#I'm not sure about the wonderful human thing but

[cicadabooks]

「冷徹な殺人機械のはずなのに、弊機はひどい欠陥品です」

Heh, that's neat :D

Above is the Japanese edition translation of "As a heartless killing machine, I was a terrible failure."

Other fun notes, from looking at the Japanese listing/preview (on amazon):

-The 上下 set being sold is the first two books, All Systems Red and Artificial Condition. (Books in Japan are often sold as a set of 上 "top" 下 "bottom" and maybe a 中 "middle" if its a three-set. I'm not sure why. It could be for portability of the books.)

-There's a "Characters who appear in the story" glossary thing in the front.

-The furigana on 殺人ボット is saying that you should read this name as "Ma-da-botto", aka the "Murderbot" English pronunciation. (And not "satsujin botto" which you might otherwise read this as, given the characters used.)

-The first time 弊機 shows up in text (pic below), it also gets furigana, so that everyone knows how this made-up first person pronoun kanji is intended to be read. After that example, no more furigana, you're on your own to remember how to read that.

-In the excerpt, Murderbot speaks pretty polite Japanese when talking to Mensah and other humans, which makes sense. (I wonder if the politeness level changes when its being really snarky later.)

-Murderbot also uses decently polite Japanese in its own narration. I guess I was expecting something more casual? Interesting.

I guess the English narration is no-frills but still precise, so we went with this tone? But there is a lot of casual speech in the English narration... Now I'm looking to see if a funky word like "borked" got translated into anything in particular. (Looks standard so far, at least in that passage.)

-The cover has Murderbot drawn in an anime manga style.... and conceptually that's fine with me, I've seen other Japanese prose books do that style of cover... but this covers shows Murderbot's face and I don't like the decisions around pale skinned light hair blue eyes murderbot face.

There is (IMO) a somewhat androgynous thing going on with the face, which is interesting. (Also, IMO, murderbot looks like a shonen character here and I was expecting maybe like a little older?) Fun design of clothes for the cover of Artificial Condition, tho. Also I just noticed the covers extend into each other with that ship in the background. (I mean the covers are fun, I just have chara design qualms.)

Chat, what do we think of these covers

Anyway, I have been spoiled by fan art.... brown skin, South Asian, Black, various illustrations of murderbot, save me... I can't deal with this pale skin light hair illustration and the TV show casting version....

Speaking of which -

-(not about the JP book version) My English kindle version of All Systems Red now has a new cover image. I guess it's the TV show promo image with the white guy actor's face....? No. Gimme back the cool drawn scifi no-face armor Murderbot cover. Don't change up cover images like that. I need to buy a paper copy of the older version, before the only murderbot books I can get have covers of the TV show actor.

Also I recognized Jocelyne Allen's name in the posts above, from translations of manga. (I mentioned her in an earlier post about Nonnonba). She seems neat.

link: https://bsky.app/profile/brainvsbook.bsky.social/post/3llc72lyhu22j

google translate defaulting to chinese at first

okay but for those of us with interests in both the murderbot and the daomu biji fandoms this is kinda hilarious

(english-side-only really, i get that the kanji and hanzi are completely different)

our good (air)ship murderbot! thanks google

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Heartslabyul is canonically (I think) the largest dorm. I've read somewhere that Cater and Trey share a room when I feel like it's mentioned that third years and dorm leaders get their own room. We get to see this in Rook's dream where he's a third year savannaclaw (unless he DOES and I missed it... can you imagine... I don't know what I'd do if I were his roommate 💀).

So since one dorm is notably the most jam-packed, is there one that's notably empty compared to the other dorms? Which do you think it would be? My first though was Diasomnia or Ignihyde, but I'm not sure? I could easily see it being any of the others... Maybe it's Savannaclaw due to Rook's dream / it being based (seemingly) on strength and stuff?

I think it could possibly be (from most to least) Heartslabyul, Scarabia, Octavinelle, Pomefiore, Ignihyde/Savannaclaw/Diasomnia?

I also thought about Scarabia being one of the smaller ones since they all seem kinda amicable? Plus we only have two members from the dorm compared to the rest of the main cast, but I'm not 100% sure that's a good thing to base any assumptions on considering that's more of a "player lore" thing rather than like, an in-universe type thing.

Plus, then the chart would be something like Heartslabyul, Diasomnia, Savannaclaw/Octavinelle/Pomefiore, Ignihyde/Scarabia

The rooming situation(s) at NRC work like this:

First years are four to a room.

Second years are two to a room.

Third years and dorm leaders get their own rooms.

Fourth year students don’t seem to get rooms since they’re all at off-campus internships; they only return to campus for the annual cultural festival and (I assume) graduation. The cultural festival is a few days long though, so I wonder if NRC has the space to house them on top of the first, second and third years, if the fourth years have to arrange their own temporary housing, of if they just head home via mirror gage every night and return the next morning.

All students use a communal washroom; not even the dorm leaders have a private one.

Correction: Cater and Trey roomed together as first and second years. Now that they are both third years, they each have their own rooms.

Rook seems to be a third year in his dream; he appears to have decorated his room half with Vil merch and half with Neige merch.

Rook was still a first and a second year at some point though, so he probably has traumatized some of his peers just by being in the same living quarters as them/j Good luck trying to sleep with the thought that Rook might be watching you rattling around in your brain 💀 Absolutely unnerving…

Heartslabyul is said to have the most students right now (200, I believe) because, thanks to Riddle’s efforts, everyone’s grades are good enough to keep them from failing, dropping out, or being held back. Round of applause for him!! 👏

We don’t have any confirmation as to which dorm has the least amount of students, but I have always assumed it was Diasomnia. Magic is very rare (only 10% of the human population are mages) and strong mages are even rarer. Diasomnia is a dorm characterized by magical all-rounders, which I’d assume would be exceedingly rare since many people—even if they are capable of magic—don’t necessarily also get formal magic training prior to formal schooling for it. Diasomnia is also the only dorm so far that seems to have fae students?? And history seems to imply fae are grossly outnumbered by the other races, especially humans (which are present in the other dorms). Their dorm just always seems so large and empty too… like there’s no one ever walking down those eerie hallways. Maybe they wouldn’t have many dropouts since everyone is already pretty gifted in magic, but I definitely feel like they get fewer students to start with every year.

I think Ignihyde only seems empty artificially because everyone in that dorm is basically a hermit that holes up in their own room and barely touches grass 😭 (including the darn dorm leader). No idea how many students are actually in it relative to the other dorms, but I think they wouldn’t have many dropouts because they seem generally smart and tech-savvy.

Brief aside: Ignihyde and Scarabia having two members apiece seems less like a sampling of its population based on overall dorm size and more like “these are the villains and concepts we wanted to twist”. Ortho shows us that the main cast can expand its student roaster, so I think this opens up the potential for new Scarabia and Ignihyde boys down the line. Again, not an accurate showing or indication that either dorm is lacking in membership.

I never got the sense that Pomefiore was empty either??? There seems to be plenty swarming us in book 5 on our way to meet up with the other SDC/VDC picks. Epel’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes also implies a fancy banquet for the entire dorm. They also have a large ass ballroom for the students to use, which implies a substantial volume of people. Vil also strikes me as someone who would whip his students into shape (similar to Riddle) if they’re not performing at their best.

I think Scarabia’s a decent size as well, since Jamil seems so stressed out by things like having to cook for banquets (albeit this number is inflated because Kalim invites students dorms other dorms too) or to carry the souvenirs Kalim bought for the entire dorm. I’m not sure if amicability can really help us determine a relative amount…? Being generally nice on the surface (we barely get to know Scarabia mobs) doesn’t mean you aren’t also arrogant, prideful, or two-faced beneath that. These are the same mobs who tried to keep us hostage to avoid being punished by (mind-controlled) Kalim, no? Scarabia is also one of the dorms known for their smarts, so I don’t see there being many dropouts, but there definitely could be some under Kalim’s lax leadership. I feel like Jamil would intervene to support those students though, or else this might reflect poorly on the Asims—and he has to make Kalim look good.

Octavinelle I feel is in a similar boat as Scarabia? It seems like Mostro Lounge is mainly staffed by Octavinelle students so they seem to be doing fine in terms of numbers. With them also being a smart dorm, I don’t think Octavinelle would have many dropouts. Even if there were some in danger of failing, Azul would do something to fix it because having students struggling is a Bad Look for him, the business owner and leader.

Lastly, there’s Savanaclaw! I don’t know if Rook’s dream is an accurate reflection of reality? It’s true that he remembers things with a frightening amount of detail, but it’s possible that the game assets are limited in showing us how populated Savanaclaw is in Rook’s mind since the story already has to balance so many main cast characters at once. Guesstimating the dorm’s capacity based on physical attributes doesn’t seem accurate either? Physical education is a credit requirement for all mages and good health + exercise is encouraged to help them spellcast and maintain normal levels of blot. Just because Savanaclaw has many athletes doesn’t mean they’re short on students. I do see them maybe having some students dropping out due to grades (since they’re not an academically aligned dorm), but surely it can’t be that huge of a number if Leona’s tutoring could help Ruggie (who didn’t seem to have an education prior to meeting Leona) get passable grades.

[nightscythe]

You've mentioned that drukhari/aeldari are your personal interest. Do you have any fun headcanons about you'd like to share or thoughts about a potential relationship with a baseline human? 👀👀👀

I love the regular big boys but the space elves just tickle a different part of my brain and there's a severe lack of content for them in the wh40k tumblr fandom 😩😩

to be fair, there's a lack of content from gw for them as well... not through lack of their writers trying, i'm sure. i hope.

aeldari

falling for you

they don’t want to be interested in you, but they can’t help it. everything you do becomes something they yearn for. you throw away a notebook? they’ve kept it. studied it; taken everything they can from it because they think its their only way to know the real you. human emotion becomes a hook for them, though they’d never ask you for it. it’s almost a personal challenge, how they can make you laugh, see you smile, burn with confidence that they’d not expected. but if you’re sad or they see you cry? they’d be prepared to move heaven and earth for you. but, they’re fearful of what having such feelings for you, a human, might do for them. this fear will make them come across as them being utterly condescending, because how could someone like you become important to them without a reason? their inner thoughts and anxieties that are very very rarely shared will be a reoccurring problem. when they’re past that, they’re all yours. “in another lifetime, this would have been easy. unfortunately, fate has not been written that way.”

light moments

they’d never let you be in a situation where harm would come to you. they’d chastise themselves over a bruise you got, even if it was accidental or unavoidable. their protection is because they simply couldn’t live without you. and that can go even further. they are terrified of a life without you, and they’re ashamed to even admit it. every part of you is sacred to them. they’d learn each curve of your body, each scar, freckle, mark, line, etc. they’d know the causes, the stories, trace every scar like scripture and worship you until the end of time, wondering why they’d been cursed to have a kindred spirit with such fragile mortality. sharing parts of their life is important to them too. they shouldn’t share so much with you, but they want to. their patronising demeanours would begin to fade overtime. they’d be irritated you couldn’t speak their tongue perfectly but even if it frustrates them, they’d quietly find it adorable. if ever you reached for them, in your sleep or if you were worried, it would shatter them. they’d be stunned to silence as they begin to contemplate just how much you mean t them. you’re their salvation. but your life is so short. too short. “you’re the only thing in this galaxy that feels real to me.”

dark moments

they’d never understand what they feel. sometimes they’re cold, clinical. feeling doesn’t sink through with what they are doing and you may find yourself questioning how much you mean to them. you know they care, but how much they care could be debated – they’re partially afraid to show it (because that makes it real) and partially forget that the trivial nature of love is important to you. if you hurt them, even unintentionally, that feeling is doubled. tripled. every part of them they worked to build past comes right back to them. but they never allow themselves to hurt you in return. they don’t think that’s fair. they could be so cruel, but they never allow themselves to be with you – and maybe that makes it worse sometimes. but no matter what, they’d come back to you, always seek you out, wanting you right back with them no matter what the cost. they may seem a bit controlling. they think they know what’s best for you and only want to help, its never meant to be more than that. most definitely argumentative to the highest degree and always think they are right, arguing a case even when they realise they might be wrong. that can be infuriating. “this has never been easy for me. think clearly, and you’ll see things how i see them.”

intimate moments

did you ever know an eldar could be so shy? they worry they won’t be enough for you, ironically, concerned that they'd not be able to fulfil your needs (though outwardly, they'll be a little arrogant and despondent about it). they'll never beg, but they will act like they did. they'll worship you again, they'll use their mouth for hours before moving on. the way you writhe beneath them has their body shuddering. typically submissive, so eager to please and do well, but they can hold the leash of dominance if required (and of course, there is the occasional outlier - but even then they're at the behest of your pleasure). hours mean nothing to them, they’d go for days if you were able to, just to prove their feelings to you. anything intimate is a ritual for them, really. “you rival even the stars. won’t you let me have one more taste?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

drukhari

falling for you

you’re a challenge they feel like they need to beat but accidentally start to catch feelings for you – then channel that energy straight into everything but love (but they do love you, its just… not that easy for them). at first they just mock you and everything you live by. it’s a defence for them, a way for them to hide from anything buried beneath. so fragile compared to them, such a small little soul that they should have just killed when they got the chance. but they didn’t; instead they’re sitting on a wall watching, completely fascinated. they’re intrigued by your softness and your warmth. the first time you try to hug them they are frozen in place. they ask for more on the pretence of conductive research. they like the way their fingertips sink into your flesh. and a kiss? its like a fatal wound. this is almost a slow burn romance with them as they realise you mean more to them than anything, anyone else. “don’t confuse my clemency for anything other than my need to see you breathe.”

light moments

you mean everything to them. they watch you sleep. watch you eat. watch you fumble around with clothes every time you get dressed and prance around without their grace. they’d find things that reminded you of them, another more human pleasure they’d picked up on, but it’s always something that has a piece of them in it too. like your name carved into a bone that reminded them of your own. or a blade custom made for your liking. they’ll never admit its so they can see you smile. they start to listen to you, unwisely most of the time. if you said stop, they would hesitate. no one else’s words would even reach them. however, they also think that they can impress you by demonstrating their excellence in murder. eventually they’ll settle for impressing you with other things they can do with their hands. your pleasures accidentally become their comforts. they didn’t understand why the softness of a pillow mattered at first. thought how you made your tea was over the top. but now they crave it because it reminds them of you – a connection to something they’ve never had before. they’d protect you from the entire galaxy if they needed to – you’re the only thing they don’t want to destroy after all. love doesn’t really exist, not to them. but you give them a feeling that they can run off for years, and they never ever want to let it go. you taught them how to feel. that’s more than they can ask from anyone. “such a little thing, i sometimes find myself wondering how we even ended up in the same world.”

dark moments

possessiveness incarnate. if anyone so much as looks at you they are planning their death. don’t ask and they won’t tell, but really, they’d love to say how many necks they’ve cut just for your smile and may make slight references to it. it may take a while for them to realise you don’t want them to kill anyone for you, even as proof of their affection. they may seem like they don’t care. pain isn’t the same for you and them. they can argue with you, they can make you feel so small and remind you that they could have killed you a thousand times over but they don’t. so how do they not care? they’d struggle to change their mind, expecting you to just realise. they’ll always seek you out though. the regret would silently ruin them, so they’d never leave a moment to simmer bitterly between you, never want to spend a night away from you with the beginnings of regret bordering on their minds. they’d rather you hate them than leave them. so they sometimes push things to the extreme. they shouldn't, but they do. especially when learning that your fear isn’t as enjoyable as your love. “even death won’t provide you an escape from me. fortunately.”

intimate moments

the switchiest of any xenos, obviously. they can be your pet, they can be your owner. both, if you want. they want you to stroke their hair and choke them, and they’ll do the same right back. anything you want, of course. because its your sounds and your taste that feeds them at the end of the day. teasing is a love language, in as many ways as you can think. words, touching, biting; they have a billion and one ways to make you frustrated and overwhelmed at the same time. hearing you say thank you is a blessing. could be for one of those gifts, could be because they let you climax, could be because they chose to not end your life. but don’t worry, their love means you’re always rewarded. prepare for overstimulation, begging, ties and being watched - they're happy to watch you go solo too. don't worry, they'll take good care of you afterwards. sex to them may be meaningless, but with you its different. prepare to beg, a thousand times over. “did i say that you could stop begging, pet? back on your knees.”

this is your sign to request eldar content from me. i even have eldar ocs. tell me what you want, i'll provide.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Did someone say SPIDERS? (funny short snippet)

Aaaaand it's officially my birthday today! Yay? (not sure how to feel about that bc I don't really have any irl friends to hang with so there's no party and not a lot of presents but oh well - at least I get to write instead with all my imaginary characters!)

Today I decided to post some fun scenes for my followers to enjoy - and this one features Shadow, the morally-gray antihero we all know and love, along with Thomas & one big spider. Shadow is such a badass here who makes a serious power move. She's such a mood.

Warnings: a metaphorical spider was harmed for the making of this snippet 😭

"ACK!" Thomas let out a startled yelp, dropping the books he'd been holding to leap away from the wall on his left.

Tanner was instantly on high alert, already walking in his direction to determine the cause of his sudden panic and determine if there was an active threat.

"What is it? Are you okay?"

"HUUUUUGE SPIDER!" Thomas squeaked, pointing a terrified finger at the wall. Because there, right at eye level, was a massive spider as big as a human hand. "Can you please kill it?!"

"Me? Why me? You kill it!" Tanner retorted. "I don't do spiders. Nope."

"Nonono I'm not getting anywhere near that thing. Nuh-uh." Thomas shook his head vehemently.

"Should we flip a coin?" Tanner suggested, pulling a penny from his pocket. "Heads and I deal with the spider, tails and it's your job?"

"That's a terrible idea!" Thomas barked, throwing his hands up. "I'm allergic to certain spider bites! I could die if it bites me!"

Tanner raised a skeptical eyebrow. But before he could respond something came whizzing out of nowhere, whistling past Thomas's head alarmingly close and thunking into the wall beyond him.

Thomas jerked back with a gasp, looking wide-eyed to where a throwing knife had obliterated the spider, pinning it to the wall.

He whirled around to find Shadow standing on the other side of the room, who shrugged casually.

"There. Problem solved," she said simply. "You're welcome. You both are idiots. What a wuss. It's literally a spider. A spider, and you’re acting like the world's ending. It's a wonder natural selection hasn't taken you out yet." Her white wings flared and folded neatly behind her back, and she walked off without another word, leaving Tanner and Thomas gaping after her.

"So, uh, who's going to deal with the dead spider?" Thomas whispered.

“Coin flip?”

“Coin flip.”

Masterlist

I'm cackling so hard re-reading this -- Shadow is definitely my favorite character of all time.

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson @whatwhump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@writing-with-olive

@silly-scroimblo-skrunkl (tagging you in this one because I think you'd get a good laugh out of it?)

[our-queer-experience]

Okay this might be kind of long but i need to know if anyone else has experienced something similar. uhh Content warning for internalized transphobia/homophobia I guess

So basically I'm transmasc nonbinary and for the longest time I've thought of myself as a lesbian, and I've always been very uncomfortable with the idea of being with a guy, even before I knew I was queer at all. And like, I definitely am at least predominantly attracted to women, i don't usually find men attractive at all.

But recently I've started to really like this guy in a way that's pretty confusing since I already have a hard time distinguishing between romantic and platonic attraction. But also sometimes when I think about it too much it just feels so wrong and makes me uncomfortable.

I've struggled a lot with gender dysphoria and self acceptance related to being trans and I'm not sure if the discomfort is picturing myself with a cis guy makes me feel like id be the de-facto girl of the relationship (I realize what a weird thought that is but it has been also been a feeling I've experienced a lot in the past, note the aforementioned self acceptance issues.) Or if I'm feeling insecure about my masculinity in some way. He's bi and very accepting of my gender so it's not like he would only see me as a girl or anything but it still just feels wrong and icky somehow

Also it reminds me a bit of stories of people in denial about their sexuality like I've literally had the thought many times of if he was a girl I would totally want to date him no hesitation. so idk.

But it could also be that I'm just not actually attracted to him? Cause i love my friends very intensely and it could be that thinking about being romantically involved with him makes me uncomfortable because I'm not actually attracted to him, and i actually just really love him platonically? And also I'm usually only attracted to women so the fact that the only exception to that is someone I already really care about as a friend seems kind of suspicious?

Labels aren't really my concern here idgaf about what my sexuality is called I just feel like its so messy that I cant actually tell if i actually like him or not. because if i do actually want to like ask him out or something and then realize I'm not actually attracted to him that would be a fucking nightmare, especially since i really care about our friendship already.

TLDR: I cant tell if im not attracted to men or the thought of being with one just makes me feel really insecure about my gender. Has anyone else felt like being trans and dysphoria made understanding their sexuality and attraction really confusing???

i completely get this! im bisexual and have always been confident in my attraction to guys (minus maybe 2 weeks as a preteen when i wondered about lesbianism) but for me it comes with the sense that ill probably end up settling down with a woman because that is the way to Be A Man, and i cant be The Man when around another guy. masculinity is so competitive and while im aware of it, that makes it not easier to defeat, but easier to not be toxic and project it onto other people.

i think its the kind of thing that gets better with time and confidence. nothing you can rush. as for with your friend…. giving it time and thinking on it cant hurt. human relationships are really hard. knowing how you feel is really hard. i cant tell you what will fix your situation, but i can tell you that youre not alone.

[labyrinthinesyndicatex]

Elisa didn't expect for Nox to tell her about the wooden box. Such an unexpectedly human detail from someone who usually kept everything locked away. A child collecting bits and pieces of his life ... like building a personal museum of moments. Her wine provided the perfect shield while she processed this glimpse behind his walls. His collection reminded her of the way kids treasure random things - a pretty rock, a movie ticket stub, those little pieces of life adults usually toss away without thinking. Nine years old. She pictured a small boy carefully storing away proof that he existed. That image tugged at something inside her she'd rather ignore. But then he dropped that other truth bomb. Every single day. The wine suddenly felt dangerous on her tongue. She wanted to dismiss it as another smooth line, except his voice had carried that raw edge she recognized from when he actually meant something. That made it worse somehow. Safer when she could pretend it was all just practiced charm. "I'm not sure what to say to that." The admission without a second thought.

"Receipts and pebbles," she said, testing the words while her thoughts spun. "Proof of existence." God, why did that resonate so much? "Did you keep anything from here? From before?" The question slipped out before her better judgment could stop it. She didn't want to care about his answer. Caring led to complications she couldn't afford. "Every day seems like an exaggeration," she added softly, not accusatory but questioning. "That's a lot of days to carry someone around in your thoughts." Her fingers traced invisible patterns on the tablecloth, keeping her hands busy. "Though I suppose we all have our souvenirs. Some physical. Some not." The wine was definitely loosening her tongue too much. Making her wonder about things she shouldn't. Like what else that wooden box might contain. What other pieces of himself he'd collected over the years. "What's the most ordinary thing you've kept?" The words tumbled out before she could catch them. "The one that would seem completely worthless to anyone else?" Just for tonight, she let herself be curious about the boy who needed proof he existed.

Her hesitation made his throat go dry. Did she want another drink or not? He kept his eyes on her hands rather than her face. Easier that way. When she said she probably shouldn't stay, something in him deflated. Of course she wouldn't. She had proper responsibilities, unlike him. But then she said "but" and his pulse quickened again. Stupid how much he cared about one bloody syllable. When she agreed to one more drink, mentioning the sitter wasn't expecting her until eleven, he felt ridiculously victorious. Like he'd won something precious. "Another round it is, then," he said, signaling the waitress. Her clarification that it "doesn't mean anything" stung more than it should have. God, he was pathetic. One drink and he was already spinning fantasies about what it could lead to. About her inviting him home. About waking up to her tomorrow. "Course not," he replied, trying to sound casual while his brain screamed otherwise. "Just a drink between old friends." Friends. What a joke. He'd never had friends. Never wanted them until her.

Her request for something real made his stomach clench. She wanted truth. Something personal that wasn't tied to his work. But what was he without that? What parts of him existed outside the job, outside the person he'd crafted himself to be? "Something true," he repeated, stalling. The waitress delivered the wine, and he took a long sip, buying himself seconds to think. Something she wouldn't know. Something real. "I collect souvenirs from every place I stay," he said finally. "Not expensive things. Just… ordinary bits. Bus tickets. Coffee shop receipts. A pebble from a beach. Keep them all in this ridiculous wooden box I made when I was a kid." God, why was he telling her this? It sounded infantile. "Started when I was nine. My way of proving I existed somewhere, I suppose." He looked at her now, at the way her fingers wrapped around her glass, and felt a desperate need to touch them. "And I've thought about you every day since I left Chicago. Not just occasionally. Every single day." He took another sip, avoiding her eyes. "That true enough for you?"

[sysig]

He was a human pirate, which you wouldn’t think you’d have to specify and yet (Patreon)

[smile-files]

(insane person voice) this teardrop gjinka. THIS teardrop gjinka. yes this one will be the good one

[winepresswrath]

drusilla's canon grandma kink is a thing that can be so charming & unhinged.

[fragmentedblade]

Insane that Blade during Todd's quest did basically the same thing Dan Heng was doing during this last video

[baxtervalentine]

maybe the original tumblrinas were onto something with nightblogging. I can post about the silly things I'm thinking and most people won't see it. on that note I wish I could ask my cat what she thinks about me wearing clothes, and I am also overcome with a great happiness thinking about food and how much I love it

[earlgreytea68]

Okay. It's time for an AI rant.

My nephew is 13 years old. Whenever he writes a paper for school, I check it over and fix all of his mistakes for him. He said to me, "Maybe I'll proofread your paper for you in exchange," meaning one of the scholarly articles I write for work. I said, "Cool," and gave him the file. And he said, "Well, this is full of errors! See, you always say you have a lot to correct on my stuff, and look at all the stuff you got wrong!" And I said, surprised, "What? Where?" Because I'm sure there are typos in the draft I sent him, but not, like, that many.

And then he pointed to the screen and said, "Look at all the blue and red lines you have."

And I said, "Yeah, but those are wrong. Like, those are blue and red lines I'm ignoring because the computer is wrong." And then I paused and added, "You know you can't proofread a paper by just looking at the red and blue lines, right?" And he gave me the blankest look, because that clearly is EXACTLY what he thinks. And it became even clearer suddenly why, whenever I correct something on his paper, his immediate reaction is, "It didn't have a blue or red line."

There's a very good reason for that: THAT'S BECAUSE THE COMPUTER ISN'T SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT IT WAS WRONG.

I am so tired of being sold the idea that computers are better than humans and so we should just outsource everything to them, which is clearly the lesson my nephew is absorbing in U.S. middle school. COMPUTERS ARE NOT BETTER THAN HUMANS. Like, maybe they are better at humans at crawling through rubble to find people trapped inside. They are also better at preserving things in a searchable format. Things like that. Very limited circumstances.

I don't want to sound alarmist but everything I hear about people using generative AI freaks me out. It's not just that I'm freaked out by people being like, "I use it to write novels!" (Although I don't see how they do, I have tried to have it write fiction for me and the output was truly terrible.) But I recognize my bias around creative writing and so no one needs to credit my views on artificial writing. But! Other things are alarming, too! "I use it to brainstorm x, y, or z." But...why? Why not just...use your own brain...to...brain...storm? The computer doesn't even have a brain to brainstorm with! And you might be like, "But it comes up with things that my brain would never think of!" So would other people! You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you (not AI). Please don't belittle the wonder of thinking.

I just feel like the marketing around generative AI boils down to "Wouldn't it be easier not to use your own brain to think about things?" Everyone. No. It would not be. Please just trust me on this. I'm not just an old person who is out of touch with technology or something. I promise. USE YOUR BRAINS. IT WILL BE OKAY.

[sysig]

Warm and cozy (Patreon)

[ozzgin]

Just read your arranged marriage kidnapped by a most post and the humor in the servants always thinking reader is in peril. The same going for monster hubby (He just thinks they're submissive and breedable)

Like none of them realize they are a moster fucker cause they hide it so well. Like just imagining reader be like "oh be gentle with me I'm a dainty maiden" and then giving him the night of his life is hilarious. Or them having dinner and the servants feel bad for them cause monster hubby is eating human meat but their just thinking about other things he can use his tongue on.

Or maybe someone comes to rescue them from the terrible monster finally. But they don't wanna leave and instead fight the knight off. The knight thinks they've been brainwashed or something. Meanwhile the servants think the knight just wasn't good enough to rescue them.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW! [Part 1] | [More Monsters]

The servants are not blind by any means: they can tell, quite plainly, that their monstrous Lord has a soft spot for you. Not only that, but the beast nearly worships you! They've come up with many theories, the latest one involving witchcraft. Surely you must have some sort of magical trickery under your sleeve in order to subdue their Master. There's no other way around it. All previous humans have been devoured, or have died in a pitiful attempt to escape, terrified to the bone upon gazing at his blasphemous Majesty.

You can't blame them. It's probably better for everyone involved if you omit the fact that your source of witchcraft lies in your...genitals. Well, not just that, of course. Your husband had started to lose hope. His appreciation of humans never came to fruition before your arrival. He was expecting you to cower in fear, not throw yourself at him.

He wondered if you wanted something from him in return, but no one could possibly pretend so flawlessly: the way you clung to him unprompted. The way you hungrily took him in, tears welling in your eyes, refusing to let go until you could feel his load avalanching down your throat. The way you'd trap his hips with your legs, despite being weak and feverish, asking that he doesn't stop yet. If that wasn't proof enough, your whines and moans were loud and clear. To think he could have his own little human, one who isn't repulsed by his monstrous form. He would've been content with mere tolerance, yet someone who begged to be fucked by him? He's been delirious ever since.

He loves everything about you, naturally, but he can't deny the shameless addiction he's now developed towards your body. He'd pound you anywhere and anytime if he could. If he needs to leave for official matters, know that the return will burn in the back of his mind.

"An important date, Sir?" one traveling servant will ask, glancing at all the scribbles in the calendar.

"Indeed", he answers solemnly. It's the times when he can finally fuck you dumb.

While the servants worry about their devilish Master being put under leash, for the other fellow humans the opposite seems to be true. You recall your last "rescuing" attempt distinctly. During one of your evening walks, burly, foreign arms swept you off in an instant. Before you knew it, you were holding onto the armored shoulders of an unknown man, as he made his way out of the traditional garden.

"I'll get you out of here", he promised between heaving breaths.

You stared in confusion. What was he saving you from? A good dicking? No matter how much you explained that you do actually like your newly appointed husband, the hero wouldn't budge.

You ended up just walking back home when the man fell asleep.

"That was quite the long walk", your monster partner remarked, polishing his weapons.

"Oh no, I was kidnapped", you state casually. "Got us some fruits on the way back."

Would it have been better to lie about it? On one hand, you do feel terrible for whoever attempted to retrieve you from the claws of the tyrant. Your husband is very possessive, and you know he'll scorch the Earth until that treacherous pest is gutted and fed to the pigs.

On the other hand...he becomes particularly savage after such incidents. You won't be able to sit properly for the next few weeks, but it's worth it.

Tough luck, you tell yourself, lounging in bed with a satisfied smirk and torn apart hole.

[veganagenda]

fascinating new argument has entered the animal rights field: "it's okay to breed animals for a specific human-related purpose over a long period of time and then continue exploit their bodies for that purpose even when they are no longer obligated to because they enjoy fulfilling that purpose. because we bred them to enjoy it"

Not to sound like I was raised by protestants, but I think those kids who argue that it's animal abuse to put working dog breeds to work doing the tasks they were bred and born for have simply genuinely never encountered the concept that they, too, could be genuinely happier if they could do work they found wortwhile and enjoyable. Like engaging in useful and constructive activities might genuinely make life better than a life of doing absolutely nothing because nobody's making you do anything.

[mariasont]

Early seasons Spencer’s gf joining the team and quickly realizing just how used to Spencer she is bc the rest of the team’s reactions to him are so different from hers

Cinnamon Sticks - S.R

a/n: obsessed with the idea of baby spencie having a gf who just gets him while he's still an awkward, nerdy little genius! thanks for requesting bestie so sorry it took so long i am the worst LOL

masterlist

pairings: early!seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, secret relationship, relationship being exposed bc these two are just so in love

wc: 1.7k

Garcia burst into the bullpen like some sort of whirlwind that was painted in neon, her scarf fluttering behind her almost like a cape. She juggled a precariously full cup of coffee, while her phone teetered between ear and shoulder as if testing the limits of human dexterity.

"I swear to all that is holy, if my life doesn't slow down in the next five minutes--"

The sentence derailed as she misjudged her pace, the coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the cup. She stopped abruptly, her arms a flurry of motion, but not quick enough to stop the scalding liquid from spilling over and searing her fingers.

"Oh, fantastic! Just what I needed!" she huffed, waving her hand like it might stop the sting.

She threw herself into the closest chair with a huff, slumping back and fixing the coffee cup with a murderous glare, like this was just another tally in a long line of grievances.

Your eyes darted up from your work, only for a moment, enough to confirm what you already knew. You hadn't been working here long, but it was long enough to recognize the phenomenon that was Garcia: a blur of motion and words, mid-rant before anyone had the chance to catch up. It was like clockwork really.

You risked a glance across the desk at Spencer, who was so absorbed in his notebook it was a wonder he even remembered to breathe. If Garcia's antics registered as white noise to anyone, it was him. But then, almost like he had a radar for being watched, he looked up, catching your gaze.

His eyebrows lifted into a subtle what can you do? expression, and you couldn't help but smile back.

That was the thing about Spencer. He had this uncanny knack for knowing exactly what you were thinking, almost as if he had a cheat sheet for your brain. And maybe he did--like his brain worked three times faster than everyone else's in the room (which, let's face it, it definitely did). But instead of that being intimidating, it was oddly reassuring.

"At this rate, I'm one bad email away from alphabetizing my entire pantry for stress relief."

Spencer's notebook hit the desk, and there it was--the shift. His shoulders drew back, face lighting up--the kind of thing that signaled his mini-lecture was incoming.

"Organizing your pantry is actually a practical stress management technique. By categorizing items, you create a structured environment that reduces decision fatigue. Its why people feel calmer in tidy spaces, it's psychological."

Morgan held up a hand. "Psychological, huh? Sounds like you’re just trying to justify your weird love affair with labels, pretty boy.”

“Don’t forget,” you added absently, flipping a page in your report, “it also saves time when you’re cooking. I think you called it practical efficiency."

The words slipped out without much thought, but as soon as they did, the bullpen stilled. You glanced up, heart sinking as you saw every face turned in your direction.

Morgan’s grin was the first thing you notice--wide and knowing, stretching across his face. He tilted his head, eyes bouncing between you and Spencer like he was putting pieces together in real time.

“Wait a minute,” he said, sitting forward with a gleam in his eye. “Did you just quote him? Like, word for word?”

Your cheeks heated instantly. “What? No. I mean—maybe. I don’t know.”

“Pretty sure you did,” Morgan shot back, smirking. “Man, what else has he been teaching you? You got the periodic table memorized too?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, please. If you’ve been around Spencer long enough, you’re bound to pick up a few things. He’s like a walking encyclopedia.”

“Well,” Spencer said, his head tilting slightly as he spoke, “your cinnamon sticks always end up at the back of your pantry. That’s why I figured you might appreciate the idea of organizing by use frequency. Like I said, practical efficiency.”

The moment the words left his mouth, you knew he’d made a tactical error.

Garcia gasped, her eyes lighting up like she’d just been handed the juiciest piece of gossip of her life. 

“Oh. My. God. Spencer Reid, how exactly do you know what the back of her pantry looks like?”

You froze, rooted to the spot as the realization hit you like a cartoon anvil. This was bad.

Spencer’s expression mirrored yours for half a second—wide-eyed panic—but he quickly scrambled for an answer. 

“It’s, um… a logical assumption,” he stammered, his fingers toying with the pen in his hand, a nervous tell he couldn’t quite suppress. “Spices like cinnamon sticks always seem to migrate to the back of the pantry unless there’s an intentional system in place.”

Morgan let out a long, low whistle, rocking back in his chair with enough force to make it creak. His grin was insufferably smug, the kind that practically begged for something to be thrown at him. 

“Nice save. But I don’t think Garcia’s buying it.”

Garcia tapped her chin, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “Oh, no, no, no. This is too good. I mean, logical assumption my fabulous behind! Cinnamon sticks in the back of her pantry? Really? What’s next? A detailed analysis of how she stacks her cereal boxes?”

You laughed, though it sounded more like a bark than anything natural. “You’re all reading way too much into this. Spencer just knows weirdly specific things about, well, everything. That’s kind of his thing, remember?”

“Mmhmm,” Garcia hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Alright, genius, I’ll let it slide this time. But I’m watching you.”

“Please don’t,” Spencer muttered under his breath, earning a round of laughter from the team.

Garcia spent a solid ten minutes in full interrogation mode after that, her eyes narrowing with each and every pointed question she lobbed your way. Morgan, of course, was no help. He leaned back, grinning like a kid with a front-row seat to the circus, his smirk practically screaming that he knew they were this close to striking a nerve.

Spencer and you had been so careful. You'd been dating long before you joined the BAU, but the moment Hotch had called to offer you the position, you both knew you'd have to keep things under wraps. Dating a coworker was one thing; dating Spencer Reid, a genius with an accidentally too-honest mouth, was an entirely different challenge.

You hadn't expected it to be this hard, though. Keeping the secret wasn't the worst part--it was pretending he wasn't the center of your universe every time you walked into the room. It was keeping your hands to yourself when all you wanted to do was smooth out the messy strands of hair that always fell into his eyes. It was biting your tongue when someone interrupted his long-winded tangents because the truth was, you loved hearing him talk.

The hours stretched on, and the bullpen slowly thinned out. Garcia was the first to leave, blowing a kiss to the room. Morgan left soon after, pausing to flash you one last grin before disappearing. Even Prentiss packed up for the night, muttering something about needed an extra shot of espresso tomorrow morning.

"You handled that well."

You looked up from your report to find Spencer by your desk, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other skimming lightly along the edge of the divider. His expression was surprisingly soft, almost bashful, as though he had been waiting to get you alone.

"Handled that well?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You were the one who almost blew it, Spencer. Cinnamon sticks? Really?"

He smiled, lips twitching upward as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Okay, I'll admit that wasn't my most subtle moment. But in my defense, they do end up at the back of most pantries."

You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as you leaned back in your chair. 

"We're lucky Garcia got distracted. If she'd pushed any harder..." Your voice drifted into a soft sigh. "That could've been bad."

"That was a close one."

The quiet that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt a little more substantial, if that was the word, filled with that soft ache that always bloomed in your chest when he was near. 

Spencer stepped closer, his hand brushing against the edge of your desk. His body angled toward you, like even when you weren’t touching, he couldn’t help but gravitate toward you.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t think she actually suspects anything. But we should probably be more careful.”

"Probably," you replied, drawing out the word in a teasing, sing-song tone. “Unless you’d rather keep showing off how ridiculously well you know me.”

His cheeks flushed a soft pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, that shy, boyish smile—the one that always made you a little breathless—spread across his lips.

"That's going to be hard," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I noticed a lot about you."

The words hit you like they always did--soft enough, but with the force of a thousand butterflies taking flight in your chest. You could feel the flush creeping up to your neck, and you mentally cursed him for how easily he was able to do this to you.

"You're lucky I like you."

His smile widened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in that way they only came out at specific moments. Like when he successfully performed a card trick for the team or when he stumbled across an original copy of a book at a library sale. 

The same one you'd seen when he talked about his mom on her good days, or when you asked him on a date. 

You leaned forward. "And since I like you, any chance you'd want to kiss me right now?"

"How could I not, with you looking at me like that?"

The angle was clumsy--your chair too low, his frame leaning awkwardly over--but all of that melted away the second his hands found your face. His thumbs brushed soft circles against the place where your cheek met your jaw.

His lips were soft against yours at first, testing, before growing firmer, more sure. The kind of confidence that came with a hundred familiar kisses before. 

Time seemed to slow, or at least for you it did, the rest of the world nonexistent.

The sound of a throat clearing broke the spell, and you jerked back from Spencer, your chair wobbling slightly as you turned toward the sound. You immediately regretted it--your lips felt swollen, your face hot, and there was Prentiss, leaning against the doorframe.

"We were... uh, testing something," you blurted, avidly avoiding eye contact. "You know, like... oxygen exchange! For scientific purposes."

Spencer blinked, then mumbled, "Oxygen exchange? That's the best you got?"

"Shut it," you hissed through gritted teeth, not daring to look at him.

Prentiss arched a brow. "Relax, lovebirds. If this is your idea of scientific research, I'll make sure Garcia doesn't find out. You're welcome."

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