#like words and names have power or some other nonsense....

[note-boom]

All right. I'm bored and feel like doing this here, so I'm gonna rate some of the ability names (English version, at least) for fun/no absolute reason

(For the record, as of the day writing this post, I've only read snatches of the manga, none of the LNs, and have just watched the anime)

Let's GOOOO

Armed Detective Agency

All Men Are Equal (Fukuzawa) - 7/10 good, fits the ability, but it doesn't blow me away. Honestly makes me think of the American Declaration of Independence and I feel slightly bad for that

Thou Shalt Not Die (Yosano) - 9/10 seriously cool. I love that it's phrased like a command...it's both desperation and a demand i love it.

Super/Ultra Deduction (Ranpo) - 4/10 sorry Ranpo but this sounds like an adaptation of superstrength or super smarts for deduction. IDK maybe Fukuzawa made it up on the spot for Ranpo?

No Longer Human (Dazai) - 8/10 very fitting...captures Dazai's personality and has fun implications about abilities being part of someone's humanity even though that's probably not intended. Just an author work's ref but still a cool name anyway

Doppo/The Matchless Poet (Kunikida) - 8/10 but ONLY for the Matchless Poet (or Lone Poet) because it's so Kunikida and really conjures the image of that whole paragon archetype. Doppo Poet? Really english dub??

Light Snow (Tanizaki) - 6/10 but may get higher depending on tanizaki's arc. Such an inoffensive ability name, cute, understates what a terrifying ability it could be...a bit like the boy himself. Maybe 7 or 8 out of 10, hmm...

Beast Beneath the Moonlight/Byakko (Atsushi) - 6/10 sorry my boy, but its such a literal name (like Yosano's but descriptive instead of imperative). I'm not sure where Byakko comes from but you should have stuck with that as it's a solid 10/10 name.

Undefeated by the Rain (Kenji) - 8/10 i love the image it draws. Standing strong even though the rain is pouring WHILE it's pouring. Love you, Kenji

Demon Snow (Kyouka) - 7/10 tbh it doesnt make too much sense if you think about it too hard but it sure is a cool name regardless. And it's fun to say so my bias is leaking....

Port Mafia

Falling Camellia (Hirotsu) - 9/10 old man your ability name is PRETTY for an ability that's literally just pushing. But the words kinda fit the vibe and make the ability sound cool

Vita Sexualis (Mori) - 5/10 this is latin for sex power and im sure if you've read my tags I have petty beef against sex and romance (it's mostly as a joke but I'm still gonna let it color all my opinions). Sorry Elise...you're cool but the ability name is honestly sus. However, points for the language consistency (dead languages make anything sound cool)

Golden Demon (Kouyou) - 6/10 sorry Kouyou, but like Atsushi's, it's too literal and descriptive. But at least it sticks to the original title's name

Lemonade/Lemon Bomb (Kajii) - ???/10 i honestly dont know what i feel about this one. Kajii is the reason I look at the whole "abilities are an expression of your soul" thing with utter bemusement. I do LOVE his ability cause it's so unnecessarily random but the name? Idk...maybe 5/10? References the title but also feels slightly too literal?

For the Tainted Sorrow (Chuuya) - 10/10 im sorry but the way it sounds in English appeals to me personally. It's both the title and starring line of IRL Nakahara's poem and I honestly love that so much. Such gravity in those lines (wait....??)

Rashoumon (Akutagawa) - 10/10 it just gets points for its name staying the same in all languages. See, Atsushi? This is what you could have had with Byakko

Midwinter Memento (Tachihara) - 8/10 could be higher honestly because I love the alliteration and the phrase just has nice vibes. Don't know how well it fits the metalbending but it sure fits Tachihara and the way the past haunts him ya know? It makes me wonder if his ability is passed down or gets stronger with remembered trauma or whatever?

Dogra Magra (Q) - 9/10 no clue what this means and google isn't helping. But again with the language consistency...and it also just sounds cool and rhyme-y and slightly horrory. Its the vibes

Flawless (Odasaku) - 8/10 i like the name and all the things it connotes. You have to get real philosophical to parse the connection between his ability and its name, though. But that's why I love it

The Madness of the Jewel King (Ace) - 6/10 a cool name but the existence of Ace confuses me. Wiki says something about Alan Bennet or a character from Dostoy. Im here wondering why another foreign (it seems) dude is working so high up in the PM. Mori and his western loving tendencies, i guess? Anyway. The name also kinda feels more descriptive, but it gets points for drama

[ode-on-a-grecian-butt]

I saw this on quora and thought it was cool and wanted to share it on here.  Its a long read but crazy.  Its from Erik Painter

They did try. And they did capture Navajo men. However, they were unsuccessful in using them to decipher the code. The reason was simple. The Navajo Code was a code that used Navajo. It was not spoken Navajo. To a Navajo speaker, who had not learned the code, a Navajo Code talker sending a message sounds like a string of unconnected Navajo words with no grammar. It was incomprehensible. So, when the Japanese captured a Navajo man named Joe Kieyoomia in the Philippines, he could not really help them even though they tortured him. It was nonsense to him.

The Navajo Code had to be learned and memorized. It was designed to transmit a word by word or letter by letter exact English message. They did not just chat in Navajo. That could have been understood by a Navajo speaker, but more importantly translation is never, ever exact. It would not transmit precise messages. There were about 400 words in the Code.

The first 31 Navajo Marines created the Code with the help of one non-Navajo speaker officer who knew cryptography. The first part of the Code was made to transmit English letters. For each English letter there were three (or sometimes just two) English words that started with that letter and then they were translated into Navajo words. In this way English words could be spelled out with a substitution code. The alternate words were randomly switched around. So, for English B there were the Navajo words for Badger, Bear and Barrel. In Navajo that is: nahashchʼidí, shash, and tóshjeeh. Or the letter A was Red Ant, Axe, or Apple. In Navajo that is: wóláchííʼ, tsénił , or bilasáana. The English letter D was: bįįh=deer, and łééchąąʼí =dog, and chʼįįdii= bad spiritual substance (devil).

For the letter substitution part of the Code the word “bad” could be spelled out a number of ways. To a regular Navajo speaker it would sound like: “Bear, Apple, Dog”. Or other times it could be “ Barrel, Red Ant, Bad Spirit (devil)”. Other times it could be “Badger, Axe, Deer”. As you can see, for just this short English word, “bad” there are many possibilities and to the combination of words used. To a Navajo speaker, all versions are nonsense. It gets worse for a Navajo speaker because normal Navajo conjugates in complex ways (ways an English or Japanese speaker would never dream of). These lists of words have no indicators of how they are connected. It is utterly non-grammatical.

Then to speed it up, and make it even harder to break, they substituted Navajo words for common military words that were often used in short military messages. None were just translations. A few you could figure out. For example, a Lieutenant was “one silver bar” in Navajo. A Major was “Gold Oak Leaf” n Navajo. Other things were less obvious like a Battleship was the word for Whale in Navajo. A Mine Sweeper was the Navajo word for Beaver.

A note here as it seems hard for some people to get this. Navajo is a modern and living language. There are, and were, perfectly useful Navajo words for submarines and battleships and tanks. They did not “make up words because they had no words for modern things”. This is an incorrect story that gets around in the media. There had been Navajo in the military before WWII. The Navajo language is different and perhaps more flexible than English. It is easy to generate new words. They borrow very few words and have words for any modern thing you can imagine. The words for telephone, or train, or nuclear power are all made from Navajo stem roots.

Because the Navajo Marines had memorized the Code there was no code book to capture. There was no machine to capture either. They could transmit it over open radio waves. They could decode it in a few minutes as opposed to the 30 minutes to two hours that other code systems at the time took. And, no Navajo speaker who had not learned the Code could make any sense out of it.

The Japanese had no published texts on Navajo. There was no internationally available description of the language. The Germans had not studied it at the time. The Japanese did suspect it was Navajo. Linguists thought it was in the Athabaskan language family. That would be pretty clear to a linguist. And Navajo had the biggest group of speakers of any Athabaskan language. That is why they tortured Joe Kieyoomia. But, he could not make sense of it. It was just a list of words with no grammar and no meaning.

For Japanese, even writing the language down from the radio broadcasts would be very hard. It has lots of sounds that are not in Japanese or in English. It is hard to tell where some words end or start because the glottal stop is a common consonant. Frequency analysis would have been hard because they did not use a single word for each letter. And some words stood for words instead of for a letter. The task of breaking it was very hard.

Here is an example of a coded message:

béésh łigai naaki joogii gini dibé tsénił áchį́į́h bee ąą ńdítį́hí joogi béésh łóó’ dóó łóóʼtsoh

When translated directly from Navajo into English it is:

“SILVER TWO BLUE JAY CHICKEN HAWK SHEEP AXE NOSE KEY BLUE JAY IRON FISH AND WHALE. “

You can see why a Navajo who did not know the Code would not be able to do much with that. The message above means: “CAPTAIN, THE DIVE BOMBER SANK THE SUBMARINE AND BATTLESHIP.”

“Two silver bars” =captain. Blue jay= the. Chicken hawk= dive bomber. Iron fish = sub. Whale= battleship. “Sheep, Axe Nose Key”=sank. The only normal use of a Navajo word is the word for “and” which is “dóó ”. For the same message the word “sank” would be spelled out another way on a different day. For example, it could be: “snake, apple, needle, kettle”.

Here, below on the video, is a verbal example of how the code sounded. The code sent below sounded to a Navajo speaker who did not know the Code like this: “sheep eyes nose deer destroy tea mouse turkey onion sick horse 362 bear”. To a trained Code Talker, he would write down: “Send demolition team to hill 362 B”. The Navajo Marine Coder Talker then would give it to someone to take the message to the proper person. It only takes a minute or so to code and decode.

[l3mtea]

If you want some story behind this comic, it’s just below this lil comic <3

Oh.

His quiet reverie shatters when pieces of odd moments he’s had with the fallen are forming together like a jigsaw puzzle fitting on each other perfectly.

His reckless actions to gain favor of the fallen’s emotion and attention, his unusual chattiness whenever a squabble with the king begins. Disagreeing and debating such nonsensical topics that he wouldn’t even dare to try and win over but becomes possible if it’s against the king.

Such mundane things became a thrill of joy whenever it was with the king.

The fallen has been slowly becoming a reason for his enjoyment, his everything that makes living in hell all the more fun.

He can never get over the expressions the king shows only at him, his fake smiles will always disappear when it comes to him.

It’s truly a joy.

And that brings him down to a revelation he wished he should’ve not known.

He likes Lucifer.

Terrifyingly, maybe even more so than he’d like to admit.

This revelation might change his view on Lucifer, in a lot of ways if he’s being honest.

But he throws this knowledge out of his mind. He’ll get over it someday. He’s sure of it.

Months went on and slowly, he realized he and the king had some similarities— or something they both have in agreement at least.

Lucifer likes his jokes. It was surprising, really. He simply remarked an off-handed pun towards his colleagues with expectations of none showing such enthusiasm on his jokes— except one did.

He hears the fallen snicker and laughs quietly. A sound he’d unexpectedly find lovely to his ears. A music that he can never get rid of even until today.

It became his purpose to make jokes and make the king laugh— and he didn’t regret doing so.

He tells a silly joke and the king laughs loud, his head falling back and smiling brightly at him, a golden blush spreading across his porcelain face.

It’s a beautiful sight.

“You’re not so bad for yourself, Alastor.” It was a first for the fallen to call his name properly. It’s a lovely ring he’d like to hear again.

“Likewise, sire.”

More months went on and— oh. How stupid he was.

He didn’t mean to utter such a silly thing— towards a being powerful than him no less.

“I like your dumb smile.” He didn’t mean to blurt out his thoughts loud for the king to hear. But he simply laughs at it.

“You do? Stop joking bambi.” A joke. He thought of it as a joke.

“Apologies, the mood was slowly going sour and I couldn’t help but jest a bit.”

“Oh shut up.”

‘Would you believe me if I say I like you?’

• • • •

“Lucifer.” He couldn’t help it. He can’t help but be a fool towards the fallen.

“Al? What is it?” He asks, now smiling at him. He wished for more out of this relationship he cultivated for years now.

“I’d like to confess something.” There was an odd trepidation gripping on his chest. He hates this feeling.

“Confess? Wow that’s a pretty deep word,” an awkward chuckle comes out of him, “whaddya want to say?”

“I like you, Lucifer.” A beat of silence.

“.. what?” He watches him back away slightly, an awkward laugh, “You’re joking, right?”

..

“I’m afraid not, sire.”

“Al, I— uh, I’m sorry. I don’t feel the same way.”

“.. I understand.”

“I’m sorry.” And he runs off.

..

Hah..

So this is a feeling that Vox felt when he rejected him?

Did he also think that he’d wish he died at the very moment when he realized that the friendship they’ve had for years were gone in a blink all for a stupid selfish act such as he is right now?

[lifespectator]

Punk Nun

Power bottom nun!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The pretty nun named Wanda ended up with you…

Warnings: no specified gender but reader is AMAB, VERY little plot, mostly smut MINORS DNI, strong language, some angst Ig but hopeful ending.

A/N: I’m back and posting this to proof that visiting Santa Monica Pier at night changes a person lol anyways sorry if it isn’t the best but hope you enjoy it. Also, art not mine so credit to the original artist.

-

Who would have thought?

"I'm eager to see what's under that habit." You eyed up the horny nun as your wish to see her nude body grew more and more with each second, along with the need to touch her.

That pretty innocent-looking nun with short strawberry blonde hair that had crossed a few glances with you on the few times you did attend church would end up in your room—sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at you with lustful eyes.

It happened too fast. You heard a knock on your door, and Wanda stood there, perplexing you. When you thought she would read the Bible to you, she pushed past you with the excuse of wanting to talk to you like you had offered last time. Things went up from there, so you just chalked it up to 'fate.'

A low moan left the nun's mouth, seeing as you removed your black shirt, exposing your bare torso to her. She looked attentively at your body. Looks like your build was eye candy for her.

"I promise to let you touch." You said as Wanda shifted her attention to you. "But for now, you're in my house, so we'll do a ritual." With that, you walked out of the room. The words that had come out of your mouth had only elevated her sensation of need between her legs.

A sin? Yes. An unforgivable one for sure. She had made her vows to the church. But it wasn't her fault. Wanda never wanted to be part of that. Before, she was a typical teen with dreams and aspirations like many others. But one day, her parents told her they had chosen her life path. Why? Because they had some dream that Wanda would become a nexus being that would destroy everything. Pure nonsense, she always thought. Her biggest regret is that she never fought against her parents' decision.

It didn't matter anymore because she was with you now, and no one could stop her.

Wanda removed her loafers before you came back into the room. Carrying a bottle of red wine, you walked towards her and gently laid the bottle on the bed. She couldn't resist having you so close and lifted her hand and ran it over your abdomen. A low gasp left your mouth at her gentle touch.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" You grabbed a part of the fabric of her habit. "Help me a bit." Wanda raised her arms, letting you gently pull it off her, exposing her beautiful body that was only covered by her black panties. Only Wanda's perky tits were exposed but adorned with a silver cross pendant that hung from a matching necklace. From her face down, she was worthy of being described as a goddess.

"The real sin is having you wear this, which doesn't allow me to see such beauty." You lusted, tossing the habit away, and instead reached for her soft breast, caressing them to feel their softness, making her breathing hitched when you rubbed your thumb on her perky tit. "I will have to include this in my thesis now." You teased, squeezing her breast.

"Oh, you're a priest now?" Wanda asked in a challenging tone, pushing your hands off her bust.

Cheeky. Despite not speaking much, Wanda announced she was not as innocent as she looked.

"I ain't no Martin Luther." You grinned, lightly pushing her against the bed and crawling on top of her. "But I'll gladly be your punk monk, my dear punk nun."

You planted your lips on hers as Wanda gave you access to her mouth. She reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Her tongue was swirling with yours. It was noticeable how it wasn't her first "steamy" makeout. How her hands ran from your hair to your back demonstrated how much she wanted this as much as you did. Her soft hands made her touch unique.

You parted your lips from hers and rested them on the tip of her ear.

"I'm going to begin my ritual." A low moan escaped Wanda's mouth, shivering at the feeling of your warm breath next to her ear.

You got off Wanda and kneeled beside her on the bed, grabbing the bottle of wine and opening it quickly. You offered her the bottle first, which she grabbed without hesitation. It was her favorite, after all. The nun took a deep sip of it and handed it back.

She laid back down at your instruction, letting you do as you pleased with her now. You ran your hand through her soft abdomen, preparing to give her the unexpected.

You lifted the wine bottle and tilted it towards her, pouring some of the wine on her belly button. Wanda jolted and let out a high-pitched hiss at the feeling of the cool liquid making contact with her skin.

"It's okay, beauty. You're okay." You comforted the nun. Her glare softened once she heard your words.

When the naughty nun was relaxed again, you lowered your head into her abdomen and sucked the wine that had stained her skin. Some breathy moans left her mouth as you sucked the red wine on her skin, especially at the sensitivity of her stomach. Groans left your mouth at the feeling of her warm skin. You sucked and even licked her skin until there was no trace of any liquid ever being there.

Your hand made contact with her black panties, making your cock twitch when you felt how drenched in her arousal fluids they were. The touch of your fingers on the cotton fabric that separates you from her entrance was enough to make her moan.

"Hurry the fuck up." Wanda cried when you teased her by rubbing your fingers on the fabric.

"What would your fellow sisters say with that vocabulary of yours?" You grabbed her panties from the waist and gently pulled them off her.

"I don't know. You're the one who is said not to worry about what other people say." Wanda raised her legs to assist you in removing her panties.

You passed your fingers on the top of her exposed entrance that was glistening with her wetness. Wanda mouthed a moan. "Nice to know that you do listen to me." You remarked.

Wanda moaned as you rubbed her entrance. "Fuck." She Let out when you started rubbing her clit followed by other curse words. Shaking her legs at the sensation. Her losing control gave you ideas. Without warning, you inserted two fingers into her entrance. Her sudden gasp turned into repeated moans when you started pumping your fingers into her fast. "Just like that." She begged, feeling you increase your pace. "Cum for me, nun." You groaned, feeling her walls tighten around your fingers, followed by a loud moan of hers and then the feeling of her warm fluids coming out of her pussy, getting all over your hand and staining the bed.

You brought your hand up to you and licked off her cum, savoring the taste.

You unbuckle your belt and slide off your jeans, accompanied by your boxers. Finally, let out your hardened cock, twitching at the thought of being inside Wanda.

"Show me how much you wanted this." You lay in the bed, inviting the sex-starved nun to get on top of you. She crawled on top of you, her legs on each side of your thighs. "I'll make you lose control." She smirked, looking down at you. Her confidence in her voice piqued your curiosity and even increased your need for her. "Show, not tell." You countered, also smirking and running your hand through her legs.

Letting out a low moan when you felt her soft hand grabbed your hardened cock and gave it a few slow strokes before aligning it with her entrance. She kept looking down, breathing out moans when she rubbed your tip with her slit and slowly took your whole length. "Ahh." Similar moans and some groans came out of your and Wanda's mouths as she felt your length go deeper while you felt her wet walls around your cock. You melted at the unknown energy she had. Almost as if it was another person.

You were left in a trance as you felt her soft, warm walls surrounding your cock that you overlooked when she bent down to whisper in your ear. "Let me know if you can't handle it." You weren't able to process her words once she started rocking back and forth on your cock at a slow pace to accustom to your size.

"You're a demon in disguise, huh?" You groaned at her sensual actions. Wanda placed her hands on your chest. "Let's find out." She started moving at a faster pace, waves of pleasure going through both your bodies. Wanda whimpered as she repeatedly sank into your cock. The view it gave you was mesmerizing as the way her breasts bounced, which impulsed you into grabbing them again. Kneading and teasing her perked nipples. "Keep going." She encouraged you in a breathy voice, inviting you to do more with her.

Wanting more of her body, your hands left her breast and, out of instinct, reached for her ass and held her with a tight grip stopping her movements.

"You might hurt me," Wanda teased in a raspy voice between breaths, coming to a stop and having an idea of what you were about to do. "Too late to back out now." You stretched her bum a bit before and, with no warning, pumped your cock as deeply as possible into her needy pussy. The noises of your hips hitting hers just right were barely audible as the repeated moans were louder. You continued until another sexy idea popped into your mind.

Out of nowhere, you turned her over and pinned her down on the bed without pulling out of the pretty nun. She yelped at the sudden action and breathed a bit to regain herself. Your eyes locked with hers; she was panting, sweat rolling down her face. Despite your initial thought, she wasn't amused. "You love being deep inside me." She muttered, making you lose any sense of control you had left in you.

You began moving your hips, pushing your cock deep in Wanda as much as you could at a pace that even made the bed creak. Wanda's hands gripped your biceps tightly as you started hitting the right spot. The sound of her moans and skin-to-skin contact pushed you to increase your pace; at the same time, her nails started digging into your skin; you were too lost in the pleasure even to notice it.

The good sensation of her walls clenching on you announced what was coming, so you didn't stop. You wanted to feel every last bit of her like she did of you. Wanda let out a high-pitched moan as you felt her warm juices fall on your cock, announcing her release of pleasure that you had helped build up. You stayed there on top of her, still hard, waiting for her to regain her breath. Needless to say that you were euphoric to release as well, which led you to pull out of her gently, and after giving yourself a few strokes, you reached your high as thick ropes of your cum landed just outside Wanda's entrance and her inner thighs. You Guessed this was the closest to getting to heaven as you can get.

"Fuck.. that was.. was great." Wanda panted, looking up to see you trying to smile while you regained your breath, then gently moved off her to lay beside her. You would follow up on what she said, but she stood up and went to the bathroom. "You alright?" You asked, concerned that you might have hurt her with your roughness. But again, no response from her.

You got up and followed her into the bathroom after sliding on your boxers, where Wanda had gotten one of your towels to clean herself up. You stood there waiting for her to acknowledge you, but she did not react as if you weren't there. You sighed before taking the initiative to break the uncomfortable silence. "Hey." You spoke almost like a middle schooler talking with their crush for the first time.

The nun stopped her actions, looking down after finally acknowledging you. Wanda sighed and looked back up at the mirror in front. "It's just," She gritted her teeth. "Fuck," She muttered, letting the towel hit the floor. "I have to return to my boring life as a nun." Her words expressed impotence and frustration.

You stayed quiet, imagining Wanda's daily torment of being somewhere she didn't want. A literal place that can be a dream killer. Well, you didn't have to. Living in the same old boring town took away your will to live mentally. But it was nothing compared to what Wanda has been through.

"Maybe you don't have to, Wanda," You picked up the towel and put it around Wanda's shoulder to cover her. Your words made her look at you with curiosity and perhaps a bit of hope, which she needed at this time. "Why don't we leave this shitty place together?" You offered, as shock and confusion plastered on her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, still trying to understand what you had said.

"Fuck whatever we have here. Let's leave somewhere else where we can be ourselves and leave all this behind." You said as you realized what some of her concerns could be. Also, the fact that you barely knew each other. "There is no easy way to explain, but just think about it."

Wanda said nothing but was attentive to your words. She said nothing at first, but the smile that started to creep on her face was enough to confirm that she had already made her decision, and it would be one that would change something for both.

[pedropascallme]

Stupid For You

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: “‘What do you think, kid? Do I sound like your dad?’”

Warnings: Use of gendered titles (“wife” and “mother”) but otherwise just longing and a little fluff?

AN: Read part two here

Soundtrack: Stupid For You by Waterparks

“I could bring you in warm…or I could bring you in cold…” You hopped around in Din’s old chest plate, doing your best impression of the Mandalorian as Grogu watched on, gurgling happily and reaching up for you.

“What do you think, kid? Do I sound like your dad?” You picked him up, cradling him in your arms as he continued to babble nonsense. You had finally figured out, after days of being unable to stop him from crying, that all the baby really wanted was his father. It had been an accident that you had found out, really; it just happened that Grogu had gotten himself stuck in an old pauldron, and it just happened that you really wanted to try on some of the armor for yourself, and it just happened that you had to bring the kid everywhere with you—otherwise you would end up in a ship piloted by a wild-child who enjoyed tearing apart anything he could reach with his tiny baby hands.

Din had been gone, what, four days now? Not too bad. He had been gone longer before. He often returned to the ship after a little over a week, battered and bruised, and all you had to do was make sure his son was fed and happy. You were essentially just a glorified babysitter, although sometimes you liked to think of yourself as a sort of makeshift mother; you really did love the kid. Still, the longer you spent on the Crest, the longer you cared for the child, the longer you spent time with Din, growing increasingly fond of the few words you shared with each other (including a few in what you assumed was Mando’a that you couldn’t understand. What in the fresh hell was a “mesh’la”?) you couldn’t help but…miss him?

It was stupid. You were stupid. You knew his given name, and you knew he was a Mandalorian, and you knew his freak baby was capable of a little too much. Everything else was more or less a mystery to you. He seemed to like it that way, and you weren’t really in any position to change it at all. Making any move he was uncomfortable with could result in losing your job, the one true connection to anybody else that you had. Maker, you had seen what Din could do; worst case scenario you’d end up in carbonite. And, really, what would the galaxy’s scariest bounty hunter want with a wife? Not that you were thinking that far in advance, but weren’t you?

Stupid.

The child yawned, big eyes drooping slightly as you walked him to his floating bassinet. He continued to try to keep conversation with you, small patu noises here and there.

“I hear ya,” you placed him down, “but how about we continue this conversation at a later date?” He squawked and you put your hands on your hips, jutting out your knee in an attempt to properly emulate Din. Grogu made a sound that seemed like a laugh, eyes closing slowly as he tried to fight off his drowsiness. 

“This is The Way.” You whispered to him, still trying to bring him peace of mind by pretending. You could feel that he missed his dad—guardian—whatever—every time Din went out during these long periods. And, hey, pretending to be as fearless and powerful as Din was fun for you, too. It kept you and the baby from going stir-crazy. It made you both feel a little safer when you put on the old, beat-up armor and acted like you were an unstoppable Mandalorian. Grogu’s breathing settled into a soft rhythm, signifying that he had lost his battle with sleep. You closed the top of his crib, turning on your heel.

“Is that what I sound like?”

You stopped in your tracks.

Din stood before you, still as a statue.

“W—I just—”

“I think my voice is deeper.” He walked forward, only taking a few strides before he was directly in front of you. 

“You have a modulator.” You tried your best to avoid his gaze, heat blooming in your cheeks as you had been caught in the act of imitating—mocking—your boss. Your caretaker. Roommate? Boss.

“Mm.” He stood still before reaching his arm out in front of him, a gloved hand making contact with the chest plate you were wearing. He wrapped his knuckles against it, and you felt the vibrations of the metal over your chest. You could feel your heart in your throat. He was back, without any warning, without so much as a hello, and now he was standing before you, this beautiful man without a face, making what must have been the first purposeful physical contact you two had ever had.

“Where did you find this?”

“The-the kid found it. Kept rummaging through your, uh, wardrobe…” You trailed off, unsure if that was the correct word to use for the tiny storage space on the ship that Din had the habit of throwing spare capes and old clothes in. “He likes when I wear it.” You tried to sound like you weren’t pushing down the feeling of intense humiliation.

“You’d make a good Mandalorian.” Din dropped his hand. “It looks good on you, cyare.” 

He stayed in front of you for a few moments, peering through his visor and examining you. After a few moments, he turned, walking away and up to the cockpit.

You stood where he had left you, raising a hand to where he had touched the armor you wore. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid… 

You're playing ring around my head I wear you like a halo You're a symphony, I'm just a sour note

[theendisneat]

"I love you, I love you, I love you." [Dying in their arms]

Warings - Death, mentions of illness and injury, hurt/no comfort

Characters - Xiao, Childe, Kamisato Ayaka, Venti, Scaramouche/Wanderer

Word Count - 1410

Xiao

He held you in his arms. If he wasn’t so concerned with hurting you, even now when blood slid from your lips and down your throat, he would be crushing you against his chest. But his hands cradled your body tenderly, so softly he was practically hovering them around you, not wanting to taint your already dying body with his karma.

Tears gathered in his eyes, but he forced himself not to cry when you two made eye contact. He wanted to, archons he wanted to ball when he saw the light slowly dim from your pretty eyes, the eyes he was admiring not so long ago.

“Why?” He couldn’t help but whisper. “I could’ve protected myself.”

You opened your mouth, only for no sounds to come out on the first try. You swallowed harshly, the taste of blood making you want to vomit, but you didn’t even have the energy for that. “It was instinct.”

It was then Xiao finally let those tears fall. It was instinct? The instinct to protect him? You loved him that much? He hugged you closer, pressing his forehead against your own so he could hear your breaths, your shallow, dying breaths. You protected him, you loved him, and he loved you.

Slowly he kissed your cheek. “I love you.”

Your forehead. “I love you.”

Eyelids. “I love you. I love you.”

And finally, the lips that had taken their last breath. “I love you, so, so, much.”

Childe

Fighting beside you was a dream for him. Both of you engaged in the thrill of battle, taking out enemies side by side with equal grace and power. He loved it, loved seeing you in his domain, loved seeing you kickass. It put a smile on his face knowing his lover was like him, powerful.

But everything powerful eventually falls, and you did it for him. So caught up in the heat of the battle, a rush going throughout his whole body, he didn’t notice the one enemy that was creeping up behind to stab him through the heart, but you did.

You had pushed him out of the way, the sword piercing you like a hot knife through butter, right in the heart where Childe was meant to get hit. The sword was pulled back with a metallic whine as Childe saw red. He doesn’t remember what he did, or what was happening until his body hands were holding your head and pressing down on your heart.

He was mumbling reassurances, desperate pleas to stay by his side and do everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing. Hysterical nonsense was the only thing to be heard besides your quiet breaths and the drip of blood as it painted the field alongside the bodies of the other enemies.

You used the last of your strength to cradle his cheek, accidentally smearing your blood on his pale, flushed face, but neither of you cared. You mumbled out a returning ‘I love you’ as you body went limp and Childe screamed.

Kamisato Ayaka

You didn’t know the woman in front of you, but she obviously knew you with the way she flittered about your room. Was it your room? You couldn’t recall. The memories were hazy, and your limbs were heavy. 

Ayaka had never been more scared out of her mind when Thoma had dragged you home one day saying you had gotten in an altercation with the Tenryou Commision protecting an immigrant merchant and had lost your vision. You had been beaten, that was obvious enough, but what she was really worried about was the lack of vision, with only bad things to say about the condition of those who had lost theirs.

Ayaka was right in her worry as you began to deteriorate before her eyes. You stopped knowing how to get around the house, you lost recognition of some of the house’s staff members, you would wander around, eyes glazed and thoughts foggy. It was only about time when the memories of Thoma, and Ayato, and her started to fade.

You would lean away from her kisses, struggling to remember her name, and stayed in your room when moving became too difficult. Your body was going along with your mind, becoming a corpse right in front of your forgotten lover’s eyes.

When you took your last breath, you were too weak to lean away from Ayaka’s hands. They cupped your face gently, her delicate finger wiping away tears you didn’t know the origin of. The last thing you remember was the sound of her crying, her tears dripping on your face as she hovered over you, desperate to see some last spark in your eyes before they finally went out.

She whispered to your still body. Pleas of adoration for you to come back, to open your eyes and look at her with recognition and love once more, but you couldn’t, and she knew that, and it only made her cry harder.

Venti

Your head was in his lap, hair spread across his thighs haphazardly as he caressed your face with such gentleness it felt like a morning breeze. You could feel the pain anymore, the one that had traveled through your abdomen to your heart. It had been stabbing in tune with the beat of your heart, but now, laying here, it didn’t hurt so bad.

The feeling was leaving from your feet, limbs becoming numb. You tried to twitch your fingers to reach up to your beloved’s face. Tears had begun to slide down his cheeks, but a stoic, empty smile was on his face. Why was he crying?

“Are you alright, love?” You had no idea why it took so much effort simply to speak. Your mind had begun to fog, eyes, unknowing to you, had glazed over slightly, making you look like a doll.

“Yeah.” Venti murmured, trying to make his smile more joyful, but you could hear the lingering brokenness in his voice. “Everything’s alright darling.”

“Why’re you cryin’ then?” Venti heard the slurring of your voice and had to bite down a new wave of tears. He thumbed the skin under your eye, rubbing away any lasting tears of pain.

“I’m just so happy to see you again. You’ve been off on your adventures. It’s nice to see you back home ya know?”

Venti leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t you go to sleep darling? We can do something fun in the morning.”

“Okay.” You felt exhaustion settling in your bones, going limp entirely now. Black spots entered your vision as you felt your consciousness fade. “I love you.”

Venti let out a wet laugh. “I love you too.” And with one final kiss on the cheek, you were gone.

Scaramouche/Wanderer

“You can’t do this to me!” His grip was tight, almost too tight, but you had lost feeling in a lot of your body a long time ago and now a previously bruising grip became a comforting pressure. “You can’t fucking do this to me! Are you going to betray me too? HUH?!”

He couldn’t control himself as you simply sat there, wrapped in your blankets with a content smile on your face. You were leaving him. Didn’t you understand how much it would hurt, living everyday for the rest of eternity wishing you were there?

You had been sick your whole life. No doctor had ever lied to give you hope that you would live past twenty five and so you made the most of your time before you had to move on. Content with death since the moment of your birth, you strayed away from many relationships as they would benefit nobody but misery in the long run. 

But something about Scaramouche just pulled you in.

You gravitated towards him, and he to you. Caught in each other’s orbit you danced for however long you had left. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t enough time. Cradling Scaramouche’s cheeks with your weak hands, you swiped away the ugly tears that marred his beautiful face. Pulling him to your chest, you immediately felt his arms circle your waist.

He tucked his face to the crook of your neck as he cried, pleaded. “Please don’t leave me too. Please, please, please. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

Scaramouche heard as your heart stopped beating, your chest staying still. Your arms fell limp from where they had wrapped around his shoulders in a loose hug.

[gatitties]

hi so can you do a fic where The straw hats thought we died but when they retuned to scabaody we also come back?

Like the straw hats are like

WAIT YOUR NOT DEAD? HUH

─Strawhats x reader

─Summary: Everything seems to fall apart before their eyes when you die, only to find out that you were enjoying yourself in Sabaody and not in your grave.

─Warnings: none

lmao this was fun to write for no reason 😭🤌🏻

The loss of a loved one is a difficult battle, everyone on this crew has experienced at least one death of a family member or someone close to them to call them family, they hoped that pain would not damage their hearts again, unfortunately, you shattered their hearts when they found your limp body on Sky Island when you decided to go your own way.

With their hearts in their throats and their eyes red, they had to say goodbye to you bitterly, burying your body in a cluster of soft clouds, they were silent for a minute until Luffy was the first to give the signal to leave, he knew you would have liked that they were not so sad and that their adventures had not yet ended like yours.

They lamented your lack of presence, you always made everything a little more enjoyable with your nonsense, you managed to fit in perfectly with each of them and although you were not the smartest, most cunning or powerful on the team, they did not expect your early departure.

It was when they arrived at Sabaody for the first time that they thought they were going crazy, thinking that they had gotten over your loss, someone strangely like you seemed to be hanging around that island.

Luffy could clearly see how you were riding some attractions, Nami was confused when she saw you trip over a huge root, Chopper thought that the smell of disinfectant had made him hallucinate and see you eating cotton candy, Usopp simply thought he saw a ghost, Brook thought you came back from the dead to exact revenge when he saw you beating up a couple of guys who seemed to bother you, Franky could only catch your laugh, but it was so similar that he thought his brain was playing tricks on him, Zoro and Sanji bumped into you, but neither you nor they were paying attention as something bigger was catching everyone's attention and practically everyone was jostling each other.

While, oblivious to all the suffering, pain and coping that your companions had to do, you woke up buried in clouds a while ago, managing to get down and reach Sabaody miraculously like a stowaway on another pirate ship, you had planned to look for them and scold them a little for thinking you were dead, but your plans were thwarted when you found the island too much interesting, well, you had been 'dead' for a while, it was okay if you enjoyed a little time at the attractions before looking for your companions.

The thing is that you got so distracted and forgot to find them, if it weren't for the fact that, coincidentally, Jinbe ─who you didn't know since you didn't get to know him─ recognized you from the brief conversations they had with him about you, he was waiting in the queue to buy something and you were just behind, you started a chat to kill time.

"You look terribly like a person who died in the crew I'm part of now, I mean, because of the descriptions they made."

"Oh…"

The blood on your face disappeared at his words, remembering now that you had a crew to return to, and that in fact you were that supposedly dead person, you laughed nervously, wanting to resume your search, although there was no need.

"Hey, Jinbe, here! We were looking for you."

You blinked like an owl as you saw Luffy greet him with his characteristic smile, calming down as you saw the others walking a little further behind calmly, you smiled fondly when you saw them, making eye contact for a second with your captain as you sipped the drink you had gotten before, he casually greeted you by saying your name and you waved back, focused on finishing your drink.

"Wait a moment, you…" he narrowed his eyes looking at you again, drawing the attention of the others "Are you the twin of our dead comrade!?"

You choked on your own drink, Chopper patting you on the back.

"No uh- in fact it's me, the original, only and loved-"

"WEREN'T YOU DEAD!?"

You covered your ears when you heard Nami's scream, your tongue went dry and your body seemed to get smaller when you saw her gaze, everyone had different emotions reflected ─Luffy and Zoro were still a little confused because they really thought you have a twin─ but Nami was the most furious, she started hitting and pushing you.

"GIVE ME BACK THE TEARS I SHED FOR YOU!"

"AW, OH, SORRY!? YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD!"

You ran in circles avoiding the navigator, protecting your head from her light blows while you apologized for not having warned that you 'rose from the dead'.

"Well, who knows, maybe it's a zombie."

"Robin, you're not helping me."

You whimpered, hiding behind Sanji and Franky, waiting for Nami to calm down, it wasn't a reunion like you planned ─you didn't plan anything─ but everyone felt a little relieved, leaving behind the bitterness of losing a partner and enjoying your company now that you were with them again.

[crimsonwritings]

His girl

Pairing: Cassian x female reader

Summary: Cassian finally makes a move on Y/N.

Warnings: reader being insecure about herself, slight mention of body shaming.

Words: 2.4k

A/N: This was written for @starfallweek hosted by @azsazz and @writingsbychlo. Am I entirely happy with it? No. Do I want to be part of this amazing event anyway? Yes.

378 years 4 months and 19 days. That’s how long Cassian had been in love with her. Ever since that day, when Rhysand came back from a visit at the Hewn City with her in his arms, saying that she would stay with them from now on. Her family had seen a potential threat in her, because of the powers she showed. Someone who disturbed the stability of their ridiculous culture. But it was the fact that nobody wanted to marry her that had made her father scream at her, blaming her for the blindness of any potential husband.

Cassian still didn’t understand how anybody could say no to her. Her face wasn’t pretty enough they had said. Her body not tender enough, her teeth not straight enough. As if she was a mare, ready for breeding. Nonsense. He had been captivated by her beauty since the moment he met her and if somebody would have asked him he would have married her right away.

Now he was standing at the bar in the House of Wind, to grab some drinks for himself and his friends and all he could think about was her. He wondered why she still wasn’t here yet. She loved Starfall and she wouldn’t miss it by any chance but maybe something had happened? Should he go check on her? No, she surely had a date anyway who would accompany her. They were probably enjoying some alone time right now before they would eventually show up. Cassian desperately tried not to imagine her kissing somebody else, their hands gliding down that beautiful body, whispering sweet nothings into her ear…

“You know, if you grab that glass any tighter it’ll break.” Cassian jumped at the voice of the shadowsinger behind him.

“Cauldron Az, could you stop sneaking up on me like that?” He turned around to the sight of an amused looking Illyrian.

“Oh believe me, I wasn’t sneaking. You were just so deep in your thoughts that you wouldn’t have realised if a whole army stood behind you.”

“Haha, very funny. What do you even want?” He hated to be moody towards one of his eldest friends, but the picture of the girl he loved in the hands of someone else was still to present in his head.

Azriel didn’t seem to be bothered by it. “Figured you’d need some help carrying five glasses. Though I guess Rhys and Feyre won’t drink something any time soon. They just left. Together.”

The prospect of his brother finally making a move on his mate filled Cassian with excitement. “So you think it’s gonna happen? Rhysie is gonna get his girl?”

Azriel only shrugged his shoulders. For any other person it would have seemed like he didn’t care about Rhysands love life but Cassian knew exactly that the shadowsinger was just as invested in it as him. “The odds are good. But if I were you I wouldn’t be worrying about him but myself. So, are you finally gonna make a move on her tonight?”

The fact that Azriel didn’t even use her name was indicator enough that everyone knew about the Generals hopeless feelings towards her. “Oh common Az, you know she isn’t interested in me that way. I mean we are friends! For almost four centuries we’ve been friends!”

“Really?” A smirk was creeping up on Azriels face as if he knew something Cassian didn’t know.

Frustration streamed through him, he had to put down the drink and hold on to the counter, fearing he might throw the glass at the next wall. “Yes! And it doesn’t matter anyway, because she definitely has a date for tonight.”

“Does she now? Well turn around.” As Cassian did he set his eyes on the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen.

Y/N walked into the room, in a dress that shimmered like the moon itself. It was hugging her beautiful curves, then flowed to the ground from right beneath her hips, getting wider the lower it got. Oh, what he would have given to be the one to help her out of this dress later on. Her hair was pinned up, leaving her long neck on display. Cassian wanted to mark every inch of it with his tongue and teeth, until all the males in Prythian knew that she belonged with him.

His heartbeat rose up at the sight of her. She looked like a freaking goddess, drawing all the attention on her. It seemed like everyone wanted to know who the beautiful girl was. Did she even realise how they were staring at her? Women, who looked like they either wanted to kill her, or be her? Men longing after her, just like he did right now?

If she had noticed the attention lying on her she ignored it, for she strode threw the crowd, chin up, her eyes scanning the room as if she was looking for someone.

But the prettiest sight, even though he hated himself for it, was the fact that there was no other man on her arm. “She is alone!”

Cassian had whispered the words to himself, still in trance from the sight of her. He had not realised that the shadowsinger still stood behind him.“Yep, she is. And I can tell you the exact two reasons why.”

The General couldn’t tear his eyes from her. He feared she would disappear if he did, as if she was only an illusion. Thankfully Azriel seemed to understand as he spoke on without a request. “You do realise that you are literally growling at every male that comes near her? It’s like you are her personal guard dog who is following her around everywhere.”

Now the frustration crept back into Cassian and he broke his stare, trying to ignore the physical pain he felt in his chest while doing so. “Wait, you are making it sound like it’s my fault! Oh great, so she is probably pissed at me too.”

Azriel wore that annoying smirk again, Cassian could have punched him in the face for it. He decided to look at her again instead. “Well, she should be pissed if she really wanted to have somebody else as her date. Yet, she isn’t. Which leads me to reason number two.”

“Oh yeah, and what would that be?”

“The fact that she is so absolutely disinterested in any of those guys that they can see it on her face. She might speak to them and smile at them, but her eyes only ever light up when she looks at you.” As if on clue Y/N’s eyes met Cassian’s and rested there. She was gifting him a radiant smile and her eyes…they glittered as if they held a thousand stars in them. It was that moment he realised that she had been searching the room for him. And that the man who was now laying a scarred hand on his shoulder had been right.

“Please, do us all a favour and go get your girl, brother.” With that Azriel grabbed the drinks for him and Mor and silently made his way back to where their friend was located.

Cassian started to move. He needed to get to her as soon as possible. She was like a magnetic force pulling him to her and it seemed like she might have felt the same as she took her steps in his direction. They never broke eye contact on their sheer never ending way to each other. When they finally met each other in the middle of the room he was so overwhelmed by her presence that he couldn’t say anything but a whispered “Hi”.

She grinned up at him, got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Hi”

Cassian could literally feel the blush threatening to reveal him. He decided to distract her from it. “Didn’t you want to bring someone with you?”

“No, nobody asked me to be honest. But I guess I should have considered that. It’s probably just me…I mean it’s always been that way, right?” Cassian knew that look on her face. He had seen it multiple times, whenever Y/N started to feel low about herself, started to believe those ugly words these men had spoken to her a lifetime ago.

It wasn’t his intention, to make her feel like this on maybe the most important day in her years schedule.

His brain tried to find a solution for the mess he navigated himself into. He wanted to cheer her up, to spend a fairytale like evening with her before he would confess everything he kept secret from her ever since the both of them met.

But his silly little heart acted faster than he could think about something. “I’m asking you!”

“What?” Now it was her turn to blush.

There was no going back now. There would be no perfect timing and no privacy. He would tell her right here, right now, with maybe a hundred people gathering around them, in the middle of the ballroom. And if all of Velaris would call him a lovesick fool by tomorrow so be it. He didn’t give a damn about it. “I’m asking you to be my date!”

There was utter disbelief in her eyes and something that looked like worry. “Cassian, are you drunk or something?”

“Yes I am sweetheart. Drunk on you. But if you mean drunk in the traditional way then no, I’m not.”

“Cassie…” Her bashful gaze dropped to the ground. There was a strain in her voice that almost sounded like sadness, because she was afraid. Afraid that the man in front of her was only playing with her, not meaning anything he said right now.

Another small gesture Cassian recognised about her. It felt like she was a mysterious book, written in a language only he could decipher.

He used his fingers to lift up her chin, desperate for her to see the truth in his eyes.

“I should have asked you that earlier I know that. I wanted to ask you but I was so scared that you would say no and that I would risk whatever we have between us. But tonight I’ve realised what an idiot I’ve been who misinterpreted everything, or at least I hope so because otherwise this could end badly. Well, even if it does I want to say it because you deserve to know how I feel about you and I want you to see what an amazing person you are.”

Cassian had rambled his words so fast, his lungs forced him to take a breath before his crucial statement. “I love you Y/N…So will you give me the honour and make me the happiest man alive by being mine? For Starfall and for eternity?”

Her eyes went wide in surprise, her mouth agape. She looked at him as if he came from another world, as if she had never seen him before. Cassian could almost see her brain trying to realise what he had just said.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood like this, but her silence was killing him. This moment, where he could do nothing but wait for her response that didn’t seem to come. Facing that thing under the library again appeared less stressful than the uncertainty he currently found himself in. “Sweetheart? Not that I want to sound rude, but I think this is the part where you should say something.“

The disbelief in her eyes turned into mischief and before Cassian could register it she was wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him.

He had expected a lot of things. Tears, because he had ruined their friendship. Or that she would burst out into anger, maybe throwing a shoe at his head like Feyre did to Rhysand. That she would never want to see him again. Yet she was kissing him, in front of everyone else. As if she had planned to do it for the longest time. Just like he did.

Kissing her was like everything he expected it to be and more. A thousand butterflies erupted in his stomach, travelling through his body to kiss every part that was him awake. Her fingers tangled in his hair and he moaned into the kiss at the feeling of it. There was a soft voice in his head, singing over and over again. Mine, mine, mine.

The Illyrian already missed her lips when she pulled away, chasing after them to feel the softness again, to taste their sweetness. Cauldron, he was obsessed with her by only one kiss. In that moment she could have told him to jump from the balcony with his wings bound together, like once during the blood rite, he would have done it.

She started to leave soft kisses on his neck, travelling up to his ear, and if the act itself didn’t drive him crazy than her hummed word definitely did. “Yes!”

Cassian couldn’t help but growl at her answer and in the next second he lifted her up and spun her around, enjoying the beautiful sound that was her laughter.

When the music started to play he put her back on her feet. Her hair was now slightly out of place, face a little bit red, but for Cassian she was still stunning. He wanted to take her to his room, to show her just how gorgeous she was in his opinion, but this would have to wait. For this was Starfall and he wanted to spend it with her. So he performed a slight bow in front of her, taking her hand in his to put a light kiss on her knuckles. „Would you like to dance with me, my lady?“

He could have sworn her giggles lit up the whole ball room before she answered him. „I would love to dance with you, General. Until the sun creeps up behind the mountains again.“

And so they did. They were dancing the whole night, never breaking eye contact and only stopped to watch the magnificent sight of the souls travelling along the sky. Later, when the thoughtful celebration had turned into a party, they could be seen dancing with their friends, sharing their luck with them.

The whispers that could be heard throughout Velaris the next day were positive ones, stating what a beautiful couple the both of them made. Although some claimed to have seen the General tackling their High Lord to the ground when he returned with the cursebreaker, laughing and screaming while doing so. “Rhysie! I have a girlfriend now!”

Tags: @hellodarling1357

[writingismyfortune]

new look | dan heng || honkai star rail one shot

published on august 9th, 2023.

pairing: dan heng x reader

genre: fluff

word count: idk, but it’s kind of short?

synopsis: you woke up to your boyfriend, dan heng, in his new form. that’s the gist of it.

warning: lowercase is intended! there’s some slight spoilers from the new story quest (not from a lore standpoint. it’s in terms of bosses and dan heng’s new look). dan heng’s new look has me on a chokehold fr.

hazy vision, heart rate is accelerating…your head is spinning…the strong stench of your blood…your shallow breathing…that’s what you can only focus on.

last time you recall, you were fighting phantylia in her little domain along with general jing yuan. then next thing you knew, your vision went black. the flowers she summoned continues to drain your life, weakening your strength even more. general jing yuan was concerned for your health before the fight, but you said that you were fine.

general jing yuan trusted you, so he allowed you to fight along side him to defeat this lord ravager. he did have a feeling that he shouldn’t have done that though. but you were so persistent on helping jing yuan that he couldn’t say no. that determined look in your eye was so strong and powerful.

before you completely passed out from exhaustion and your injuries, you saw this cyan colored dragon come from the ground…? where did that…come from? who is this cyan dragon? seems like it finished the job of defeating phantylia though.

a tall figure appears in front of you before you completely passed out. his long black hair flows down his back…he stands in front of you protectively…is this a god hearing your blessing? what is going on exactly? who is this guy? why is he protecting you? why is he look so hot- (a/n: just like me fr)

but before you could even process what was happening after phantylia was defeated, you passed out. what a good time to pass out…

without knowing how much time has passed, you woke up in someone’s arms. your vision still a little blurry, you rub your eyes a little to adjust your vision. looking up, you’re met with…oh wait, you remember this guy. recognizing his cyan horns, you wondered if you’re actually dead or something.

staring at him up close, you realize how gorgeous this guy is. his cyan eyes look alluring to look at. no, you’re still loyal to your boyfriend dan heng. however, you can’t help, but admire his features. the gods above must’ve gave him the special treatment. you thought you were in heaven, so you ask a random question out loud.

“am i dead…?”

the unspecified dragon guy looks at you funny, as if he’s silently asking you what do you mean by that question. not only that, he’s confused why you’re asking such a question.

“you’re perfectly alive, [your name]. i was extremely worried about you. you should’ve stayed out of that phantylia fight after you fought off those marastruck…” he responds to your question. wait, how did he know that you were fighting some marastruck soldiers…? there’s no other way…unless…

“what. how did you know that? i am dead, aren’t i…you’re some unknown aeon, aren’t you?” the dragon looking guy looks at you with his eyebrows furrowing, he’s so confused.

“did something hit your head? you’re spouting complete nonsense again,” he asks you. he continues speaking, looking up at the clear skies. “to be fair, you’re always speaking nonsense from time to time. not only that, you did just woke up. anyways, phantylia is defeated now…hopefully xianzhou is safe now.” he said lightly with this slight hopeful tone in his voice. he adds this sweet line after, which completely makes your heart skip a beat.

“and i’m relieved that you’re okay, [your name].”

huh…so this dragon guy knows your name and he’s also very sweet with you. that’s kind of suspicious, you thought. in addition, this is the first time that you’ve seen him in your life. so really, you find this weird. but do you mind it? kind of, you feel like you’re cheating on your boyfriend, dan heng. well, at least you’ll have stories to tell once you come back to the astral express.

you can’t wait to tell dan heng what happened today…you considered that he might get slightly jealous over this dragon dude though, which you are excited to see.

you grab your phone and start texting dan heng, telling him about your adventures. you then hear a ringtone from the dragon guy’s pocket…

the dragon guy grabs his phone and looks at the notification he just received. you stare at the phone case…you’ve seen that phone case before…that’s the same one that dan heng has.

that normal black phone case? yeah, you can recognize that bland ass phone case from anywhere. you tried to convince him to change it into something more cooler, but dan heng didn’t want to as the phone case is still functional.

the dragon guy then looks at you, one of his eyebrows raising in curiosity.

“[your name], why did you send me a message when we’re literally next to each other? you could’ve just told me your adventures face to face…you don’t have to text me about it.”

“huh, what did you say?” you responded, your expression immediately looks confused. and then…oh shit.

that’s when you realized…that’s when you connected two and two together…wait a minute.

“wait…you’re dan heng?” you asked the dragon guy. in reaction to your question, his cheeks immediately flushed. his eyes dart to the side, avoiding any eye contact with you.

“no way. you’re actually dan heng…like my boyfriend, dan heng?” you ask again, your eyes are wide in excitement. they sparkle in delight.

“…i know i look different, but yes. i’m the dan heng you know and love, [your name].”

“oh my aeons.” you said softly, clearly still very flabbergasted to know this fact.

“i was scared you wouldn’t like my new look…but i had to confirm it with you.” dan heng exclaims. his eyes look elsewhere, deep in thought about something. then he looks at you, he’s slightly pouting. it’s very subtle, but you know it’s there.

“you didn’t even recognize it was me…do i really look that different?” he asks you. “i can’t change back to my original form even if i wanted to…” he adds.

you shake your head without hesitation with this knowing grin on your face.

“you do look different, but not in a bad way. in fact, i think i dig this new look actually.”

dan heng clears his throat at your bold compliment, trying to keep his composure. you stare at his cyan horns, in which, he notices.

“do you want to touch my horns?” dan heng asks you as he puts you down on your feet. he brings his head down a little, letting you touch them. he looks at you expectedly.

you look so excited to touch his horns, your eyes sparkling. glancing up at dan heng, you ask him if he’s really okay with you patting his horns, for a final confirmation. dan heng gives you a nod with this warm smile, saying that he’s perfectly fine with you patting his horns.

and so you reach over and pet his horns gently…they were a little rough around the edges and they’re very dense and strong. they have a similar texture to horns of a goat or a reindeer, if that makes any sense.

you notice that dan heng’s big, cyan dragon tail is wagging a little…it’s clear he enjoys you patting his horns like this. finding this cute, you continue patting his horns gently, your fingers moving along his strong cyan horns.

“your touch is very gentle, my dear.” dan heng says softly, his cyan eyes look at you with warmth. you continue patting his horns, a satisfied grin on your face, clearly happy to see that your boyfriend is comfortable.

“you know, before you identified yourself, i felt like i was cheating on you…even though there wasn’t anything happening.” you said, still patting his horns. “i mean, i found you attractive…but it appears that it was you all along, dan heng. turns out i just fell for you again~”

dan heng’s cheeks go a little red again hearing this, but he’s very happy to hear that. it appears he softens up with it comes to you. otherwise, he isn’t easily flustered…it’s just that his reserved demeanor falls right off when it comes to you.

in addition, your touch makes him turn into putty. he’s so whipped for you. he’s also glad that you love this new look of his…maybe he’ll keep it around for the time being (once he finds out how to change back), just to see your excited smile again when you pat his horns. he loves it when your eyes light up when you touch his horns, your soft and gentle touch full of affection and love.

back then, he wasn’t very fond of this new look as it reminded him of his treacherous past that he ran away from. but now…it seems like…

it seems like he has a reason to love this new look. you made him love himself even more. not only that, he continuously falls for you little by little every single day.

his new look doesn’t only define his past anymore. it defines his future too. it's now something that makes you happy. for once, he appreciates this new look of his.

maybe his new look isn’t so bad after all.

end of one shot. next chapter: n/a

[facets-and-rainbows]

In honor of Blue Exorcist season 3, I need everyone to appreciate the

ABSOLUTE

UNMITIGATED

FURIGANA

NONSENSE

that is going on in its pv.

Like, background info: in Japanese they have both phonetic characters (kana) and characters with both a sound AND a meaning (kanji). Sometimes they put little kana above/next to the kanji to tell you how to pronounce them - these are called furigana and they're mostly used for obscure kanji that most people don't know, or in things aimed at young readers who might not know that many kanji in general yet.

But sometimes people get...creative with furigana. Especially in manga and light novels and the like.

See, at some point people figured out that you can totally create words with double meanings, or say one thing and mean another, by using furigana that don't actually match the kanji they're with. Some examples:

In Blue Exorcist, Rin's "flame" is spelled 炎（ちから）- the kanji says "flame(s)" but the furigana is the word "power." Rin's power, aka flames. Two words for the price of one!

Things with names in foreign languages will often have kanji that show the word's meaning in Japanese with furigana that spell out the pronunciation, like the "exorcist" in Blue Exorcist being spelled 祓魔師（エクソシスト). Those kanji mean exorcise-demon-professional, roughly, and they'd normally be pronounced futsumashi. But the furigana say "ekusoshisuto" - the English word "exorcist."

@29rynoah has a great post [here] (Blue Exorcist manga spoilers!) about a time when Rin said "you" but actually meant "me," and spelled it 俺（おまえ）with the kanji for "me" and furigana spelling out "you."

And then there's the EGREGIOUS FURIGANA SHENANIGANS happening up there in the season 3 pv. Where they take the kanji for darkness 闇 and tell us to pronounce it as THE WHOLE OTHER COMPLETELY OPPOSITE KANJI 光 (LIGHT) and vice versa.

闇（光）を斬り、光（闇）を祓え

Meaning something like:

Slash through the darkness light and dispel the light darkness

Presumably because the dark forces threatening the main characters this arc are actually quite bright, as we shall see.

Clever! But also RIDICULOUS GUYS COME ON

[roseapov]

Empress

Claude de Alger Obelia x F!Reader

Tw: sexual themes, obsession, implied kidnapping, arranged marriage and pregnancy

! Sexual themes ! 13+ !

Povtober 2023, Day 14 [Masterlist]

You, a second-in-line royal, neglected by your family. The audacity of your family to do so, as they were ruling over a small kingdom, completely insignificant with the comparison to the whole continent.

Your kingdom is only still standing cause of one condition made by the Obelian Empire. As long as you were to be engaged and later married to the Obelian Emperor, your country will continue to stand strong, with the help of a powerful empire.

However if the conditions were to be broken off, everyone in your land would suffer a great loss, being led to a war with a completely crushing opponent, that would weep out your homeland in a week, if they so desired.

And yet you still got mistreated, even as a peace keeper. One day, when you had enough of it, you run away, or at least planned to. Your escape plan seemed decent with a big chance for success, as your wing of the castle was almost empty, with most of the servants in your parents and older sibling side.

On the same day the said emperor came to your castle to talk about the marriage details. When you tried to sneak off through the royal gardens, you got stopped by some unknown man with blonde hair and blue jeweled eyes.

Tossing from side to side, desperately trying to run away from his grasp, chanting like a mantra that you wanted to leave this place forever. Eventually you became tired and with this man unrelenting grip, falling asleep in his arms.

The next moment you wake up, you're in bed with that mysterious man from the last night, being dangerously close to each other.

Later on you found out, you were taken to the Obelian Empire as a future empress, and the man you woke up to was the emperor.

And... You don't want to know what happened to your kingdom.. That's the safest option to choose!

Ever since your arrival you finally got treated like a real royalty, being drowned by all that valuables and attentiveness of the servants and guards.

The man, whose name you learned to be Claude, never really left your side ever since. You had a hard time warming up to him, even when he took you away from your family, his cold glare scaring you endlessly.

Shortly after your arrival, the marriage and coronation came shortly after. People welcoming you with open arms and a great amount of hope, that you will be able to tame their ruler.

Claude was very attentive to you, seeing your every little discomfort, swiftly disposing of its source. Example?

When you didn't like the food the chef cooked, and Claude ordering to execute him. That's the exact part when you step in, pleading him to spare this poor soul. To everyone's surprise he indeed listened to you and left this person alive.

From that day onward you earned the utmost respect and adoration from your subjects, being known for your benevolence towards anyone, no matter their status but also the ability to calm down the tyrant emperor.

But after a while of your reign with Claude came the question of the children. As a married man Claude has slayed all of his concubines, just for you, which left you scared and speechless, to discard someone's life so easily, how.. vicious.

As a ruler without concubines and children, he had to, well.. make some. Preferably with the empress, but some other women would do the thing too, no they wouldn't, he killed everyone seconds after these words left their mouths.

The fact that they had the audacity to suggest him making future heirs with someone else? Truly outrageous, they met an end they deserved.

To make all that nonsense quiet you don't have a choice and decide with your husband that it is time to make a royal heir. You're doing that only because it's a part of your royal duties, but don't worry your husband knows it and just pretends that you want it as much as he does.

During this time, he would constantly cling to you and if it were for him, you wouldn't need to stand up from the bed at all, which you rarely did anyway.

He threatened everyone with death if you were to leave your shared bedroom.

He greatly enjoyed your baby making process, taking in all of you. Your expression and sounds you made, he has it all detaily memorized.

Being even more intoxicated with you, and when you tried to muffle your moans, he got even harsher, considering it disrespecting the emperor and denying his wishes.

He became ruthless, telling you how lucky you are that he favors you, that anyone else in your place would be already dead. You should be thankful you haven't met this horrible end, and yet you still have the audacity to disobey him, truly bold of you, Empress.

Let him put you in your place, always beneath him.

If you do get pregnant, you'll forget what it was like to have a moment for yourself. Now you're under the watching gaze of Claude as he doesn't let you do anything at all. While always standing right by your side, watching you as your belly gets rounder with every passing week.

That child will be the next ruler of the Obelian Empire, it will be yours child, yours and his.

A living proof that you decided was forced to make love with him, a living proof that you were all his and he all yours, till the end of the time, saved in the history for all to read.

I went all out on this one which is weird since I had 0 thoughts after my sickness, but I'm not complaining🤭 This came out mostly 'you' centered, so I'm sorry to everyone who didn't liked that, it was an accident🙏 I tried making it more Claude centered by making this fic longer, to conceal the 'you' centered part, but I don't know how well I pulled that off 👀 Feedback is greatly appreciated💛

~roseapov

[biceratops7]

… let’s talk about “Arrival”

So I was fully intending on making a more general but thorough peruse through the new Good Omens title sequence, because my FUCK aren’t those always a gold mine. But then I thought to myself, “hey wait a minute, I can be even more unhinged and on brand.”

Something I’ve seen nobody talk about yet is that the movie that the procession is marching into is The Arrival, which is a 90’s movie that draws a pretty straightforward parallel. But I think if it doubles as a reference to 2016’s Arrival, THAT has some much more interesting implications. Either way this reference is doing some heavy lifting.

For those who haven’t seen the movie (or that one philosophy tube video about it lol), the basic plot is that a group of aliens later named heptopods arrive on earth scattered across the world, and just kind of invite humanity to check them out. Each country hires a team of linguists who are all tasked with figuring out what the visitors are here for. But the thing is, it’s only about aliens on the surface level. This is really about communicating, cooperation, and how language holds the power to alter your very fabric of reality.

Spoilers for the movie:

Two major revelations occur towards the end of the movie. The first is that an element of fluid time is revealed. Throughout the movie, the main American linguist has been having flashbacks to a daughter that passed away of an illness. But since the heptopod language has no regard for chronological order, we learn that these are actually flash-forwards when she becomes nearly fluent. In other words, learning heptopod, having a genuine curiosity and even compassion for these vastly different beings. has given her the ability to perceive reality in ways thought previously impossible.

Even before noticing the Arrival reference, I’ve been side eyeing these “flashbacks”, but this and the image above confirmed it for me. Any instance of the word “becoming” when talking about the past indicates some sort of fluid time nonsense. The past is fixed unless something ✨happens✨. I don’t think these are simply memories, I think something rather cosmic instead is afoot.

But it’s more than just “there’s probably time travel in this” though. Simply having Aziraphale as a companion has changed Crowley. It’s given him an ability that he’s not meant to be capable of as a demon. He already had it in him to be good and have mutual relationships based in trust and kindness, I’m sure all demons can if given the right nurture… but Crowley is experiencing love. In the show, something tangible to the senses and distinctly angelic. I’m very much hoping that that whole element of things is going to somehow be a driving factor in what’s occurring over all, and possibly involved in time going screwy.

The other element of Arrival’s ending that’s of import, is the heavy emphasis on the importance of cooperation. First of all, we learn at some point that not every country has the same message to decipher, they each have one piece of a whole. Some of the countries begin using games to communicate with their heptopods, and this poses a problem because it causes messages to be more easily interpreted as hostile. For example, the phrase “we brought a tool” can be easily misconstrued as “we have a weapon.” Eventually, the world gets impatient and scared, and a war is imminent. What finally leads to everyone putting down arms and cooperating, is the American linguist sending a message to the Chinese linguist saying “in war, there are no victors, only widows.”

Something noteworthy about this particular march is that the procession never splits like it does at the end of the first season’s. Not only are both angelic and demonic figures marching into the light atop a mountain as a United front, but this actually seems to be a theme this season. Heaven and Hell aren’t working together as far as we know, but they are at least working towards the same goal, which for some reason is getting Gabriel’s ass. There is also a heavy emphasis on mending broken relationships, with Crowley and Azirphale trying to fix a (probably) lesbian couple literally being the B plot.

Now this is where we bring in what’s actually on the movie screen, which is that damn box. So at this point we know basically nothing about it accept for it probably being a Mcguffin. But we DO have the imagery of three feathers, a black one, a white one, and a bluish grey one, falling into it… and it sure as fuck looks like a moving box. So back to arrival, what actually was the message? The heptopods told the linguist that they’re here to help humanity (via giving them a tool or new tech I think?) because in 3,000 years, they will need humanity’s help. So with this and the world eventually being inspired to stand down and share their pieces of the message, it’s this over arching theme of setting aside fear of the other and cooperating indefinitely for the benefit of the whole. The black feather, the white feather… and then something that is somehow both yet entirely unique.

I think… somehow, someway, this season may culminate in Heaven and Hell reconciling. Whether it be against a common enemy, for a shared goal, or in love, there seems to be many clues both symbolic and literal that show them learning to be one again. Learning to understand eachother’s language and see new ways of being neither before could fathom.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Twinkfrump Linkdump

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in CHICAGO (Apr 17), Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Welcome to the seventeenth Pluralistic linkdump, a collection of all the miscellany that didn't make it into the week's newsletter, cunningly wrought together in a single edition that ranges from the first ISP to AI nonsense to labor organizing victories to the obituary of a brilliant scientist you should know a lot more about! Here's the other 16 dumps:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

If you're reading this (and you are!), it was delivered to you by an internet service provider. Today, the ISP industry is calcified, controlled by a handful of telcos and cable companies. But the idea of an "ISP" didn't come out of a giant telecommunications firm – it was created, in living memory, by excellent nerds who are still around.

Depending on how you reckon, The Little Garden was either the first or the second ISP in America. It was named after a Palo Alto Chinese restaurant frequented by its founders. To get a sense of that founding, read these excellent recollections by Tom Jennings, whose contributions include the seminal zine Homocore, the seminal networking protocol Fidonet, and the seminal third-party PC ROM, whence came Dell, Gateway, Compaq, and every other "PC clone" company.

The first installment describes how an informal co-op to network a few friends turned into a business almost by accident, with thousands of dollars flowing in and out of Jennings' bank account:

https://www.sensitiveresearch.com/Archive/TLG/TLG.html

And it describes how that ISP set a standard for neutrality, boldly declaring that "TLGnet exercises no control whatsoever over the content of the information." They introduced an idea of radical transparency, documenting their router configurations and other technical details and making them available to the public. They hired unskilled punk and queer kids from their communities and trained them to operate the network equipment they'd invented, customized or improvised.

In part two, Jennings talks about the evolution of TLG's radical business-plan: to offer unrestricted service, encouraging their customers to resell that service to people in their communities, having no lock-in, unbundling extra services including installation charges – the whole anti-enshittification enchilada:

https://www.sensitiveresearch.com/Archive/TLG/

I love Jennings and his work. I even gave him a little cameo in Picks and Shovels, the third Martin Hench novel, which will be out next winter. He's as lyrical a writer about technology as you could ask for, and he's also a brilliant engineer and thinker.

The Little Garden's founders and early power-users have all fleshed out Jennings' account of the birth of ISPs. Writing on his blog, David "DSHR" Rosenthal rounds up other histories from the likes of EFF co-founder John Gilmore and Tim Pozar:

https://blog.dshr.org/2024/04/the-little-garden.html

Rosenthal describes some of the more exotic shenanigans TLG got up to in order to do end-runs around the Bell system's onerous policies, hacking in the purest sense of the word, for example, by daisy-chaining together modems in regions with free local calling and then making "permanent local calls," with the modems staying online 24/7.

Enshittification came to the ISP business early and hit it hard. The cartel that controls your access to the internet today is a billion light-years away from the principled technologists who invented the industry with an ethos of care, access and fairness. Today's ISPs are bitterly opposed to Net Neutrality, the straightforward proposition that if you request some data, your ISP should send it to you as quickly and reliably as it can.

Instead, ISPs want to offer "slow-lanes" where they will relegate the whole internet, except for those companies that bribe the ISP to be delivered at normal speed. ISPs have a laughably transparent way of describing this: they say that they're allowing services to pay for "fast lanes" with priority access. This is the same as the giant grocery store that charges you extra unless you surrender your privacy with a "loyalty card" – and then says that they're offering a "discount" for loyal customers, rather than charging a premium to customers who don't want to be spied on.

The American business lobby loves this arrangement, and hates Net Neutrality. Having monopolized every sector of our economy, they are extremely fond of "winner take all" dynamics, and that's what a non-neutral ISP delivers: the biggest services with the deepest pockets get the most reliable delivery, which means that smaller services don't just have to be better than the big guys, they also have to be able to outbid them for "priority carriage."

If everything you get from your ISP is slow and janky, except for the dominant services, then the dominant services can skimp on quality and pocket the difference. That's the goal of every monopolist – not just to be too big to fail, but also too big to care.

Under the Trump administration, FCC chair Ajit Pai dismantled the Net Neutrality rule, colluding with American big business to rig the process. They accepted millions of obviously fake anti-Net Neutrality comments (one million identical comments from @pornhub.com addresses, comments from dead people, comments from sitting US Senators who support Net Neutrality) and declared open season on American internet users:

https://ag.ny.gov/press-release/2021/attorney-general-james-issues-report-detailing-millions-fake-comments-revealing

Now, Biden's FCC is set to reinstate Net Neutrality – but with a "compromise" that will make mobile internet (which nearly all of use sometimes, and the poorest of us are reliant on) a swamp of anticompetitive practices:

https://cyberlaw.stanford.edu/blog/2024/04/harmful-5g-fast-lanes-are-coming-fcc-needs-stop-them

Under the proposed rule, mobile carriers will be able to put traffic to and from apps in the slow lane, and then extort bribes from preferred apps for normal speed and delivery. They'll rely on parts of the 5G standard to pull off this trick.

The ISP cartel and the FCC insist that this is fine because web traffic won't be degraded, but of course, every service is hellbent on pushing you into using apps instead of the web. That's because the web is an open platform, which means you can install ad- and privacy-blockers. More than half of web users have installed a blocker, making it the largest boycott in human history:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

But reverse-engineering and modding an app is a legal minefield. Just removing the encryption from an app can trigger criminal penalties under Section 1201 of the DMCA, carrying a five-year prison sentence and a $500k fine. An app is just a web-page skinned in enough IP that it's a felony to mod it.

Apps are enshittification's vanguard, and the fact that the FCC has found a way to make them even worse is perversely impressive. They're voting on this on April 25, and they have until April 24 to fix this. They should. They really should:

https://docs.fcc.gov/public/attachments/DOC-401676A1.pdf

In a just world, cheating ripoff ISPs would the top tech policy story. The operational practices of ISPs effect every single one us. We literally can't talk about tech policy without ISPs in the middle. But Net Neutrality is an also-ran in tech policy discourse, while AI – ugh ugh ugh – is the thing none of us can shut up about.

This, despite the fact that the most consequential AI applications sum up to serving as a kind of moral crumple-zone for shitty business practices. The point of AI isn't to replace customer service and other low-paid workers who have taken to demanding higher wages and better conditions – it's to fire those workers and replace them with chatbots that can't do their jobs. An AI salesdroid can't sell your boss a bot that can replace you, but they don't need to. They only have to convince your boss that the bot can do your job, even if it can't.

SF writer Karl Schroeder is one of the rare sf practitioners who grapples seriously with the future, a "strategic foresight" guy who somehow skirts the bullshit that is the field's hallmark:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/07/the-gernsback-continuum/#wheres-my-jetpack

Writing on his blog, Schroeder describes the AI debates roiling the Association of Professional Futurists, and how it's sucking him into being an unwilling participant in the AI hype cycle:

https://kschroeder.substack.com/p/dragged-into-the-ai-hype-cycle

Schroeder's piece is a thoughtful meditation on the relationship of SF's thought-experiments and parables about AI to the promises of AI hucksters, who promise that a) "general artificial intelligence" is just around the corner and that b) it will be worth trillions of dollars.

Schroeder – like other sf writers including Ted Chiang and Charlie Stross (and me) – comes to the conclusion that AI panic isn't about AI, it's about power. The artificial life-form devouring the planet and murdering our species is the limited liability corporation, and its substrate isn't silicon, it's us, human bodies:

What’s lying underneath all our anxieties about AGI is an anxiety that has nothing to do with Artificial Intelligence. Instead, it’s a manifestation of our growing awareness that our world is being stolen from under us. Last year’s estimate put the amount of wealth currently being transferred from the people who made it to an idle billionaire class at $5.2 trillion. Artificial General Intelligence whose environment is the server farms and sweatshops of this class is frightening only because of its capacity to accelerate this greatest of all heists.

After all, the business-case for AI is so very thin that the industry can only survive on a torrent of hype and nonsense – like claims that Amazon's "Grab and Go" stores used "AI" to monitor shoppers and automatically bill them for their purchases. In reality, the stores used thousands of low-paid Indian workers to monitor cameras and manually charge your card. This happens so often that Indian technologists joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Isn't it funny how all the really promising AI applications are in domains that most of us aren't qualified to assess? Like the claim that Google's AI was producing millions of novel materials that will shortly revolutionize all forms of production, from construction to electronics to medical implants:

https://deepmind.google/discover/blog/millions-of-new-materials-discovered-with-deep-learning/

That's what Google's press-release claimed, anyway. But when two groups of experts actually pulled a representative sample of these "new materials" from the Deep Mind database, they found that none of these materials qualified as "credible, useful and novel":

https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/acs.chemmater.4c00643

Writing about the researchers' findings for 404 Media, Jason Koebler cites Berkeley researchers who concluded that "no new materials have been discovered":

https://www.404media.co/google-says-it-discovered-millions-of-new-materials-with-ai-human-researchers/

The researchers say that AI data-mining for new materials is promising, but falls well short of Google's claim to be so transformative that it constitutes the "equivalent to nearly 800 years’ worth of knowledge" and "an order-of-magnitude expansion in stable materials known to humanity."

AI hype keeps the bubble inflating, and for so long as it keeps blowing up, all those investors who've sunk their money into AI can tell themselves that they're rich. This is the essence of "a bezzle": "The magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

Among the best debezzlers of AI are the Princeton Center for Information Technology Policy's Arvind Narayanan and Sayash Kapoor, who edit the "AI Snake Oil" blog. Now, they've sold a book with the same title:

https://www.aisnakeoil.com/p/ai-snake-oil-is-now-available-to

Obviously, books move a lot more slowly than blogs, and so Narayanan and Kapoor say their book will focus on the timeless elements of identifying and understanding AI snake oil:

In the book, we explain the crucial differences between types of AI, why people, companies, and governments are falling for AI snake oil, why AI can’t fix social media, and why we should be far more worried about what people will do with AI than about anything AI will do on its own. While generative AI is what drives press, predictive AI used in criminal justice, finance, healthcare, and other domains remains far more consequential in people’s lives. We discuss in depth how predictive AI can go wrong. We also warn of the dangers of a world where AI continues to be controlled by largely unaccountable big tech companies.

The book's out in September and it's up for pre-order now:

https://bookshop.org/p/books/ai-snake-oil-what-artificial-intelligence-can-do-what-it-can-t-and-how-to-tell-the-difference-arvind-narayanan/21324674

One of the weirder and worst side-effects of the AI hype bubble is that it has revived the belief that it's somehow possible for giant platforms to monitor all their users' speech and remove "harmful" speech. We've tried this for years, and when humans do it, it always ends with disfavored groups being censored, while dedicated trolls, harassers and monsters evade punishment:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/como-is-infosec/

AI hype has led policy-makers to believe that we can deputize online services to spy on all their customers and block the bad ones without falling into this trap. Canada is on the verge of adopting Bill C-63, a "harmful content" regulation modeled on examples from the UK and Australia.

Writing on his blog, Canadian lawyer/activist/journalist Dimitri Lascaris describes the dire speech implications for C-63:

https://dimitrilascaris.org/2024/04/08/trudeaus-online-harms-bill-threatens-free-speech/

It's an excellent legal breakdown of the bill's provisions, but also a excellent analysis of how those provisions are likely to play out in the lives of Canadians, especially those advocating against genocide and taking other positions the that oppose the agenda of the government of the day.

Even if you like the Trudeau government and its policies, these powers will accrue to every Canadian government, including the presumptive (and inevitably, totally unhinged) near-future Conservative majority government of Pierre Poilievre.

It's been ten years since Martin Gilens and Benjamin I Page published their paper that concluded that governments make policies that are popular among elites, no matter how unpopular they are among the public:

https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/perspectives-on-politics/article/testing-theories-of-american-politics-elites-interest-groups-and-average-citizens/62327F513959D0A304D4893B382B992B

Now, this is obviously depressing, but when you see it in action, it's kind of wild. The Biden administration has declared war on junk fees, from "resort fees" charged by hotels to the dozens of line-items added to your plane ticket, rental car, or even your rent check. In response, Republican politicians are climbing to their rear haunches and, using their actual human mouths, defending junk fees:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-04-12-republicans-objectively-pro-junk-fee/

Congressional Republicans are hell-bent on destroying the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau's $8 cap on credit-card late-fees. Trump's presumptive running-mate Tim Scott is making this a campaign plank: "Vote for me and I will protect your credit-card company's right to screw you on fees!" He boasts about the lobbyists who asked him to take this position: champions of the public interest from the Consumer Bankers Association to the US Chamber of Commerce.

Banks stand to lose $10b/year from this rule (which means Americans stand to gain $10b/year from this rule). What's more, Scott's attempt to kill the rule is doomed to fail – there's just no procedural way it will fly. As David Dayen writes, "Not only does this vote put Republicans on the spot over junk fees, it’s a doomed vote, completely initiated by their own possible VP nominee."

This is an hilarious own-goal, one that only brings attention to a largely ignored – but extremely good – aspect of the Biden administration. As Adam Green of Bold Progressives told Dayen, "What’s been missing is opponents smoking themselves out and raising the volume of this fight so the public knows who is on their side."

The CFPB is a major bright spot in the Biden administration's record. They're doing all kind of innovative things, like making it easy for you to figure out which bank will give you the best deal and then letting you transfer your account and all its associated data, records and payments with a single click:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

And now, CFPB chair Rohit Chopra has given a speech laying out the agency's plan to outlaw data-brokers:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/prepared-remarks-of-cfpb-director-rohit-chopra-at-the-white-house-on-data-protection-and-national-security/

Yes, this is some good news! There is, in fact, good news in the world, bright spots amidst all the misery and terror. One of those bright spots? Labor.

Unions are back, baby. Not only do the vast majority of Americans favor unions, not only are new shops being unionized at rates not seen in generations, but also the largest unions are undergoing revolutions, with control being wrestled away from corrupt union bosses and given to the rank-and-file.

Many of us have heard about the high-profile victories to take back the UAW and Teamsters, but I hadn't heard about the internal struggles at the United Food and Commercial Workers, not until I read Hamilton Nolan's gripping account for In These Times:

https://inthesetimes.com/article/revolt-aisle-5-ufcw-grocery-workers-union

Nolan profiles Faye Guenther, president of UFCW Local 3000 and her successful and effective fight to bring a militant spirit back to the union, which represents a million grocery workers. Nolan describes the fight as "every bit as dramatic as any episode of Game of Thrones," and he's not wrong. This is an inspiring tale of working people taking power away from scumbag monopoly bosses and sellout fatcat leaders – and, in so doing, creating a institution that gets better wages, better working conditions, and a better economy, by helping to block giant grocery mergers like Kroger/Albertsons.

I like to end these linkdumps on an up note, so it feels weird to be closing out with an obituary, but I'd argue that any celebration of the long life and many accomplishments of my friend and mentor Anne Innis Dagg is an "up note."

I last wrote about Anne in 2020, on the release of a documentary about her work, "The Woman Who Loved Giraffes":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/19/pluralist-19-feb-2020/#annedagg

As you might have guessed from the title of that doc, Anne was a biologist. She was the first woman scientist to do field-work on giraffes, and that work was so brilliant and fascinating that it kicked off the modern field of giraffology, which remains a woman-dominated specialty thanks to her tireless mentoring and support for the scientists that followed her.

Anne was also the world's most fearsome slayer of junk-science "evolutionary psychology," in which "scientists" invent unfalsifiable just-so stories that prove that some odious human characteristic is actually "natural" because it can be found somewhere in the animal kingdom (i.e., "Darling, please, it's not my fault that I'm fucking my grad students, it's the bonobos!").

Anne wrote a classic – and sadly out of print – book about this that I absolutely adore, not least for having one of the best titles I've ever encountered: "Love of Shopping" Is Not a Gene:

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/11/04/love-of-shopping-is-not-a-gene-exposing-junk-science-and-ideology-in-darwinian-psychology/

Anne was my advisor at the University of Waterloo, an institution that denied her tenure for fifty years, despite a brilliant academic career that rivaled that of her storied father, Harold Innis ("the thinking person's Marshall McLuhan"). The fact that Waterloo never recognized Anne is doubly shameful when you consider that she was awarded the Order of Canada:

https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/queen-of-giraffes-among-new-order-of-canada-recipients-with-global-influence

Anne lived a brilliant live, struggling through adversity, never compromising on her principles, inspiring a vast number of students and colleagues. She lived to ninety one, and died earlier this month. Her ashes will be spread "on the breeding grounds of her beloved giraffes" in South Africa this summer:

https://obituaries.therecord.com/obituary/anne-innis-dagg-1089534658

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/13/goulash/#material-misstatement

Image: Valeva1010 https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hungarian_Goulash_Recipe.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Creature of the Night

Task Force 141 X Platonic!Reader

While that was always true, there was something about the situation you couldn’t shake. You knew better than to poke a sleeping bear, even if Price was only a bear figuratively.

A/N: hi! I've had this idea stuck in my head for a few days, and thanks to @gaylemonshark for always fueling my ideas I finally had ambition to sit down and write, so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none really, maybe mentions of wounds(nothing graphic, just a small accident)

You’d only recently joined the task force, Kate being the reason your file had ended in the hands of one John Price. You were thankful, not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, however you were also skeptical of some things. While the Captain, as well as the other recruits, were friendly and treated you well, they seemed…odd. They would leave on missions at the most random times, never calling you into briefing. More often than not it was strictly the four of them heading off, assuring you it would only be a couple weeks before they came back. While that was always true, there was something about the situation you couldn’t shake. You knew better than to poke a sleeping bear, even if Price was only a bear figuratively.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m telling you, there’s something going on and I’m going to figure it out,” You huffed softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You think they’re selling secrets to the enemy?” Private Johnson was a newcomer, fresh faced and barely old enough to even legally be in the army.

“No, John’s too ‘fuck the enemy’ to willingly sell information,” It was one of the theories you’d had, but after writing up reports it was pretty clear that wasn’t the case.

So what would the case be if they weren’t running off to the enemy to spill secrets, and none of them had secret families, not that you could find at least. You’d done all the research you could, slightly illegal at times you were sure, but curiosity had gotten the better of you. Johnny was the middle child between two sisters. Gaz was the oldest, a younger brother and sister he often visited when able. Simon was a lot harder to figure out, his file was almost entirely blank except for his name, age, and birth date. John’s didn’t surprise you at all, oldest brother of six kids(jesus)and had joined the day he turned eighteen. His father had been a general before he passed away, it seemed so fitting.

Your eyes locked on Gaz and Johnny as they walked into the mess hall, Johnny’s accent thicker than a bowl of oatmeal in the middle of winter. No one could understand a word he said whenever he got excited, or angry, or stressed. Frankly, most of the time no one could really understand the Scot. He did his best around you to keep his words clearer, considering Simon’s accent tended to get thicker whenever he was pissed off.

“You look like you’re thinking real hard,” Johnson leaned closer, whispering softly so no one could hear your conversation.

“I swore that Soap shaved this morning, but he’s already got a five o’ clock shadow going,” Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the other man.

The stubble on his cheeks was darker than this morning, you were absolutely positive of that, but how would that even be possible? You’d walked in on him shaving, he had the razor against the skin of his neck, the sound of thick hair being shaved off. So, how in the actual fuck was he sporting stubble dark enough it was mere days away from a beard?!

“Maybe his facial hair just grows fast, I’ve seen it happen before,” Johnson shrugged, as if your words were nonsense.

“There’s no way in hell it grows that fast. I’ll eat my left shoe if that’s true,” Okay, maybe that was taking things a step too far.

Suddenly, as if some higher power had called the man’s name from your direction, Johnny’s eyes landed on you and Johnson. Your heart plummeted, eyes widening as you immediately turned to face Johnson and pretend you weren’t staring down the other man.

“So, have you talked to that recruit you have a crush on?” You needed to change the subject lest Soap realize you were talking about him originally.

Johnson’s eyes widened, jaw dropping open as you suddenly called him out on the secret he’d drunkenly whispered to you only a few days prior. Was it a risky move bringing up something like that out of the blue? Maybe, but you were desperate.

“No, I haven’t had the chance to talk to her yet,” His cheeks flushed a light pink, it was kind of cute if he wasn’t so young, and dumb.

“Aye, what’re we talkin’ about over ‘ere?” Soap slapped his hands down onto the table in front of you, a smirk pulling up his lips.

“Sorry, my lips are sealed MacTavish,” You mimed locking your lips and throwing away the key as you smiled up at the other man.

He laughed loudly, a deep belly laugh as he threw his head back. Gaz watched with a raised eyebrow, though you could see a faint smile on his own face. It made you happy knowing that you could make your teammates laugh, though sometimes you wondered if it was genuine at times.

Okay! No more depressive thoughts at the dinner table.

“I’m sure they are, but Gaz ‘n I have to head out soon,” Johnny nodded over to where Gaz was standing.

“Oh? Where are you guys heading to?” Would he admit the truth? Or would you be wondering once again?

His lips parted as if he was about to answer before Gaz’s hand landed on his shoulder, grip tight as he whispered lowly into the other man’s ear. Johnny’s eyes widened almost comically before he straightened up suddenly.

“Sorry, duty calls.” Johnny didn’t wait for you or Johnson to say anything before he and Gaz were heading off.

You were definitely more curious now, what was so important that Johnny couldn’t even tell you whatsoever? You guys told each other everything, at least most of the time he actually bothered to come around. Maybe…maybe you just weren’t as close friends as you suddenly thought.

“Do you think they don’t like me?” Your voice was much softer, an edge of hurt at the mere thought the people you saw as friends saw you as nothing more than a nuisance.

“They definitely like you, the missions probably got them stressed and they’re doing their best not to worry you,” Johnson shrugged his shoulders, lower lip pushed out in a playful pout.

Your mind was racing with a million and one different thoughts, surely if any of them were truly stressed out they would come to you, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Okay, so maybe things hadn’t really gone back to normal once Gaz and Johnny came back from that last mission, but they were talking to you again! Price had even taken you on a mission with him, except now you were beyond sore and could barely get out of bed. An enemy had managed to sneak up when you’d had your back turned. Hell, the only reason you were even alive right now was because of your tac vest, their blade barely piercing the thick material.

“Sergeant, how’re you feeling?” Simon’s face wasn’t something you saw often, the man preferred keeping his personal life private, so seeing him in your room was a surprise.

“Like shit, didn’t think falling nearly two stories would hurt so much,” You chuckled weakly, wincing as pain shot up through your side.

“Yeah, that’ll happen,” Simon shook his head with a soft sigh, stepping over to your bedside before gently lifting your gown.

It was nothing more than a large bruise, the very center of it nearly black from how hard you’d hit the concrete. He hummed softly under his breath as he laid a gentle hand against the surprisingly large bruise. You groaned loudly, gripping the sheets in your fists as the heat from Simon’s hands seeped into your skin. Jesus, why the fuck was he so hot?(pun intended).

“I knew about the dangers of war when I signed up, falling out buildings wasn’t on that roster,” The heat of his palms slowly soothed the throbbing ache in your side.

“Accidents can happen, you know that better than any of us. Johnny nearly lost his head trying to disarm a bomb,” You weren’t entirely surprised by that, the man was insanely smart, but sometimes the enemy was just a little bit smarter.

You both sat in silence for a few more moments until Simon pulled his hand away from your skin, laying the gown back down so it covered your mottled skin. There was a slight tension filling the room, the urge to understand who your Lt. actually was.

“Try and get better, we need you in top shape,” Simon didn’t wait for your response before leaving the room quickly.

Your mind was suddenly racing, his skin felt like fire against your own, and while you’d spent a lot of time around a lot of different people, there was no way that was normal. No, that’s stupid to be thinking about, he was just a normal guy who tended to run hotter than the average guy. Nothing more than some silly thoughts.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were exhausted but couldn’t sleep as usual, so what’s better than sneaking out of your room and heading down to the mess hall to get a bite to eat? They wouldn’t care as long as everything was cleaned up afterwards, and you never left a mess anyway. Sighing softly you slipped on a pair of slippers and pulled a hoodie on to keep the chill out. As you slowly and quietly made your way down to the mess hall you realized there were more people inside. Who else would be awake this late at night?

“C’mon! I’m starvin’,” The voice was muffled by the door, the only light being the one they were using by their table.

You pushed the door open slowly, seeing Johnny, Gaz, Simon, and Captain Price all sitting around the largest table in the mess hall. The table was loaded with food, a slightly smaller pile of trash at the opposite end. Gaz was stuffing his face with what looked to be a burger and fries, while Johnny was stuffing his own with…garlic bread? To each their own.

“Hey,” You mumbled as you walked inside, heading straight for the freezer to see if your pizza rolls were still in there. 

You had threatened everyone on base that if they ate your food there would be hell on earth, mainly because getting into town to buy food wasn’t easy. Johnny’s head whipped around to stare over at you, almost as if he wasn’t expecting anyone to drop in on them. Then again, it was nearly one in the morning and they were all stuffing their faces as if they hadn’t eaten in days. Come to think of it, they almost always have appetites like this, keeping the fridge stocked is nearly impossible at times.

Getting a plate and your pizza rolls out of the freezer you pour a few onto the plate before placing it into the microwave. The boys were nearly silent as you waited for your food to cook, murmuring amongst themselves. Reaching to stop the microwave from beeping loudly as it hit End you pulled the plate out. Thanks to the many calluses on your thumb you could barely feel the heat from the plate.

“Have a good night boys,” You nodded quickly before heading down to your room to eat in peace.

You could have easily sat down with everyone and eaten, but there was something off about the way they stared over at you, as if they were watching you like predators. No, you weren’t going to sit here and assume your friends were secretly out to get you, that’s weird. With a soft grunt you plopped down onto your bed, pulling open your laptop to turn on a movie. Your eyes caught on a title you hadn’t watched in years. Twilight. Snickering you turned it on, picking up a pizza roll to see if it was actually cooled enough to eat. Not that that ever stopped you of course, but maybe this time would be different.

Normally you would eat your snack and fall asleep within a few minutes, tonight however was going to be a nightmare. You were absolutely hooked into the terrible movie, clicking onto the next one, and the next, and of course you couldn’t not finish the saga. Suddenly it was morning and you were shocked to see the sun, well now you were definitely going to be in trouble. Groaning you turned off your laptop and pulled your blanket up and over your head, exhaustion seeping into your bones like a weight.

By the time you opened your eyes again it was dark outside, the sky lit up with stars as you groaned. You were half tempted to go back to sleep, your body still aching for those few precious minutes. Unfortunately your stomach was rumbling, and your bladder was nearly bursting from being in bed for so long.

Pushing up and out of bed you headed into the bathroom to do your business and brush your teeth. After you’d done everything that was urgent you grabbed the plate from the night before and headed back down to the mess hall. As you headed into the mostly dark area you could see the boys all sitting together. They were eating again. This time though it looked like they had gotten take out from one of the Italian restaurants nearby. God, what you wouldn’t give to have a big plate of spaghetti ragu.

Shaking your head you ran over to the sink to wash your plate and make yourself some more pizza rolls. You didn’t have much energy to actually cook something proper, so something easy would have to be the way you went for the night. Price was staring over at you, waiting to see if you would make your way over to their table. Considering you hadn’t the night before the other three didn’t think you would bother.

The microwave beeped loudly, indicating your food had finished cooking while you were daydreaming about future missions. You quickly grabbed your plate and headed over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

“Have a good night, boys,” You nodded towards them before heading back to your room.

Your shoulders were sagging with exhaustion when you made it back to your room, carefully setting the plate and water down before sitting in bed. Instead of turning on a movie, knowing it could keep you up, you turned on a show. It was mainly background noise as you quickly ate your dinner, sipping your water every now and then. Once your plate was empty, and your belly full, you scooted down into bed. Your eyes slipped closed, unable to keep them open a minute longer as you fell asleep. Dreams plagued with different werewolves and vampires, though they seemed so…similar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The entire base was in full swing, everyone letting loose with good food, and enough beer to drown an entire village. It was a way to thank the soldiers that were risking their lives daily, and it felt damn good. You’d had your fair share of drinks, laughing at Johnson’s jokes when his crush wasn’t around so she didn’t get the wrong idea. You made it clear to everyone on base that you had no romantic intentions for anyone, refusing to ruin a good thing. Johnson had wandered off, following Ashley, Amanda, Amber? Shit, maybe you were way more drunk than you’d realized if you couldn’t even remember her name.

“Gonna get some fresh air.” You mumbled to no one in particular, heading outside to see if the chilly air could help sober you up.

The air nipped at your exposed skin, goosebumps rising as you stared up at the full moon. It gave off a beautiful light, the stars that surrounded it twinkling in the inky blackness. You’d always been fascinated by space, and getting to actually see the stars meant a lot. Your body had a mind of it’s own, turning and stumbling off towards the barracks. As you kept walking you soon realized you weren’t in the barracks at all, in fact you weren’t on the base anymore. Shit, were you going to get lost in the woods and have to have someone find you? That’s beyond embarrassing.

A deep rumbling growl stopped you in your tracks, heart racing as you slowly turned to face the noise. If it was a bear you could possibly manage to outrun it, but being as drunk as you were there was a chance you’d just get killed. Two bright glowing eyes stared back at you, lips pulled back into a snarl as your heart dropped and you took off into a sprint. Branches tore at your skin, the scent of blood permeating the air as you pushed your legs to run even faster. You were thankful you’d worn your boots, not wanting to ruin a pair of nicer shoes.

Your feet came to a grinding halt as suddenly you were surrounded by what could only be described as giant wolves. You knew they were big, having seen the comparisons to a regular Siberian husky, but these? They’d be able to kill you with one swipe of their giant paws.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna die, this is how I die,” Your heart was racing, eyes comically wide as you watched the three wolves and…oh god were those mountain lions?!

“Y/N! It’s us!” Gaz’s voice echoed around you, the trees swaying slightly as the wind whipped around you.

Your throat closed up slowly as the rest of the task force and both Rudy and Alejandro walked over to where you’d stopped. How were they all here if you had just been surrounded by wolves and mountain-

“I fucking knew it!” You pointed an accusatory finger at each and every person standing around you.

Simon’s jaw dropped open, did you just say that you knew about the secret they’d tried so hard to keep hidden?! Are you serious right now?!

“How the fuck did you know?” Simon was almost angry, though he wasn’t sure if he was angry at you or because you somehow knew?

“You guys run off whenever there’s a full moon, you eat way more than everyone else, your skin nearly burned me when I fell out of that building…also I may have watched Twilight and found some similarities.” You admitted sheepishly.

Price was shocked and also affronted that you’d found out their hidden secret because of a movie made for teenagers?! Jesus, maybe he really was getting too old to deal with any of this shit. 

“So, are there more of you guys?” Your curiosity was piqued now, if your friends were werewolves and werecats, could there be more?

“Yes, but it’s not our place to say so when the time comes we’ll let them tell you, alright?” Price wanted to get back to the compound and sleep for the next few days if he could.

You were excited at the idea of meeting more people like your team, but you were also nervous they wouldn’t like you knowing who they truly were.

Sometimes real life is even stranger than fiction.

[blasphemecel]

Shidou Ryuusei — Like Teeth

PAIRING: Shidou Ryuusei/Reader WORD COUNT: 3.6k TYPE: Humor, Feelings realization, idfk what this even is but i threw in some surprise fluff at the end WARNING(S): Nsfw jokes but cmon it's shidou you gotta forgive me for finding sex funny this once, play-fighting that doesn't seem very playful, canon-typical mental illness, canon-typical unnecessary dramatics, canon-typical overly intense soccer rivalry NOTE: Reader is a part of the blue lock project but no concrete gender identity or pronouns are specified

It starts like this:

After the freaky nerd from the ceremony whose name you hadn’t bothered remembering finishes with his instructions about this game of tag you’re supposed to be playing, the biggest asshole in the room immediately targets you once he realizes you’re the one with the highest number on your jersey. You trap the ball with ease and then kick it straight into his face with as much power as you can muster, knocking him out, the force sending him reeling.

While the timer continues ticking, no one dares to make a move or even exhale too loudly in your presence, scared you might take their bodily functions as a challenge to your authority. Like every opponent before, they’ve submitted to you.

You stare at the ceiling, your lips set in a tight line, the despair settling in. Just this once, you want to meet someone who can excite you, and you’d hoped this ridiculous place could help.

___

As the top scorer of your pathetic excuse for a team — though behind your back they call you ‘the top red card holder,’ but considering how far up your own ass your head is, you’re yet to pay attention to this remark — by the second qualifying match they already know to pass the ball to you no matter what. In your defense, you’re not any more tyrannical than the average douche in this competition. It’s not your fault they’re too worthless to do what you can.

Two of the opponents are blocking your path, and you shuffle the ball between your feet trying to get the positioning right while they attempt to steal it. Everyone is making noises, but they never mean anything to you. You back up once you’ve felt that the stars have aligned and strike the ball through the tight opening between their bodies, taking the first goal of the match.

“You’re good!”

You blink, the words bringing you out of your perpetual trance to look at the guy in front of you. He starts rambling some nonsense about explosions and how he’s going to beat the ass of anyone who can’t give a good show and you think at some point he has started finding new roundabout ways of saying that he basically wants to bust a nut on the field. It is absurd. You understand it down to your bones, except maybe the last thing. For the first time, everything is coming into view. You can make out his face and you can hear his words and you see your teammates in your peripheral vision. How you didn’t notice him before, what with the hairstyle and his cartoonishly beautiful eyelashes, you’re not sure, but you’ve never been more present during a game before.

“Alright, gyaru,” you say. “Show me how you explode.”

“Gyaru?” he tilts his head, grin wide like a demon’s. “You think I’m pretty?”

Though Jinpachi Ego officially writes down what ensues as a round-robin tourney in his notes, the spectators (meaning literally anyone else who was in your physical proximity) would describe it as ‘The Longest Dick Measuring Contest They’ve Ever Seen.’

The way he moves fascinates you like nothing else. Just like you, he is a creature of instinct. You both circle around while trying to score or steal the ball, only to find that stopping the other is impossible.

After this match, two monsters glance at each other and think, ‘Maybe there is someone out here who understands me.’

___

There are still jitters in your veins. You can’t sleep. Is it ridiculous and maybe parasocial that the thought of ‘I want to see this guy again’ is keeping you up at night? Yeah, probably. You also feel like a creep lying down in the dark with your eyes wide open, yearning to bulldoze through something like you do when you want to calm down.

Frustrated, you slip out of the futon and leave the room while the rest of them are sleeping. The hallways let out ominous flickers, trailing after you while your steps echo and bounce off the walls. This building looks like a prison, you think, though you hadn’t noticed before.

You hate to think that your desperation is so strong you’ve developed the power of manifestation overnight, but when you step inside of the training room, he’s already there. He doesn’t have the decency to seem surprised at your entrance when you close in on him. His arms are crossed and he has a smug aura about him, but for the love of everything you cannot comprehend why he’s standing there doing nothing. At least you planned on being productive when you headed here with your plan to obliterate whatever you could get your hands on. Just so happens it’s him that you found.

The weird silence stretches, but it doesn’t bother either of you because as it turns out you have the same kind of social incompetence. You realize you don’t even know the guy’s name, but he declares, “You really came.”

You don’t really know what he means by this considering you didn’t arrange to meet here beforehand, but he’s saying it as if this was some unanimous agreement you came to earlier. “Waiting for me in the middle of the night all by yourself, handsome?”

“Every cell in my body was calling out to yours,” he says as if it explains anything. His expression is bordering on maniacal. Anyone else might’ve realized this was a bad idea, read the warning signs, but to someone like you who has lived their entire life sleepwalking, the excitement of such a strange encounter is addictive. “We’re the same… That’s why you felt it.”

“In that case, please avoid summoning me so late,” you say. “I value good sleep.”

He cannot tell if you’re just taking the piss or if you’re on the same page, but it’s rare that anyone entertains him when he says anything of that nature. To him, this is an amusing turn of events. “They say you’re some kinda unhinged delinquent. ‘s that true?”

“Sure, if that’s what you call putting a few sorry bums down in their place after they crossed me.”

“So you know how to scrap too, right?”

Right now, Shidou Ryuusei is like a kid at the candy store. You can’t discern any reason for him to swing at you, but he does, smiling all the while. After you respond to his provocation with a duck and a kick of your own — you avoid using your hands for anything if you can avoid it, finding it beneath you — you decide to consider this your friendly introduction to each other.

If he wants to coax the crazy out of you with his punches, then you’re trying to get him to settle down every time you retaliate, daring him to pipe down and turn boring just like everyone else. You’re not sure for how long you duke it out, but at some point you grow sloppy, and the last you remember of it before succumbing to your exhaustion is the last round of boneless slaps you offered each other.

___

Two of your teammates hatefully watch you and Shidou from across the cafeteria. You’re a selfish and insensitive person, of course, they know that. Before this, you’d always eat alone, but ever since the match where they were forced to watch you two flex on them, you’d hang out with him. Still, “I can’t believe [L/n] would rather have a romantic dinner with the only goddamn bastard in this goddamn building who gets better meals than share with us! I’m sick of this natto.”

“You’re telling me,” the other boy says, sadly eating a radish.

This must be an advanced form of psychological torture administered by Ego himself. Even if you don’t notice the audience, Shidou seems to be reveling in the negative attention. They can only watch and drool while you two push at each other and try to steal ingredients. At some point, you put Shidou in a suplex, making him cough out something. Then he wrestles his way out of your maneuver and shoves your head into your plate, forces you up again, and licks the food off your face while you scowl at him.

“I’d hardly call that a romantic dinner, though.”

“A guy from blondie’s team said he caught them asleep on top of each other in the training facility once.”

“Do you think they’re-?!”

“Oh my god, they’re…!”

They scream and point at each other and then hug as if traumatized. To add insult to injury, your voice rings from afar, “Are your eyes really pink? There’s no way that’s natural,” while some of the sauce still sticks to your skin.

“What? You think I’m some kinda fake?” asks Shidou, apparently offended.

“I’m gonna expose you, trust.”

How are you blowing everyone in your cell out of the water in terms of performance? You have to be the dumbest person in this entire wing.

___

“I want you,” he says.

Granted, this is out of context, but you still find that the words have some effect on you. But this won’t do no matter how hard you want to give in. With the first stage of the second selection cleared, you can’t continue as you are. You’ve been complacent in your talent. To expand your abilities, you need to observe whatever other powerful players there are in here instead of still chasing after him. Even the wet wipes on your old team have started catching up.

Besides, you’d always thought your appeal to him is as an opponent, someone who he wants on the other side of the field to face off against, and now Shidou is demanding to work together with you.

“I was in a coma before I met you,” you say. He pinches his eyebrows together, which is probably the first time you’ve seen him pull such an expression. To think you have the ability to utter something so strange, it weirds out even Shidou. “You pulled me out of it, but now I need to see other things, too.”

“If you tell me you wanna go watch other guys, I might get jealous.” Despite the initial waver, he sticks his tongue out at you, trying to be playful like always.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Shidou grabs you by the collar of your jersey and pushes you against the wall. You blink at him, finding this an inappropriate time for a spar seeing as this is regular enough for him, but then he invades your personal space in a way which doesn’t feel particularly combative, your noses brushing against each other, and he blatantly glances at your lips before closing his eyes. You don’t think about it when you pull him in by the neck, your body reacting to his cues.

It’s not even that great, he’s not really being effective at what he’s doing, mashing your mouth against his almost pointlessly, teeth clashing and all before moving far too quickly onto the tonguing part of making out. Your nails are digging into his neck and his hold against your waist is tight enough to bother you. There’s a latent aggression in it like there is in any other interaction between you two.

And you don’t enjoy this for the surface-level sensations but rather for the strange tightness in your chest, the headrush, the closeness where somehow he’s enveloping you and you’re enveloping him at the same time and it feels like you’re about to fuse. You don’t want to let go yet, maybe under the assumption that if you keep kissing him, he’s going to be polite and return your breath to you.

Steps come near the entrance of the hallway and then, “Ah! Uhhh…”

You snap out of it and push Shidou off of you. He has the gall to look offended, glaring.

There’s some puny kid with a buzz cut, standing there with his confusion clear on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, uh… whatever it was you were doing!” he says in a panic, waving his hands back and forth.

Yeah, that’s a good point. What the fuck were you doing? You just jumped at each other on instinct, ruled by some bizarre, mysterious need.

It must be because the air is so charged between you. Shidou is always in overdrive and he has a penchant for pulling you into his madness. You’re always doing something when you’re together — trading blows, trying to show the other up in soccer, saying heavy-handed things for no reason — and now a moment of stagnancy happened and you both turned into even bigger morons than usual.

He didn’t think about it either, you’re sure. Besides, even if you’re a crazy bastard on the field, you’re not like him. Shidou will meet even stronger players once he advances and he’ll move onto his next obsession. This doesn’t mean anything, at least not to him, you’re convinced.

You untangle yourself from him and ram your shoulder into his as goodbye before lamely saying, “I’m going now,” and offering a nonchalant wave.

He frowns before kicking imaginary dust off the floor. “Sure, fine. Be this way!”

Igaguri isn’t super puritanical or anything. Yeah, he grew up in a temple and all, but seeing two people kiss doesn’t offend his sensibilities. What freaked him out was how you managed to make it look like a fight while you were going at it, and like, he knows the hallway was deserted before he came out of thin air, but this is still a public place. Whatever happened to shame?

And now he has to be in the same vicinity as this scary guy who’s glaring daggers at the spot you were standing in, vein bursting out of his forehead and all, as if you ruined his life by walking out of here. He looks like a manchild who’s sulking because his mom forgot to make him chicken nuggies. A bead of nervous sweat rolls down his forehead.

___

Ever since the beginning, Isagi has been honing his technique, always hungry to add another skill to his repertoire. Rin and Shidou have no synergy; fine, he thinks, it’s not like he really even wants to set up a goal using them. It’s not enough to satisfy him anymore, not after the last match. He’d much rather score himself.

But the problem with the spatial awareness he has developed is that he can’t turn it off at will, or say ‘la-la-la’ and ignore something to focus on what’s important.

Well, being on the same stage as you and Shidou has to be the worst thing of all time. He wants to smell a goal for himself, but the most likely chemical reaction he can predict is one between you two, and you’re not even on the same team. It’s like a ticking time bomb, like those explosions Shidou has been vaguely rambling about, and it permeates the air.

You’ve started adapting his bodily control and precision, almost coming close to scoring with your back on the net. And Shidou has managed to pull off one of ridiculously tight angled shots to break through a two-on-one, passing the ball to Rin. If the phenomenon Isagi observed and achieved before is ‘consumption,’ then he has a first row seat to watch you two cannibalize each other.

The most unfortunate thing is the chase. The ball will come to you, but Shidou will steal it. He’ll be in the air ready to strike, but you’ll sabotage him from below. Isagi recognizes this as an unconscious prediction — on a molecular level, you know where the other one will be, and you’ll race there. It’s like he’s watching both of you swing neon signs and desperately scream ‘Please look at me!’ and overall beg for attention while also stubbornly refusing to make eye contact in fear of rejection.

It is revolting. He wants to gag.

Sure, Ego talked about how luck is a skill and how a pro takes advantage of it, but he never mentioned what to do when someone on his team is living through a low-rated soap opera episode with an opponent. With all of the emotional constipation among the participants of this godforsaken project, he’s sure this won’t be the last time he’ll need it.

___

Sitting down in the middle of practice isn’t productive, but you’re ‘taking a break,’ by which you mean you want to snap someone’s neck. It’s been boring again, ever since Shidou started disregarding your presence. You’re even on the same team now and it’s like you’re no better than air to him.

Of course, you’d predicted he’d find someone new to excite him. You just hadn’t anticipated it’d hurt your feelings. Why do you care, anyway? You should be used to this. The soccer you’ve played has always been selfish and lonely, and moping and jealousy are below you.

But during the match against U-20, you saw him look at Itoshi Sae the same way he first looked at you on the day you met, spouting nonsense with his unique expert-level yappery. And you don’t like that. You don’t like it at all.

He’s off doing his own thing again when you search for him with your eyes. You stand up.

And then you don’t think at all, breaking out into a sprint at full speed.

You’re behind him in the matter of a minute or so, slipping your foot between his and kicking the ball overhead so it lands behind him. He bristles, perhaps at your unwanted company, but you’ve already turned on your heel to run in the other direction.

You’re dribbling the ball when you glance over your shoulder. He’s onto you, trademark grin on his face. You’re not even sure what you’re trying to accomplish here, but all that comes to mind is, It doesn’t matter if it’s going way too fast or way too hard anymore. Just chase after me one more time.

You’re almost all the way over to the other goal, maintaining your lead, when Shidou kicks the ball after lunging around your side. It slips off half-assedly, but you don’t have much time to mock him for his technique because he grabs you by the wrists and pins you down, straddling you to the ground.

“That’s a foul,” you say, displeased.

“I don’t care.” His smile is so big you feel like he’s going to need to visit an orthodontist after you’re done here. The annoying strands of hair he keeps loose are hovering near your face, taunting you.

Your eyes dart again with your head in the fake grass and you see it straying off. “And the ball didn’t make it. To be honest, you were sloppy.”

“I don’t care.”

“You… don’t?”

There’s that sick fluttering feeling in your stomach again and your heart kicks against your chest painfully. Your cheeks are growing warm and you feel uncomfortable by the heat with Shidou so close to you. What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, he didn’t even tell you a line or anything. He just said ‘I don’t care’ twice. That’s not game! You need to get a grip.

“Yeah, why should I? I’ve got you right where I want you now.”

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow. If making you look like an idiot is his revenge to you for making him mad, then fine, you’re going to pretend you can’t make your way out of his grip with ease.

“You can’t give me a big dopamine hit like that and pull away,” he says, leaning closer. By this point you really can’t see much apart from his big ass head right in your face. Does he even know what he’s implying to you while looking at you straight-on? Does he realize you know his weird euphemisms are all figures of speech for whatever makes him horny?

“What do you mean?”

“Tellin’ me all that romantic stuff and running away…” Shidou narrows his eyes as if the memory is enough to annoy him.

You blink. Oh. You thought he was throwing a temper tantrum because you refused to team up with him. But once again, you’re unimpressed. “So did that turn you on or what? I don’t get it.”

“Well, I’d put it in other words, like, let’s say, hypothetically, maybe you made me explode because you’re an oxidizer and I’m an organic-”

“Ok, I know, but I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here-”

He retreats and rolls away from you, allowing you to sit up again, so you cease talking without reaching the point you were trying to make. It flies out of your head anyway when he links his hand with yours, staring at you, seemingly subdued now. You’re not sure why you’re both acting like shy middle schoolers now while indulging in something so chaste considering you’ve done way more indecent things together, but you intertwine your fingers and offer him a smile. The sight catches him off-guard.

Before he can bask in another achievement (this time being the first person to make you express any kind of joy when everyone knows you’re one distant asshole), a ball hits him straight on the forehead.

Without any preamble, Rin deems it fit to announce his presence by saying, “Your lukewarm displays are appalling. You should both just die.”

You stare at him and then at each other and burst out in laughter, pointing at him. Though you finish your laughing fits at about the same time, you spur on another one by asking, “Do you think he even knows what lukewarm means?”

“No, I seriously doubt it!”

Rin thinks to ask you how come you think it’s chill when your shitty boyfriend or whatever he is says the grossest things imaginable, but suddenly it’s a problem when he wants to say his favorite word, though he doesn’t want to seem too offended or otherwise invested.

___

Im sorry if this is in any way contradictory or shitty or sucks balls I havent slept in 4 days except for a one-off 3 hour nap and wrote this while possessed. Maybe ill sleep again at some point and this will be the worst thing ive ever seen and ill have to delete it. God forbid.

[luvrsbian]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐔𝐏

A/N: thank you so so SO much for the support on part one. i did not expect that at all!! everyones likes, reblogs, comments, and tags made my whole day (especially the comments and tags, almost cried during class cause i was soft over some of y'alls fic reviews) um, anyway, still fluffy, still 4k words, still a little awkward eddie, and some very minor angst for plot movement. nothing to be scared about, i promise. also, this fic is very much not a slow burn, it's more akin to love-at-first-sight-but-were-both-awkward-idiot-dummys. and as always so much love and praise for mona @enam3l for making sure this fic is coherent and not just me rambling thoughts. please enjoy!

PART ONE ✿ PART THREE

Virginias letter sat heavy in Eddie’s pocket for the remainder of the day. Only being touched again when he took it from the deep, work pockets and folded it up to put in his jean pockets as he left for the day back home.  

Eddie didn’t see you the rest of the day, assuming you left around 2:50 like Virginia would, his own shift not ending till 4. This theory being confirmed when he did finally head out, there were only two cars left in the staff lot. One being his van, his baby that was on her last legs. A few spots down sat the second, Mr. Sinclair’s Honda Accord. Knowing the father of Lucas and Erica, an ex-elementary school teacher turned middle school principal, he probably wouldn’t be heading out till around 5:30 when Ron came in for the night shift and lockup. Mr. Sinclair was a kindly principle with a no-nonsense policy yet, still carefree enough for the kids to like him. He was way better than the principle of Hawkins middle when Eddie attended.   

Eddie parked the Mystery Machine - a name dubbed by Robin the first time he took her and Steve on a drive - in front of the small, blue house. Wayne’s car still parked in the driveway, his shift at the plant not starting till 6; giving Eddie enough time to take a power nap and make dinner for the both of them. Tonight was definitely a soup and grilled cheese kinda night. Maybe some steamed broccoli for a balanced meal or what not.  

Entering the home, he falls into his usual after work ritual of putting any change from his pockets into the coin-jar and his keys next to it. Then, his shoes come off and are placed by the door so he could slip them on easily in the morning. Wayne’s door was closed, presumably still sleeping, so he does his routine quietly. He keeps his shirt on but takes his jeans off to put on some plaid, loose fit pajama bottoms. Before discarding his jeans into the could-be-worn-again pile, he takes out the note. With a sigh, he sits on the edge of the bed with the letter clasped in his fingers.   

Eddie doesn’t even know why the letter was stressing him out so badly. He knew it wouldn’t be anything truly bad. Yeah, he was bummed he wasn’t warned beforehand about her sudden retirement to Florida, but at least she left him something to explain herself. That’s more than the other people in his life who upped and left with no warning could say.   

Man up, dude. It’s just words on some paper.  

With a few more seconds of memorizing all the curves and loops of his name written by Virginia on the back, he bites the bullet and opens the letter. He unfolds the parchment, noting the formal stationary with a huff of laughter, surprised it wasn’t just a loose-leaf lined page. Eddie begins to read the words left for him.  

Dear Eddie M.,  

If you’re reading this letter that means I’ve finally left this hellhole and jumped ship. (Jumped on a ship, that is. You know me and my affinity for cruises to tropical locations.)  

Eddie did know this, having heard a small handful of stories from Virgina about the cruises and summer beach vacations she would take with her son, Rick, and her roommate, Caroline. He even remembers a few years back, one of the first times he saw her out and about at the grocery store wearing this graphic t-shirt of a humanoid lady cat in a hot pink one-piece, lounging on a beach towel with the words ‘Bahama Mama’ in matching pink script above her. Eddie had walked up to her in the dairy aisle, Cheshire Cat grin on display, and said with his whole chest, “Hello, Bahama Mama.” To which Virginia promptly ignored him with a side eye glance and headed towards the produce section.  

But that also means you’ve met the lovely nurse who will be taking my place. She also has a great enjoyment of beach vacations, if you’re looking for topic starters. You’ve always been quite dreadful at small talk, but I won’t bore you with the reminiscing of our first meeting, you were there, and I hope you remember it like I do.  

Knowing you, though, you’re either jumping for joy to be rid of this old gal or confused on my sudden departure. I’m truly sorry I couldn’t say goodbye in person and to leave so suddenly. But let’s be honest here, Edward, if anyone could convince me to spend another 65 55 years in Indiana, it would be you.  

Caroline and I decided it was as good as time as any to finally do some traveling, just the two of us. Rick and the kids are in a good place now (but please still keep an eye on him when you can, I don’t trust him to be truthful about things, like you are.) You're in a good place as well, whether you care to admit it or not.   

I would never have left if I thought you truly still needed me.  

Eddie lets out a sardonic laugh at her truthful sentiments. Virginia wasn’t a liar, she had secrets like any normal person, but when she said things, she meant them. He furrows his brows noticing a small wet stain on the next line before another quickly appears. Bringing his free hand up to his face he realizes he’s crying. With a hard sniffle and another chuckle at his own emotions he collects himself and finishes the note. 

Enough of the sappy shit crap. You’ll be receiving various postcards in due time through our gorgeous new friend. Play nice and don’t fuck it up, Edward. I believe in you. You need to make friends now before you end up stubborn and old like me. Not everyone gets their own Caroline.  

I better here back from you. My replacement will know what to do with them.  

Love, Virginia Wagner  

Eddie folded up the letter, put it back in the envelope and tucked it in his bedside table drawer. Don’t fuck it up, I believe in you, echoing in his brain. He had no intentions on fucking up anything. Especially with you. You, the woman he just met not even 24 hours ago. He shakes you from his thought, not ready to jump  nto that obvious trap set up by a secret hopeless romantic. He needed time. His mind, body, and heart still processing the words he just read before an evil grin spread upon his lips.  

“I fucking knew that old witch was a lesbian.”  

You didn’t come into work for the remainder of prep-week.   

Which was fine. So fine in fact that Eddie 100% didn’t even notice. He had his own work to distract him. How could he have known you weren’t there when he was so busy moving desks, cleaning floors, eating lunch outside with that sad, puppy dog look on his face because he’s never had to find a spot to eat outside of the nurse's office before. Your disappearance hit him like a freight train on Friday.   

With one of those old school paperback books from a second-hand shop in town in one hand and the other preoccupied with feeding himself. His brain simultaneously trying to read the small words whilst not overthinking every possible thing regarding you.  

Did Eddie just fuck everything up with one meeting? Was he so off-putting that the only reasonable response was to quit on your first day in order to prevent the chance of running into him again? Your ability to make people leave will forever astound me, Eddie Munson, he tells himself.  

The reasonable part of Eddies brain played quickly to shut down this intense negative thinking. Maybe you were just sick? Even nurses get sick sometimes! Or a family emergency! Or your car broke down! Or something evil that Eddie wasn’t sure he’d ever possibly be able to explain to someone who didn’t experience it first-hand like him and his friends was happening in Hawkins again and you just happened to be the first victim-  

Nope. No. No. We’re shutting this down here, traumatized and overactive brain. Eddie began doing his deep breathing exercises that he learned from his therapist (well, Steve’s, who had promptly told Eddie because mental healthcare was a luxury he could probably never afford.) Reminding himself he was going to be okay he decided that on Monday, if you were still M.I.A, he’d ask someone. Freaking out and thinking the immediate worst, wasn’t gonna help anyone, he needed to just chill. Not let his mind take control of him. Virginia was smart and could sense things about people, she wouldn't have forced the two of you to collide in such a way if she thought you’d up and disappear.  

Besides, even the kindest of people don’t share Swiss Rolls with people they hate, and Hawkins was no longer a literal gateway to hell.  

Eddie’s weekend was uneventful.  

He finished his book. He went grocery shopping. Him and Wayne watched some rom-com film with Julia Roberts as a sex worker. In hindsight, a bizarre movie choice for both of them, next time Eddie thinks he’ll just let Wayne put on his beloved westerns. He worried just a bit about you. He kept his thoughts as realistic as he could this time. Although, he did at one point worry, whilst lying in bed Sunday night, whether you had gone missing and he was the only one to notice, meaning he’s now fucked up any chance of your rediscovery by not informing someone. But this was Hawkins. If you had truly gone missing without a trace, he would’ve heard of it by now. Especially from Pamela in Admin who did the attendance records and didn’t know how to keep things to herself.   

Point is, if you had an unexcused absence for the 4-days you were gone, she would’ve made it everyones business. Which gave Eddie some peace of mind that he’s heard nothing through the grapevine that runs through Hawkins.  

That Monday morning, Eddie was the first to traverse the halls of the first day of another school year at Hawkins middle. Or he thought he was. He wasn’t so sure because as he made his way to the main switch box that turned on all the hallway lights, a fluorescent glow was spilling out of the Nurse’s office.  

He slowed his pace as he approached the door left ajar, his head peeked around the corner of the entry. The lights were all on, there were various storage boxes on the beds, some filled with medical odds and ends, others empty. It was clear someone had been there organizing supplies.  

“Uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, the first use of his voice for the morning, “Hello?”  

“Good morning,”  

He whips around, startled by the cheery voice.  

“Jesus H. Christ, you gotta stop doing that,” his hand rubbed at his chest, face disgruntled and red from the jump scare.  

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps entering my workspace unannounced,” a look of innocence on your face. You step around him, bodies almost touching for just a second, causing Eddie’s heartbeat to increase embarrassingly so.     You’ve got a coffee mug held tightly in one hand, the other stuffed deep in your cardigan. The same sunflowers embellishing it, that greeted Eddie last time. Your scrub top today was black with various illustrations of Mickey and Minnie Mouse depicted as nurses.   

“I said hello,” he argues, hand rubbing at his chin. He continues to take in your appearance and any new details he can latch onto. You look the same, of course. It’s only been like what, 6 days since he saw you last. The only glaring difference being a sleepier appearance, even with the bubbly morning aura, your eyelids look heavy. You roll them at his defense, a resting smile never leaving your lips.  

You step over bins on the floor, take a long sip from your mug, and set it on the same table he put his lunch sack on last week. He smiles at the mug; it was off white and in red cartoonish font had the slogan ‘I ♡ my aunt!’. You begin to work on the boxes and talk as he stands in the entryway, not wanting to disturb the systematic mess you have in place.  

“I hope you didn’t miss me too much,” you snort, picking up a closed box and putting it in the storage closet by the office part of the Nurse’s Office, “I normally don’t disappear like that. You know, I just moved in town a few weeks ago, and I’ve been having problems with the house I’m renting,” you sigh after exiting the closet. Now stuffing labelled Ziploc bags with various bandages and over the counter medication into a new bin. You look focused even while speaking sporadically.  

He can’t move his eyes away from your hands as you work diligently on putting content into storage while still explaining about your absence. Vaguely, he catches something about landlords, repair men and having to take cold baths. He was listening but most of his attention was focused on your fingers tackling Ziploc bag openings. Your sleeves rising just enough for him to wonder if shadows were playing tricks on his mind, or there was a wrist tattoo he couldn’t quite make out from this angle.   

“Eddie, ya still with me?”  

He eyes snaps up from your stilled hands to look at the playful gleam in your eye from catching him staring, “hm?”  

“I asked if you’ve read the letter yet,” you decide to step slightly closer, most of the boxes now closed and in the closet. There weren’t that many to begin with but he’s still surprised with how fast you managed to finish the task.  

“Yeah, I did. It was sweet, for Virginia that is,” really sweet. You show your teeth in a wide grin.  

“I’m glad. I was afraid you might hold some resentment towards me for replacing her,” you do that snort laugh thing again, “I am nosey though, did she mention me?”  

Eddie smirks mischievously, hands coming to rest on his hips, allowing himself to incline, further closing the distance between you both.   “Wouldn’t ya like to know, Peach.”  

Your stomach did front flips from the use of that silly, little nickname again. 

“I would, I really would. That’s why I asked,” you say as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. One of your fingers he’d been watching intensely before, now coming up to give his chest a poke. 

Was this flirting? Eddie knew it was something akin to flirting, but was this a playful flirting or a serious flirting? He struggled between the two, often getting told off and read wrong for his natural charm. He’s like pretty sure he’s flirting with the serious intention, but were you? His heart felt like it was gonna fall out of his ass and he might throw up his own brain from all these emotions and thoughts.  

Before he could respond and remind his head and heart to start working again, a familiar voice spoke from behind his back.  

“What is happening here?”  

It was Eddie's turn to roll his eyes, another body squeezing past him to enter the nurse’s office. He takes a step back to let the young intruder have space to do whatever he needs to do here. You put your hand down and smile at the student you’ve yet to meet.  

Matty Sherman had a head of thick dark curls, a mole on his left cheek, and dark green eyes. He was wearing an obviously well-loved and a size too big Pantera t-shirt he had obviously cut the sleeves off himself to make into a muscle tee. He paired this with loose fitted, medium wash jeans, and some relatively new converse. Obviously wanting to make a statement and look his best for his first day of 8th grade. Both of his backpack straps were secured on his shoulder. His eyes looked between Eddie and you before landing securely on you.  

“Sup,” he smiles wide, dimples and braces on display.   

“Hi,” you smile widely yourself, a hitch in your voice from trying to not laugh at the situation. You glance over to Eddie, who’s looking at you with a pout on his pretty lips. Your eyes shift toward yet another, Ziploc bag that was in Matty’s hand.  

“That for me?” You ask, hand gesturing towards the bag holding obvious medication.  

“You the nurse?” The teen boy asks in a playful tone, as if you’re not wearing an outrageously patterned scrub top whilst standing in the nurse’s office.  

“I am the nurse.”  

“Then this is for you. I have asthma,” he hands you the Ziploc bag, curls bouncing when he turns to look at Eddie now, “Munson.”  

“Sherman, how was your summer?”   

“Dude, it was great. My dad felt so bad about not doing crap with us for Christmas that he took Me and Eli to see Megadeth in Chicago,” Matty excitedly responds, hands flailing around as he speaks. Beaded bracelets he had covering his wrist clanking together.   

Eddie couldn’t help but smile slightly at that. As much as he acted like Matty was a thorn in his side, he did genuinely care about him. In some weird turn of events, he had become to Matty what Virginia was to him. A safe haven at school. Even though Matty was far more popular than Eddie was at the same age, he obviously needed some sort of role model or trusted adult to just care. Matty had his mom at home and Eddie at school. Similar to how Eddie had Wayne at home and Virginia at school.  

Matty was waiting for Eddie's response, wanting some sort of confirmation that his ass of a father taking him and his older brother to see a metal concert was actually a cool thing to do. You were clearly taking your time putting Matty’s medication away to give them time to have this moment. Eddie smiles wide at Matty, to which he instantly perks up more.  

“Man, that does sound like a great summer. I spent my whole summer cleaning up after you kids,” he huffs and gives Matty’s shoulder a nudge.  

“You would’ve loved it, Munson, I’m telling you.”  

“Yeah,” he agrees before your make yourself known again.   

“I hate to break this up but class for you,” you gesture towards the youngest metalhead, “starts in about 5 minutes and I’m pretty sure we need to get back to work,” you give Eddie an apologetic smile. It’s probably the closest thing to sad he’s seen you so far and he’s not a fan. At all.  

“Yeah,” he agrees sadly, teeth nipping at his bottom lip, “We good for lunch?”   

“Yes.” You respond, quickly. Agreement coming out before he even got to the final syllable in lunch. Now his lips are being nipped to contain his full smile.  

“Good, I’ll see you then,” he moves his hand to grab the handle of Matty’s bookbag to lead him out.  

“You will! Bye guys,” You wiggle your fingers in goodbye.  

“Bye,” Matty waves to you as he’s being pulled out by Eddie. Your laugh following them out into the hall.  

Eddie keeps his hand secured on Matty’s bag until they’re a good few feet in the opposite direction from your door. He lets go and Matty takes a few steps to the side and adjusts his backpack to sit better on his back.  

“She’s hot.”  

Eddie is positive he gets whiplash from how fast his head turns to glare at the 8th grader. Disgust on his face, even though he said something factual, he shouldn’t be saying things like that at all. He’s like a baby in Eddies eyes.  

“Jesus, Matty, don’t say shit like that.”  

Matty gasps in mock shock, “Woah! Language, Mr.Munson, I have impressionable ears,” he dramatically covers his ears with both hands. Eddie shakes his head and gives his bookbag a gentle shove towards where he knows his home room is.  

“Get to class.”  

Matty laughs loudly as he runs down the hall to his first period. Eddie felt too old for this shit.  

That Monday lunch went swimmingly. Eddie thinks. He hopes. It definitely felt like it went swimmingly?  

You laughed at his jokes. His actual jokes, not just his situational awkwardness. You asked about his week and he asked about yours. He left out the part of being fearful you quit cause of him. Whilst you delved more into your trouble with the handy men and your landlord; your stove still didn’t work but at least you had hot water. He even got to learn more about you pre-Hawkins by finally divulging the info Virginia had written about.  

“Well, she is right. I do love the beach,” You were talking with a grape stuffed into your cheek. It was endearing but Eddie was silently praying you chewed it well and didn’t choke cause he definitely did not know the Heimlich manoeuvre. “I think that’s what I’m gonna miss the most while here. Indiana doesn’t even have a coastline, how sad is that,” You’re shaking your head in disapproval.  

“We have lakes,” he tries to amend, taking a bit of his Swiss Roll that you, again, have shared with him.  

Your eyes shoot up at him in a glare, not amused by his suggestion, “Eat your sandwich.” You say it in a tone that Eddie imagines you would use while scolding a student, it makes him roll his eyes with a huff but he does as you say. Putting the half-eaten Swiss Roll down to actually eat the sandwich he brought, another concoction of various cheeses and deli meat and some lettuce for color.  

You smirk at him following your directions. You’re eyeing both your lunches once again, almost identical to the meals you brought on your first lunch. Two sandwiches, two Swiss Rolls, one bag of pretzels, another bag of grapes. You have a Coke can and he’s got Yoo-hoo in a glass. It kinda makes you sad that you’re both grown adults eating lunches teenagers would prep for themselves. You think, once your stove is fixed you may start bringing some better meals, definitely less peanut butter and more vegetables. Maybe you’ll even bring enough to share.  

And on Thursday that’s exactly what you do.  

Outside of that first Monday morning, nothing eventful really happened for the rest of the week. You had your small group of after lunch medicine takers and a few kids in need of ice packs and Band-Aids. Your lunches were preoccupied with Eddie, getting to know him better.   

Part of your brain wanted to convince you that they were kinda like mini dates.  Unfortunately, your rational side reminded you that you were just two co-workers who didn’t really fit into any of the other staff groups, looking for some companionship during lunch. You were the replacement of his previous lunch partner. But then you remembered all the snippets of info Virginia had written to you once she began to send you letters after your acceptance to take on her job so she could retire. You probably would never tell Eddie you know this slice of information, not wanting to embarrass him, but she had made it very clear that Eddie was lonely. She knew you were lonely too.   

You two can be lonely together.  

When Eddie walked into your office that Thursday he was extremely confused at the second lunch box placed where he would normally sit. It was bulky and plastic like yours, but instead of Snoopy it was the Smurfs. You were writing something down in that nurses journal you had, your own lunchbox sat next to your resting elbow.  

A worried thought started in his mind, Did you find a new lunch buddy? Were his conversational skills not improving? But then you looked up at him, that kind little smile on your lips.  

“You gonna sit down or just keep enjoying the view?”   

He returns the smile and gestures to the blue thing before taking his seat, “What’s this?”   

“Oh, uh…” You’re flustered. It’s obvious and he’s enamored by it - like most things you do. God what’s gotten into him. “I hope it’s not too forward, but I made you a lunch. My stove got fixed and your, well our- please take no offense to this, our lunches were starting to depress me a bit.” You were talking faster the more you went on. Realizing the possible negative consequences of your actions. Eddie was nice but he didn’t have to entertain your too comfortable and too caring too fast behaviors.   

He quickly shut down your increasingly panicked explanation, “I’ve never had a girl make me a lunch before. It’s sweet. You're sweet.” He was honest. He hasn’t had a girl in this context make him any sort of a meal before and you were sweet. Sharing Swiss Rolls and ‘take as many as you like’ candy bowls with the expensive chocolate kind of sweet. 

You smile. A wide, closed mouth smile at his understanding. He taps his fingers against the hard plastic shell, right on-top of Smurfette's blue face.   

“I hope you like it and I hope you’re not allergic to anything.” You’re calmer now and anticipating him opening his lunch.  

“I’m not. Except, for like, pollen,” he chuckles and unlatches the box. Inside there was a Tupperware of spirally noodles with a mix of cut up: vegetables, tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, a few rogue pieces of broccoli and some halves pepperoni slices, an oil based Italian dressing covering it all. Your aunt’s pasta salad, that was the first recipe you ever learned. Next to it, wrapped in cling wrap was a fudgy looking brownie with peanut butter morsels spread throughout. When he looks back up you had taken out two Coke cans from the stash he knows you keep in the bottom part of your giant metal filing cabinet. A pretty hand holding one out to him.  

“I refuse to buy Pepsi, hope you like Coke.”  

“I love Coke,” he takes it from your hand.   

The food tasted as good as it looked, so good only the sound of chewing, plastic forks on Tupperware, and hums of appreciation being heard. It was similar to the first lunch but instead of the awkward, uncertain air, this moment was comfortable, relaxing. Two friends - because that’s what you two have become in this last week - enjoying a meal together.   

It happened fast, Eddie thinks, this comfort between the two of you. Maybe it’s the kindredness between you two, the various similarities you shared.   

“You know, I can cook too,” Eddie breaks the silence. You’re working on your dessert, always saving it for last. Eddie was impatient and devoured his first thing in the most polite way possible. There’s brownie in the corner of your mouth when you give him your attention, humming for him to continue his thought.  

Eddie’s not sure what possesses him to do it. He could play it off as his role of janitor and having a habit of cleaning messes, but he knows that’s not entirely true. He cups one side of your face with his hand, the rings are a nice cold on your warm face. His thumb swiping the crumbs from corner lip in such a natural way you’d think he would have done this to you often. No matter how hard you try, you'd always been a messy eater. You don’t flinch. You don’t even show any signs of this being unusual or unwelcome aside from a slight widening of your eyes.  

Eddie let's another wave of confidence take over him. “Maybe I can cook for you on Saturday night?”  

You nod, mouth still full of brownie and making the executive decision to not be gross and talk with your mouth full in this situation. He smiles and removes his hand from your cheek. Silently, you both find the skin that had just made contact now tingles. It's hard not to think about when you may steal another touch, but the pair of you hope maybe Saturday.  

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