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pinkslashersimp · 2 years

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AHA IM SO SORRY BUT I CANT GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD

what would yandare Hannibal do if his darling was just wandering around the house and somehow Hannibal didn’t notice they were gone (shocker) till 2 minutes later and started searching the house frantically and he found his darling in the library reading a book

(IM SORRY IF IM SENDING IN ALOT OF RQ ITS HARD TO REMEMBER WHOS ACC IS WHOS SO IF I SENT YOU ALOT IM SO SORRY <<333)

YES YES ABSOLUTELY YES ?????

also never feel like ur sending in too many requests, I enjoy writing and love when ppl come back:) its very sweet

mandatory apology for taking so long on reqs, im sorry): im not a procrastinator ive just had a hell of a lot on and havent had a spare minute at all to write): doing my best atm and thankfully now everything has slowed down

TW: yandere behaviour, implied kidnapping, sorta toxic behaviour, Hannibal being a little clingy, possessive behaviour. reader is GN

If any of this triggers you please scroll and keep urself safe🤍

u didnt specify so as a treat ill write for both;)

Yandere Hannibal thinks GN!Reader has ran away🌷💗

NBC Hannibal

Ohshitshitshitshitshitfuckshitsh

Immediate panic at first, he'd taken his eyes off you for no more than two minutes to focus on frying meat for dinner. He hadn't even heard you get up or walk away, which caused him much much more anxiety. Why were you deliberately being quiet? Why are you being so disobedient? Why on earth are you doing this to him??

He’s quick to put everything on hold, take the pan off the grill and turn down the heat, exit the room and head hastily towards the front door. Despite being quite concerned, hes able to mask it well and paint a scarily calm demeanour on himself

Perhaps you’d gotten bored and wandered into the living room? It was the most plausible theory, yet your absence deemed it invalid

Your sudden and unexpected vanishing angered Hannibal greatly. Who were you to try and leave him? He re-checked the kitchen, twice. Then each upper room of his house, ensuring you weren’t hiding from him in childish fashion.

After half an hour, he was tired. Angry, upset, frustrated, and a large mix of emotions that bubbled around inside him, like rising scorching water, it was only a matter of time before it boiled over.

Dealing with all this, he needed to cool off before searching outside for you. He knew if you ran away you couldn’t go far, and if he recaptured you whilst angry he may hurt you.

Sighing heavily, he retreated to the library, only to be met with the sight of you leaning against the libraries ladder, eyes glued firmly to your chosen book. He couldn’t quite make out the cover as the palm of your hand covered it, whilst the other gently gripped the top.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, your eyes drawing themselves away from your page and towards his large frame in the doorway. The sight of him confused and caused you great anxiety, he looked frantic and angry, as if you’d insulted him greatly

“Um, reading…”

Hannibal let out a sigh, and pulled you into a rather tight hug after walking quite quickly toward you. “Tell me when you’re leaving my side, please.”

OG Hannibal

Oh, you’re gone? Okay.

OG Hannibal is very secure in knowing you cannot leave his grasp. Every door in the house is double locked, you don’t have a key, and you’re terribly loud when trying to be quiet.

He knows you really can’t have gone far. It’s impossible. Literally.

He finishes whatever task he was tending to first, taking him around 10 minutes, before cleaning his workspace and seeing where you’d wandered off to

He understands usually you like to indulge in television, much to his dismay, (but he never judges you), and so he checks the living room expecting you to be sat peacefully on the sofa

He opens the door aaaaand…you aren’t there.

Weird, and it puts him on edge a little, but without panicking he checks upstairs. Maybe you were tired? wanted a nap?

No. You aren’t there either.

Just to be extra-double sure, Hannibal checks both doors, ensuring that they’re still double locked and unopened. And thankfully to him, they are.

Now, with the knowledge that you haven’t ran away and you are in fact somewhere in the house away from him, hes angry.

Why are you hiding from him? Is this a game? If it’s a game, he’ll play.

Hannibal checks every room upstairs, under the beds and in the wardrobes, checks behind the shower curtain and any bottom cupboards you might have squeezed yourself in childishly.

Nothing.

It clicks that there’s one last area of the house he hasn’t checked yet: The library.

He creaks open the door, and lets out a laugh when he sees you reading quietly, curled up on his armchair, which causes you to jump and stare up at him, wondering what’s so funny

“Found you!” he states, calmly. “Why are you in here?”

“I wanted to…read?” you reply, confused.

“Tell me next time.”

#slasher headcanons #slashers #yandere slashers #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #hannibal fic #hannibal headcanons #yandere hannibal #yandere hannibal headcanons #yandere hannibal fic #og hannibal #og hannibal headcanons #og hannibal x reader #og hannibal fic #nbc hannibal fic #nbc hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter

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hoodlessmads · 5 months

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Dark Heir spoiler thoughts:

Okay some of these are criticisms but please understand I really liked it! I liked it even more than Dark Rise. I’m just an overdramatic person and need to yell sometimes.

These don’t have any particular order, I’m just freestyling -

Reading Captive Prince years ago (and rereading since) before reading Dark Rise made me have an unfair resentment towards James for being basically the same character as Laurent but not as good and that continued here

Will is the second best character Pacat has ever made after Laurent and book 3 might push him ahead

I loved seeing Will use more and more of his evil powers

The best one being where he possesses anyone with a brand and his eyes turn black and he turns into Legion (maybe shoulda turned that off before trying to appeal to Violet…)

Finding out his mom actually was tying him to bedposts and beating him this whole time somehow shocked me because for some silly reason I believed one of the most unreliable third person subjective narrators ever, Will, that she was a nice lady just doing her best. Anyway I love this revelation because it makes such perfect sense, it’s just, “Oh. Of course.”

Violet and Cyprian are both himbos yet Violet is somehow the only character with a single brain cell left at the end of the book

Cyprian drinking from the cup makes no sense after they had a whole discussion in the first book about how drinking from the cup put the Stewards into the Dark King’s plans and made them his thralls and was the entire reason they died, a massacre which Cyprian experienced viscerally, and then he goes and drinks from the cup anyway and oops surprise Will can in fact enthrall him. Cyprian is able to fight it off but that doesn’t change the complete recklessness and out-of-character-ness of it to me.

Violet/Cyrprian is a good ship

Phillip/Visander is hilarious (in a good way)

Will/James is fine but I wish I was more compelled by them than I actually am. For being the main couple, I don’t feel like their relationship has been given the room it needed to develop organically and instead it feels like we’re falling back on physical attraction and a vague shadow of a past relationship in the old world that we didn’t get to see. It’s hard not to compare to Damen/Laurent which by contrast was developed so painstakingly.

Elizabeth is incredible

Visander sucks, actually

The whole Light kind of sucks. The Stewards, the Sun Kingdom, they were all assholes

People with black-and-white morality are truly terrible, aren’t they? And pretty much everyone is like that except for Will, James, and Violet

Sometimes I felt like that fact was really being hammered in on purpose almost as though to make James murdering like 300 people seem less bad (but it didn’t….)

But I don’t dislike James because he murdered 300 people, I actually love villains and I especially am attached to the idea of everyone being redeemable. But what I don’t like is the book telling me I should like James without giving me a good reason or the book downplaying his actions to make him seem more sympathetic. He can have murdered all the Stewards and still be compelling, we don’t need to diminish what he’s done in order for him to be likable

Also everyone in this book except like, Will and maybe Violet and James is an idiot (and I’ll excuse Elizabeth for only being ten). Someone send these characters to Psych 101, they don’t seem to understand the concept of a self-fulfilling prophecy…

Like obviously if you tell someone they’re evil over and over again for their whole lifetime they will become evil

Theory - I don’t think Violet will turn on Will. I think she’s just shell-shocked. She wasn’t really given a chance to take a stance before James Peter Panned him away. Violet knows exactly what it feels like to be told you are evil because of some past thing, and she knows Will better than any of the other characters. And she knows that morality is not black and white (Tom is her brother). She’ll definitely end up in Will’s corner by the end.

Theory - The line of the Lady and the line of the Dark King are the same bloodline and they split off later. Sarcean’s “cataclysmic night together” with the Lady was mentioned not once but twice. Pacat doesn’t waste lines. The child that the Lady had was Sarcean’s, or at least one of them.

Will better figure out how to destroy that collar quick…before they both get even more traumatized. I think that will be one of his main goals in book 3. Or I hope…otherwise it will be hard to develop the genuine romance

I sure hope Will can also figure out how to expel that shadow from Cyprian before he like… dies. Don’t do that to Violet D:

So, I’m not a huge fan of YA in general (outside of YA anime and manga which for some reason hits different). I used to like it a lot, it used to be most of what I read. I grew up reading series like Redwall, Darren Shan, Demonata, Pendragon, and so on. But I’ve grown out of the genre (I’m 27). Not every adult does - one of my best friends who is a year older than me still really enjoys YA. But because I don’t like YA, I think my enjoyment of Dark Rise/Dark Heir is influenced and my criticisms may be unfair.

But I find that with fantasy series like this, I the books really need to be longer. Or there needs to be more of them. I feel like Dark Rise has so many moving pieces, enough characters that there could be a trading card game (and there are literally collectible cards), so many different magical artifacts and magical powers, an entire magical old world beneath the semi-magical 1820s Europe world to develop, and also by the way a whole story that took place 10,000 years ago that has to be told at some point. I find myself feeling like all these different elements are being introduced and moved on from too fast and I wish they were all given more time to breathe. I think that’s part of why the relationship between Will and James feels a bit rushed to me. I don’t know if the short length of the series was Pacat’s choice or an editor’s, though. I don’t feel like Captive Prince had this issue because there were no supernatural elements, the cast was much smaller, and the plot was comparably simple so a lot of it got to be characters just talking to each other, which was great, and the world building was accomplished mainly through these interactions. The plot and world of Dark Rise is much larger in scope but the page count is the same (a little longer maybe).

So wait who is Mrs. Duval

Why did Ettore leave the Stewards anyway? Other than the obvious, which is that they suck

Where was Grace during the whole ending scene? Wasn’t she there but just not saying anything. As this total calamity befalls her only remaining friend group she finally has seen too much and just nopes out and is busy making tea in the corner or maybe popcorn

I do really like Cyprian btw in spite of thinking his moral code is shitty. Gave Violet a chance but sold Will for one corn chip… I see how it is (okay that’s not fair but you know what I mean, he has flaws)

It sounds like I’m in the majority when I say that I still don’t like Devon - I saw that theory about him being the final big bad and I’m so on that train. I think he’d make a good enough final villain. I agree there is something predatory about him and Tom. I don’t necessarily think Pacat wants us to root for them as a couple, though. There were better ways to pull that off if that was the intent.

Not to repeat myself but Phillip was such a pleasant surprise. Like who is this fruit and how did he get here

So next book, I hope (assume) we get to see the rest of the old world story filled in so we can understand where it all went wrong for Sarcean and also the exact nature of his relationship with Anharion because so far it’s been quite vague (intentionally I assume). Like….. you know….. did he agree to put on the collar?

The tricky thing about this series is that once the reader learns that Will is the Dark King, it’s hard to maintain any sort of external tension. Right? It’s hard to feel afraid of the forces of the Dark when the protagonist has total effortless control over them just by virtue of who he is. Will can literally just be like, “No, don’t” and everything’s fine. He did just this at the end of Dark Rise. I find the way Dark Heir seems to end with their “only hope of stopping the Dark army” destroyed to be pretty unconvincing. Why on earth would Sarcean create a destructible object that is the only way of controlling his own army? Of course Will should be able to control them with his will alone. If he can control Shadow Kings and make them die with his words alone, why didn’t he try yelling at the shadow army to stop trying to possess people? This doesn’t make sense to me. And if people become Returners through his magic, shouldn’t he be able to exert some control over their existence the way he does with the branded? Pacat has done a good enough job at getting us to know Sarcean (an extremely good job btw) so as to make the destroyed brand plot point unbelievable. Anyway…

Instead, the tension in Dark Heir is almost entirely internal or realized in character relationships rather than physical threats. The tension is between Will and himself, and between Will and his friends. (There are tensions between other characters but focusing on the main plot here.) The possibility that they might find out and abandon him, and the possibility that he might actually be as nasty of a guy as Sarcean was, the slim chance that he might learn something that makes him go, “You know what, I agree with my past self after all.”

Now that everyone has found out who he is, that particular source of tension has sort of evaporated, so now in book 3 Pacat has to find a way to make Will’s conflict with himself and his friends compelling enough to carry us through 450 pages (I don’t expect this will be difficult). What I see as the problems now are 1) what was Sarcean actually planning and how did he plan on getting Will (himself) to fall in line with them (this was a question in Dark Heir as well but now it’s bigger), 2) how is Will going to destroy his own (Sarcean’s) Dark artifacts so he can free James, and 3) Can he convince anyone to ever love him (oh no ouch).

If I had to rank these books at this stage I’d probably give Rise a 3.7 ish…. and Heir a 4.2. I’m holding out for Dark King to be a 5 or close. (I don’t know what the actual title will be, I’m just guessing lol.) I definitely think Dark Heir is an improvement over Dark Rise since I always thought the most interesting part of the latter by far was everything that happened once Will learns he is the Dark King at the very end.

“Are we going to talk about the magic pseudo-sex scene—“ No and I hope we never will

#dark rise #dark heir #cs pacat #dark heir spoilers #will kempen #will is the beEEeEeSsst #let me know what you think

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yuurei20 · 4 months

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Does NRC have a nurse or a doctor for the infirmary? I don't think it's ever mentioned outside of Crewel mentioning a nurse briefly during 6-19

Hello hello! At the end of Book 6 Crowley reveals that "Night Raven College has resident counselors and medical mages appointed by the Department of Education," so it seems that there are multiple medical professionals on campus!

But we have not seen any of them yet, with Crewel tending to the prefect's injuries himself in Book 6 rather than wait for a nurse, saying that he will also look out for Ace and Deuce.

The infirmary also appears in Book 2, but the nurse does not: neither in the game nor in the novelization (this scene has yet to appear in the manga, where the Savanaclaw arc is still ongoing).

Riddle mentions the infirmary at the end of Book 6 and, afterwards, we learn that his hair color has been restored, but it is not technically specified that it was a medical mage at the school who healed him.

Vil says that, post-overblot, they all went to medical mages, "who gave us proper counseling and treatment," and these may have been the medical mages of Sage's Island.

Trey says that Riddle and the other overblotters received "proper medical treatment and had a complete recovery."

To answer the initial question: Yes! There do seem to be "world-class medical facilities" on Sage's Island (according to Idia), including counselors and medical professionals at the school, but we have yet to meet them.

Searching about for theories on the school's medical staff I found a conversation about who the nurse(s) and/or doctor(s) might be twisted from (if they ever appear in game), which is fascinating to think about! Maybe an addition to the staff one day might not be impossible?

(The potential characters discussed in the thread are Yzma (Emperor's New Groove), Captain Hook (Peter Pan), Mother Gothel (Rapunzel) and Lotso (Toy Story 3), with one person offering up Rafiki (Lion King) as a potential nurse at RSA.)

#twstask

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atinylittlepain · 3 months

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Maybe, probably, definitely

college!steve harrington x f!oc

A continuation of Warm. Steve and Andy are keeping things casual... or maybe not.

18+ 90s au in which I fuck with the timeline, smut, two scrungly idiots in love, Robin and Eddie being Robin and Eddie, generally a fun little silly little time okay? okay.

.................................................

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Please, it’s so obvious.”

“I just think it’s unlikely, is all. He had like, women losing their minds over him, still does.”

“Okay, and? Have you seen the videos of him and Clarence kissing?” Easy, easy, and warm in her little corner kitchen, something steaming and savory stirring in the pot on the stove, her hip bumping against his every time she steps away and back to add a pinch or a glug of something else to the soup, making his cheeks round and pinken every time she slides half a smile his way. He laughs, shakes his head, and she pulls a face at him, pointing her wooden spoon at his chest.

“What’s so unbelievable about Bruce being bisexual?”

“Nothing, nothing, I just don’t think there’s enough evidence for or against your theory yet.”

“So you’re a Springsteen agnostic?” Two bowls and two spoons and one bowl and one spoon is for him, and how lovely, how lovely to have a place here with her, slipping into her spot in front of the stove to serve them both while she slices a few pieces of bread.

“Gonna have to see a little more evidence, honey.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll keep building my case. Robin agrees with me, you know.” He’s not sure what he makes of Andy and Robin being friends before they had even been introduced. It had caught him off guard, Andy coming with him to one of Eddie’s gigs, and her and Robin chatting with an easy familiarity. Robin had failed to mention that they’re both in some kind of feminist consciousness-raising group on campus, and have been for two years.

“Well, Robin thinks everyone’s a little gay so, I’m still not convinced.” Darkness On the Edge of Town is crackling and crooning in her cassette deck, Springsteen walking Streets of Fire, sending them both into a little sway at the counter, the light turning blue and dim in the little square window above the sink, frost filaments and threads around the edges of the panes. And the bread she’s slicing is from some friend of a friend who’s gotten into sourdough, because Andy has friends who get into sourdough, though when she pulls the loaf apart it looks more like chewed gum than bread in the middle. They make do with a few tortillas fried and folded with a fistful of cheese in a pan instead, settling down around each other with steaming bowls on the couch.

“Oh hey, Syl, hey, baby.” The baby in question is digging her claws into his pants leg and crawling up his thigh. Steve hadn’t met Sylvia until the third or fourth time he stayed over, woken up from a deep, warm sleep to something tugging at his scalp. He thought it had been Andy being a little mean in that way he likes, a halfway delirious smile spreading and bleary eyes opening and he had been very wrong, met with the sight of a creature curled up next to his face and chewing on the ends of his hair. Emphasis on the word creature, not cat, no. And when he returned to his own apartment that morning and told Robin he met Sylvia, she had promptly said oh, the ballsack cat, yeah. He was inclined to agree with her on that title, and is still inclined to agree now, watching the hairless animal’s wrinkles curl and fold as she climbs up his chest, bap, bap, bapping at his throat while Steve holds his bowl of soup overhead and out of her swiping range. Andy keeps telling him that Sylvia likes him, even as she curls her hand around the cat’s middle to peel her off him, her claws catching in his sweater and she really likes you, Stevie. Yeah, he’s not so sure about that. But Andy’s cooed Stevie softens him, just a little.

“Are you playing this weekend?”

“Yeah, just a round robin thing on Saturday with some other teams.”

“Can I come watch?

“If you want to, I don’t know if it’s gonna be that interesting though.” Andy had come to watch a few of his club basketball games last weekend, and yeah, maybe a little puff of pride in his chest, maybe hustling a little faster, maybe taking more shots. And afterward, when his team mates asked him if that was his girl cheering for him on the bleachers, he had sniffed, and pointedly informed them that she’s not a girl, she’s a woman.

“On the contrary, I think those shorts you wear are very interesting.”

“Are you objectifying me right now?” Her thumb and forefinger pinch together, smile scrunching to the side as she tries to hold in a laugh.

“What can I say, you have a very objectifiable ass.”

“I knew it, knew you just wanted me for my body.” An easy shuffle, both of them dissolving in a breath of laughter and soup bowls being set aside and Andy’s aw poor baby, how’s it feel coming out breathless as she settles her thighs around his hips, making him bark a single high note when her hands creep down his back and down into his back pockets and squeezing as best she can with her hands squished between him and the couch.

“If you rip these tights I’m never kissing you again.” His hands wandering, bunching up the dark green fabric of her dress, pretty thing that he watched flutter around her shins on the walk from class to her apartment. He palms her ass, fingers pressing greedy into the fat covered by knit brown tights, little pinch, little pull of the fabric and snapped back, making her huff at him.

“I don’t think I could if I tried. They’re fucking thick, how am I gonna get you out of these, huh?”

“It’s cold out, Steven. I need them to stay warm.” And of course, of course, if she pitches one down the middle he’s gonna swing, his grin turning smarmy as he tilts his chin up to smack a kiss to her mouth that lands more on her cheek with the way she ducks him, him mouthing into her skin I’ll keep you warm, honey.

Andy cut all her hair off recently, leaving a spiky bob that’s a little too short to be called a bob and he likes it. Before, he’d hide his face in the fan of her hair, tucking his nose into the juncture of her neck and breathing deeply. Now it’s wildly easy access to let his mouth drag up the column of her throat, making her squirm in his hands, little tug to his hair where her fingers are threaded through mean. And somewhere in the background the piano is spilling out a desperate tune and Clarence is breathing hard into his sax and Bruce is whining in that dark rasp about proving it all night, girl, I’ll prove it all night for your love and he’s humming the words into her sternum while they stumble and shrug off the couch, a small whirlwind of him rucking her dress up and up and off and she’s in nothing but that damn pair of tights, her spine curling beneath his hands when he ducks his head down and presses the open heat of his mouth over her nipple, long sigh, and another stumble up against the wall next to her bedroom door.

He’s doomed, he knows it. How badly he wants her, and when he gets her, how needy, how greedy. Got up at seven this morning to walk across campus and shovel her stoop because she had complained about nearly slipping the other day, and it was worth it when she came down still in her robe and soft an sleepy and pulled him inside to press kisses to the already red tips of his ears and his cheeks and his nose, let him sit with a warm cup of coffee and watch her roll those tights up her legs while she told him about a paper she’s writing about Jane Ussher’s conception of critical realism. He did his best to listen, to hold onto the details even as his brain wandered to the soft drop of her breasts as she leaned over herself. And it’s extra terrible, he thinks, that she seems to want him just as much, or close to it, at least, her hands slipping up under his sweater, the light scratch of her nails against his stomach, swallowing the whine that loosens in his chest when her fingers dip under the waistband of his jeans. Hands and teeth and tongues and give and take and an indignant chirp from somewhere at their feet when he steps on what he’s pretty sure was a paw, a murmured sorry ball– sorry, Sylvia when he closes the bedroom door before the cat can slip inside with them because no, not making that mistake again. And when he turns back around, he finds her standing there devastatingly smug, because she knows, she knows how freakishly foolish she has turned him, her hands on her hips and still in her tights and that little spill of softness over the waist of them and he wants to put his mouth there, there, and bite down just a little. Normal want, right? Right.

“Come here.” She says it again, quiet c’mere with her shoulder hiked up and her cheek dropped to the slope of it and he’s never saying no to that, bare feet padding and hands finding the soft spill of her waist, her hips, tugging down and down and down on his knees and he’s got her laughing with how he holds onto her ankle to help her step out of the rolled-down fabric of her tights, pressing a kiss to the notch of bone there for good measure. Being with her, around her, he finds himself doing things he would have scoffed at, things the king would have scoffed at. But she makes him feel young and dumb in that giddy, good way, new, makes him forget the rules he had made for himself to make things like this easier. There is nothing, he has realized, that has been quite like this.

For all the teasing, all the little taunts, she’s gentle where it counts. Makes him feel like something good, something real beneath her hands and her mouth, gentle when she pulls off his sweater and smooths back his hair from his face, always doing that with a kiss pressed to a temple, his brow, the crinkle that pulls next to his eye because he’s always smiling like a fool around her. And when they’re both bare, a little breathless from all the little pets, little kisses, curled around each other with her duvet tugged down around their hips because sweat is starting to build and pool in the soft hollows of their skin, they hold onto each other through the soft shake of it, hips and bellies and that sweet, simple sate. He comes with his face pressed against her heart, sweat and salt stinging his eyes and her hands holding him steady and she hums his name as a high sound in her throat, and he thinks that this could maybe, probably, definitely be called love.

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?” He can see the shadow of her smile, the streetlight outside casting a warm wash over the bed, shadows of snowfall speckled on her cheek.

“Should probably get a shower.”

“Probably.” Even as he says it he’s pulling her closer, her feet hooked around his ankles, bare chest to bare chest and her hands tucked under his arms, thumbs brushing down the rungs of his ribs, sweat cooling a little humid, the beat of their hearts lulling slow in the aftermath.

“I don’t have class in the morning, do you?”

“At eleven, macroeconomics.”

“How bleak, gonna solve the debt crisis?”

“For you, I’ll try.”

“Oh please, Steve, you can’t just say stuff like that.” Little shove to his chest, though he just holds her tighter.

“Why not?”

“You’re gross. We’re gross.”

“The grossest, honey.”

“I like that.”

“What, being gross?”

“No, you calling me honey, I like that. No one’s called me that before, it’s cute.” He likes the feeling of the soft, melting line of her body pressed snug against his, her words breathed out on a sigh somewhere between sleep and not.

“Noted, honey.”

“You’re such a dick, Do you wanna do breakfast in the morning?” A quiet mmhmm, mmhmm? mmhmm from both of them. Sleep, he finds, comes easily like this.

And in the morning, they wake up in a different tangle, both on their stomachs, her arm slung between his shoulder blades and his hand curled around her hip. They move with half-opened eyes and hoarse voices, hot shower and cool bathroom tiles and he’ll just wear his clothes from yesterday to class, he doesn’t care. But she still offers him a clean sweatshirt from that co-op she said she worked at freshman year (don’t laugh, Steven, I had free produce for months) and he puts it on, leaves the hood up to smell more of her while he watches her move around her kitchen from the little table tucked into the corner of the room. Sylvia pads over, sniffs at his bare feet and licks his pinky toe before clawing up the leg of his jeans with her front paws, stretching out and peering up at him. He gives her a cursory pat between her ears, and she doesn’t seem to care for that, a low rumbling noise that sounds like a complaint as she pushes off of his leg and slinks over to settle on the arm of the couch.

“I have this leftover pumpkin bread, do you want some?” Said over her shoulder while she stirs eggs in a pan, her jeans half-unbuttoned and the hem of her sweater rolled up to expose the bare round of her hip. And it’s a simple thought, but it’s true, he likes looking at her.

“Is it from the friend who got into sourdough?”

“Be nice, she just started. And no, it’s from that bakery we went to last weekend.” And so there’s scrambled eggs with sharp cheese, how he likes them, and chopped peppers, how she likes them, and strong coffee, how they both like it, and a heel of pumpkin bread just starting to go stale that they make easy work of, breaking off pieces and dipping it into their coffee, quiet and their knees brushing with how close they are on chairs tucked into her small table.

He leaves her place with a warm stomach and a swimming mind and the kiss she pressed to his cheek still blooming heat even in the snap of snow and cold. And whatever the professor lectures about in his eleven o’clock class is lost to him, sorry, he’s there but not there. There but still in the doorway of her apartment, and her all but shooing him off because I made you breakfast, that’s enough domesticity for the day, mean but not meaning it. He’d linger in her doorway all day if she let him, he thinks, fail all his classes, be presumed dead to the world, and he’d probably enjoy doing it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Robin in the kitchen when he gets back to their apartment, dipping a banana directly into the peanut butter jar, and he doesn’t have enough of a mind to scold her for it.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Where’d you get that sweatshirt? Is it new? I haven’t seen it before.”

“It’s Andy’s.”

“Oh, that’s what’s wrong with you. Did you sleep over? I didn’t hear you come home last night. How is your lady friend?” A waggle of her eyebrows as she pockets her last bite of banana in her cheek. He tries to side step her, and she mimes his movement easy enough, blocking his exit from their kitchen, her grin spreading.

“Rob, please, I have a paper I need to–”

“Oh, oh, I know that look.” And before he can ask her what she means by that she’s already shouting down the hall for Eddie because emergency family meeting is needed in the kitchen, thank you very much.

“What’s going on?” Easier to ride this out, to let Robin tug him into the living room and sit him down, Eddie on her heels.

“Steve’s in love.”

“What? Robin–”

“Wait, with cool girl? Fuck, what’s her name again?”

“This is seriously none of your business, and–”

“Andy, with the boots, you met her last week.”

“We’re both casual, it’s casual, it’s a casual–”

“That’s right. I like her. Good work, Steven, you somehow found someone normal and cool this time. Remember that last chick?”

“Hey–”

“With the hair?”

“She was–”

“And that perfume, woof.”

“Andy isn’t–”

“I’m pretty sure she was eating my leftovers out of the fridge, you know.”

“I’m not–”

“No, really? Wouldn’t put it past her, that girl was—”

“Are you two done yet?” Mercifully, it’s enough to get them to stop their little back and forth, mouths shutting and faces turning to look at him like twin imps.

“You’re in love, Steve, and before you say something like ugh Robin, no I’m not, ugh Robin, how could you possibly know that, I know these things, okay?”

“I don’t talk like that.” Eddie taps in, Robin standing smug with her arms crossed over her chest.

“She’s right, man, you’ve been kinda, well, yeah.”

“What does that mean?” And what follows is another volley between his wretched roommates, Steve somewhere in the middle, dumbstruck.

“Sighing around the apartment like a kicked dog.”

“Getting snitty when you’re about to leave for one of your dates.”

“You smile like a freak when she’s around. Like a creepy, beautiful, vaguely Germanic doll.”

“You talk about her all the time. Like, all the time.”

“You’re in love, man.”

“Indubitably so.”

“Hey, I say congrats, I actually like this one. Rob?”

“I concur, bring her for dinner, this family meeting is adjourned.” Just like that, Robin rubbing her hands together in one loud clap and Steve doesn't even have a chance to get a word in edgewise, both her and Eddie already in their coats and their shoes and out the door because they both have class in twenty and bye, loverboy. He’s left on the couch in something close to a stupor.

Maybe, probably, definitely he thinks. Though he’s not going to admit that to Robin or Eddie. God forbid they get one right.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #steve harrington one shot

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drkmgs · 11 months

Text

Tyler's Sibling

Wednesday Addams x Reader Galpin

Story type: multiple chapters

Warning: Sibling issue, scar arm, trauma, paint blood...

I know it's been a while... I'm sorry...

previous chapter

After you lost consciousness at the Weathervane, your father strictly advised you to stay home and not to go to work. You have been resting in your room, thinking about what happened three weeks ago. You had a Zoom meeting with your doctor discussing nonsense theories as to what and why it happened. It was clear that these professionals also don't have the answers.

It would be nice if you had at least one friend, but who would befriend you? You were too normal for an outcast and too weird for a normie. Your brother doesn't care about you. He has his own demons and problems to solve. Your father is far too busy, and if he was home, him and Tyler would just bite each other's heads off.

You sighed as you sat up on your bed and looked out the window. You got startled when a hand knocked on your window. Hesitantly, you opened it and let the hand enter. He signed you a thank you and continued with how different your reaction was compared to your brother. You learned that the hand's name is Thing, and he is one of the Addams.

You talked to him like a person, which Thing actually appreciated. You and Thing were so immersed with your conversation that it was almost time for him to go, and Thing had to return to Nevermore. You let him out the window and asked him if he could come back to keep you company. He did a little nod and crawled away.

Not long after, you saw a figure sneaking around the house. You got up, exited your room, and made your way downstairs. You jumped a little when you hear the back door rattle. You slowly made your way to the door, grabbing a pan on the way. You were ready to hit the intruder when you realized it was just your brother. Sneaking back inside the house.

"Woah! Woah!" He said and took the pan out of your hand. "Where were you, and why are you sneaking into the house? Dad is not home yet." You took a step back, letting him close the door. He passed by you, and that's when you noticed the suit he was holding. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Wednesday asked me to be her date for the Rave'N." He held up the suit and ran upstairs, probably to get ready.

Your head went into spiral. She asked him? So, why did she kiss you? Was it to clear her head? Was she confused? You and Tyler do look similar, but you were certain she said she came for you that night. Thinking too much made you dizzy. With the help of the furniture around you, you got yourself back to your room. You dropped yourself onto the bed, curling inside your warm blanket, which helped you fall into sleep.

You got woken up by an extreme pain. You screamed on top of your lungs. Gripping on your arm. Sheriff Galpin burst into your room, already trying to soothe you. Then his phone rang through the house, and he gently lay you back down on your pillow. By now, you were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

"Y/N. I need you to come with me. Come on." He said as soon as he hung up the phone. He made you sit up and put one of your jackets on you and then warped you with one of your blankets. You're still clinging on to your arm as if it's going to fall off, and it does feel like it. Once he was finished, he gathered everything he needed and guided you towards the truck, and let you sit by the passenger side. He made sure you were wearing your seatbelt and then drove away.

At some point, you did register where you're headed. Once you past the metal gates, you knew you're at the Nevermore grounds. In your dizzy visions, you could see teenagers running out of the building, covered in blood? Your Dad said something, but your brain didn't register any of it. All you could do was watch him exit the vehicle and storms inside the school.

As soon as he was gone inside, you saw Wednesday covered in blood running past the truck into the woods. You looked around for a hot minute to see if your brother was following her, but no sign of him. You unbuckled your seatbealt and jumped out the truck, following Wednesday.

You called after her in between hissing at the pain shooting through your arm. "Would you stop for a minute?!" You shouted, and that made the girl stop. "Care to explain what is happening? and why are you covered in blood?" You exhaled heavily from chasing her. "It's not blood. It's paint, and right now is not the time. We need to find Eugene!" "The bee boy?" With that, both of you continued to run deeper into the woods. "Eugene!" Wednesday called out, and not even a second both of you hear him. "Wednesday!" The closer you get to him, the pain in your arm grows.

You were just a couple of meters away from him when you heard a screeching scream. Wednesday ran towards the direction, you just behind her, for some reason, you keep looking behind you and bumped into Wednesday. As soon as you turned around and saw Eugene's body, you dropped to the ground.

Everything went black.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday series #wednesday netflix

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bitethehnd · 1 month

Note

omg i’ve had the biggest brainrot over ur naomi & taylor!reader & rewatching the eras tour i have 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ thoughts

i can imagine reader! having a chat w naomi when they’re ready to make it official and actually tell everyone they’re together (god knows everyone’s figured it out but shh let them have their moment) & reader! asks if they can make it official during the show but doesn’t tell Naomi how,, they’re just like trust me it’ll be good and naomi is like ok !! anything for u !! & during karma reader! sings “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” & they somehow get naomi’s live reaction on the big screen megatron thing of reader fully making it official to everyone mid show and they’re just in AWE

& in the same show when reader! sings “you’re in love” they do a lil speech about how this song was written for someone else completely and after everything that went down, they hated this songs because it brought back so many bad memories (or something) but now they have someone who makes them feel like this song is the reason for existence again and it just cuts to lil naomi sobbing aAAA i truly love that fic so much i still have so many thoughts about it thank u thank u thank u

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ you are in love

pairing : naomi mcpherson x popstar!reader

a/n : ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN KISS KISS

at this point during your eras tour, the two of you are already together. you think you’re all sneaky but literally everyone knows… naomi looks at you like you gave them the moon so it’s quite obvious, but everyone lets you two have your fun!

the first people you told were obviously katie and jo. they both had fake surprised looks on their faces but said the two of you deserved to be happy. then ensue the countless jokes and comments from jo.

the boys were thrilled too! since phoebe had also opened for you, she had taken a guess that you two had a thing for each other and then her suspicions were confirmed. julien fist pumped naomi and lucy gave you a big hug!! you guys are adorable fr.

next came telling the world about the relationship. you two held off for a few months, wanting privacy, but it seemed twitter was already aware of it. everyone had their theories and some were so outrageous that you just wanted to tell everyone yourself.

you told naomi your feelings on the matter and they immediately agreed, no questions asked. they were ready to show you off and not have to hide. you suggested doing it during your next show, and like anon said, naomi is just like “whatever my princess wants, she gets!!! anything for her!!”

you quickly put your plan into motion. you decided your surprise song for the next show would be “you are in love” from 1989. it perfectly described how you felt about naomi. you came up with some ideas for the speech you would give before hand and it went something like this…

“the next song that i’m going to play is one that i haven’t performed in so long. i wrote it about someone who i thought was going to be my forever, but it just didn’t end up that way and it left me with some sad memories. i have never felt the need to play this song since then, but now everything has changed. even if i originally wrote this about someone else, my partner renewed it into something so pure and now has a reason to exist again. i love you.”

the camera doesn’t pan to naomi just yet, since you wanted to build suspense. for dramatic effect, of course. but jo and katie make sure to get their reaction on video. it’s just naomi basically happy crying and laughing with tears under their eyes. even when you guys are a whole stadium apart, the invisible string between you is there.

when it was finally time for the last era of songs, from midnights, you were planning to do a lyric swap in “karma.” the actual lyric was “karma is my girlfriend,” but obviously naomi was not a girl and the song originally wasn’t written about them, you planned to change it to something that made you happier. when the time came to sing “karma,” you looked right into the vip section where naomi was and sang “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” cut to the camera panning to naomi and they’re just giddy, laughing and crying all at the same time. when you told them you were going to make it official, this is definitely not how they imagined it, but they weren’t complaining.

you just wanted to show the world your love for them and honestly didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. the two of you just existed in your own little bubble, feeling like you were just singing to them.

after the show was over and naomi practically sprinted backstage, their beaming smile lit up the room as they saw you. they pulled you in for a fierce hug and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead.

“that was the sweetest thing in the entire world, baby. i love you so much.”

“so you liked it? it wasn’t too much?”

“never. that was, like, magical. can’t believe you did all that for me.”

“i’d do anything for you, nom.”

#bitethehnd #naomi mcpherson x reader #naomi mcpherson x you #naomi mcpherson au #naomi mcpherson fluff #naomi mcpherson fanfic #muna x reader #muna fanfic #popstar!reader

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baronessblixen · 7 months

Note

Can't help myself also #18 😍😍😍

This prompt is almost a year old now. The prompt is from a list with different kinds of kisses. 18 is "secret kiss".

This is cotton candy-flavored fluff set after "Millennium": Mulder and Scully go to Mrs. Scully's house and find themselves all alone for a moment... (wc: 1,089)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 1: Secret Spots

Her mother doesn’t bat an eye when she arrives with Mulder in tow. She starts fussing as soon as she sees his arm in a sling and tired puppy eyes. Mulder throws Scully her a guilty look, but she sneaks in a hand squeeze to let him know it’s okay. How often does he get someone to fuss over him? Except for her and she’s his doctor. That doesn’t count.

As her mother leads him inside, asking him how he’s feeling, if he’s hungry, or thirsty, and whether she should make him some tea, Scully ruminates about his own mother. From the one phone call they shared over Christmas, she gathered that he was staying home, spending the holiday by himself. Several times she swallowed the need to invite him. Get on a plane, and get to San Diego. But she didn’t ask. The question hung between them and she knows - just like she knew then - that even if she had asked, he would have politely said no.

Today, he didn’t. She doesn’t know if it’s the painkillers. Though if she’s honest, it can’t be. They only gave him ibuprofen this time. Same as her. It didn’t seem necessary to get two prescriptions so they’re sharing a bottle. She doesn’t let herself wonder why it feels so eerily intimate. It could be that he’s in more pain than he lets on. Another theory that doesn’t pan out. He’s been smiling too much for that. He’s been too chatty, too. She knows her Mulder in every which way. Almost every which way, she reminds herself as she follows him and her mother into the kitchen, blushing like a schoolgirl. There’s one way she doesn’t know him yet. And that brings her to the only possible conclusion why today of all days he didn’t decline when she asked him to come with her to her mother’s New Year’s Day shindig.

Their kiss.

“Dana, do you want a tea too?” Both her mother and Mulder are giving her matching expectant looks.

“Tea? Um, sure.”

“You sound tired, dear,” he mother says, starting the kettle. “Why don’t you both go sit down in the living room? Say hello to the neighbors.”

Mulder’s reassuring smile fades away as soon as they enter the living room. “I thought your mom said this was a small affair.” Scully nods, scanning the room. Her mother clearly has a different definition of small than she does. There are people everywhere. On the couch, on the chairs, and standing in the corners. The indistinct chatter is a constant noise that’s giving her a headache.

“If this is a small party,” Mulder says, sounding in awe. “Then I really must see what’s a big party in the Scully house.”

“We had one at Christmas,” she says, trying to find familiar faces. They all blur together. Scully finds herself swaying, her head spinning.

“Hey there.” Mulder’s voice is a mere whisper in her ear, giving her goosebumps. His hand cups her elbow, holding her upright. “I think you should sit down.”

“Where?” she whispers back.

“This is your mother’s house,” he says. “I’m sure you know a few secret spots.” He waggles his eyebrows at her and she gets dizzy for entirely different reasons. Worried that a few of the guests might have slipped outside to smoke, she takes Mulder upstairs. The noise quiets down with every step they take.

“Am I going to see your room?” There’s excitement in his voice.

“Hmm,” she replies. She didn’t think this through. And any second now, her mother is going to look for them and not find them in the living room. She spins around, having changed her mind, and crashes into Mulder’s solid form.

“I see why you brought me upstairs.” The chuckle vibrates through him and she feels it against her cheek. “You just wanted me all to yourself.”

“Did I hurt your arm?” She ignores his innuendo, carefully touching his bandaged arm. She keeps her head low, not wanting him to see that she’s blushing furiously. Who knew that a kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve could still reduce her to an emotional mess in her 30s?

“No pain at all.” Mulder’s voice is a low rumble that makes her stomach somersault. “But hey, Scully?” He tips her chin up. “Are you okay? You look flushed. You’ve been all over me because of my arm, but the zombies got you too.”

“I’m fine.” He shakes his head slowly, looking at her intently. She gets it; any word but that.

“No pain at all,” she parrots. “Mulder, why did you say yes when I asked you to come with me to my mother’s?”

“You don’t want me here?” She touches his cheek, hoping to wipe away the hurt she sees flicker over his face.

“I do want you here,” she says with emphasis. “But usually you say no. I know Mom has invited you over before, and you’ve always declined.”

“Maybe I wanted to try something new this year.”

“My mom loves you,” Scully says, not taking her eyes off his face. He nods.

“I know.” His gaze is just as intense. He knows what she’s trying to tell him, but can’t. They’ve waited seven years to kiss. They don’t need to check all the boxes in one day. They have a whole year to, as Mulder says, try something new.

“We should go back downstairs.”

“I haven’t seen your room yet.”

“Later,” she promises and his eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t mean-” but maybe she did. Maybe that’s exactly what she meant. “Later,” she repeats and he nods, his face eager. “Now come on.” She takes his hand but before they descend the stairs, she presses him against the wall – into that one spot Missy showed her one time. The one where her parents couldn’t see what was going on. And that’s where she kisses Mulder. She kisses him long and hard, deep and promising. He gasps into her mouth and uses his good arm to hold her as close as he can.

“There you two – oh!” They jump apart guiltily. Mulder smooths his hair, even though the lipstick on his mouth is the far greater tell. Scully colors crimson, staring at her mother wide-eyed and speechless. “The tea is ready.” She’s smiling at them both as if she didn’t just catch them making out like teenagers.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully.” Mulder finds his voice first.

“I think it's time you call me Maggie, Fox." And she winks at them.

#fictober23 #so here it is #using millennium to ease into this #i have probably written a very similar story before #but i gotta like start small #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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lightwise · 2 months

Text

TBB S3 E4 Recap and Reaction

- Poor Crosshair keeps getting stuck on cold planets.

- Batcher banging on the chair ready to get out 🤣🤣

- These shuttles are really interesting to me. It’s rare to see a ship that size that can be piloted by two different people.

- Baby girl, I totally understand your logic in wanting to pull the data logs to see where Tantiss actually is, but given how tactful we know Hemlock has been so far in keeping his location hidden, most likely it wouldn’t pull up anything.

- What a dreary spaceport. Feels very Andor and very like Norwegian Star Wars.

- The level of snark that Omega is giving back to Crosshair is cracking me up. We don’t see her showing this level of talking back or being sarcastic with any of the other Batchers, which proves my theory that Crosshair’s constant level of highly annoyed at everything around him brings out the sarcasm in everyone else he encounters.

- Love that his knowledge as a former imperial is coming to play to help them.

- Also love that Omega was the one to recognize that they need different clothes (and the obvious pan of the camera on the clothes hanging on the line in the first shot of the spaceport to accentuate that fact).

- Quilted clothes in Star Wars is my fave (yes more Andor parallels).

- The uplilt and little scoff that Omega gives and the look she gives Batcher after Crosshair snarls about bringing “the hound” along is PRECIOUS

- Also Cross and Omega cross their arms the same way. Okay okay I’ll never be over their dynamic here.

- Crosshair’s trucker hat/scuba apparatus is hilarious. He doesn’t look too bad though. Surely he’s at least warmer now.

- The credits negotiation omg. I love how Cross is just waiting for this to play out before he makes a move.

- YES omg are my baby girls strategy skills FINALLY coming back into play??

- Oh no no no no no this kid is going to rat them out isn’t he. You guys need to be more mindful of your surroundings!! Ahhh (okay I’m glad this didn’t happen).

- Honestly at this point Crosshair would be me as well. Just lots of very annoyed sighing.

- I love that Crosshair is getting to see all the things about Omega that the other boys know already, but he hasn’t had a chance to witness yet. We know she can wipe the floor with most people on strategy games/gambling.

- Yep nope this captain is not good news. Don’t get distracted by ranting about Imperial bribery, don’t do it, don’t….*sigh* I hate the Empire so much.

- Oh no this is so bad! I swear WHY is every imperial such a slimy self aggrandizing POS.

- Aww Crossy hunched down at almost table level ready to tear the room apart if anyone touches his baby sister. Adorable murder kitten. 😸

- Also Crosshair when all of this is over: where the HELL did you learn to gamble like that!?! Omega: 🤷🏻‍♀️😇😁

- Also also what game are they playing? Those cards are beautiful.

- Oh no they’ve found the shuttle already. Dear god this episode is so stressful!!

- CROSS!DAD IS OFFICIALLY CANON lmao

- Okay I was hoping Omega would let him win bc this isn’t going to go over well

- Whoa I didn’t actually expect him to concede. Maybe he’s not quite as slimy as I thought. Doesn’t matter though, the shuttle will give them away regardless.

- Of course. There it is. Let all the seedy businesses thrive as long as you get your fine out of it. Ugh. This is paralleling a lot of imperial activities in Rebel Rising and the Ahsoka novel as well.

- I also love how Omega uses touch with Crosshair to calm him down and communicate with him.

- Whoa I did not expect Omega to throw the credits and basically give Crosshair the choice of abandoning her or not. Nor for him to actually have to think about it for a moment.

- “My skills are being wasted” the boy does not like feeling helpless. I understand.

- This is going to give Cross some understanding of what Hunter has been going through the last few years. Especially if he ends up losing her.

- “Don’t push it” and the extra head shake after lmao.

- Geez this man is just lining his pockets every which way isn’t he. Despicable.

- “Alright, let’s try things your way” “Finally” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

- Animal stampede!

- Oh gosh is Cross going to get left behind??

- Aw he finally called her Batcher.

- We are clearly seeing how much Omega has actually been tempered by the rest of the Batchers being around her until now. The unfiltered combined powers of Omega and Crosshair at their most unhinged is maybe more than the galaxy is ready for 🤣🤣

- Also a very Andor reference with the captain being stampeded almost to death and having his gun kicked away from him in the melee

- NO WAY WE FINALLY GET AN IMPERIAL GETTING THEIR DUE BY CREATURE DEATH once again *cough cough* not a kids show

- Awwww Batcher licking Crosshair’s face. He’s so done for.

- They got away. Wow. I actually wasn’t expecting that. And with most of the money too.

- Okay. Smart girl. She did not pick Pabu.

- What an ending. Wow. So. Similar to Mando season 3 (which is also scaring me) — what the heck is the rest of this season going to be about?

- This reunion is everything. 🥹🥹🥹 the hugs. The running. The tears. The worry. The anger. The hesitation. The fear. The literal and metaphorical distance between their ships that someone will have to cross. They better not fast forward a millisecond when the next episode picks up I swear.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3

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max1461 · 7 months

Text

I was asked by @cardassian-artistry:

I don't want to argue or anything, I'm just curious. What are your critiques of Marxist economics?

Ok, so, I want to clarify that I am neither an economist nor a Marx scholar. I am an informed lay person, who has also had the opportunity to spend a lot of time talking to my close friend who is an economist (well, sort of; his work is at the intersection of econ and CS). He's also very left-wing, and we've both read the relevant portions of Marx and have discussed Marx's place in the history of economics quite a lot, so I have, I think, more informed opinions on this particular topic than most people.

Right, ok, so there are a few things to note about Marx's economic theories. The first is that he does not really propose any sort of economic model in the modern sense. Ideally, an economic model should be predictive (probably a lot of Marxists will already disagree at this point, but I think it's not worth arguing with them because I doubt I will convince anyone). That is to say, an economic model should look at measurable quantities about some part of the economy, and relate these quantities to other measurable quantities, so that we can make predictions about how the economy will behave under different conditions.

Many modern day, orthodox economic theories do not meet these criteria. Those theories are also bad. Or, more accurately: they aren't even theories at all, they're just like, vague ideas. We should have higher standards than that for our economic models.

Anyway, predictivity: Marx mostly doesn't attempt to achieve this. He sort of gestures at a specific, predictive model when he talks about "congealed labor time" (I'll get to this) and so on, but he doesn't make it mathematically or measurementally precise enough to actually use it for anything, or to test if it's true. So there's a sense in which, by the epistemic standards I hold at least, Marx's theory of the economy is not actually saying very much to begin with.

Marx does, however, make some qualitative but testable claims. These are mostly sort of divorced from his economic theories as such, it seems to me, but they are claims pertaining to the economy, so they're worth evaluating. Most prominently, he claims that capitalism is bound to undo itself and give way to communism, via proletarian revolution. He very much thought this was going to happen in his lifetime or in the period immediately after. This did not pan out. You can make excuses for why this hasn't happened yet, as the early Christians did when the rapture didn't come, but I don't think any of these excuses are very convincing. He claimed this and he was wrong. As others have pointed out, at least Marx made a claim which could be proved wrong, which is braver than many thinkers—and probably cannot be said of many of his contemporaries in classic economics.

The second big point about Marx's understanding of the economy is that it comes largely from Adam Smith, whose work he studied intensely. Marx's early work is less concerned with the technical details of the economy, and was of course influenced above all else by Hegel. But Marx's later, more economic work draws very heavily from Smith.

Adam Smith's work has all the same problems. Economists like Smith, Marx, and Ricardo set the groundwork for what would come later, but their understanding of how economies actually behave was both far too simplified and far too mathematically unsophisticated to be useful as such.

And, right, this brings us to the labor theory of value, which Marx also gets from Smith. Well, modern economic theories tend not to use a "theory of value" at all, because… what does that even mean? How do you measure "value"?

Is "value" price? That's something you can measure! But Marx seems to say "no", value is not just price. And if value was price, then Marx's theory of value would be straightforwardly false. Marx claims that the value of a good is proportional to the average labor time it takes to produce that good in the given society in which the good is being produced. Well, this is not true of price (in Marxian terms, "exchange value"). So Marx's "value" cannot be price, if his theory is to hold water.

What is it then? Well, Marx and Smith don't really say. And they definitely don't say how to measure it. So their claims about value and labor time and so on don't amount to much, they don't really amount to testable claims about the real world. They amount to claims about this ill-defined idea of "value" that has relevance only internally within the system of Marxian thought. As such, many of Marx's economic claims don't actually say anything about the economy to begin with.

The upshot is that a lot of Marx's specific claims about the economy are either untestable or simply wrong, which is pretty damning. His theories are far too simplistic to model the economy accurately, and his dialectical method—far from remedying this simplicity—simply introduces more vagueness into his claims.

Marx did not know calculus. With a few lucky exceptions, it is generally difficult-to-impossible to model any real world process of significant complexity with any precision without calculus. Basically every modern day economic model makes use of differential equations. Marx, Smith, and Ricardo did not. A priori, therefore, it would be very surprising if their ideas turned out to be correct. And they don't.

So, I've been pretty hard on Marx. Is there any value to Marx's thought?

Well, I think, yes. Quite a lot, in fact.

Marx's work is sometimes split into an "early Marx", for example as represented in the 1844 Manuscripts, and a "mature Marx", as represented in Capital. People debate the degree to which there is continuity between these two periods, or whether the periodization really makes sense at all. But it's undeniable that Marx's thinking evolved significantly over the years. In particular, Marx's early work is much more concerned with the humanistic effects of living under capitalism. This is where Marx's theory of alienation comes from. He is concerned, everywhere but especially in this early writing, with how it feels to be an industrial worker in a capitalist society. And I think his analysis here is absolutely spot on. It has, in fact, been pretty influential on my own thoughts about markets and private property.

Marx also advanced a materialist conception of history, and of society generally. I think Marx's materialism was too teleological, and too wrapped up in nineteenth century ideas of Progress, but I still think that to a first order approximation his assertion that history is driven by the factors of production was basically correct, and was not remotely obvious at the time. For this I think he should be celebrated.

I think Marx was, in a certain sense, a victim of his time. Almost all the critiques that can be made of his economic theorizing per se are found in the writing of all the classical economists. And it is in this domain where I think he makes the most demonstrable errors. That is to say: most of what is bad in Marx is not that new, and (I think) most of what is new in Marx is quite good.

There's another reason to take Marxism seriously, too. I think that a really significant amount of good thinking about history, society, and the nature of wealth and power has been presented under a "Marxist" heading, or assumes fluency with Marxist ideas. From Marxist humanists like E.P. Thomson to the revolutionary leaders of Third-Worldism. Not that any of these people are above critique, to be sure. But anyway, in this regard I think Marx's thought is a lot like Bertrand Russell's work on logic (I love the Marx/Russell comparison, because they both would have hated it): less important for its actual content than for the work of the people it inspired, and for the century+ of ideas they produced.

#society #navel gazing

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ridox · 2 months

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Questions about Xavier & Theories Following Chapter 8 —

I need anyone’s input/theory/thoughts regarding this matter because I haven’t gone through much of Xavier’s Secret Times and Tender Moments yet, and I’ve only unlocked 3/9 of Shooting Stars

Discussion under the cut for potential spoilers

Anyway, I just finished going through Chapter 8 of the Main Story and based from this conversation with Jeremiah. Does this mean Xavier has direct/or indirect influence over what happened to Josephine and Caleb on Chapter 4?

I’m assuming the Nonintervention Principle is for the Lightseekers who venture through space, calling for them to basically NOT ALTER anything in the timeline they’re hopping onto as a preventative measure to creating a butterfly effect (?)

I remember some people saying that Xavier caused the explosion but now that I think about it I don’t think he inherently has anything to do with it. Rather, I think his presence, Jeremiah’s, alongside all the other backtrackers or whatever you call them, is what caused Josephine and Caleb’s death (?)

I have to gather my thoughts for a more concrete theory about this but in essence, the fact that some of the residents of Philos never returned to their own home and their correct timeline… caused a major butterfly effect that essentially kickstarted the catastrophic events that’s happening in MC’s life as of the moment

I feel like Xavier knew what was going to happen to MC’s grandmother and PERHAPS he even knows if Caleb really died or not but he’s bound by this rule to not intervene and to just let it pan out the way it’s supposed to be

Which kinda creates a loophole because his existence itself in this timeline is what caused it to happen in the first place (?) if that specific theory is right

ANYWAY MOVING ON TO MY ACTUAL QUESTIONS —

I remember reading a theory or perhaps an actual explanation that - in an attempt to try and save Queen MC - Xavier created a Möbius Strip that essentially catapults him back in time creating this unending loophole in the Philos timeline

MY QUESTION IS… IS THERE A POSSIBILITY THAT THE MÖBIUS STRIP IN QUESTION IS WHAT RESULTED IN THE DEEPSPACE TUNNEL? OR THE DEEPSPACE TUNNEL ITSELF IS THE MÖBIUS STRIP?

I haven’t done enough research to support this theory because it’s 12 AM and I just finished the chapter and want to document these thoughts but I’m theorizing that Xavier’s effort to save his MC in his own timeline resulted in a time rift in the form of the Deepspace Tunnel.

The same tunnel that was the main reason why MC’s heart got implanted with the Aether Core in the first place. What if the Wanderers that ravaged Linkon City those many years ago were actually Philos citizens (backtrackers, lightseekers) that died during the creation of the tunnel and emerged on the other side as just that… Wanderers?

What if the Wanderer that stabbed current MC through the heart is an alternate timeline/Philos timeline MC who recognized herself and essentially transplanted her heart to hers?

LIKE MY MIND IS GOING MILES AN HOUR THINKING ABOUT THIS BUT I KNOW EVERYTHING’S MESSY AND UNORGANIZED SO LIKE MAYBE I’LL WRITE THIS UP MORE IN THE FUTURE WITH SUPPORTING FACTS AND STUFF

But yeah! To summarize it all —

- Xavier and the rest of the backtrackers/lightseekers in Linkon City are Space and Time anomalies

- Their existence in itself is wrong and is what resulted in the catastrophic event many years ago

- Possibly the Wanderer that pierced current MC’s heart is her from a Philos timeline

- Also Xavier may have been indirectly involve to the death of MC’s grandmother and Caleb

- BUT ALSO I think Xavier knows whether Caleb is truly dead or alive

- Bonus: I feel like Caleb found out that an alternate timeline exists and he had to fake his own death for the sake of MC’s safety

- Just by the end of Chapter 8, everyone was talking about the recent discovery of Philos and imo I feel like this happened prior to Caleb coming home in the first place

- I feel like since Ever pretty much runs everything in Linkon, they tried to sway Caleb into turning MC in for the sake of “research” or something after they found out she’s probably the only living person who fused well with an Aether Core

ANYWAY SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE I WOULD LIKE TO HERE ANYBODY’S THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS PLS I’M SO NECK DEEP INSIDE L&DS LORE

#downloaded the game for shits and giggles #stayed for the actual lore and storyline #also the combat lol i love arpg #love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #love and deespace xavier #love and deespace caleb #l&ds xavier #l&ds caleb #xavier #caleb #ridox thoughts

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