying I'm right by any means. (For instance, I know it's also interpreted to be about a long-lost love which applies to... someone else. Which is fair!) It's just how the song struck me! And now I've said my piece and am ready to slink back into a muse-free zone lol.

[blkgirlsreadfanfic2]

CHAPTER ONE: The Vanishing of Will Byers

series masterlist chapter warnings: potentially inaccurate 80s references steve harrington x sinclair!oc

“Thanks, doll.” Jaz said, handing the pre-pubescent pizza boy a $20 bill.

“No problem.” He replied, walking back to his bike.

Jasmine Sinclair closed the door to her parents’ home in Hawkins, Indiana. 15-years-old and the oldest child of Charles and Sue Sinclair, Jasmine (or “Jaz”), carried herself with confidence. Her brown curly hair was pulled into a pineapple updo, and her tattered AC/DC shirt fell loosely over her shoulder. It was a Tuesday night, and while her brother Lucas was playing D&D at Mike Wheeler’s house, she was hosting band practice with two of her best friends, Amelia Rose and Katherine Brown.

“Was he cute?” a voice called from the kitchen.

Jasmine rolled her eyes as she set the pepperoni pizza down on the counter. The voice belonged to Amelia (or “Lia”); Lia’s orange hair glowed in the pale-yellow light of the Sinclair kitchen. Her hazel eyes gleamed with mischief and 12 freckles were grouped along her nose and cheeks.

“He was like 13, Lia. Way too young for you.”

“Hey, I was asking for Kat.” Lia defended.

“If he’s 13 then he’s definitely too young for me.” Kat said.

Katherine Brown was the oldest of the trio, a junior in high school and the unofficial leader. She popped open a Coke bottle on the kitchen counter, her perfectly manicured nails catching in the light. She had wavy black hair that came down to her shoulders and jet black eyes that often seemed to gaze into the depths of your very soul. It was fitting, she was also the most observant of the group.

The three girls had met during Lia and Jaz’s freshman year and Kat’s sophomore year. The three of them tried out for the school’s band but were told that their instruments were not needed. Frustrated over their rejection, the trio decided to start their own rock band. They named it the Bikini Roses which, in retrospect, probably wasn’t the best name they could have come up with. However, they had become attached to the name and used it when applying for gigs at the few clubs that would allow them in. Band practices were frequent in the beginning of the school year; the time where the summer air still lingered and teachers were more concerned with get-to-know you questions than whether or not your paper followed MLA format.

Jaz grabbed a paper plate from the stack and grabbed a slice of pizza, sitting on the stool next to Lia.

“Hey, what time was Lucas supposed to be home?” Kat asked.

“Like an hour ago. He never finishes on time though, I’ll call in the next 30 minutes.” Jaz answered.

In reality, Jaz would have been happier if Lucas just slept at Mike’s. She loved her little brother with all her heart, but his D&D nights meant she could have longer band practices with Lia and Kat. Erica was a heavy sleeper, so she was never bothered by the loud sounds of drums smashing in the garage. The band was Jaz’s ticket out of Hawkins for good, and the better they sounded, the better their chances of being famous.

“We should probably get going, Kat. My mom wants me home early tonight.” Lia said.

Kat nods and chugs the last of her Coke, placing the bottle down on the counter and wiping her mouth off. Kat and Lia finished their slices of pizza and exchanged hugs with Jaz. Once she head Kat’s car pull out of the driveway, Jaz made her way over to the phone, dialing the number to the Wheeler’s house. The line rang for a few seconds before Karen Wheeler’s voice was heard through the speaker.

“Wheeler residence.”

“Hey Mrs. Wheeler, it’s Jasmine. Is Lucas still there?” Jaz asked, using her best “talking to someone’s mom” voice.

“Yes, the boys are still downstairs. Do you want me to put him on the phone?”

“No, it’s all right. Can you just tell him that he needs to start making his way home?”

“Of course, Jasmine. Say hello to your mother for me.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Jaz hung up the receiver and began putting the pizza away, making sure the paper plates and napkins were stored properly. She closed the garage, made sure the porch lights were turned on, and grabbed her song book before settling down on the couch and turning the channel to MTV. They were still playing Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” music video. After about 20 minutes of waiting, the front door clicked and Lucas came into the house.

“Hey, Lucas.” Jaz greeted. “There’s pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

“I’m okay.” Lucas told her, grabbing some water from the sink instead.

Jaz knew that Lucas had gone to bed after she heard a clink in the sink and the creak of the stairs as Lucas walked to his room. She got up and turned off the lights inside the house before turning in for the night.

the next morning…

“Jaz! Kat and Lia are here!”

Jaz jumped down the steps two at a time after her mother’s shouts. She kissed her parents on the cheek and jumped in the backseat of Kat’s Toyota Corolla. Lia reached back and handed Jaz a donut, and the trio began the drive to Hawkins High. Once they got there, the three separated and went off to their respective lockers then first period classes. Jaz’s first period was English, one of her favorite classes. Mrs. Jefferson was sweet; she picked interesting books for the class and allowed her students to choose almost any topic for their papers. English was also Jaz’s favorite because it was one of the few times she got to see her best friend - Jonathan Byers.

Jaz and Jonathan met at a thrift store in the city when they were in the eighth grade. With her birthday money in a small green wallet, Jaz wandered between the aisles before finding what she was looking for: cameras. She stared at the assortment of cameras, sticking to the used ones that cost $150 or less. As she was searching, a gangly boy with brown shaggy hair approached her.

“Um…hi.” He said, rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hi?” Jaz answered, unsure of his intentions.

“Are you new? To photography, I mean.”

“Yeah…I don’t know which camera to get.”

He looked at the cameras on the shelf before picking one up and inspecting it.

“This is a Chinon CE4. It’s uh…it’s pretty banged up but it should still work.”

“How much is it?”

The boy checked the tag before handing Jaz the camera. “It’s $120.”

“Cool.” Jax looked at the black-and-silver camera, turning it over in her hands. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jaz and the boy awkwardly stared at each other for a bit before she spoke again.

“What’s your name?”

“Jonathan. What’s yours?”

“Jasmine.”

“Well um…I was gonna go…check out the cassettes section.”

“What are you looking for?”

“The new Phil Collins album.”

“Oh my gosh, I love it! My parents got it for my birthday but on vinyl.”

“Wanna help me look for it?”

Jaz smiled and nodded, following Jonathan to the music section. They looked around for 15 minutes, coming up empty.

“Sorry we didn’t find it, Jonathan.” Jaz apologized, feeling bad for her newfound friend.

“It’s okay, Jasmine. I can come back next month.”

“Well…do you live near Hawkins?” Jaz asked nervously.

“I actually live in Hawkins!” Jonathan answered excitedly.

“You can borrow my vinyl, you just gotta promise to bring it back.”

“Promise.”

Jaz extended her pinky and Jonathan wrapped his around hers. The two of them smiled as Jaz walked to the register and Jonathan walked back to his mother’s car. As the years went by, their shared love of rock music and photography caused them to grow even closer.

As Jaz took her seat, she noticed that Jonathan was missing. Odd…he was always insanely early to English class. Jaz didn’t have a chance to think on it much though; Mrs. Jefferson was about to start class. The rest of school went by in a similar manner. Even in her classes with Kat and Lia, Jaz noticed Jonathan’s absence more and more. He wasn’t a straight-A student, but it wasn’t like him to skip all of his classes - unless something was going on. Once the final bell rang, Jaz made a beeline for Hawkins Middle, searching for her brother. She found him getting on his bike alongside his friends Mike and Dustin. Oddly enough, Will Byers was also missing.

“Lucas!” She called as she rushed across the parking lot.

“Yeah, Jasmine?”

“You seen Will or Jonathan?”

Lucas opens his mouth to give some excuse, but his face gives it all away. Something is wrong.

“Lucas, where’s Will?”

“Will is missing.”

The words bounce around in Jasmine’s head, the weight of them unbearable.

“Go straight home, you hear me?” She tells Lucas, not waiting for him to respond as she runs back to the high school.

She finds Lia in the parking lot, talking to some of the D&D kids by her car.

“Lia! Lia!”

“Yeah Jaz?” She asks, pausing mid-conversation.

Jaz takes a second to catch her breath before continuing. “Can you give me a ride to Jonathan’s?”

“Yeah sure.” Lia turns back to who she was talking to. “I’ll find you at the Hideout later, Eddie.”

“’K.” Eddie Munson replies, shoving his hands into his pockets. “See you around Lia. Bye Jasmine.”

“Bye.” Jaz said. She watches as he walks off, turning back to Lia after he disappeared behind the building.

“You can’t be serious.” Lia scoffs, rolling her eyes at Jaz.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not still harboring a crush on Munson?”

“I never had a crush on him.”

“I saw diary entries that would beg to differ.”

“It’s whatever. He’s like 80.”

“More like 19. Come on, let’s go.”

Jaz rolls her eyes and gets in the passenger seat of the car. Lia starts the car and the two of them begin the drive to the Byers’ house.

later that night…

After arriving at the Byers’ residence, Jonathan and Joyce catch Jaz up on the situation. They tell her how Will had been missing since the night before and how the chief had found his bicycle on the side of the road. After a bit of time, Jaz and Jonathan agreed to get some pizza for dinner. They got in the car and Jonathan began driving.

“So how are you really feeling, J?”

“I dunno…I feel like it’s my fault. I should’ve been there for when he got home; I shouldn’t have taken that extra shift.”

Jaz places a hand on Jonathan’s arm. “It’s not your fault. There’s no way you could have-”

“If Lucas had gone missing that night and you weren’t home, how would you feel?” Jonathan snapped.

Jaz sighed. “Probably the same as you.”

“Exactly.”

Jaz crossed her arms and looked out the window, unsure of how to continue. After a bit of time, she spoke up.

“So…Joyce mentioned a phone call? Are you sure it was Will?”

Jonathan visibly tensed at the question. Backtracking, Jaz said, “We don’t have to talk about it if-”

“No, it’s fine. She said she heard breathing, and she’s sure it was Will.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“Well I didn’t hear it. And how could she know? I mean, it’s just breathing. How does she know Will’s?”

“She’s a mom, Jon. She knows her son’s breathing, the same way she would know your scream or your voice.”

Jonathan goes silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Maybe you’re right. But I don’t know, she just seems…out of it.”

“Well her son is missing. She’s allowed to be a little out of it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Jaz gives him a small smile and places a hand on his knee. “Hey, I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. I made Lia and Kat join the search party.”

“Thanks JJ.”

“Anytime Jon.”

Jonathan grabs Jaz’s hand as he continues driving. It’s moments like these where the pair are grateful for each other. They’ve been there for all the big milestones - good and bad. Jonathan would always have Jasmine, and Jasmine would always have Jonathan. No matter what happens, they’ll always have each other.

i hope you all enjoyed! this is my first time trying to make a series like this, so I hope this worked! - z

[bleedingcoffee42]

Yep, both is good.

But for sure you can't not have feelings about him, because he really is fascinating and very human (his tvpersona and the real guy).

For me he was like an onion. I didn't expect to like him at the beginning (another typical sociopath soldier bot) but then I realized it was a layer he put on himself and it hepled him to do his job and there were more layers and the dude was complexed as hell. Plus as I love the bigass events (Foy, finding that surgeon) but what always got me, were the lil things, like sending Shifty home, holding Chuck's hand or staying for the boys in the army to the end. Or trying and failing to steal Perconte's lighter. Honey....

Lol, Easy was like, ok we thought he was the toughest sonofabitch in the army, in reality he is but also is a weirdo with questionable hobbies and poor social skills, so let's play along to keep his mighty reputation. And then someone says something bad about him and the company is after that folk's blood, because, as you said, he was their Captain (ok, that's may be my headcanon).

Matheson sounds like a dude who would not fit in modern times. While Sparky probably would thrive ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, I'm amazed how well they created him in the show with such small screentime. A big cheer for Matt too, because HOT DAMN, the role of his life.

He is!! And I'm just impressed as hell with the fact he never really said anything to correct any of the information, just rolled with it. Yet he's outraged when two lines are inaccurate about his ex-wife. Even with info from some family and records, interviews, I see so much conflicting info. And going through the BoB boxes I have seen so much gossip about guys they actually like, makes you wonder how much things spiraled with someone who was a ghost story.

I do like that most of the guys who were present for stuff are on the "I'm not giving details, but he did it, but he was still an amazing CO and that's that." It threw Ambrose for a loop because he didn't get how you could have both. Lol.

Matheson's comments were so definitive and weird. 'His problem was WOMEN.' okay? Elaborate. 'he's been married four times'. That's it? That's your problem? It means is it weird he kept tabs on him after the war? I know he ran into/away from him when he spotted him in DC in the 60's. (it's early I hope I'm not getting him mixed up w/someone else.)

I also like how he transitions from writing his full name to 'Sparky' in letters to Dick as their pen pal relationship spirals into 'Dick, you're a pain in the ass'. He's got a nickname for the guy they knew, and uses it. Even to the point of telling them to leave him out of the BoB stuff because they just are going to find someone to play 'Sparky'. Not Ron, who is holding his 'World's best Grandpa' mug and throwing the letter in the mailbox before hanging out with his grandkids.

IDK, a lot of the focus over the years has been 'OMG did he really kill those people' and not 'Sparky, what level of intelligence were you involved in when you were with Battalion?'. You don't just pick some random officer to serve at Spandlau prison. Even if he took language courses to apply for the job. Not when you're hoping he can get some info out of the Russians too. His Hospital admission cards are [Blank] in Fold3, unsearchable by name. Service number on other records not what is on the copies of Docs from the National Archives on the Speirs website. Only that number will land you on his WW2 Hospital cards. Not to throw out conspiracies, but WTF.

[epickiya722]

I think fandom is also a place in which the majority of people who are really passionate and most active abt it are fans that happened to be queer in some way, so logically, there is going to have quite a big amount of people making these M/M and F/F ships in general. But ALL of the things in that post applies perfectly in one way or another.

For context, this is post!!

Yep, agree with you, Anon. In fandoms, the majority of the fans who are passionate are queer. That's not to say that there isn't passionate fans who aren't queer, before anyone acts up on me.

While it's on my mind, the part of that post that stuck out to me the most is this one...

Yeah I don’t really ship but I do write a fair amount of fanfic, and in most franchises working with the female characters is a chore.

You have to do so much of the work yourself, because the canon left them unfinished, with huge gaps or unexplored contradictions that you have to somehow resolve. Every female character you decide to integrate into your fanwork in some major role constitutes an undertaking in her own right as you patch together an understanding of her sufficient to model a consistent set of reactions and priorities &c.

The dudes just get handed to you. Even the ones whose canon is a mess have properly developed character cores.

That you don’t have to unearth and piece together like some sort of volunteer archeologist coming up with theories way more complex than the available artifacts truly support.

I really felt that as someone who has been writing Miruko-centric fics since March 2022. So, I'll be using BNHA as an example here.

I talked about it in another post of mine, but to summarize; writing Miruko in fics have so far been a wild ride. But a fun one because I get to add onto her character. Compared to male characters, the female characters are blank canvas and honestly, to me, that's what gets my attention more because then my imagination had more freedom.

[I would like to apologize because I had no intentions to make this ask this long (pictures are here), let alone one about BNHA, and I do tend to ramble, that is my bad. So I cut it from here.]

If you asked me now which character I find more interesting between... Miruko and Hawks (I don't hate Hawks), I'm going to say Miruko. Not because she's my favorite. Because Hawks does indeed have too much given about him and it puts me off sometimes. With Miruko, I continue to have questions and those questions turn into my thought posts or fics.

She was already a favorite, but over time I appreciate her more because writing her in fics surely helped me explore more of what I can do in my writing as well as her as what she could have been as a character if she gotten a lot more to her in canon.

It also made me realize that even though a lot of the fandom is queer, when it comes to shipping, there's not a lot of love for F/F ships. Again, comes with the fact that a lot of the cast is male and the male characters have a lot more given to them.

Here's the current count! Look, at the number of F/F fics compared to M/M and F/M.

Looking at this makes me think back to that post about how female characters are often treated to be more accessories to male characters than actual characters or something along those lines.

With F/M coming second to M/M, I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of those fics are written with more male focus perspectives and the female characters are treated as tools to push the fic along. Or those Dekubowl fics where Midoriya is shipped with every single female character. *shivers*

Now, not saying M/M and F/M ships are bad, I have ships within those labels I like.

It just makes one think, you know?

I pressed on the Miruko tag and these are the top results I get. [Press to see full image!]

Now watch when I reduce the number for just Miruko-centric fics.

And you wanna know something crazy? I'm just learning this bit of info about myself. I didn't realize I was doing this!

First page of those 38 fics, the majority of them you will see are my own fics. Most of the additional tags and the top two relationship tags are tags that I used. Out of those 38 fics, guess how many are mine? 19 fics... HALF OF THOSE FICS ARE MINE AND I'M JUST LEARNING THIS!!

[estrellami-1]

That is a very cute fic (though all of yours are💜) it’s adorable that you based that off of how you feel I really like the line about not being the first to discover it but getting it to discover it for myself, I’ve been to slam poetry events they are very fun I feel like I read so many beautiful lines in poetry online and they stick with me to the point I think about them often and it kind of puts the author on a pedestal a bit but seeing someone speaking their poetry to you and a crowd of people in person is so vulnerable that it allows you to see them as just a person in a really beautiful way, like yes their work is brilliant but they’re also dealing with things the same way you are and trying their best and filled with emotions it’s a privilege to be able to know them as more than their writing, like it’s a privilege to get to know you like this. I also backpacked around Italy a few years ago and it was the most magical experience, the Acosta valley is so beautiful and I hiked gran paradiso national park which was stunning highly recommend but you’re right the cost of living is already crazy 😅

I write poetry sometimes mostly just as a way to get my feelings out of my head I post them to my tumblr but they don’t do numbers or anything, like probably 8 years ago or so I posted some of them to an old ao3 account but i can’t remember what i had called it for the life of me, I have an idea for a book that I would really like to write one day, it started out as an after Cinderella kind of thing where people expect you to be happy and perfectly fine when you find something good and get out of a bad situation but you’re still going to carry the pain from that bad situation so it was going to be from her perspective and recovering from the trauma she experienced growing up anf learning to live with ptsd but I’ve written bits and pieces of it nothing major but along the way it kind of lost the Cinderella princess aspect of it and just became kind of a combo my story/original character story kind of thing if that makes sense 💜💜💜💜💜

Thank you darling ❤️ I have some poetry on here, I believe… I think it’s the links in the last paragraph on my pinned post. I’ll try and go through them in a moment and make sure 😂

Slam poetry events are SO fun, I love them!!! There’s a book I read in college called “The Poet X” and I HIGHLY recommend it especially if you like spoken word poetry!!! It very very quickly became a favorite of mine, partially just because it’s good (and partially bc it’s a Latina girl lmao) but also partially because I wasn’t aware that type of writing could become a book. I would absolutely LOVE to do something like that one day!

And I know what you mean, about authors and pedestals. I did the same thing too, a few times, with certain authors on here… but then we got to talking and it turns out they’re literally just people?? Which was honestly so fun to find out 😂 there’s a line I wrote for a fic a while ago (Marvel, if you are/were into that) that I think honestly applies perfectly here. “Put those stars in your eyes back in the sky where they belong. I’m not worth all that.” And honestly… it’s true. Putting someone on a pedestal only makes it hurt that much more when they inevitably fall, because we’re all only human and we’re gonna do dumb crap sometimes.

I have… a lot of feelings about that apparently 😂

Can I have your life???? Please???? 😂 Italy sounds SO fun… I was able to go to Hawaii once and that was nice but I don’t even like the beach/ocean! I got stung by a jellyfish!! My favorite memory there was going on a hike!!! 😂 take me to Colorado I swear. My family’s trying to decide where to go on vacation this year (if it actually happens, that is) and my sister LOVES the beach and wants to go, but we’ve gone SO MUCH and my family KNOWS I don’t like the beach and just. Don’t seem to care? Idk. At this point it’s kinda whatever. But I did suggest skiing this winter since we’ve never been 😂

Ooh honestly I’d love to read all of that!!! I LOVE poetry (like honestly it confused the hell out of me how some people just… don’t understand poetry? What??? 😂)(my favorite is Langston Hughes… how about you?) and I would LOVE to read that Cinderella-ish story, that sounds SO interesting!!! And yes lmao I’ve definitely started a story before, added OCs, and it turned into 6 parts (literally, in the case of my Solangelo series “This Love” on ao3 😂)

Two questions this time, if you don’t mind, darling: how old are you? Where do you live?

It’s more than fine if you’re not comfortable sharing either, or if you want to just share a general range; I understand wanting privacy, I’m mostly just trying to ensure you’re above 18, and as for where you live, I’m strictly curious as to the time difference; I’m in Texas, so it’s currently 12:24am. I just know last night (was it last night? 😂) I answered one at like 10 and you were mentioning how tired you were… so either you’re on one of the coasts (I can’t for the life of me figure out which one that would be at the moment 😂) or you’d had an early morning… or you have a decent sleep schedule, unlike me! 😂 my bedtime is routinely around 12-2am, which is why I’m constantly answering these at all hours of the night. 😂 ❤️

[dreamingdarkly22]

So a while back...

I was typing up that rambling description about Cherenkov radiation, and spoke about how I was pretending it was for the benefit of someone out there who might not know about it, but really I was doing it because I wanted to. I alluded to something that I hadn't really intended to talk about, but then, thinking about it I was wondering if I should...

So yeah, here's that thing.

So I'm gonna try to just dive right in, because to be honest this topic is making me anxious as hell. Because well, I don't really know if I have any right to be dealing with it publicly, since I have no idea if it applies to me. Yet.

I might be autistic.

Yeah minefield right? >_< So. Now the longer version. Because that was horribly vague and awkward, I know, sorry. I just wanted to get the subject line out there so I don't ramble for twenty pages without actually getting there.

Last year, someone in my family was diagnosed as being on the spectrum. They are very young, as is typical for these diagnosis, and it was a long time coming. (The individual probably isn't non-binary to be clear. But is very young, and I want to put out as little real information about them as possible including gender, hence vague pronouns.) We all knew they were a bit different, in some areas operating as if they were many years older than their actual age, and in others many years younger. I won't get into the specifics of their case, what's important with regards to my story is that this got many people in my family to start learning about ASD. We have a very large family. So this meant a lot of people close to me learning about this at once.

This lead to me getting the same reaction from a significant number of people who know me pretty well, all within a few weeks. "Hey doesn't this sound like you?"

So for the first few, I blew it off. It's a "trendy" diagnosis these days. People literally chase it, which creeps me out, and I really don't want to be associated with people like that. Also, I told myself, it's probably just the ADHD, they share a lot of markers, and I've generally got reasons for why I have certain behaviours in common. So it's just a coincidence. I mean I've been doing fine for this long, and I relate to people okay now. Mostly. Okay maybe not so good. But I get along with the people who know me well enough. I don't have trouble understanding other peoples emotions or motivations. In fact I'm very good at it. So that can't be right.

But the questions kept coming.

And coming

And coming

And at some point I guess I stopped dismissing it off hand and started actually trying to refute the points. Which of course, requires actually thinking about them.

And it started being kind of hard to refute =/

So for example. I've always had ADHD. Maybe. When I actually stop and think about it I was never actually diagnosed. It was just something adults started saying about me in elementary school. But it was never diagnosed or treated.

I have some kind of OCD. Maybe. Also never diagnosed or treated. But I can be obsessive about hand washing. Like really obsessive. Wash my hands ten times in a row because I still don't feel clean obsessive. Crooked pictures bother me. Lots of things.

I seem to have some kind of anxiety disorder. It comes and goes, but it can be a real problem. This one wasn't properly diagnosed, but was medicated for a while, which only made things much worse.

But as I went through and actually researched to try and refute the argument for ASD, I hit stumbling blocks.

Yeah I relate to people fairly well now. But to be fair I've had several decades of practice. If I think back I remember so many times where I really didn't understand why people were mad at me. I would think I was just "joining in" to be proven very, very wrong. I can look back now at some of the things I did and cannot fathom why I thought it was a good idea. Why I thought that people felt one way, when it was so very clear that I was wrong. I struggled badly to relate to my peers. At the time it was explained as a result of my upbringing. It was pretty atypical, and didn't allow for a lot of practice dealing with people my own age.

But what if that wasn't the cause? What if that would have happened regardless?

The OCD... While I obsessively wash my hands, and can't stand a wide array of standard OCD triggers, I also have no problem with others. I'm quite a slob. My living space is a constant mess of clutter. So why the contradiction?

What if... What if my issues aren't actually OCD related, but sensory? I just can't handle the feeling of anything on my hands, visual input that doesn't line up, things like that? It might actually fit far better than OCD, as I have a huge issue with scents as well.

With the anxiety... Well that one's a bit of a wash. I understand it goes along with ASD pretty tightly. But also with ADHD. I read somewhere that the majority of anxiety disorders are actually caused by untreated ADHD, I can't find anything backing that up statistically, but I can certainly find very tight links between them.

Then there's all the other little things. Like Info-dumps (Hello Cherenkov Radiation, and a hundred other things I've posted about over the years)

I think it was actually here on tumblr that I read someone posting about different love languages. And it connected so strongly with me that I actually ended up in tears trying to explain it to someone later >_<. It was suddenly super clear that I had been repeating a number of these supposedly ASD love language things. I hadn't realized how important some stupid little things I'd been doing were to me, and how much it was hurting when it was ignored, until I read it, spelled out like that.

So yeah... All of this combined has me pretty sure now that I fall somewhere on the ASD spectrum. And I'm really, really not sure how I feel about that.

On the one hand, it's already been helpful. The love language thing alone has really helped me with processing some things I won't go into. And much as when I got my cancer diagnosis, it feels like this makes a lot of things make sense that didn't before ( I'm not comparing the two in any way that's meaningful to the actual diagnosis. I'm saying the resolution of a mystery is helpful in a similar way, even if it offers no practical "solution". To be crystal clear, I'm NOT saying ASD is like Cancer. So just stop with that.)

On the other... Well. I'm not a kid. This isn't something coming along during my formative years. I've spent thirty plus years coming to terms with "me". I've always been odd. And figuring that out, and how to be happy, has been a LOT of work over the years. But the work is done for the most part. I'm happy. I'm comfortable. And this comes along feeling like a damn wrecking ball. Like oh, the way I am isn't because of my upbringing, or my parents, or my personality, but just a quirk of genetics? And yes, I know that nothing has changed, even if it's true then this is just the way I've always been and this is just a new way of thinking about it...

But it feels different in a way I can't quite express =/

And I really don't know how to feel about it =/

On top of that, I've seen what parts of the world do with adults who "come out" as autistic. It's seen as a trendy thing now. Like Fibromyalgia. A way to dodge responsibility, or excuse shitty behaviour. (Again to be clear, I'm not calling it or Fibromyalgia that. I'm saying a lot of people do, and treat people differently as a result of their belief). And to be honest I'm a little afraid of what will happen. How some people will react. I'm already a "special snowflake" for many other reasons. I know tons of people will just see this as me co-opting yet another identity to try to be special.

Soooo, yeah. This is me testing the waters. "Coming out" as it were, somewhere safer than IRL =/. It's also early. I can't confirm anything. I don't even know HOW to confirm anything.

I have decided that I want to know though. I want to confirm things. One way or the other. But I'm stalled. Waiting to hear back from a few agencies and doctors. As so far I don't even know where to start =/

So yeah. That's the story. Rambling Info-dump over.

Just gotta get up the nerve to hit post.

[erigold13261]

Just realized how the Project Mermaid group could be the ones who stop the Revolution in that particular AU

They are more desperate. Instead of just four loyal teens, it's a dozen of them. (Some people moved to another continent just for this, and/or cannot/don't want to go home.)

Advantage in numbers. It's FIVE mermaids now, and more backup for things like editing and art. (You have to destroy more of those connection points.)

We have Miles on the team, who can get everyone else to focus, strategize, and make sure B2J are done for. (Miles himself knows that B2J have a point, but does not want Gwen to go back home.) (Side note, but Miles is gonna be a bit pissed if they lose, and Mayday tells his crew that they are kids meddling in politics)

...Oh no it's another FRAU

You actually make a lot of good points! This is absolutely something that could happen and would make it another FRAU! However, it would not nearly be as dark as my OG FRAU where 1010 are the ones to stop the revolution.

The main reason for this is because, in order for 1010 to stop the revolution, a lot of stuff regarding Neon J, his past with Martha and his kids, and the war all have to line up in order for 1010 (mainly Blue) to have the push needed to actually end the Revolution.

In that specific scenario, Project Mermaid would not have been able to form. It would only ever stay with the main Sayu Crew.

So instead of the change in the past happening with Neon J and 1010, the change(s) are now applied later in life with the Sayu Crew and Arachnikids. I can't think of any major change, but all kinds of smaller changes are needed to make Project Mermaid form.

Most likely it is just the kids finding out about Sayu earlier into the development process. So instead of like Gwen and Margo finding out about Sayu a year away from mer joining NSR (or after ze joined), some ad or someone sharing Remi's (and Tila's) art/work allowed the Arachnikids to find the mermaid fandom earlier and actually have time to join the project.

There's also the possibility that Project Mermaid FRAU's major change is that the mermaids joining either swap with DJSS joining point (so DJSS is there a year longer while the mermaids are there a year shorter than their OG counterparts) or that the mermaids joining are just pushed a year or two later (meaning they had to outrank the previous charter quickly).

Either way, both of these scenarios are going to make the Project Mermaid members work extremely hard to prove that they are worthy of their position in NSR. They aren't going to be as complacent and easy going as the OG Crew was.

Not to mention, like you said, there are now 5 mermaids to fight instead of just 1. Though I do think there would be some drawbacks to having 5 mermaids present at one time instead of just 1.

One of the main drawbacks would be that the 5 mermaids would not be nearly as big as OG Sayu (but not as small as a normal citizen). Mainly because of processing power and render distance now having to account for all 5 models instead of just 1.

So the stage/environment would probably be smaller or just 1 or 2 mermaids are on at a time. Honestly I can see it going like this. 1 mermaid tries to take on B2J, then once that one is defeated 2 go to take on B2J while the others try to fix the one that got broken. Once one of the 2 out there is broken then the last 2 go out and fight B2J as a 3v2.

As that fight is going on the other 2 are brought back online and now it's a 5v2 against B2J. I'm pretty sure B2J could win, but it would turn out kinds like Eve's fight with them having to split up and cause a lot of lag to the mermaids in order to put an end to the fight.

There is also a thing to not that with just how many people are behind Project Mermaid, that means different opinions and fighting styles would come up. Arguments and infighting could start to pop up which, along with the lag, are the main factors that would allow B2J to beat this version of Sayu (and friends).

However, it is also very easy to see that, if the mermaids stick together, all come out at once, and/or don't start fighting with each other, Project Mermaid would definitely be able to beat out B2J and stop the Revolution from continuing.

Not entirely sure if defeating B2J would wind up in B2J being permanently hurt like in my OG FRAU. I honestly don't see a lot of the members wanting to actively hurt B2J, at least not without the push from other factors (like Gwen wouldn't want to hurt them, but damn she knows she has to stop them to stay away from her father and so is willing to hurt them).

Also the fact that like, B2J are in a digital world but can still somehow get hurt. Like they aren't playing avatars like the members are. Instead May and Zuke are literally in the digital space and getting their asses kicked by Sayu. So that means they could actually get very hurt having to fight off 5 mermaids who all have different levels of what they deem as "too far."

So maybe some kind of weird glitch effect happens to B2J that haunts them forever after the revolution ends. Something like Vanellope Von Schweetz's glitch/pixlexia from Wreck-it-Ralph except that it kinda hurts or at the very least feels uncomfortable, idk.

Either way, they can't continue the Revolution from here on out, which, depending on where the mermaids are might not even make this action worthy of being called a revolution. (Like if the mermaids and DJSS switch joining times, then Sayu is first and is the one to stop B2J immediately, making this hard to justify as a revolution and not just an attack on NSR or Project Mermaid. If Sayu is still second and had recently outranked the previous charter, then it would be known as stopping a revolution in its tracks).

The aftermath of the failed revolution is also going to be VERY different from the aftermath of the OG FRAU. Mainly because a lot of the Megastars aren't already bitter (like Neon J and 1010 being more like their OG selves instead of their FRAU selves), so there isn't going to be a hostile and toxic work environment that spawns up from the end of the Revolution.

If anything, the mermaid members are all praised for accomplishing this whole thing as there was not enough time for B2J to actually get their point across to everyone meaning that they have a lot less sympathy going for them (plus, people would start thinking about what-ifs and many would come to the conclusion that B2J would have had to hurt Yinu if they weren't stopped which makes them seen a lot more in a negative light).

I just feel like a lot of the turning point in people's opinions about B2J happen after defeating Sayu, so being stopped by the mermaids first or 1 boss in really makes it hard for this to be seen as a true revolution that was going to help the people instead of just two bitter idiots wanting to hurt the system that is graciously providing power.

So yeah, Project Mermaid failed revolution is a much happier overall AU that isn't as heartbreaking and painful as the OG FRAU. B2J still have to deal with their consequences (like pixilation or something like that), but nothing truly changes with the system meaning there are still lots of blackouts and other problems that no one is truly addressing except for some people who did agree with B2J.

Honestly, I don't even see a second revolution coming from this because the people who agree with B2J are so small and still aren't truly convinced that a revolution would work in the end. So the revolution just stops at Project Mermaid and the members are probably given a lot of praise and benefits for proving how loyal they are to NSR as well as how powerful they are at such a young age.

[trying414]

This is not my post, so here is the link to the original.

ATTORNEY'S ADVICE - NO CHARGE

Read this and make a copy for your files in case you need to refer to it someday. Maybe we should all take some of his advice! A corporate attorney sent the following out to the employees in his company:

1. Do not sign the back of your credit cards. Instead, put 'PHOTO ID REQUIRED.'

2. When you are writing checks to pay on your credit card accounts, DO NOT put the complete account number on the 'For' line. Instead, just put the last four numbers. The credit card company knows the rest of the number, and anyone who might be handling your check as it passes through all the check processing channels won't have access to it.

3. Put your work phone # on your checks instead of your home phone. If you have a PO Box use that instead of your home address. If you do not have a PO Box, use your work address. Never have your SS# printed on your checks. (DUH!) You can add it if it is necessary. But if you have It printed, anyone can get it.

4. Place the contents of your wallet on photocopy machine. Do both sides of each license, credit card, etc. You will know what you had in your wallet and all of the account numbers and phone numbers to call and cancel. Keep the photocopy in a safe place.

I also carry a photocopy of my passport when I travel either here or abroad. We've all heard horror stories about fraud that's committed on us in stealing a Name, address, Social Security number, credit cards..

Unfortunately, I, an attorney, have firsthand knowledge because my wallet was stolen last month. Within a week, the thieves ordered an expensive monthly cell phone package, applied for a VISA credit card, had a credit line approved to buy a Gateway computer, received a PIN number from DMV to change my driving record information online, and more.

But here's some critical information to limit the damage in case this happens to you or someone you know:

5. We have been told we should cancel our credit cards immediately. But the key is having the toll free numbers and your card numbers handy so you know whom to call. Keep those where you can find them.

6.. File a police report immediately in the jurisdiction where your credit cards, etc., were stolen. This proves to credit providers you were diligent, and this is a first step toward an investigation (if there ever is one).

But here's what is perhaps most important of all: (I never even thought to do this.)

7. Call the 3 national credit reporting organizations immediately to place a fraud alert on your name and also call the Social Security fraud line number. I had never heard of doing that until advised by a bank that called to tell me an application for credit was made over the Internet in my name.

The alert means any company that checks your credit knows your information was stolen, and they have to contact you by phone to authorize new credit.

by the time I was advised to do this, almost two weeks after the theft, all the damage had been done. There are records of all the credit checks initiated by the thieves' purchases, none of which I knew about before placing the alert. Since then, no additional damage has been done, and the thieves threw my wallet away this weekend (someone turned it in). It seems to have stopped them dead in their tracks.

Now, here are the numbers you always need to contact about your wallet, if it has been stolen:

1.) Equifax: 1-800-525-62851-800-525-6285

2.) Experian (formerly TRW): 1-888-397-3742 1-888-397-3742

3.) Trans Union : 1-800-680 7289 1-800-680 7289

4.) Social Security Administration (fraud line):

1-800-269-0271 1-800-269-0271

We pass along jokes on the Internet; we pass along just about everything.

If you are willing to pass this information along, it could really help someone that you care about.

[waitingformyfavoritesongs]

26 Jan u ary 2023 Thursday 4:26 am pdt

Incubus put something into a hole in my spine that I was not aware was there. 4:29 am pdt my life is over. 4:30 am pdt

7:26 am pdt didn’t Simon Cowell recently have back surgery? He’s brave 2 go through with something like that. It was sometime after I found an article about him saying that the voice copied? Or stole something they were going to use that he fell down the stairs. I blame incubus 4 that. 7:28 am pdt

7:24 am pdt incubus continues to torture my rib area as usual when I think I don’t have a husband and similar thoughts along those lines.

7:44 am pdt this feels to me as if it were translated n2 words from symbolism of Adam and Eve rib, is designed 2 mislead until it is too late and becomes clear it is sarcasm and that it’s all a big Joke. I’m a fool . They made me n2 one. Why I never reported “ Brendan”? 4 starters ... 4 some reason I was more focused on trying 2 explore possible romantic feelings 4 him 4 years without thinking that he was a bad guy. Even though it was apparent he lied about his age I didn’t know what his age was until years later. But when I learned his age I think I was 18 already?? My memory is fuzzy on this part. Lower Back? pain 😖😭 7:51 am pdt 7:53 am pdt I was chatting with a guy in Michigan at the same time as Brendan in Long Island New York Bcz they both instant messaged me at the same time on aol. The guy in Michigan seemed more honest about himself that he emailed me a pay stub with his social blocked out with permanent marker I think and a drivers license with the drivers license number blocked out and my mom took both of the printouts to the police bcz she was nervous. 7:57 am pdt “Brendan” in his Friendster profile said he was year of the monkey and he liked drums and anime and clockwork orange the movie? I think. I think he also told me that movie on the phone but my memory is blurry. 7:58 am pdt in the phone he said he liked “kitchen Spanish.” When we chatted online he said he was friends with gym class heroes (2001). His picture in Friendster ... he was EXTREMELY ATTRACTIVE! A stunner. 8:01 am pdt he never sent me a picture so this probably shocked me at the time, again memory blurry. He was a sweet talker online and on the phone. Unfortunately he was 5 years older than me. I don’t know if it was him that I was talking to online and on the phone. I don’t know if he had a roommate or close relative that he would have let have access to his account. Why would he keep the same email address? Why would he link someone else’s art website and give the impression that it was his when it was not? Why would he use his first name but pretend he had the face of Russell Crowe which he told me on the phone? 8:07 am pdt is he a gas lighter and guilty of bigger things??? 8:08 am pdt 8:10 am pdt the first night he instant messaged me it was a little more than a month b4 my 16th birthday and he said he was 17 years old at the time- “Brendan.” 8:12 am pdt

9:29 am pdt there was an article I read a very long time ago about parents? If children they gave up 4 adoptions. Something about feelings. I probably need to double check this. It was probably something that presented itself infront of me like a lot of articles do these days. Otherwise I’m not sure how I found out about it. It is strange to me. 9:33 am pdt

27 Jan u ary 2023 Friday 6:39 am pdt heart pain probably from being burned a lot. 😖😭🥵😤🥵😤

got hooked 🪝 on thinking incubus is attractive again and then he applied acid 2 my vag again. B4 that I think I watched fifth harmony work from home 🏠. When I try 2 pull away some times he puts his wicked Merlin 🧙‍♂️ “love” potions 🧪 in me & I go back 2 wanting him. It seems at this point it would b best 2 pretend? Not care about being honest bcz honesty is not rewarding. 6:44 am pdt now I question if I was being honest about not wanting him. There are times now that I don’t find him attractive let’s just put it that way. 6:46 am pdt bcz when I think I am turned off by something he somehow flips the switch so I’m no longer turned off by what he did. 6:47 am pdt 😑🧐🤨 6:48 am pdt

7:03 am pdt toilet 🚽. 7:04 am pdt so tired 😓 😴 gurgled. I sound like an old man 👴 now when I complain of pain. 7:06 am pdt what turned me off tongue 👅 sharp cutting pain 😖😭 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵 the part about him sending naked selfie 🤳 to mvrykv_ on Instagram. And thinking they probably acted out the sexting in person in Paris, France 🇫🇷 last year. After I felt and thought 💭 that it turned me off so much that I can no longer want what incubus wanted me to believe is true b4 all the women came out to expose him... & then the feelings flipped. I strangely started getting turned on at the thought 💭 of them doing it. He cursed me. & tricked me. He’s doing a strange dance 💃 of deception. 7:13 am pdt 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵 7:14 am pdt he burned my heart ♥️ after I typed that and it hurt! 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵

this is how he controls the economy, everything! 7:15 am pdt

I still can’t add images. He really intends 2 sacrifice me. As a martyr. Designated b4 conception. I have a Pegasus? Purple slightly transparent my little pony. I think I was 6 years old still but moved already to San Jose from king 🤴 city 🌃. I took a bath 🛁 with it. I also played with it in the sink. One of those times the stick on paper eyes 👀 washed out. My dad re-painted the eyes 👀 with lavender irises. Originally it had pale blue irises. 7:22 am pdt eyes 👀 being removed are a symbol of Saint Lucia. 7:23 am pdt

11:16 am pdt they’ve been yanking/yo-yo-ing my feelings back and forth 4 a long time, at least 5 years for the incubus. Now they’re burning 🔥 my hips and butt. I suspect I won’t be able to walk after they do this a lot. I had difficulty walking 🚶🏿‍♀️, on and off, since 2020. He made my body absurd shape, after cutting and trimming away at bone 🦴 and muscle since 2017, he made it extra and apparently absurd since 2021 and 2022. I keep on guessing when and how it will all end. In mid 2022, around May I again accept that nothing romantically will happen between me and incubus. And then when I read about Jaycee dugard on Wikipedia, he springs it on me that I have a memory problem and that he’s my husband and I don’t remember. Weird. And he convinced me but I was still in disbelief of my good fortune? But I’m still being destroyed by him and I really don’t remember anything about being married to him. Now I am back to being in disbelief. But my brain 🧠 keeps on wanting 2 going back to believing on its own bcz it’s more comforting 2 believe even if it’s not true. 11:28 am pdt but the comfort is short lived Bcz they go back to torturing me and my memory comes back that the torture was so severe in 2017 that I felt I was dying in agony and misery with every time and way they touched me. 11:30 am pdt R.I.P. the torture I felt gives R.I.P. truth - revelation. We are maybe most of us are Jesus when we hit 32 or 33 years old. We only get true peace ☮️ when we are dead ☠️. 11:33 am pdt because incubus likes suffering. 11:32 am pdt

12 pm pdt there’s a very awful joke I heard 👂 when I was a kid that’s been on my mind a lot since 2017: what do you call a man without legs 🦵 and arms? Answer: Bob. Something I think having to do with buoys ?? Bobbing up 🆙 and down with the waves 🌊 of the ocean 🌊?? 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵😞 heart ♥️ pain 12:03 pm pdt

12:04 pm pdt I don’t recall telling Scott “I like you.” I remember feeling guilty that I could not say it when he asked me. It didn’t seem to matter in the end though. He knew he was tempted but chose 2 see me again anyway. B4 we had”s*x” or what some might call rape, I don’t recall him saying that he liked me either. In retrospect, I felt so much guilty and I felt so sick in the head and the heart ♥️ from being with him that I think 🤔 I might have almost not notice that he took none of the blame later on. And he seemed fresh and clean 🧼 and happy, while I felt kinda shitty and guilty. He’s allowed to get carried away with sexual feelings and accept no responsibility 4 his actions but I have 2 own it all???? Demon lord gave me problems with addiction to s*x and tv 📺 and video games and the internet and some foods and eczema and problems with concentration and comprehension and head/brain trauma and relationships and there’s probably more. When he asked me if he could kiss me he did not even let me verbally respond. And if love and doing things right was so important to him he should have held off on asking for a kiss and instead ask, the very first thing: do you like me???????

that! Should! Have! Been! FIRST! But it wasn’t the first thing he asked. The kiss 💋 was more important 2 him. And with my problems with being honest about my feelings and speaking up 🆙 for my self bcz I was very shy 🙈 all my life I hid behind my rain 🌧 jacket 🧥 in kindergarten after I hung it up 🆙 in the wall all day most days until I was transferred out sometime after Halloween 👻 so I guess that was more than a month?? Hmmm 🤔.... and I had difficulty telling people “no!” And addiction to s*x which made it difficult to put my foot 🦶 down with the previous 2 guys b4 him but I did put it down and then he challenged it 2xs in a row that one day. And I challenged it already with a serious question one day b4 that time I believe it was b4 that day and he acted like it didn’t happen at all afterwards. 12:23 pm pdt

with my first real boyfriend, shamefully we did start out friends with benefits per my suggestion, and I don’t think I told him straight that my feelings were changing, and that’s why I suggested friends with benefits as a trial, he did express feelings of wishing I were his girlfriend prior to us doing anything couple-y/physically (12:37 pm pdt intimate) intimidate. I had indirectly warned him it might not work out by asking from the beginning if it doesn’t work out if we can still be friends afterwards. I was kinda crazy? so I actually scared him away permanently unfortunately 😓. I kept trying to talk to him after the breakup and he told me honestly that he would never love me. I appreciate that more than ever now. I even confessed to a mutual friend that I didn’t believe that it would work out since the beginning. I think 🤔 I never had confidence that anything would work out romantically for me since I was very young. Maybe bcz my mom said and did things that communicated I was unlike able? I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if this is considered a self fulfilling prophecy, or I in my real realest uncontrolled by demon lord personality is problematic, or if it really is a curse put on me by the demon lord communicated to me by very few words and symbols/signs. (Saint Lucia curse) 12:33 pm pdt 12:34 pm pdt

2:17 pm pdt I would not want 2 go near the incubus lair? Home 🏠 that would = giving him easy access. That would be sending mixed signals that you want 2 b taken advantage of by incubus. 2:19 pm pdt

2:38 pm pdt I feel like and think that a lot of the media he had me see and hear 👂 was made 2 mislead me and many others, that he might be a good person. But I m having significant doubts now. 2:40 pmpdt

2:45 pm pdt “Brendan” had a great sexy voice and a New York accent. I think I remember when I used the word “hella” he said “Cali lingo.” He also said he had a cousin who lived in San Diego, and an uncle I think who resided in New Jersey?? Maybe 🤔 and he said they were going to have a “wake” for him. And he said his younger brother died in a car 🚗 accident. In 2007 I found his Facebook. He had curly Afro-ish? Big curly fluffy hair. And he’s dating an identical twin named Jackie. I accidentally sent him a Facebook invitation and soon after that I couldn’t see his Facebook account anymore. Huh 🤔 WEIRD! 2:52 pm pdt why did he do that???? Did he remember my first name and the way I described myself in 2001 and freak out???? Or is there something else going on? 2:54 pm pdt was he protecting himself? And or a “friend”? 2:54 pm pdt

3pm pdt after I updated 🆙 this I felt pain in my left heel... it scares me 😱 it feels as if some part of me is being dissolved it bubbles and or fizzes, I am not sure what it is doing. 3:02 pm pdt

3:03 pm pdt also been having tummy aches and earlier today felt as if the possibly the wall of my stomach is being eaten with acid. It’s been happening a lot recently 😖😭 3:05 pm pdt

3:06 pm pdt 3:07 pm pdt I’ve been trying to reconcile ideas 💡 in my head about right and wrong that I think I’ve heard 👂? Or interpreted from like the news 📰.. some men who murdered mothers there was one case recently... I did not commit the name to memory.... there are so many conflicting feelings and views. I guess it maybe has to do with the Bible and news 🗞 of Iran 🇮🇷... 3:11 pm pdt

anyway 3:11 pm pdt... oh. How did I find out his last name? I don’t remember if he used it on Facebook. He might have used Behan. Irish ☘️ playwright who might have been gay. On MySpace he used behan. It might have been on spokeo. Around 2010? There was some free information back then through reverse 🔄 email 📧 lookup option. I did not have to pay 💰 4 anything to get the last name. But if I wanted more information I would have to pay 💰. There a few other things too that were free I remember astrological signs 🪧. But I am having difficulty remembering which astrological signs 🪧 and an approximate address that it said was in vicinity and it was not the actual address. I was weird and I don’t think 🤔 I yet realized that he might be guilty of something bad? Bcz I hesitated on paying 💰 to get more information. I had saw the movie 🎥 serendipity and I wanted a serendipitous moment! Bcz I was going to go to New York for the first time in 2010, and I wanted to probably test fate? Destiny? So without planning to go to any place to intentionally see him, I went around hoping to randomly run 🏃����‍♀️ in to him. I also took a spontaneous trip to Boston. It was a time when I was trying to overcome fears! I went to Boston to see one of the younger guys (3 years younger than me) bcz I had difficulty telling him the situation and asking what he was expecting. He had started going to berklee school of music 🎶 , he was a drummer and saxophone 🎷 player. He said he was going to come and stay up all night hanging out in New York. And As I was talking to him ? Or after? My sister tells me straight without me asking, she says he cannot stay here. Feeling awkward about telling him that, I felt I don’t remember maybe 🤔 it was mean? I had some weird feelings I guess? Conditioning from mom and dad. Dad said American 🇺🇸 woman 👩🏻 can be mean, guys wanna flirt a little, and that he’s lonely, stuff like that, and mom made me feel like I was not allowed 🚫 to be angry, and difficult for me sometimes to know or be certain if I’m in the right? Bcz she seemed to easily get annoyed with me?? There were times I felt like I verbally had to “walk on eggshells”. So I tell him I will come to him to Boston. Some reason he was ok 👌 with that. I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ why. And he transferred his bus 🚌 ticket 🎫 to me. Maybe 🤔 he really was expecting for me to offer my sister’s shared apartment for him to stay???? 3:37 pm pdt when we are in China town at a diner me and my sister have a serious discussion about relationships and dating. I brought up 🆙 that I wanted to find a guy who would wait to have s*x (until marriage). And she said in reply that that’s hard to find. 3:40 pm pdt. I told her I thought 💭 I fell in love with josh. And I said he was so fun (or that I had fun when I was with him 3:50 pm pdt) But for some reason I think 🤔 b4 I went to New York, I somehow scared him away but I didn’t tell her that part. 3:42 pm pdt. China town has the streets canal & Bowery. 🎶🎼🎵 I took the 4 hour trip to Boston. 4 hours is long but somehow it doesn’t feel that long? I also took the bus back in the evening bcz I was trying 2b good & not stay the night at his place which he was probably half joking but not, that he thought 💭 I was a naughty? Girl and should stay the night??? Something like that but he didn’t kiss me, we never kissed, I don’t think 🤔 we ever held hands 🙌 either, but there was a time that I felt I had a really nice time with him and I did start to feel something, but I didn’t feel ready? I think it was??? 3:49 pm pdt. 3:51 pm pdt when I walked around New York with my sister I looked 👀 at many people. Usually I’m very shy 🙈 and I think for some time in my life after I got punched in the head I had looked 👀 down a lot. I was motivated to see if I would run 🏃🏻‍♀️ into him to have a serendipitous movie 🎥 like moment! 3:54 pm pdt

4:07 pm pdt on the news, on tv 📺, I don’t remember when, there was something about vitamin D helps cure autism? I think 🤔 I got a lot of sun exposure on some days in New York and I remember my eczema miraculously healed. I remember when I first arrived it was raining 🌧? I remember some days were sunny 🌞 and we took the bus 🚌 and walked around a lot. 4:11 pm pdt ever since I went to New York I thought 💭 about moving there. But fear got in the way. 4:13 pm pdt.

6:11 pm pdt I tried wearing multiple necklaces at the same time last year and I went to sleep 😴 with them on and awake to find it tangled and sorta choking me. 6:12 pm pdt 6:13 pm pdt

[santhoshjothinathan]

The lessons I unlearned by reading the Book Of Life.

Making Sense of the concepts put forward by a philosopher who stepped out of the game.

Original Article from Substack

"The word is not the thing”. The line was printed on one of the final pages of the book. “The Book of Life” started as a book that reminded me much of my mother, but ended up transforming me. Not a physical changeover, or a mental one but rather a change that is static. Rooted so strong, that it will take the power of 100 excavators to uproot it. Such was the impact of those 350 pages. After a certain point of time in our lives, especially after going through a good number of books, confidence stems up. A baseless confidence that echoes “No matter what type of books and how many books we get to read in our lives from then onwards, there's only a finite number of things that we can learn and being able to extract a mere one percent of new information is a blessing and rarity”. Such is the state of mind that has gone through a petty amount of knowledge. This lethargic attitude does not apply to books, but also life in general. The girl whom you once loved and were dying for an eye contact becomes a fit into the word wife in the latter half of your life if luck permits. The cake that you first baked and were proud of, goes to the list of past failures for the future seasoned chef. An actor whose films you loved to watch in your childhood, suddenly seems like a monotonous performer in your late 20s.These change in perceptions is unavoidable and is bound to happen to each and every one of us, but what’s funny is that sometimes we forget its normal to not be novel. We crave variety, for options, for newness and freshness, and when we finally get that, it becomes a thing of the past. This is exactly the route cause for all the unwanted sufferings that plague our existence. This book exactly addressed this problem in many pages ironically, in a monotonous manner. An insight blew my brains in the initial session of reading, became boring and felt repetitive as the book progressed. I realized I had been waiting for a goods train that would never arrive. There was only so much that could be given to me through that book. Coming into terms with that fact, though it stung a bit, presented me with an opportunity to make the most of what I have. It made me aware of what I had in front of me and made me to gaze at the dew ridden empty railway tracks and direct my eyes towards where it led. and These perspectives put forward by Jiddu Krishnamurthi were quite logical, but at the same time, it was also quite hard to accept. It made me wonder if man had settled for what he had, would we have seen the airplanes and cars, phones and missiles along with the bombs. lands, borders which were all a result of both curiosity and necessity. But it also presents a question that's worth asking. Is the Modern age tilting towards curiosity-based innovations or necessity-based negotiations? The answer is a bit of both. But the mentioned both, are into the habit of getting messed up more often than not nowadays. For example, the necessity to safeguard and minimize the damage done to our environment, when it is put out, sparks up a debate in a curiosity-driven virtual world and there are conflicts of all kinds. Conflicts focused on why, if the why is answered then by whom, if that’s answered, someone asks but why them? It's then followed by what and why it and after these endless circles of conflicts it comes back to square one: But why? Why is there a need to make it happen amidst such outrage and in the end, the entire process gets postponed several light-years or even abandoned or even worse, done in a very mediocre manner. Krishnamurthi talks about conflicts a lot, but I think the conflicts of today's world would be a bit difficult for Krishnamurthi to digest. But luckily, the man who brought up the questions tries his best in putting forward a solution too.

Continue Reading on Substack

[eyndr]

Just ranting, ignore me

SO! Its been a fuckin hell of a year so far yet the misery continues!! Tried to move, went all the way across the country because thats where the opportunity was, living arrangements fell through. Moved all the way back, and now after a week of struggling to acquire health insurance i was finally able to call my trans doc and tell them 'hey i have insurance again please give me my boy patches' and let me tell you, i've been getting antsy because i ran out of patches almost 3 weeks ago and i've been taking it for long enough now that i'm not really supposed to stop, since it could have adverse health consequences. Which I've been warned about before because with my previous insurance I had to hound them every fucking month for a year and a half for my monthly refill and there were times when i went a few weeks without. Like i know its a controlled substance but they just wouldn't put my refill request through for weeks unless i called them daily about it, going back and forth between the insurance, the docs office, and the pharmacy.

Now of course i told the new insurance 'hey i have this medication i need, i need to be sure u cover it' and they went 'yep we sure do :) ' so i said great here's my money. Just got off the phone with the doc who says my new insurance wont cover my testosterone patches, and i'm about to flip my shit but then doc says they DO cover the injections. So uhhhh i guess i have to get over my fear of needles REAL quick because i'm gonna be sticking myself with em every two weeks now i guess

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Sleepovers At The Baji Household feat. A Fed-Up Chifuyu

Summary: Chifuyu just wants to sleep, man, but Baji wants to be a jealous crackhead at 2 AM.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Note(s): I had a little free time and wrote this. So, please enjoy! ALSO, to the anon that sent me a request a few days ago, I saw it and have it filed on my to-do list!!! I will definitely get to it as soon as I get a break in my schedule :)

"Chifuyu, ya wanna see some real discrimination?"

No. No, Chifuyu does not want to see what Baji means by 'real discrimination.'

Does he tell him that, though?

Yes, actually, because it's 2 in the fucking morning and, as much as he respects the other boy, he wouldn't put it past himself to smother him with a pillow after having his dream of cuddling with a sea of puppies suddenly destroyed.

Unfortunately for his sanity, Baji either doesn't hear him or, more likely than not, doesn't give a fuck, because he's already flopping onto his belly and whipping out his phone to do God knows what.

The dial tone that sounds from the speaker a few seconds later makes Chifuyu cringe, especially since it's only ever been a calm silence fit for a good night's sleep prior to Baji bulldozing through it with his absurd question. (At the very least, he's thankful that the latter has half a mind to keep the brightness on the lowest setting, otherwise, Chifuyu would have had to fight.)

On the far end of the row of carefully-laid futons, you shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing together at the noise. Rotating onto your side, you unconsciously reach for Baji, and just when he thinks you're being cute and trying to cuddle him, you smack him in the head.

Baji doesn't flinch, instead, takes his pillow and shoves it in your grasp to keep your unconscious self occupied, so that he can focus on getting through to the person who reuses to pick up (understandably so).

Releasing a frustrated groan after being redirected to voice mail for the fifth time, he dials the number again, muttering an impatient, "Pick up already."

Chifuyu feels sorry for the poor soul on the other end. He would've blocked someone following the first call, because again, it's-

The blond has to squint his eyes up at the digital clock on Baji's nightstand, which confirms that it's already 2:22 A.M, further solidifying the fact that he shouldn't be awake right now. And this also applies to the ever persistent first division captain, who insists on bothering who Chifuyu soon discovers is Mikey from the contact ID that flashes across the screen.

Why Baji is so keen on bothering him is a question he doesn't have the mental capacity to ponder over. The most energy he'll expend is to listen in when the call miraculously connects.

"What...?" comes a muffled voice from the receiver, tone laced in an irked grogginess birthed from a slumber rudely interrupted.

There's an absurdly loud, almost angry, roar of Mikey's name, one that has Chifuyu curling in on himself in a futile attempt to escape a sound that should be illegal at this hour.

But you know what else should be illegal?

The fucking whiplash Chifuyu gets when Baji's deep voice takes an abrupt 180°, switching from its normal gruffness to a squeaky, ear-piercing shrill as he screams, "I love you, love you, love you! Do you love me, too, Mikey-kyun~♡?!"

The room is dead silent.

Not a word. Not a murmur. Not a breath.

Just pure, unadulterated silence as both Chifuyu and Mikey process the words that hang in the air, permeating it with a goosebumps-inducing eeriness from having heard such a...a girly, overtly cutesy screech from Baji.

Then-

"What the fuck? He hung on me!"

Chifuyu opens his mouth, thinks better of reacting to the cursed scene he had the misfortune of bearing witness to, and promptly closes it.

Other people may have sleep paralysis demons.

But Chifuyu?

Chifuyu has Baji.

With both hands partially raised in prayer, he begs for the shenanigans to be over and done with.

They are not.

While his eyes remain closed in a last ditch effort to convince himself that it's all a bad dream, he hears a lot of grumbling happening on your side of the room, courtesy of Baji, who's scrambling around in search of...something. One quick peek reveals him fiddling with a phone - yours, to be exact, as evidenced by the distinctive phone charm of your favorite anime character hanging from it.

"(Y/n), wake up for a second," he hears him whisper. It takes a bit of prompting, until he's able to successfully rouse you enough from sleep to elicit any kind of response, which is, essentially, nothing short of an incoherent, slurred mess. Although, Chifuyu is pretty damn certain he heard you call Baji a 'dickhead' for the trouble.

Unperturbed, he continues shaking your limp form, coaxing you into wakefulness with, "Repeat what I tell you, and I'll let you go back to asleep. Deal?"

You squint your eyes at him, only able to make out a vague outline of his visage in the lightless room. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," he automatically responds with the same phrase he's become accustomed to saying whenever you two made a promise, something done purely out of habit, formed when the two of you were just kids and he wanted to get you to do something absolutely ridiculous either for him or with him. And just 'cause he knows you're more susceptible to complying if he does it, he also interlocks his pinky with yours.

"...Fine."

The approval is his cue to proceed, and it's as he's putting the phone on speaker that he turns back to a regretfully wide awake Chifuyu, mouthing a wordless, 'Watch.'

The phone rings, loud and clear, precisely once and only once.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" It's important to note that even though Mikey still sounds tired as hell, his tone is much lighter, much happier really, than when it was Baji, which is an offense in itself to the said teen that's off to the side, attentively listening to the conversation unfold.

Then, it strikes Chifuyu, what Baji is trying to do, and fuck does it give him an instant headache.

Meanwhile, your mouth morphs into the dopiest of smiles with the pleasant surprise of hearing your boyfriend's voice, chest instantly overtaken by a warm fuzziness that never fails to make an appearance whenever he's involved. Sappy, you know, but it's true!

A light but firm nudge to your shoulder reminds you of your mission. It's too bad that, teetering along the edge of sleep as you are, the words Baji whispers are barely repeated correctly.

The initial phrase from before, the one Baji greeted Mikey with, is shortened to a simple, "You wuv I...?"

But, without missing a beat, you receive Mikey's confident reply of, "Mhm... I wuv you a lot."

There's a sleepy giggle then - a fucking giggle - before your voices drop to sweet whispers that the third and fourth wheels can't fully comprehend from where they are.

"Where the fuck was my 'I wuv you,' huh?!" Baji whisper-shouts, considerate of your conversation even when ranting and raving. "Shit, I would've taken a simple 'I love you,' too! I've known that bastard way longer than (Y/n), and this is what I get?!"

Okay. Toman's president answers his boyfriend's late night calls faster than he does anyone else's and openly expresses his love for him. So what? Chifuyu wouldn't exactly call it 'discrimination,' per se. 'Favoritism,' maybe if you wanna stretch it, but using as strong a word as discrimination, especially taking into account you two are dating; it's normal? Nah.

"You wanna say 'bye' to them? Mm. Baji and Chifuyu." A pause. "Fuyu, Mikey says 'bye.'"

"Bye, Mikey-kun."

The other person in the room waits, and waits, and waits, and when it's clear that there is no intention to address his presence whatsoever, Baji turns to Chifuyu with an almost scandalized expression, making wild gesticulations with his hands, clearly distressed. "See?!"

Blank blue eyes stare back at him, unblinking. Honestly, it's a common occurrence - Baji spiraling in a nonsensical rage - so it's easy for Chifuyu to block out the muted, jealousy-driven temper tantrum as he takes his pillow in both hands, raises it as high as he can, and-

Sigh.

-lets it flop right back onto his face.

He can't suffocate Baji. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. After all, they're best buds, meaning he has an obligation to put up with shit like this once in a while. (Plus, he'd probably get his ass kicked before he succeeds anyway. Totally not worth the beating.)

"Did you hear? Mikey said he wuvs me," he hears you drawl dreamily as soon as you hang up, sounding very close to clocking back out for the night.

"Yeah, yeah. Cute shit. Happy for ya, dude," Baji huffs. Thankfully, he sounds like he's in a similar state to yours, if the yawn that follows his sarcastic comment is anything to go by.

"...He soooo ignored you."

That warrants a punishing punch to the arm, dulled only slightly by the combination of the thick quilt you're swaddled in and the raven-haired boy's fatigue.

"I'll fucking throw you out right now, (Y/n). Don't test me."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

The conversation gradually dies down shortly after, the exhaustion that took its sweet time getting to both of you having reached its peak with the help of the childish bickering. It takes 10 minutes, maybe 15, before two sets of light snores fill the room.

Finally.

Let it be known that there is a lesson to be learned from tonight's events. Really, there is. Y'know, something along the lines of 'Don't agree to a sleepover with Baji, if you plan on actually sleeping,' or whatever.

Alas, Chifuyu's consciousness fades before he realizes what it is.

~~~

"Mikey, be honest. Who do you love more? Me or-?"

"(Y/n)."

"But-"

(Y/n)."

"I-"

"(Y/n)."

Baji is only momentarily discouraged, sharp eyes glaring at the blond that lays his head on your lap after hi-fiving you. He didn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice.

"(Y/n) or Babu?"

From the way Mikey stiffens up, refusing to look at either him or you in the eyes, Baji knows he has him right where he wants him, has him torn between a cute face or a sweet ride.

"Oi! Don't pretend to be asleep! Answer the damn question! OI!"

(After hours of serious contemplation - even though you told him it doesn't particularly matter - it's revealed that, of course, Mikey loves you more. Babu just happens to trail behind as a very close second.)

[miekasa]

six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn​​ for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex. 

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.  

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher���s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.  

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team. 

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”  

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”  

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.” 

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

[humanwheatleyslefttoenail]

why do you ship chell and glados if glados is basically her mom

Okay this is actually a pretty common misconception in the fandom that unfortunately a lot of people have taken as canon, but I’m feeling nice so I’ll answer your question.

Basically, anon is referencing a theory from around 2012 that Caroline is Chell’s mom. The evidence for the theory is as follows:

- The turret opera calls Chell “bambina”, which means “little girl” in Italian

- Chell’s name can be found on a Bring Your Daughter To Work Day science project

- GLaDOS references the possibility of Chell being adopted multiple times

- GLaDOS is significantly nicer to Chell after discovering she’s Caroline 

And, anon, you’re right, it does sound like a pretty good argument at first glance. The problem is that a lot of these points don’t actually hold up to scrutiny.

For example, although “bambina” literally translates to “little girl,” it’s often used in the same way “baby girl” is used in English - it can mean child, but contextually it’s usually a flirtatious term. (Source: Cambridge Dictionary)

For Chell’s science project, it doesn’t work as evidence for the theory because GLaDOS killed the scientists around 1998-ish, when Caroline had presumably been uploaded several years earlier and Cave was already dead. Also, Chell’s in her 20′s, and since we know from Lab Rat/Portal 2 that people don’t age in stasis, and that Doug put Chell at the top of the test subject list only weeks after the takeover, Chell was 28 at the time of the takeover. The science project is really only an Easter egg and doesn’t actually fit into the canon timeline let alone prove anything about Caroline and Cave. 

GLaDOS talking about Chell being adopted is a pretty strong point, I’ll admit, but also it’s important to remember that maybe half of what GLaDOS says is true. And even if we take what she says at face value, she also says there’s a man and a woman in stasis with Chell’s last name, which could not have been Cave and Caroline because they were already dead at that point. And the official book Final Hours Of Portal 2 confirms Cave and Caroline were not married and could not have shared the same name anyway. It was also the 50′s, an an unmarried couple of two likely famous people having a child would’ve been scandalous, and yet we see no hint of something like this affecting their company. 

Also, although GLaDOS is nicer to Chell after the Caroline reveal, that’s not necessarily indicative of a mother-daughter relationship, and neither is any of their interactions. It’s just. GLaDOS being friendlier. 

Finally, when this theory was made (and let’s be honest - it still is happening) Chell was constantly whitewashed to hell and back. 

Chell is Japanese-Brazilian, and Cave and Caroline are white, so it would be a near impossibility for her to be their biological child (and insisting otherwise is kinda. just. whitewashing). And although people will cry “adoption!”, based on what I’ve previously proven, that’s pretty much impossible. This theory that somehow she’s Cave and Caroline’s daughter erases an important part of her identity. [Disclaimer, I am white, but this is what I’ve heard from around the fandom]

With all that said, the idea that she’s the daughter of Cave and Caroline really doesn’t hold weight when you really analyze the canon. It’s surface level analysis that doesn’t hold up. And honestly? The idea kinda cheapens the story. It’s much more powerful that GLaDOS learns to care about Chell and becomes kinder than just. Oh, she remembered she’s related to Chell. 

But to actually answer your ask. 

Why do I ship them?

Well, they aren’t mother and daughter, I think that’s pretty obvious now. But if you actually look at a lot of subtext in Portal 2, without the lens of the mother theory, it’s actually pretty romantic! 

I know that sounds ridiculous, but bear with me!

Now - it’s totally okay if you don’t ship them. I get it. Their interactions in Portal 1 and the first half of Portal 2 are toxic if not outright well. Y’know. Murderous. I completely understand why that turns people off from shipping them, and ultimately, shipping is a personal thing. To each his own. 

But before you judge me, let me present my case.

Exhibit A: Portal 

Portal is kinda gay. No, really. Chell and GLaDOS are enemies in this game, but the entire focus is on their relationship (good or not) and the power struggle between them. They are opposites, two sides of the same coin, different representations of opposite ideologies. People have analyzed Portal as a relationship metaphor, or as a metaphor about women’s role in society - either way, the heart of Portal is the complicated dynamic between Chell and GLaDOS. 

That’s not necessarily enough to code a romance, but a lot of popular (and especially popular queer ones) ships begin with opposite ideologies, symbolic powers colliding. Portal cements their relationship as a toxic one, something on the verge of falling apart and hurting both parties in the end. The ending image, of Chell and GLaDOS side by side after the battle, reinforces the symbolic parallels between the two. 

The companion cube is also pretty symbolically important to this interpretation. It’s literally a representation of someone’s heart, and you are told to protect it and preserve it under GLaDOS’ orders, and then you have to destroy it regardless of how you actually feel about doing that. You are destroying GLaDOS’ heart, so to speak. 

There’s also the ending song, Still Alive. The lyrics speak for themselves.

They hint that GLaDOS’ feelings about Chell are more complicated than they may appear (if she’s not being sarcastic...) and she literally talks about Chell breaking her heart (also, think back to the companion cube. Yeah.). The entire song is structurally similar to many a breakup number, with the laments of “I’m glad it happened, but also leave.” 

At the end, we also see that the long promised cake GLaDOS was supposedly lying about was real the whole time. Before Portal 2 came out, it was mostly interpreted as a stinger ending (along with the nicer lyrics of Still Alive) to make you question GLaDOS’ true motives and intentions.

She actually did have a real cake waiting for you. (Side note - not really evidence, but in Argentina, “torta” means cake in Spanish. It’s also a slang term for lesbians. So. Do with that what you will). The cake is what GLaDOS offers you to lull you into the sense that she cares about you, so discovering that “the cake is a lie” wakes you up to the realization that she doesn’t. Except then the idea is subverted one last time, at the very end, showing that the cake is real and at least some of what she said she meant. 

You also see the companion cube. You know, GLaDOS’ symbolic heart?

Now, okay, you might be thinking I’m extrapolating a bit too much. And you might be right. But Portal is not the only game in the series, and if you’re asking me about Cave and Caroline you obviously know about Portal 2.

Exhibit B: Portal 2

If you thought Portal was gay, Portal 2 turns that up to 11.

Even before GLaDOS wakes up, you’re treated to some visual subtext. A few of Rattmann’s drawings representing the events of Portal 2 focus a lot on the relationship between GLaDOS and Chell, with more of the cake symbolism.

In this, you can see a face layered on top of GLaDOS. This could be foreshadowing about Caroline, and likely is, but also resembles his other drawing of Chell. It insists that Chell is a part of GLaDOS, or reinforces parallels between Chell and Caroline, hinting at something either way. 

In this picture, we also see Chell standing on top of GLaDOS, in the same position where the overlay of the feminine face was, again referencing the parallel. It also presents them as opposites, fundamental parts of the same thing and both connected to the same basis, but on opposing sides. 

When GLaDOS wakes up, she returns to her antagonistic role, but there are more hints to something deeper just like in Portal. 

Here, in her awakening lines, she references Chell not unlike an estranged ex. Also worth noting that GLaDOS is pretty much the personification of testing (in a sense, she is testing since she can control all of Aperture like an extension of her body), and insinuates that Chell loves to test. And that she reciprocates that feeling.

In test chamber 10, she says this:

It’s supposed to be threatening, but it does read as almost... sentimental. 

There’s also another chamber with companion cubes in Portal 2. I already talked about their symbolism in Portal, and the same pretty much applies to them here. However, GLaDOS says something interesting about them during this level:

Once again, meant to be intimidating, ends up coming off as “well, GLaDOS, why were you going to give Chell a heart shaped representation of yourself that says ‘I love you?’” And you might think I’m stretching the GLaDOS’ heart metaphor thing a little far here, and I might agree, if the companion cubes didn’t literally sing Cara Mia for you. 

Cara Mia is the turret opera from the end of the game, which is all about how much GLaDOS cares about Chell. More on that later. But the companion cubes play a song called Love as A Construct, and when you get close to them, they sing a specific part of the song that has the tune of Cara Mia. These things literally exist to sing about GLaDOS’ feelings. 

Which makes this line a lot more. For lack of a better term. Tsundere-ish.

Then, right before the escape, she starts talking about the confetti from her fake surprise. 

I really don’t have to explain this one. What else does GLaDOS consider an inconvenience but might miss anyway? Or, more aptly, who else?

Then, during the escape, she teases a (fake) final test chamber in front of you, and forms the panels in the shape of a heart. No, really. 

Up to this point, a lot of the points I’ve presented are interspersed with a fair amount of antagonization on GLaDOS’ behalf, more Foe Yay than anything actually hinting at something deeper than GLaDOS being conflicted about whether she loves or hates Chell. But things really ramp up after Wheatley’s betrayal, when the two of them are forced to team up. (I should also note here that “enemies to lovers” is a pretty classic queer romance trope.)

Here, GLaDOS is put on an equal level with Chell and they have to rely on each other if they want to survive. For the rest of the singleplayer campaign, GLaDOS becomes a lot nicer and even friendly to Chell. There comes a point where she starts referring to Chell as a teammate, calling them “we.” She begins to consider them one unit, two opposites unified. Here’s what she says after the lemon rant:

You can not only see her using we, but actively talking about how her and Chell are going to fight Wheatley together. There’s also that last line - “let’s explode with some dignity.” GLaDOS has fully accepted the very likely possibility that she and Chell might die together. That she might die on the same level, and the same team as Chell. And she seems... surprisingly okay with that, as long as she and Chell go together. 

It’s during the Old Aperture levels that Chell and GLaDOS also discover that they have a lot in common. This is the part of the game where GLaDOS figures out she’s Caroline, that she’s human. Or, that she’s like Chell. And Chell discovers (from what we can tell anyway) that Caroline is kind, that she’s funny and smart and so many of these things she never noticed about GLaDOS before. Now also with the knowledge she is fighting alongside another human being. 

You can also draw parallels between Chell and Caroline, both intelligent women ultimately betrayed by their seemingly innocuous male friends before being trapped in Aperture and forced to team up with one another in a way that will free both of them. We see that really, GLaDOS isn’t that different from Chell - she too has been imprisoned in this place against her will, but in a completely different way. Once again, the idea of two sides of the same coin applies here. 

I’ve written another meta about this before, but I also think the whole idea of repressing a part of your identity and hating it, before bonding with another woman and then realizing that it’s okay to be like her and to be on her side. It’s okay to be yourself and meeting her is what helps you discover this new part of yourself. Is kinda inherently gay. GLaDOS’ discovery of her own humanity just fits so well into a queer realization narrative, to me at least.

Then, Chell and GLaDOS escape Old Aperture and have to get through Wheatley’s tests. 

Here, GLaDOS isn’t just begrudgingly on Chell’s team. She’s actively helpful. She wants to help Chell solve tests, defends her from Wheatley’s insults, and makes jokes to lighten the mood. Things that can really only be explained by her caring about Chell, especially the part about the insults. See below.

After the two escape Wheatley’s testing track, right before the boss fight GLaDOS has a few other things to say.

GLaDOS is not going to betray Chell, because of some kind of conscience. But she could easily ignore that back in her body, and yet? Here she’s deciding not to, and for no good reason. She didn’t have to say that to Chell, but she did, because she cares and she wants Chell to live.

And then, moments before the fight:

The final lines imply that GLaDOS does not think of Chell as an enemy anymore, and that it doesn’t matter what Chell thinks because they are in this together and they are getting revenge together. It’s pretty heartwarming to be honest, to know that even in a fight that will almost certainly kill you, she is there rooting for you and caring about you, even if you don’t feel the same way about her. It no longer matters to GLaDOS whether you even reciprocate - you staying alive, you making it through is enough for her.

So Chell fights Wheatley and sends him into space, all well and good, and at this point, GLaDOS has the option to kill Chell. But not only does she not, she actively saves Chell, and holds her hand in the process. If you don’t believe me:

And not only that, but when Chell goes unconscious from her injuries, GLaDOS sits and waits for her to wake up. It’s also implied that GLaDOS carries her to the elevator, since it’s where she wakes up but not where she passed out. In the scene where Chell blacks out, you can also hear the part of Love As A Construct that sounds like Cara Mia. Yeah. Yeah.

If you think that this cannot possibly get any gayer, you are wrong again, because then GLaDOS makes her final speech. Which is really just a love confession, let’s be honest.

The “surge of emotion?” Do you mean love, GLaDOS? And the idea of GLaDOS considering Chell her best friend, despite everything these two have done to each other? The idea that GLaDOS, out of all people, forgives someone?

Except this isn’t even Chell’s final send-off. GLaDOS writes her an entire opera of turrets, that sing a literal love song. (Note what I said earlier about the use of the word “bambina”).

It really can’t get any more obvious than that. “My (affectionate romantic term here), my dear, I adore you.” How. Is. That. Heterosexual. In. Any. Way.

So Chell goes to the surface, set free by GLaDOS (think of the saying “if you love something, set it free), and you think that’s the end. Until GLaDOS gives you a companion cube so you aren’t alone on the journey, and from the burn marks, you know it’s your first companion cube. Her original heart, her first gift to you, a piece of her that she wants you to carry with you to remind you that she does care about you after everything. It also gives the lyrics to Still Alive a much more genuine meaning. 

Portal 2 ends, and then the ending song, another GLaDOS number plays. Just like Still Alive, Want You Gone is structurally a break up song and very obviously about GLaDOS missing Chell and “counting on” (read: caring about/loving) Chell’s tendencies and quirks. 

She’s accepted Chell completely, and yet also given Chell the one thing she wants most. Only wanting Chell gone can mean GLaDOS not wanting Chell in her life anymore, but can also mean she wants to give Chell the freedom she’s wanted for so, so long. It’s the best thing she can give.

In the co-op campaign, GLaDOS also references still caring about Chell.

And that’s the end of the Portal series. Except. Brace yourself. Despite the games being over, there is STILL more subtext somehow. It gets. Even gayer.

Exhibit C: Supplemental Evidence

Valve has made a lot of extra/cut content for the Portal series, and I’ll be looking at some of it below.

This official valentine from Valve shows GLaDOS offering a romantic partner cake, which as we’ve established before, is very symbolic of GLaDOS’ feelings about and/or relationship with Chell. 

There’s a lot of other concept art and official art that emphasizes their relationship too. See below.

There’s also some cut GLaDOS lines that are even gayer than the source material and again, sound like confessions or references to a breakup:

The idea of “discovering things about someone”... how much more obvious can it get?

The developers have even confirmed a lot of my commentary on Chell and GLaDOS’ relationship in The Final Hours Of Portal 2. See these quotes from the book/this post:

The devs literally describe it as a romance. They use terms like “cheating,” they wanted to write a romantic duet, JoCo purposefully wrote the endings like love songs. It is literally, blatantly said by the creators of the game that their relationship is interpreted romantically. By the creators of the game. 

And if Word of God confirmation isn’t enough for you, have a song written for a cut alternate ending by GLaDOS’ voice actress, Ellen McClain. The song is literally nothing but GLaDOS talking about caring about Chell, about not wanting her to die/leave GLaDOS alone, about wanting to bake a cake with Chell, about waiting for Chell to wake her up. It’s so genuinely sweet and sad, and really, really romantic in the most heartwrenching way possible. 

JoCo also came back for the Portal levels in Lego Dimensions, writing one final breakup song for GLaDOS to sing about Chell. It comes off as GLaDOS not wanting to admit she misses Chell even though she obviously does, trying to replace their relationship but failing, and even explicitly forgiving Chell/wanting her to come back.

Also, the “finally I understand,” as if only now GLaDOS understands just how deep her feelings for Chell are... What else can I say?

In Lego Dimensions, GLaDOS also outright rejects anyone who isn’t Chell.

In Conclusion:

Why do I ship Chell and GLaDOS? 

Well, ultimately, it doesn’t matter whether I ship them. 

Because I think it’s glaringly obvious Portal does.

[writing-in-april]

April Fools

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer needs to one up Reader just as he’s about to loose a prank war

A/N: I’m kicking things off for my 30 fics in 30 days for April with this fic inspired by April Fools day- lol this is a much better version compared to what I have experienced in the past with this holiday 😂 @90spumkin there’s a few specific lines in here that are totally inspired by your cowboy Spencer fic lol 😂 I’d like to hear all y’all’s thoughts so far or just drop me any type of anon here- ask me anything -my requests are also open!! Hope y’all enjoy reading ☺️

Warnings: 18+, Dom Spencer (not as harsh as in other fics of mine), Fingering, Edging, Public Sex, Sex with a hidden motive (there are some real feelings there 😉 plus reader acknowledges and knows the hidden motives)

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.4K

When you walked into the bullpen it was dead silent. If you dropped a pin you’d be able to hear it, even with the carpeted floors. You crept as quietly as you could, afraid that someone might jump out to scare you. It was not as if you had gotten in late today, you were actually cutting it rather close this morning.

Your fear of being submitted to a jump scare so early in the morning wasn’t as irrational. Today was the day that everything was going to come to an either a glorious defeat or a momentous victory. A two week long bet was tipping heavily in your favor at the final hours, you had to be careful to not let your hold over Spencer weaken in these last moments.

Today was April 1st- a day like any other to most people, but not to you and not to Spencer. It had all started when you both had begun trying to do little pranks on each other in the months leading up to the bet. If you asked anyone on the team they’d say it started when you replaced his normal standard deck of playing cards with a new set that had awkward pictures of Spencer you had accumulated over the years taped on them to represent each of the numbers and faces. Your personal favorite was the photos you had chosen for the Queens- one of Spencer looking rather regal, eyes cast downwards and with his hands crossed and a big lip pout while sitting at his desk obviously disproving of whatever Derek had said (who was also in the picture)

The team would’ve definitely said it had started there, but that was the first one that they had seen. The first one had actually been when Spencer had switched around the contacts in your phone while you weren’t looking while you had been hanging out with him. To be fair it had been in retaliation to you playfully teasing him about being a technophobe, all’s fair in love and war you had to admit.

And, whether you admitted to him or not, you did love him. This little bet that you set a few weeks ago had only strengthened your feelings. It involved setting a prank for each other, alternating every other day for two weeks until April Fools day, then the team would judge and figure out who one. You can definitely thank Morgan for that brilliant idea as he had spontaneously suggested it after your card prank on Spencer, though you bet he had been thinking about it for a while. Over the course of two weeks you had to delve into the mind of Spencer, really getting to know what would get under his skin, what would be the perfect prank for him.

“I hope you know what you got yourself into Spencer.” He had smirked back at me when you said that right after confirming your bet. You had delved into researching stuff, trying to figure out pranks that would be more personalized to Spencer rather than the ones everyone would see passed around. Eventually you landed on an idea for your last prank that was simple, yet the perfect way to get under Spencer’s skin. It was so easy you kicked yourself a little for not figuring it out before.

Apparently replacing the sugar Spencer specifically brought in for himself with salt was a step too far according to him. The glare that he had fixed on you after he had spit out his coffee onto his cardigan made you shiver, you knew you were going to be in for something big today.

Plus today was the aforementioned holiday that inspired the bet in the first place, you kind of wished you had gotten the chance to have the last laugh. You were still crossing your fingers and toes in hopes that it wouldn’t compare to your coffee prank.

Your eyes locked on the lone figure standing in the maze of desks, Spencer. It felt as if you were both ready at high noon for a duel to see who drew their gun fastest. Though, comparatively there was a distinct lack of cowboy hats and the sun was down to low for a proper duel. That didn’t stop your mind from wandering to thinking about him in a cowboy hat, he’d definitely look good. you’d have to get him one some day or maybe put a snake in a cowboy boot if another prank war was to ever crop up.

“Where is everybody?” You asked, though you knew that Spencer had probably sent them off elsewhere, you had done the same thing earlier when you needed to convince him that he had come in on his day off.

“I may have bribed them a bit to be elsewhere right now.” He spoke with a smirk that would have seemed foreign to you until you guys had started this. Now it was a staple for him whenever you saw him, going right along with his cardigan and tie to complete his look. There was no complaint from you, Spencer acting slightly cocky just before you were about to get pranked on oddly made you get hot and bothered easier than you’d like to admit.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you crossed your arms in front of you, probably a vain attempt to protect yourself from whatever was coming. Your voice came out a little shaky, “What for?”

“Just wanted to talk to you- privately…” He skated around your question, not really giving you any definitive answer. Though, you hadn’t really expected him to lay out his whole plan, that would just be counterproductive. There was a slight pause in conversation, you were about to break it with your own response when he added,“You know I’ve always found you desirable, Y/N…”

The simple teasing conversation that you had been having with him suddenly pivoted. The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out, leaving you gasping. Even if some part of this led to a prank, you knew Spencer wouldn’t play with your feelings like that. What was most likely happening is that he was using this confession to also pull a fast one on you. His deep brown eyes piercing into your own told you that he was telling the truth in that regard, plus if earlier in the bet was any indication, he wasn’t that good of a liar.

“This wasn’t what I thought you’d be talking to me in private about but- I’ve always found you desirable too...” You admitted with a gulp, pressing your weight into the edge of your desk almost sitting on it.

Your full weight pushed to sit fully on top of your desk, undoubtedly crinkling some important papers underneath when he stepped forward to close the large gap between the two of you. The tension was thick around you now with only two sentences spoken, both full of truth.

“Do you want me as much as I want you?” His lips were now so close to yours his breath was projected onto your lips.

“Yes.” You confirmed, with no hesitation. Honestly, you wouldn’t care if there was some sort of prank he was going to play on you soon, you knew that what he had said didn’t just apply to now. That was the part that mattered to you.

His lips surged forward to meet yours, letting all the tension that had been rising boil over. It was everything you had imagined and more, his lips just as soft and pillowy as they had been in your dreams.

When he pulled your skirt up roughly to expose your bottom half to him you came up off of the edge of the desk slightly, then being pushed back down once you were partially exposed before him. You squeaked into his mouth in shock of how fast this was escalating, but didn’t protest any further, wanting to see where he was going with this. You were so glad that he had gotten the team to leave the bullpen for a while, this would be a hard situation to explain. Being out in the open didn’t make you more nervous though, it excited you to know that someone could be around the corner with only the desk dividers hiding your exposed bottom half.

He didn’t even bother to push your panties down to your knees or ankles. He just pulled them aside to gain access to your now positively dripping hole. You hadn’t even thought to question how this tied into his prank, like it inevitably did, yet. You just wanted more of him, in any way you could get him.

His eyes were fixated on your dripping entrance, seemingly mesmerized by finally being able to see it. The awe in his eyes certainly did make you feel adored by him, but your desire made you feel impatient, “Spencer, do something or I’ll take care of it myself.”

A growl was all you were going to get in response to your desperate snarky comment. He then brought his hand up to suck on two of his fingers, his pointer and his middle. But, instead of then putting them to good use to help you reach a peak he stalled some more by bringing them up to your own mouth.

“I want you to suck too.” A little whine was all you could give in response before letting his fingers inside your mouth. You sucked diligently, making sure to get them wet enough for you.

Once he was finally satisfied with your efforts he removed them, a slight popping noise escaping. Bringing his hand down slowly was just another attempt to tease some more, but you knew that he’d reach there eventually. No matter how hard it was to be patient, you did so, though with a bit of squirming.

Your hips bucked up immediately in response to his fingers coming into content with your clit, Spencer’s other hand came down to press your hips back down again. He spent his sweet time playing with patterns, circling your clit a few times slowly before switching to a faster figure 8 pattern, seemingly just to get you more desperate.

“Spencer- again if you don’t do more I’ll take care of it myself!” You snapped harder with more venom this time, patience wearing dangerously thin. You thought you heard a small whisper of the word brat underneath his breath, but you decided to table it when he finally did oblige you.

You had to bite down on your lip hard when he stopped circling your entrance to plunge two of his fingers inside of you. The pressure on your lip was most certainly almost enough to break the skin while he began thrusting his fingers inside you in a steady rhythm, crooking them perfectly to make you see stars. You had to bite your lip so hard to combat the raging moans that wanted to escape from you due to the pressure he was putting on your gspot.

He brought his thumb up to circle your clit again once he saw that you were getting close, helping push you closer towards the edge. Your lungs were heaving in gasping breaths mixed with desperate moans as he continued to add stimulation to your most sensitive spots, hitting them perfectly with each crook of his fingers and circling of your clit.

Just as your orgasm was about to wash over you, all of his movements stopped abruptly. The euphoric stimulation you had been feeling was ripped away from you, his thumb on your clit halted, the curling of his fingers ceased, and his mouth that had been pressing kisses and hidden hickies to my collarbone had concluded its actions.

“April fools.” He then removed his fingers from me and promptly sauntered off to his own desk with no other words for you. Your legs were still shaking, more now from being edged to the point that you fully had to sit down onto your desk to try and regain your composure. Your jaw also was hanging slack in shock in contrast to how hard you had been biting your lips earlier while his fingers had been inside you.

A little glance from Spencer was thrown your way that was probably to gage your reaction,

you spotted even in your disheveled and distraught state. You had to admit, it was not what you were expecting and he had got you good. Your plan paled in comparison by far considering you were just going to have the entire office call him Stanley all day- and of course steal the coffee grounds to see if you could provoke an even bigger reaction out of him.

A deep sigh came from you, an non verbal admission of your glorious defeat. He had well and truly got you, it wasn’t as if you could exactly defend yourself and your pranks to the team during judging. Not that you really wanted to defend them, there was no reason to, he had well and truly beaten you. You could accept when you had been beaten, you’d accept defeat with grace. Though you definitely still feared the idea Spencer would come up with as a consolation prize for his win.

Reaching down with your hands to a stack of files on your desk you absentmindedly straightened them, then sitting down in your desk chair. You wriggled around a bit, feeling the dampness in your parties, already regretting sitting down. With another sigh you nodded towards Spencer, an acknowledgement of his momentous victory before getting up again to go clean yourself up in the bathroom to clean up- and maybe splash some cold water on your face. Though by the smirk on his face, there was no way this wasn’t going to happen again. And, maybe with him actually letting you finish or not, the thrill was sometimes in the chase of one. You’d also have to think of your own way of retaliation in the future of course, just because you accepted defeat just now doesn’t mean there wasn't a longer war to be won. Plus perhaps you will admit your deeper feelings for him that you could now see lying beneath his eyes as well, feelings much deeper than desire.

Safe to say you just told the team that you lost fair and square, not divulging why no matter how much Penelope pried. It was without a doubt, a glorious defeat.

—

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb

[fernpost]

Cycle 0 - Interviews

[read on ao3]

[next]

Taako Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in transmutation and inventive magical applications.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

Davenport likes to think of himself as calm and composed. It’s hard to throw him off. He has to be in order to have gotten this far in his mission as fast as he has.

But when he turns around from shutting the door to see his interviewee with his feet kicked up on the table, twirling a wand through his fingers, he’s a little shocked. He’s been doing these interviews for two days now, and even the more relaxed and confident people have held a bit more sense for decorum.

It’s a bit rude.

It’s also a little interesting.

He sits at his desk, pulling the elf’s papers away from his boots (shiny, and though they look expensive he can see they’re worn down and well taken care of) and glances down. “Tell me, Taako Taaco, what makes you want to explore the planerverse?”

“Bored.”

If the feet on the desk threw him off for a second, that floors him entirely. “Bored?”

“I’ve got nothing else to do on this plane, why not, you know?”

“No burning desire to go further than any being has gone before?” That’s one of the normal responses, the well-planned out speeches he keeps getting in response to his opening question.

The elf crosses his feet, leaning back somehow further into the provided chair. Davenport worries for a second that he may fall as he continues on, “that’s cool too, I guess. But I figure, why wouldn’t you want the great Taaco name aboard your ship.”

Davenport picks up a pen from his table and makes a small note on the paperwork, “no offense, Mr. Taaco, but you’re rather cavalier about this interview that determines whether or not you’re accepted into a program that may redefine our understanding of the world.”

The elf shrugs and takes his feet off of Davenport’s desk, flashing him a smirk, “you’ve seen my sister’s paperwork, yeah? No way you’re not going to accept her, and we’re a package deal. Says it right there in bold at the top of my application, my man.” It does, in fact, say that at the top. Cursive words noting how he refuses to accept any position on the ship if his sister isn't there too. When reviewing who he was interviewing today, he saw similar words on Lup Taaco’s paperwork.

“You’re very confident in your sister’s abilities.” Davenport begins, pausing for a second as he notes the way the elf begins to tense up before continuing, “however, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short. You also graduated top of your class, and excelled in the art of transmutation multiple times. One of your letters of recommendation even noted how you made many spells easier to cast, somatically speaking.”

“What can I say, I’ll find any short cut I can.”

Davenport makes another note on his paper. “Now, I do need to ask about your record of petty theft.”

“Oh, natch.”

Lup Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in evocation and applied magic regarding planar research.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

“Lup Taaco, it is nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain.” The woman in front of him smiles. The resemblance to her brother couldn’t be more clear, and though her demeanor is quite similar, she at least doesn’t have her feet on his desk.

Not that his desk is anything fancy, but the point stands. “I’m not technically the captain yet, you know.”

“Potato, potato.”

Davenport is fairly certain that’s not how that phrase is used. “You did research into the planes at Tredore, correct?”

“Quite a bit, yeah. I’m sure my brother told you?”

The slight tilt of her head and lit of her voice tells Davenport this is some sort of test, which is confusing and a bit disconcerting, considering he is the one conducting the interview. He checks a quick box on his papers. “He talked you up a bit, yes. But this is your own interview, and I wanted to discuss your own knowledge with you, personally.”

She smiles, a touch more warmth to it than her previous attitude. “Oh, of course. Did quite a bit of studying at Tredore. First real school we attended. Kinda boring at times, you know?”

“If you’re accepted into this program, it’s going to be four intense months of studying and teaching you the more complex workings of the ship. Plus the two months of actually being on the ship.”

“That’s the fun stuff. Not a third semester in a row of another language I already figured out most of years ago.”

“How many languages do you speak, Ms. Taaco?”

“Including common, five languages.”

“Impressive.” Davenport himself only speaks three. “Now, I would like to ask you about your criminal record, if you don’t mind?”

Her smile grew sharp as she laughs.

Honestly, he isn’t surprised. Her explanation is the same as her brothers. Grew up on the road, needed food and other items on occasion. Didn’t always run fast enough. Davenport can’t fault them, and certainly won’t hold it against them.

He glances down at her paperwork, about to ask another question about her education, when she speaks up. “I’ve got a question for you, Captain.”

“Oh?”

“The ship- we’re really going with the name ‘The Starblaster’?”

Davenport sighs. He knew this question was coming, but he was expecting it to come during a press conference from a reporter, not a potential shipmate. “Yes. To be fair, it was a communal name we put to a vote from everyone who worked on building the engine.”

Ms. Taaco smiles. “Dope.”

Barry J. Bluejeans. 37 years old. Human. Wizard; specialization in applied magic regarding bonds and planar research.

Previous experience: Current assistant professor at Duffman University of the Arcane, part-time employee at the Institute of Planer Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Previous altercations regarding necromancy; no crimes against the nature of life and death ever committed.

Mr. Bluejeans is an interesting man. By the look of him, you’d expect to see him fumbling his way through a PTA meeting for his two kids. Instead, Davenport is staring down the word ‘necromancy’ on his paperwork on an application regarding literal planar travel on a ship called 'the Starblaster.'

So far, the interview has been going well. He’d listened to the man explain his research into the arcane, and he’d understood planar travel as well as any of the current scientists and engineers at the Institute. He was called in often for conferences and meetings about the bond engine. He’d seen the man walking around on occasion. They’d never been in a meeting together before, but he’d seemed nice.

But he also had a history of necromancy.

Now, Davenport doesn’t like to judge people. However, being in an enclosed space with someone who needed to specify he had never technically committed “crimes against the nature of humanity” isn’t the most comforting.

But, he was a smart man. Easy to get along with, too. So far. Necromancy notwithstanding.

Best to get it over with, “so, Mr. Bluejeans. I do need to ask about your criminal record-”

“Oh! Yeah, I never killed anyone. Or un- killed anyone. Uh, resurrected, I mean. Just did lots of studying into the application of necromancy and necromantic spells. Got in trouble because I toed the line of ‘research’ and ‘bringing my cat back to life,’ but got a stern talking to. Didn’t try it again, and don’t plan on needing to deal with those types of authorities again.”

Okay, normal enough answer, far as the situation applies-

“My current research into it has stayed purely theoretical, and it won’t interfere with the mission at all.”

So the man is still into necromancy.

Davenport glances down at the man’s file, thick with it’s attached papers Bluejeans has done on planar research. He’s not even stuck up about his level of education, and that’s extremely rare for the field.

Holding back a sigh, Davenport asks, “Can you explain the paper you wrote on the outer planes interactions with the inner planes for me?”

It was a really good paper.

But the man is still into necromancy.

Lucretia. 20. Human. Chronicler; Specialization in journalism.

Previous experience: Due to multiple NDA, she is unable to give us the exact number and titles of books she has written, but she sent letters of recommendation from Duke Rensburg, Lady Norabelle, and Warren of the Seatree Clan.

Criminal Record: Acquisition and attempted use of a false ID.

“So, Ms. Lucretia, I understand you cannot provide us with most examples of your works, but from what you have provided, you seem to be very, very good.”

“I like to think so, yes.” The young woman in front of him seems polite. She’s quiet; he saw her waiting outside with a few others before her interview, and while most of them were engaged in some awkward small talk, she sat away from them. Likely partially due to her age- she is much younger than the people outside- but she also simply seems quiet.

Which wouldn’t be the worst quality in someone you would be sharing a small, enclosed space with for an extended period of time. But, if she couldn’t bond with the others sufficiently, the bond engine won’t work.

(Hell, the bond engine was already finicky, they figured out the tech only a month ago, and they only have four months to bond an entire crew to pilot it and-)

“Can you explain to me why you acquired a fake ID and tried to use it at a, uh,” Davenport glances down at the records in front of him, holding back a chuckle, “at the forbidden section of the Library of Runar?”

Lucretia looks uncomfortable for a second, and he’s sure if the lighting in the room were better he would be able to see her flush with embarrassment. She gives him a hesitant smile, “I can’t get into the explicit details, but I was working on a book for an older client whose memory was becoming patchy, and I wanted to confirm some details before I put their name to it. They wouldn’t allow me into the section without the proper documents, but my client refused to agree that I should double check his work, even though I was almost certain he was wrong, so I simply… found a way to get past their guard. I wasn’t going to steal anything and I was going to use the proper equipment to read through the documents.”

Davenport smiles, “pursuit of knowledge and truth is important to you, then?”

“I don’t think spreading lies, especially in that context, is very honorable, no.” Her hands are folded in her lap now, and she seems a bit more relaxed.

Considering the others he is planning on accepting, he may be wrong about her getting along with them. Anyone willing to break the law just to prove an old man wrong would at least get along with him. Davenport refuses to have any pushovers aboard his ship.

Magnus Burnsides. 19. Fighter; Specialization in protection fighting and mechanical engineering.

Previous experience: Current bouncer at Apex Club. Currently enrolled in Gallier’s Fighter Academy and College.

Criminal Record: One count of assault and battery, appealed for defense of another person present. One count of indecent exposure and public intoxication.

Davenport will be the first to admit it can be tricky to follow human aging patterns, but he knows he’s not mistaken in thinking the man in front of him is barely out of “child” territory. Nineteen is a very, very small amount of time to be alive. Also, a very, very small amount of time to learn important things, like how to run what is basically a ship right out of a science fiction novel- complete with breakthrough technology.

Despite this, it’s hard to not find the young man in front of him to be endearing, and mostly knowledgeable in the things they need him to be.

“Magnus. You’re very young, one of the youngest applicants we have. What makes you think you’re qualified as the head of security of the ship?”

The young man in front of him- Gods, he really is young- grins and lifts his arms to flex, a show of pride and ego almost unbefitting of an interview setting, “Have you seen my muscles? I’m very strong, and a very good fighter.”

Many of today’s interviews have been quite different than he was expecting.

“I was referring more to job experience.”

“Oh!” Magnus shifts in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he thinks. “I worked as a bouncer for a club while I was in college and did, if I must toot my own horn, a very good job. You should have a letter of recommendation from the owner-” He leans forwards, reaching a hand out as if to look through his own files to show him the letter.

“Yes, I did read through it. She was very thorough in stating how eager you were to help.” Davenport glances down at the papers in front of him, holding back a sigh. It truly was a glowing review of this young man. While his grades from the aforementioned college weren’t the highest, especially in classes one might consider important for an institute of planar research, the two letter of recommendations he submitted from teachers of his explained how Burnsides was very persistent when he wanted to learn something he didn’t know. He also had taken quite a few classes regarding vehicles- not enough to claim the young man was an expert but enough to provide a solid basis to show him how things worked and could be repaired on the ship.

The kid’s attitude was something of a breath of fresh air in this place. However, there was one glaring concern.

“I was also a bit concerned about the criminal record we have on file for you. Assault and battery as well as the indecent exposure and public-”

“In my defense for the second one, I was drunk with some friends and maybe thought it’d be funny to streak in the lake. Who hasn’t been to a party that gets a little out of hand.” He holds his hands out as if to say “am I right?”

Off the record, Davenport is inclined to agree that he was right. On the record, he is choosing to ignore it. “And the assault and battery? The file says it was in defense of a young person.”

Burnsides grins, “that’s how I got hired as the bouncer!”

He waits a moment, expecting Magnus to continue. When it seems the young man is assuming that is enough explanation, he prompts, “by beating up a man outside the club?”

“Yeah! He was harassing someone outside, and I was walking home and passed by. I told him to step off, and he didn’t. So I decked him, and he was out right away.”

It lined up with the records he had, and honestly, seeing someone so ready to step up to the defense of a stranger was a good quality. Better than some of the older applicants who were much more… formal in their training. He wonders briefly how Burnsides would react to an altercation against someone with magic.

Glancing down at his records, he guesses he would run headfirst without thinking.

Stifling a small grin, Davenport continues, “Now, tell me. Assume we’re up in space, and something goes wrong with the bond engine. What would your course of action be, Mr. Burnsides?”

Merle Hitower Highchurch. 214. Cleric; Specialization in botany, religion, and medical treatment.

Previous experience: Current botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Professor of botany at Narvick’s University for four years.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of loitering.

The door is pushed all the way open before Davenport can even call out the next person.

A short dwarf slides into the room with a wide grin, “hey Dav!” A mug of tea is pressed into his hands.

“Hello, Merle. You do know this needs to be at least a little formal, yes?”

“Formal schmormal. Ask me your silly questions already, bud.” Merle Highchurch, resident botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration, plops right down in the seat he’d taken to commandeering once a week, for the past three weeks.

Davenport had seen him around before, but a botanist in an institute designed for exploring other planes that had little capabilities to actually go to those places yet was rarely busy, and even more rarely called upon. He still barely knew the guy, but after the day they’d gotten stuck in the elevator for ten minutes when it broke down, the dwarf had come to his office for tea each Wednesday.

It was a bit strange, but the tea was good.

“Tell me about your work experience.”

Merle laughs heartily, “they barely have me do anything around here, ‘cept tend to the couple of plants they’ve grabbed from the ground plane.”

“It’s the Elemental Plane of Earth, and don’t sell yourself short, Merle. This is basically a job interview, you know.”

Merle slurps loudly at his own mug, “aren’t you planning on nepotism hiring me, because we’re buds?”

“That isn’t even what that word means, Merle.”

“Isn’t it?”

Davenport stares into the tea, “is this made from the Earth plant?”

“Maybe?”

Davenport. 276. Captain and navigator; Specialization in mechanical engineering and arcane components combined with contemporary technology.

Previous Experience: Crewmate on the Lady Blue for twenty years. Graduated from Grensville University. Current staff at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Unlawful resistance of orders from captain, raising of commotion on board ship while employed.

Davenport handed the six files over to Selune, “These are them.”

The halfling woman flips through them, eyebrows raising higher with each one she sees. “You’re sure you grabbed the right ones? A few of these I understand, but you do know we had the Issaiah Broler apply.”

He folds his hand in front of him, nodding. “I also know that during the interview he made me want to pour my tea on his lap. There’s no chance of getting the bond engine going with him. These are the six I picked. They’re all qualified- and the ones that are less educated in the specifics in the field I’m sure will pick up on the important information quickly. The Taaco twins already will give the bond engine a huge boost. Ms. Lucretia will ensure we have everything chronicled, something I’m sure you can appreciate, Selune. Mr. Bluejeans previous work shows he will thrive given the opportunities awaiting us. Mr. Highchurch is an educated man, and I trust him to keep the crew healthy and provide ample information on anything botany related we encounter, and I’m certain Mr. Burnsides will provide ample help in any task we show him how to do.” He sighs, glancing out the window of her office. There were a few people lingering outside in the courtyard of the Institute. “We have been given a tremendous opportunity to explore beyond what we can imagine, Selune. The last thing I want is to be bogged down by people stuck in their ways, who have been working in this field long enough to have their preconceived notions about what to expect and who will react badly when they’re proven wrong. I trust my own judgement in picking a crew, and I hope you trust my abilities to get these people ready to set sail in four months.”

What he doesn’t say is that he doesn’t want a bunch of stuffy jackasses on his ship. He’s not even sure picking all the over-qualified people would pass through the higher-ups' inspection of the crew. The people he picked were qualified enough to get a quick sign-off, but not too much. Anyone “overqualified” would probably get rejected. The ship had been built in basically six months. It’d get them off the ground, sure. It wasn’t going to explode on them once they got up there, but it wasn’t safe. There was a reason Davenport was the captain at all.

The six candidates in those files didn’t have a name for themselves as “important” to any stuffy scientific group or noble family. These people he picked were just that- people. A group of people who he believed deserved this opportunity. If anyone was getting the chance to make a name for themselves- to have the chance to redefine everything they know about the planar systems, he wanted to make sure they deserved the chance. A dangerous chance, sure. But what was science if not a little risky.

She sighs, opening the file on top. Her hand reaches for her pen, “Davenport, I got the final say on the name of the ship, I suppose the least I can do is give you final say on the crew.” She begins to write ‘approved’ at the top of the file, flipping through each one before giving him a pointed look. “But when I get angry calls about how you approved a bunch of nobodies and two people not even old enough to drink, I’m transferring them straight to your crystal.”

“And I will not be answering a single one.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Captain.”