#it's a small thing but it is also the question of how we build an accessible world

[sabrondabrainrot]

It's tinfoil hat times I have more observations for eagle eyes listeners (yes a Nightvale ref)

This will contain spoilers for recent TSAMS and LAES!

I gotta go to bed so I won't be able to contain everything but just some stuff I noticed recently and something I've been thinking about.

I won't be as organized as usual, warning spoilers below!

Picking apart what Dark Sun said and did...he used the word expunge. I don't know if this is problem of VA's picking a word that sounds cool...or they picked it know what it means? Expunge is a word that means 'to remove', 'delete', 'strike from the record'. So...why would he collect data on Sun's choice to kill Nexus and expunge that across the multiverse? Why would deleting that make Suns turn on Moons? I'm too tired to think about it past this but...it's interesting. What if D!Sun did delete something?

The biggest thing between Sun and choosing to kill...its his love and trust...but I wonder how Sun's decision to choose the greater good and his family would delete something? That sparkle nighttime Sun was beating his Moon while crying that he hated him...but did he actually? How can we know? I can't wait to find out more about the entire Sun on Moon violence. D!Sun said it was his hate for Nexus but that's not the case...because Sun himself stated he still can't get himself to hate Nexus. We also know, the only reason Sun's magic worked was because of what Ruin did...so I think my theory about the NSP and SP interacting to possibly make Nexus into a new being still stands. D!Sun knew Ruin planted that device when he made Sun choose.

I feel like history just keeps repeating itself where Sun's choices will never be choices and his decision will always be made for him. Moving into more stuff! The recent episodes omigod!!! Moon! He finally stepped up! I still have many things to point out though. I was talking in @goodolddumbbanana dms because like...we're both still disappointed by the episodes...(I won't type the entire dms cause like I want banana to do their piece too without me speaking over them)

When Moon talked to Sun at the pier, he still managed to make it about himself. Did anyone else notice that? He turned it into his normal "I hate myself" routine. He proceeded to let Sun know he's the best brother ever...but Sun just...I don't think he believes it. Even if Lunar and Earth also both tell him that. Even Solar. He just won't believe it.

Looking at how Sun's entire...existence has gone, it's pretty understandable why he'd think and feel this way.

He hasn't been shown by his family (except Earth) he's the best so why would he believe it? Especially coming from Moon who's done nothing but lie to him and break promises. Moon stepped up but...was acting annoyed to take care of Sun. He just was acting like he was ready to get stuff over with. Then...When Sun finally asked the million dollar question. "Did you hate me? Do you hate me?" He's always been asking that and never got a straight answer. Moon has always acted like he really did hate him in the past. Worst of all? Moon told Sun he did.

He told his emotionally beaten brother who's soul is shattered, that 'Yes Sun, I did hate you'...Moon...being honest in this particular situation...I don't think it's the best idea.

Moon, to an emotionally unstable - highly fragile - Sun, basically confirmed Sun's darkest fear. The soul deep ache Sun feels. It's not...gratifying...Sun may now have closure that 'wow he treated me like that because he did hate me' but the big issues with this? Moon has not really changed how he treats Sun. He stopped physically hurting him but he still hurts him. In small ways. We saw that first hand in the last few eps. He left to avoid Sun entirely. He broke promise after promise. He'd rather throw himself a pity party then buck up and just be there for Sun.

Sun always leads with the best intentions. He tells Moon he loves him. He encourages him. He builds him up. (I think i've said this before lol)

Then we get the MVP Earth ep. That episode was honest to God beautiful. Earth is an amazing sister and Kat knocked it out of the ball park with her vocal performance today. She put in so much emotion. I like how Earth's breaking point wasn't her taking care of Dazzle or Sun. Her breaking point was how her family was treating her and Sun like shit. They both left them to their own devices. It was so sad. I was wondering when they kept showing Solar who was taking care of Sun and honestly it makes so much sense it was Earth.

Then in the same episode she said Lunar is acting strange. I'm going to be honest, I know exactly why Lunar is acting mad at Earth.

I don't get a ton of opportunity to talk about Lunar. In the recent episodes his sorest spot was prodded by Taurus. Taurus is basically telling him to get over himself.

Which...I don't agree with how Gemini and Taurus are going about it. Letting go of your hate and hurt is so important but them just telling Lunar to do it isn't going to work. He needs to be taught how to.

So why is Lunar mad at Earth? Never forget, Lunar hasn't developed much he's still a very selfish immature person. He's mad at Earth he's stagnating. He's blaming her for his stunted emotional growth. He chose to numb himself to deal with his emotions and if he admits that was wrong then it'd be a long time of wasted efforts. He would have so many regrets if he admits he's been doing everything wrong.

After all, If Lunar wasn't so apathetic about N!Moon would he have made a difference in him becoming Nexus? (No, but Lunar could be thinking about that)

Lunar, I believe, is blaming Earth for not 'fixing' him. He doesn't understand he needs to want to change himself for it to happen. (it's the same thing for Moon, he knows he's flawed but has given up on improving) I think Lunar just kind of assumed Earth was supposed to automatically make him better with him not doing any work himself.

Then the crux of why he's mad at Earth.

It's simple.

She's friends with Eclipse.

That's really what it is.

Think about it, he hates Eclipse. Eclipse is now in the front of his mind to the point he's acting odd and watching Nutella ads for hours. He's trying to mute his rage. What Taurus and Gemini said would anger anyone.

Telling a victim to not only get over their abuse but also get along with their abuser? It's plain wrong. Lunar has the right to hate Eclipse, the only problem is that it is harming him. Hatred will always be someone's undoing. It is a negative, putrid thing that only destroys.

He's been shoving his emotions down for so long they're bound to explode. I know Lunar loves Sun and wants to be there for him but he's been apathetic for so long now he can't. So he's lashing out and projecting his own self anger onto Earth. She's right there after all.

Solar is basically acting like a keeper to everyone and despite doing better for Sun, Solar is still emotionally distant. Moon physically isn't there. Lunar won't lash out at Monty. He won't take his frustration out on kids like Dazzle and Jack.

Earth is also just...too nice. So yeah, I absolutely understand why Lunar is angry at Earth. He's being totally unfair and immature about it too, because it's not like there's other problems, ie Sun is literally broken and can't leave bed.

but I digress, I like that Moon is stepping up. I just hope he doesn't keep dropping the ball. I think Sun right now truly doesn't think Moon cares...Moon is going to have to do a lot to show him otherwise. I'm glad Lunar finally checked on Sun and I hope he does it more often, because Sun loves Lunar too. He loves the entire family. Earth was right to cry about how they were failing Sun.

I'm really proud of Earth and Solar for stepping up to help Sun.

[lefaystrent]

One random day, Patton declares he is going on vacation. He will be leaving the mindscape for awhile, and it's up to the rest of the gang to hold down the fort while he's gone.

"You're Thomas's sense of Morality; you can't just go on vacation," Logan points out.

Patton's grin goes a little too wide, his eyes a little too intense. "Watch me."

Remus bobs his head up and down to check him out. "Since when do you do the ominous thing? I thought that was my thing. Are we playing around with each other's thingies?"

"No–thing wrong with switching things up now and then," Patton says cheerfully.

Virgil squints. "Are you Deceit in disguise?"

"I am sitting right next to you, Virgil," Janus points out. "Also, I wouldn't be caught dead in a floral print."

"Are you going to Hawaii? Without me?!" Roman demands, eyeing Patton's– well, Hawaiian shirt he's donned on rather than his usual polo.

"Now, now Roman, this is nothing personal kiddo. I'm just taking some much needed me-time. So I'll need to take this journey alone."

"Oh thank God," Janus mutters while Logan blinks rapidly, flabbergasted. Logan spits out, "We are all personified pieces of one man's personality. By the nature of our existence, you can't be alone."

"That's quitter talk," Remus butts in. He literally turns and shows them his butt for some reason, though thankfully with pants still on. "Want me to yeet you out the door, Daddy-o? See how far you can go? Or maybe load you into a ballista and send you hurtling to a beautiful bludgeoning death?"

"No thanks, bud," Patton says far too good-naturedly. "Our dear lord in Heaven gave me two perfectly good legs to walk with. I think I'll be fine."

"You're serious? Just– what, gonna walk out the door?" Virgil questions sharply. Skeptical he may be, he seems somewhat interested in seeing how far Patton will take this bit.

"Absolutely! There's a whole big wide world out there! So much to do! So much to see!"

"So what's wrong with taking the back steets," both Remus and Roman sing at the same time.

"You guys will be fine for a while without me. But just in case you miss me, I have provided each of you with your very own Patton Pal."

They each look down into their hands where a small, stuffed version of Patton materializes. It has stitched in glasses, a removable Cardigan, and its mouth is in the shape of a heart.

"What," they all respond collectively.

"If you feel lonely or need a hug, you just give your Patton Pal there a good ole squeeze! That should tide you over until I get back. Anyways, I'm gonna skeddadle now. Bye! Love you!"

And Patton walks out the front door.

Dad has left the building.

Roman ponders with pursed lips, "Sooo, did we just get abandoned?"

"Nah, I'm sure he's just gone out to pick up some milk."

"Thank you, Remus."

Virgil rises up from the couch and strides over to the door in a huff. "Alright Pat, you can come out now."

The door swings open. A brick wall is revealed where there once was not one.

"Uhhh, guys?" Virgil asks the group, stepping back. Unconsciously, he grips his Patton Pal a little tighter.

"What in the Chris Angel Mindfreak?" Remus questions and taps at the brick. His nail makes a scraping sound along the mortar. Curious, he examines his finger and licks it.

"Did he trap us in the Mindscape?" Roman asks, squeezing in between his brother to test the solidity of the wall. It is indeed a wall.

"Is this his villain origin story?"

Janus rolls his eyes at the twins. "Patton's just serious for a change, that's all. He doesn't want to be followed, and obviously he must be out hanging with Thomas. Really now, have some sense."

"You do know who you're talking to, right?" Virgil asks him waving at the twins, to which Janus gives a saucy, "Touche."

Logan sighs and begins ascending the stairs.

"What, you're just gonna leave too?" Virgil calls after him.

"I have work to do, as I'm sure the rest of you do. Patton will return once he tires of this stunt."

Logan is gone and now it's just the four of them.

"Someone's salty about being abandoned," Roman comments too loudly.

"FALSEHOOD!"

"Alllll byyyyy myseeeelffff," Remus sings off-key.

Virgil debates whether to follow Logan up or try a window next. He stares down into the beady, button eyes of his Patton Pal doll.

"Need a hug?" Janus asks him teasingly, watching him.

Virgil scoffs and shoves the plush into his hoodie pocket. It's bulky, but it fits.

Will it stay there?

Will Patton ever return?

Will the sides use this time to overcome their differences and bond as a true family?

Find out next time on "Episodes From The Mindscape"!

The screen flicks off.

[dreadfutures]

one of the worst questions I have asked myself, a question that has shaped most of my life, is: "how do you convince another human that you are human too, and worth as much and hold as much dignity as they do"

and I don't know if there is an answer, it feels like there is none. the closest thing we have is to be kind and be a force for good in your own personal little world, and that changes attitudes on small scales and hopefully that builds momentum.

it is hard to cling to that. especially when the response others have is to not only deny your humanity, but also to vehemently persecute your right to live, and protestations just reaffirm your inhumanity to them.

all we have is each other and the changes we can make in our own little worlds. :(

[gornwen]

There are many reasons to vote come November, but up there is the question of who do you want to have the honor of hosting the 2028 Paralympic Games in Los Angeles.

That's on the ballot, too. Just sayin'.

[eufezco]

LOGAN AS A GIRL DAD°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

just pure fluff with pregnant!reader and logan <3

BEFORE PREGNANCY

being a dad at his age was something logan never imagined. starting a family seemed so out of reach, after everything he’d lived, he never thought that dad was a title he deserved. but then laura came into your life, and it was hard for him because you were a natural, effortlessly knowing how to care for her.

bit by bit, he began to follow your lead, picking up your habit of checking on her before bed and tucking her in, keeping an eye on her plate and making sure she finished her veggie, checking on her when she played outside and even sitting through her favorite cartoons.

and as you watched him, you’d catch yourself wondering what it would be like to bring another little life into this family you were building. the idea of getting pregnant crossed your mind more than once, and you could see it flicker in his eyes too, like an unspoken thought that made its way between you.

—you ever thought of having kids? —he asked, quiet but serious.

you took a few seconds to think about his question. not that you needed them, you'd always wanted to have his kids, and having laura had changed things, deepened the bond between you and logan, and brought your maternal instinct back. she wasn’t your biological child, but in every other way, she was yours.

the thought of bringing up the idea of getting pregnant to logan felt selfish, especially when you knew how much he had already given and how tired he was, you knew that, so you kept your hopes to yourself, not wanting to ask for more than the peace you had found with him and laura.

—we have laura —. you answered.

—yeah, we do. but… that’s not what i’m talking about.

there was a few seconds of silence while he waited for your answer.

—yes, i've thought about it but—

—have you thought about it recently?

you nodded to his question, feeling guilty.

he slowly nodded back to you. —i've been thinking about it too.

DURING PREGNANCY

logan started helping caliban in the kitchen, something that surprised you at first because he had never been much of a cook. but the two of them would work together, preparing meals that were good for you and the baby. logan would quietly chop vegetables or stir a pot, taking caliban’s instructions (also surprising because he had not followed anyone's instructions in a long time) as they worked to make sure you had everything you needed to stay healthy.

he’d help you with things like showering when it became difficult for you to balance or reach certain places. his touch was always gentle, his movements careful, making sure you felt safe. it became an intimate routine, his fingers massaged your scalp with care.

every night he'd gently rub lotion on your growing belly, helping to care for the stretch marks that had started to appear. he knew how self-conscious they made you feel. he could see it in the way you’d glance at your reflection, letting out a frustrated huff each time you noticed a new one, how you’d try to hide it from him, or how you’d wrap yourself in a towel quickly after a shower. so he took his time applying the lotion with steady hands, his eyes focused as if making sure he was doing it right.

—another one? —you muttered, feeling the weight of it.

—doesn’t change a thing —. logan just shook his head, kneeling beside you. —it’s just a mark. i'm covered in marks, and you never cared, right?

laura sat close to you, her eyes focused on your belly as logan gently massaged your skin. she was waiting, as she always did, hoping to see her future sister move. each time logan’s hand smoothed over your growing bump, laura’s gaze would sharpen, her small body leaning forward saying come on, little sis, just one kick. sometimes she’d place her hand beside logan’s, her touch gentle but curious.

—is she going to move soon? —she’d ask in a hushed voice.

logan glanced at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. —she’s already kickin' when you’re not looking —. he teased lightly as he rubbed the cream over your stretch marks, carefully. laura’s eyes never left your belly, waiting for that one special moment.

and he'd give you foot massages, his calloused hands rubbing away the soreness from carrying extra weight. you’d close your eyes, sighing in relief, and he’d smile.

when your clothes stopped fitting, it was he who offered up his own. he’d hand over his t-shirts and flannels, which hung loose on you and smelled like him, making you feel him close to you even when he was away at work.

logan was a bit reluctant at first but when the doctor told him how important prenatal yoga was to you, he didn't have to think about it twice. he wanted to be there and help you in every way he could even though he felt a bit out of place among the soft music, peaceful atmosphere, and expectant mothers, but he never let it show.

he'd help you find comfort in each of the poses the instructor guided everyone. he was often the only man in the class, which certainly caught the attention of the other moms. perhaps they noticed the age gap between you and logan, but more likely, their attention was drawn to your undeniably handsome partner. some of them whispered to each other, half-jokingly expressing their jealousy at how lucky you were to have such a dedicated partner. you both noticed the glances but you were too focused on each other.

as the weeks went by, the mothers would often smile at him, offering you two the kindest words as they saw how attentive he was to your needs.

at the end of the class, logan leaned in and kissed you softly, his hand resting on your back. —you did great —. he murmured, his voice full of pride. as you started to gather your things, one of the mothers nearby smiled and said, you're a lucky girl.

you couldn’t help but blush a little. he gave a small, almost shy smirk in response but didn’t say anything. instead, he focused on helping you with your bag.

the moment you found out you were pregnant, he quit smoking. it was almost instinctive, he wanted nothing but the best for you and the baby, and that included kicking the habit that had stuck with him for years.

and giving up cigarettes was one thing, but quitting drinking was way harder. there were nights he’d sit in the kitchen, staring at the bottle in the cabinet, knowing he could just reach for it. but he remembered you asleep in the other room, a hand resting protectively over your belly, and he’d push the thought away. he didn’t want his daughter growing up with memories of whiskey lingering on her father’s breath.

DURING LABOR

logan was more terrified than he'd ever let you know. he had faced, battles survived unimaginable pain, and lived through horrors but this was different. watching you in pain, knowing that your body was going through something so intense shook him to his core.

he stayed by your side, gripping your hand tightly and leaning in close, his voice encouraging you to push. he'd brush the damp strands of hair that were sticking to your face and press his forehead to yours.

when the baby’s first cry filled the room, logan sighed in relief, his grip on your hand softening as he finally allowed himself to breathe. once the doctors placed her on your chest, logan leaned in by your side, his eyes shining as he looked at you. you did so good, baby, thank you so much he murmured as he kissed your sweaty forehead and one of his fingers brushed across the baby’s little cheek.

AFTER PREGNANCY

at first, he was terrified every time he held her, his usually steady hands suddenly unsure. he was afraid that even his touch might be too much. she was so tiny, so soft and fragile, and her chest rose and fell so peacefully even though her small fingers wrapped around logan's thick ones with such strength. he found himself holding his breath whenever he picked her up.

in those first few days after labor, logan seemed to be everywhere at once. checking on the baby, bringing you food, making sure you were sleeping and laura wasn't trying to sneak into your room to see the baby. she was fascinated by her little sister, how could a human being be so small? laura often asked herself.

logan would catch her on her tiptoes, face with curiosity, and he’d stop her with a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder. laura would pout, glancing past him with wide eyes, eager to get closer, but logan wasn’t having it.

you surprised him when you caught him slipping into a soft, almost comical baby voice whenever he spoke to his daughter. but it was completely unintentional, just something that happened whenever he looked down at her tiny face, her big eyes blinking up at him. oh, what’s that little face all about, huh? you got somethin’ to say, little one? he’d murmur, his voice high and gentle as he rubbed one of her cheeks.

logan never thought he’d find joy in something as simple as dressing up his little girl, but there he was, surrounded by tiny clothes, immersed in a world of pastels and patterns. the laughter that escaped his lips as he put together the outfits was genuine. alright, sweetheart, what do you think of this one? he would ask her, holding the little one in front of the mirror. the baby had no idea what was going on, but logan nodded, approving the outfit. he’d try on multiple outfits, taking photos, and sending them to you for your opinion. how about this for school? he’d text you, proudly. this one’s a bold choice, but i think you can pull it off, he’d tease, pretending to be a fashion critic.

leaving for work each day became one of the hardest things logan had to do. he hated those hours he spent apart from the three of you. and every night when he came home, the baby was already sleeping but he'd tiptoe over to the crib, and he'd place a gentle kiss on the top of her head. then he’d make his way to bed, crawling next to you and pulling you close against his chest. he’d nuzzle his head close, murmuring softly, you okay, darlin’? and though you’d only mumble a half-coherent answer, he’d still give a small, satisfied nod.

and when he gets out of work earlier, he comes home exhausted, and you can see it in his face, the tired lines around his eyes, the slight droop of his shoulders, the way he rubs the back of his neck, but despite that, he is never too tired to play with his baby girl.

as the baby grew, logan took on new challenges, like driving her to school each morning, packing her tiny backpack with her favorite snacks, and doing her hair. with dark brown locks just like laura's and his own, he gathered them into two little ponytails, a bit clumsy at first, his fingers were used to fighting and rough work, not delicate hairstyles.

laura, after seeing how much fun logan had with the little girl’s hair, wanted no less. she’d approach him, eyes bright with excitement. —can you do my hair too, logan?

—your mom can do it for you. she's much better at it than i am —. he answered, not sure if his hairdressing skills would meet the older girl's expectations.

—but i want you to do it!

logan huffed, ruffling her hair with his free hand. he used the same care gathering laura's long hair as he did for her baby sister and he found it incredibly satisfying to see laura's face light up when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

after all, he was meant to be a girl's dad. every moment with you and your daughters reminded him that all those years of solitude and struggles, had led him here to a life filled with love. he might have thought being a dad was beyond his reach, but now, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon illegally interferes with an historic UK warehouse election

I'm in to TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (Monday, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).

Amazon is very good at everything it does, including being very bad at the things it doesn't want to do. Take signing up for Prime: nothing could be simpler. The company has built a greased slide from Prime-curiosity to Prime-confirmed that is the envy of every UX designer.

But unsubscribing from Prime? That's a fucking nightmare. Somehow the company that can easily figure out how to sign up for a service is totally baffled when it comes to making it just as easy to leave. Now, there's two possibilities here: either Amazon's UX competence is a kind of erratic freak tide that sweeps in at unpredictable intervals and hits these unbelievable high-water marks, or the company just doesn't want to let you leave.

To investigate this question, let's consider a parallel: Black Flag's Roach Motel. This is an icon of American design, a little brown cardboard box that is saturated in irresistibly delicious (to cockroaches, at least) pheromones. These powerful scents make it admirably easy for all the roaches in your home to locate your Roach Motel and enter it.

But the interior of the Roach Motel is also coated in a sticky glue. Once roaches enter the motel, their legs and bodies brush up against this glue and become hopeless mired in it. A roach can't leave – not without tearing off its own legs.

It's possible that Black Flag made a mistake here. Maybe they wanted to make it just as easy for a roach to leave as it is to enter. If that seems improbable to you, well, you're right. We don't even have to speculate, we can just refer to Black Flag's slogan for Roach Motel: "Roaches check in, but they don't check out."

It's intentional, and we know that because they told us so.

Back to Amazon and Prime. Was it some oversight that cause the company make it so marvelously painless to sign up for Prime, but such a titanic pain in the ass to leave? Again, no speculation is required, because Amazon's executives exchanged a mountain of internal memos in which this is identified as a deliberate strategy, by which they deliberately chose to trick people into signing up for Prime and then hid the means of leaving Prime. Prime is a Roach Motel: users check in, but they don't check out:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

When it benefits Amazon, they are obsessive – "relentless" (Bezos's original for the company) – about user friendliness. They value ease of use so highly that they even patented "one click checkout" – the incredibly obvious idea that a company that stores your shipping address and credit card could let you buy something with a single click:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1-Click#Patent

But when it benefits Amazon to place obstacles in our way, they are even more relentless in inventing new forms of fuckery, spiteful little landmines they strew in our path. Just look at how Amazon deals with unionization efforts in its warehouses.

Amazon's relentless union-busting spans a wide diversity of tactics. On the one hand, they cook up media narratives to smear organizers, invoking racist dog-whistles to discredit workers who want a better deal:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2020/apr/02/amazon-chris-smalls-smart-articulate-leaked-memo

On the other hand, they collude with federal agencies to make workers afraid that their secret ballots will be visible to their bosses, exposing them to retaliation:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/amazon-violated-labor-law-alabama-union-election-labor-official-finds-rcna1582

They hold Cultural Revolution-style forced indoctrination meetings where they illegally threaten workers with punishment for voting in favor of their union:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/31/business/economy/amazon-union-staten-island-nlrb.html

And they fire Amazon tech workers who express solidarity with warehouse workers:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/amazon-fires-tech-employees-workers-criticism-warehouse-climate-policies/

But all this is high-touch, labor-intensive fuckery. Amazon, as we know, loves automation, and so it automates much of its union-busting: for example, it created an employee chat app that refused to deliver any message containing words like "fairness" or "grievance":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/05/doubleplusrelentless/#quackspeak

Amazon also invents implausible corporate fictions that allow it to terminate entire sections of its workforce for trying to unionize, by maintaining the tormented pretense that these workers, who wear Amazon uniforms, drive Amazon trucks, deliver Amazon packages, and are tracked by Amazon down to the movements of their eyeballs, are, in fact, not Amazon employees:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-drivers-unionized-then-amazon-tried-to-terminate-his-contract/

These workers have plenty of cause to want to unionize. Amazon warehouses are sources of grueling torment. Take "megacycling," a ten-hour shift that runs from 1:20AM to 11:50AM that workers are plunged into without warning or the right to refuse. This isn't just a night shift – it's a night shift that makes it impossible to care for your children or maintain any kind of normal life.

Then there's Jeff Bezos's war on his workers' kidneys. Amazon warehouse workers and drivers notoriously have to pee in bottles, because they are monitored by algorithms that dock their pay for taking bathroom breaks. The road to Amazon's warehouse in Coventry, England is littered with sealed bottles of driver piss, defenestrated by drivers before they reach the depot inspection site.

There's so much piss on the side of the Coventry road that the prankster Oobah Butler was able to collect it, decant it into bottles, and market it on Amazon as an energy beverage called "Bitter Lemon Release Energy," where it briefly became Amazon's bestselling energy drink:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

(Butler promises that he didn't actually ship any bottled piss to people who weren't in on the gag – but let's just pause here and note how weird it is that a guy who hates our kidneys as much as Jeff Bezos built and flies a penis-shaped rocket.)

Butler also secretly joined the surge of 1,000 workers that Amazon hired for the Coventry warehouse in advance of a union vote, with the hope of diluting the yes side of that vote and forestall the union. Amazon displayed more of its famously selective competence here, spotting Butler and firing him in short order, while totally failing to notice that he was marketing bottles of driver piss as a bitter lemon drink on Amazon's retail platform.

After a long fight, Amazon's Coventry workers are finally getting their union vote, thanks to the GMB union's hard fought battle at the Central Arbitration Committee:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/04/26/amazon-warehouse-workers-in-coventry-will-vote-on-trade-union-recognition/

And right on schedule, Amazon has once again discovered its incredible facility for ease-of-use. The company has blanketed its shop floor with radioactively illegal "one click to quit the union" QR codes. When a worker aims their phones at the code and clicks the link, the system auto-generates a letter resigning the worker from their union.

As noted, this is totally illegal. English law bans employers from "making an offer to an employee for the sole or main purpose of inducing workers not to be members of an independent trade union, take part in its activities, or make use of its services."

Now, legal or not, this may strike you as a benign intervention on Amazon's part. Why shouldn't it be easy for workers to choose how they are represented in their workplaces? But the one-click system is only half of Amazon's illegal union-busting: the other half is delivered by its managers, who have cornered workers on the shop floor and ordered them to quit their union, threatening them with workplace retaliation if they don't.

This is in addition to more forced "captive audience" meetings where workers are bombarded with lies about what life in an union shop is like.

Again, the contrast couldn't be more stark. If you want to quit a union, Amazon makes this as easy as joining Prime. But if you want to join a union, Amazon makes that even harder than quitting Prime. Amazon has the same attitude to its workers and its customers: they see us all as a resource to be extracted, and have no qualms about tricking or even intimidating us into doing what's best for Amazon, at the expense of our own interests.

The campaigning law-firm Foxglove is representing five of Amazon's Coventry workers. They're doing the lord's work:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/05/02/legal-challenge-to-amazon-uks-new-one-click-to-quit-the-union-tool/

All this highlights the increasing divergence between the UK and the US when it comes to labor rights. Under the Biden Administration, @NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo has promulgated a rule that grants a union automatic recognition if the boss does anything to interfere with a union election:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

In other words, if Amazon tries these tactics in the USA now, their union will be immediately recognized. Abruzzo has installed an ultra-sensitive tilt-sensor in America's union elections, and if Bezos or his class allies so much as sneeze in the direction of their workers' democratic rights, they automatically lose.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/06/one-click-to-quit-the-union/#foxglove

Image: Isabela.Zanella (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ballot-box-2.jpg

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

[pathologicalreid]

Can I please request protective Spencer x BAU!Reader who get "lightly" hurt or put in danger bc SWAT or local police made a mistake, and Spencer goes OFF on them. Hotch or Rossi have to calm him down because no one but the BAU knows theyre dating. I'd love to see protective Spencer if possible :)

no sign of danger | S.R.

when SWAT makes a mistake that puts you in danger, your boyfriend is... displeased

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: bloody nose, concussion, split lip, blood, mild violence. spencer reid says the f word. word count: 1.58k a/n: anon, not to be dramatic but something about writing this changed my brain chemistry. thank you for requesting!!! i hope you like it!

The time between arriving at a scene and when SWAT cleared the building was almost always intolerable. There were too many variables at play. It made you uneasy.

So, you waited, leaning on the side of an SUV with your Kevlar already strapped on, you turned to look at Hotch, “We’ve got an audience.”

Breadcrumbs that Garcia had picked up led the team to a house in a small town in Arizona. Unfortunately, the FBI garnered a lot of attention, and neighbors were starting to gather around the house. Hotch nodded, “Reid, JJ, work with the locals on crowd control, and make sure no one is recording. The last thing we need is for the news crews to show up.”

You offered Spencer a small smile as he turned to follow the blond to the barrier. He waved behind his back as he walked away.

Chuckling from right next to you got your attention, just to see Morgan shaking his head, “You two have it so bad.”

“I like to think we have it good, actually,” you said, flushing slightly. The teasing came with the territory, dating within the BAU meant never knowing a moment of peace – especially with Derek Morgan around.

There wasn’t an opportunity for him to respond, because as soon as he opened his mouth, your radio buzzed to life in your ear, “Building is clear. No sign of danger.” At the sound of the SWAT commander’s voice, you and Morgan surged forward to enter the building, Emily and Hotch following close behind.

Behind you, Hotch cleared his throat, “Morgan, Y/L/N, take the two rooms in the back, we’ll take the front.”

Nodding at your orders, you and Morgan walked past the staircase and to the opposite end of the house, where the kitchen and the den were. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned,” you thought aloud, dragging your index finger along the kitchen counter, and cringing when it came back covered in dust.

As you wiped your hand on your jeans, you looked up to see Morgan sorting through a vinyl record collection. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone’s even entered this house in years.”

You hummed, opening the first cabinet you saw, wrinkling your nose at the discovery that the house also smelled like it had been abandoned. As you went to close the cabinet, the one below you swung open, the force of the doors almost knocking you to the ground.

Stumbling back, you saw a flash of hands before you were slammed into the refrigerator behind you. Immediately, you dropped to the floor, watching as Morgan tackled the guy and shouted for Hotch and Prentiss.

“We need an ambulance, Y/N’s down,” Emily spoke urgently into her radio while Morgan cuffed your attacker.

You winced at the way the radio buzzed in your ear; the way Emily’s voice echoed combined with the throbbing pain in your head made you nauseous. “What do you mean ‘Y/N’s down’?” Spencer’s voice rang through the radios, prompting you to haphazardly yank the coiled wire from your ear.

Everything sounded like you were underwater, Emily and Hotch asked you questions as the fog cleared from your head, “You’re bleeding,” Emily said, there was a worried look in her eyes.

Hesitantly, you pulled your hand from your face, just to see it covered in blood. You weren’t even sure how long you had been holding your hand to your face. “Can you stand?” Hotch asked you, his tone was concerned, but there was something else buried within it.

Nodding slowly, both of them helped you stand. Emily hooked an arm through yours when you stumbled slightly, she led you out of the house and to the ambulance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Morgan place his hand atop your attacker’s head, protecting it from the top of the police cruiser.

As soon as you sat down on the back of the ambulance, an EMT handed you a towel to hold to your nose. Your eyes flittered up to see Spencer approaching the ambulance, but to your surprise, he turned at the last moment and faced down the SWAT commander. “What happened in there?” He asked, his tone wholly accusatory.

“It looks like the person of interest was hiding in the kitchen when your team entered,” Commander Polk answered, obviously thinking Spencer was just asking for a sort of status report.

Spencer shook his head, “We’re hunting for a serial killer, and you had the audacity to miss the presence of an entire person?” He asked incredulously, “Did you even clear the kitchen?” He pointed in the direction of the house, where Rossi and JJ were now entering to look around more.

The SWAT commander faltered for a moment, “Someone did, but it wasn’t me personally.”

You winced as the EMT prodded at your face, surmising that your nose wasn’t broken, just bleeding badly as a result of the blunt force of the refrigerator. She pulled your hand from your face so she could inspect for any further damage. You opened your mouth to talk, but the EMT was quick to stop you, “You shouldn’t talk, not until we can look at the cut on your lip.”

While the EMTs got more supplies out, Emily helped you take off your Kevlar vest, undoing the Velcro for you and gently tugging it off. The entire front of it was covered in blood, you winced at the sight of the now-red letters.

“You need to figure out whoever checked the kitchen and make sure they know what they’re doing,” Spencer said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Commander Polk’s demeanor instantly changed, “I assure you, agent, we take training our team very seriously. This was just a mistake.”

Even from this distance, you saw Spencer roll his eyes. “First of all, it’s doctor,” he corrected – at which you rolled your eyes. “Second of all, of course, you take training seriously, it’s mandated by the federal government. This was a mistake, a mistake that ended in the injury of a federal agent,” you looked from Hotch to Spencer, hoping your unit chief would do something before Spencer got punched by the SWAT commander. “SWAT making mistakes gets other law enforcement officers killed,” he continued.

“What’s your point, doctor?” The commander asked.

Spencer cleared his throat, “I’m saying you’re fucking lucky she didn’t get killed, or else-“

“Reid!” Hotch called, stalking over to where your boyfriend was nearly getting into a fistfight with SWAT. He muttered something unintelligible to Polk before dragging Spencer away by the elbow, “What was that?”

Your boyfriend threw his hands up in the air, “He needed to be made aware of their mistake.”

Sternly, your unit chief shook his head, “They are aware, Reid, and I assure you I’m not going to drop it and there will be an internal investigation into what went wrong.” He raised his eyebrows, “That being said, it’s not your job to take care of mistakes made by other people.”

“No,” Spencer agreed, “but it is my job to take care of her,” he said, gesturing over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance.

Hotch pointed around to the locals and other SWAT members, “They don’t know that, Reid.” He whispered, keeping his voice down so he didn’t expose your relationship to everyone in the Arizona town. “Let me take care of it,” was his final statement before he walked back to Commander Polk.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Spencer spun around and finally walked over to you. Emily nodded at you before stepping away, “Are you alright?” He asked.

You flashed him a thumbs up, gesturing toward the EMT, who answered for you, “We just glued the gash on her lip, so she can’t really talk right now. She’ll be fine though, maybe a small scar, if anything.”

“Good,” Spencer said, ambling over and taking a seat next to you. “I was so worried about you,” he murmured, and you watched as he restrained himself from touching you.

Humming, you leaned into him for just a moment. Your movement was intentional, but it was quick enough that any passersby would assume you were just unsteady.

The EMTs left once the glue on your lip dried, directing you to ice it periodically to help with swelling and handing you care instructions.

You were left with a mild concussion, a split lip, and ruined clothes. All things considered, you felt like you were pretty lucky. The rest of the team piled into the SUVs, you and Spencer sitting in the back of one with Hotch at the helm and Emily in the passenger seat. “Who knew Reid had it in him?” Emily wondered aloud, eliciting a small laugh from you.

“I can’t believe you almost got into a physical fight with SWAT over a split lip and concussion,” you said, smiling slightly, but stopping as you felt the glue on your lip tugging.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t over the split lip and concussion, it was over the abhorrent display of-“

“Reid,” Hotch said in his no-nonsense tone.

Your boyfriend slouched back in his seat, “So, maybe it was over the split lip and concussion.”

Closing your eyes, you reached over the middle seat and took his hand in yours, “Thanks, Spence.” You whispered so that only he could hear, leaning over the gap between you and setting your head on his shoulder.

please remember to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!

[badbugbotblood]

WH- ME? And my tiny account? Getting tagged in something neat out of the blue? Well I'll be!

(pspspsps @king-candybug-backup)

As for my results:

A perfect 50/50 split between these two, which on the surface level does make sense.

Hey everyone!

I just made a Core Four-themed personality quiz!

@bashfulgnome

@thebluejetpack

@sadboytristan

@sgtcalhouns

@junkkey

@badbugbotblood

@speared-mint

@wreckitralphrestart

@wreck-it-hell

@ask-icancraft-it

@therockyroadster

@randomalistic

Reblog this post with your results!

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.

*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one and part three! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.

What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?

You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.

I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.

Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?

June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.

Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.

And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.

I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.

I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?

My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.

What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.

I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.

I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.

I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.

It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...

"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.

My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"

I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.

"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.

You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.

Why is this oddly arousing?

With one final shove I landed onto my face.

There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.

No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.

Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.

Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.

[whetstonefires]

One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.

Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.

We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.

Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.

And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.

And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.

About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.

What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?

Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?

Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?

Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.

It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.

Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.

[devondespresso]

Let Me Raise The Bar

T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff

This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys

This night is going terribly.

He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.

Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.

He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!

But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.

At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.

Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.

And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.

But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.

His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.

He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.

He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.

Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.

“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”

There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.

“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”

He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”

Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.

Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”

Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.

“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.

Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.

He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.

He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.

The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.

Maybe this night really can turn around.

“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.

“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.

“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”

Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.

“You practice that one a lot?”

Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.

“Yeah, it’s uh…”

“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”

Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.

Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.

“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”

“A special kind of shitty?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”

“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”

“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”

Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”

“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”

Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”

A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.

Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.

“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”

Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”

Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.

“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.

Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.

“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”

Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.

“So your job. You like it here?

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”

“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”

“Where'd you guys play?”

“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”

Steve nods.

“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.“

“Sounds like a great second date.”

Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.

“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”

“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”

“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.

Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.

“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”

Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.

“Guidance counselor, actually.”

“Oh damn, really?”

“Yeah, Middle school.”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”

“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”

“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”

“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”

“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”

“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”

“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed

“Twenty-six.”

Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.

“You'd love them, they're all–

Steve’s phone buzzes.

Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.

His phone buzzes again.

And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.

Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.

“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”

“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”

“I texted you what happened.”

“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”

“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.

“Is going well.” Steve smiles.

“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.

“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.

“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”

“M’not doing that.”

“I will though, I’ll go after him–”

“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.

“Steve, I know–”

“Love you, bye–”

“Steeeeve–”

“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.

“Sorry about that.” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”

“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”

Eddie snorts.

“What was she calling about?”

“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”

Eddie nods civilly.

“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”

“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.

“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.

“Then why keep going to them?”

Steve shrugs.

“Call me an optimist, I guess.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.

_

The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.

It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.

So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.

Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.

“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.

“So Dustin is…?”

“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”

“Nerd shit?”

“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”

“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.

“Casually.”

“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”

“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.

“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.

“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.

“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.

Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.

“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.

“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.

“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”

Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.

“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.

“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.

Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.

“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.

Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.

“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.

It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.

Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.

And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.

_

“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.

He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.

“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.

“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”

Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.

“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”

If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.

Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.

“What do you want?”

Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.

“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”

Eddie nods.

“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”

Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.

“And?”

Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.

“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”

Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.

“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”

Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.

“Okay, then. Case closed.”

“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.

It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.

Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.

Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.

Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.

Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.

Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.

“Does this mean I can get your number?”

[teamatsumu]

L&DS BOYS - LOVE LANGUAGES

content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, sfw headcanons

XAVIER - PHYSICAL TOUCH

Xavier knows he is smart, and witty enough. But when things get a little too real, he finds it hard to express himself.

And the feelings he has for you are the most genuine ones he has felt in his long, long life.

While he might not be someone who can wax poetic about his affection for you, he shows it in other ways, and physical touch in his favorite way to get his feelings across.

When you walk next to each other, he sticks close, arm brushing against yours. Occasionally, the back of his hand makes contact with your own. It's almost as if the tension builds and builds, until he finally connects your fingers, either intertwining your hands together or linking his pinkie with yours. No words leave his mouth. His touch says enough.

If the train is too crowded, he will pull you closer to him with a firm touch on the small of your back, making sure you don’t receive any unwanted bumps from strangers.

For a few weeks in your relationship, he developed a strange habit of pinching your cheeks and lightly pulling on them. You let him do it, knowing he would eventually move on and find some other part of you to focus on. Though the action did make your face heat up.

Another weird hyperfixation he has is nibbling at your fingertips absentmindedly. He plays with them often, but when he is distracted by a movie you two are watching, he will bite at them every so often. Sometimes, he is so focused on the screen that you doubt he even realizes what he is doing.

(He realizes. He just thinks every part of you deserves love. Don’t question it. It makes sense in his head.)

Cuddling with him is the perfect gift for your senses, stimulating you wonderfully.

Small nips on your skin, little lingering touches. He traces your skin with eager yet gentle hands, as if trying to memorize every curve and dip.

He buries his face in your neck and breathes in deep, and in that moment, bodies tangled with each other and the sheets, vulnerable and open, he will whisper, “I love you”.

It’s an affirmation more than a revelation, since his actions up until this point have all shown you that he really, truly does love you. So you whisper it back, trying to pour all your love into it, before slotting your lips together and using physical touch to convey your feelings right back.

RAFAYEL - WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

Rafayel is, in the simplest of terms, a yapper.

This man could talk for hours if you don’t stop him. About his art, about the meaning of life, about his experiences. He can express so much while also having an impeccable talent of being completely vague. Sometimes, you don’t even understand the things he says. And you’ve given up trying to decipher his every word.

But when Rafayel is talking about you, he makes himself abundantly clear. There’s no ambiguity about it; he loves you. And he will say it a million different times in a million different ways. Whether it be a bold declaration of how much his heart yearns for you, or endless teasing that is meant to rile you up and get a reaction out of you.

“I don’t think your talent lies in art, babe. It’s a good thing you’re a walking art piece yourself. No wonder I’m in love with you.”

“You’re leaving so soon? But I don’t think I’ve admired you enough for today. Don’t leave me!”

I’m impressed, Miss Bodyguard. You’re talented, and easy on the eyes. No wonder you captivated me from that very first day we met.”

Expect to wake up with a lot of voice notes on your phone. Minutes long. Sometimes rambling, sometimes actual ideas for new pieces that he wants to run by you. You better reply to all of them individually.

When you cuddle at night, you can talk for hours. No topic on earth is off limits with him. He will lay you down on a blanket on the beach, and as you watch the stars, he will tell you stories from olden times about star crossed lovers and tragic fairy tales. And he will turn to you, tell you how beautiful you are, how ardently he loves you, how he will never forget any moment he spends with you.

It’s almost like you can tell the exact moment he falls in love with you. Because he tells you. He never stops telling you. He voices his fears of you leaving him, he makes you promise you will never go away. He is clingy and he is whiny, and he is so endearing.

It’s hard to dismiss him when he is so loud about his love. And it’s hard to not fall for him just as he falls for you.

ZAYNE - ACTS OF SERVICE

This is an indisputable fact. Dr Zayne shows his love through acts of service.

He is intensely aware of your needs, and is miles ahead of you in determining what you require at any given moment.

It’s his way of showing you that he cares. He worries for you, and born from that worry is the urge to take care of you.

If you have had a long day, you will come home to a text from him saying he has ordered takeout and it will arrive at your house shortly, since he knows you are too exhausted to cook anything. It is always something different, but it is always food that he knows you enjoy. He will mix it with some healthy options too.

If you ever crash at his place, you will wake up to a tall glass of water and two aspirin on the side table, along with a note in his neat handwriting telling you that there is fresh cooked breakfast in the oven (he made it before he left for work).

Once you two are in a steady relationship, he keeps his house stocked with products you use. A spare shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, a bathrobe of your size, a hair brush, you name it.

When you mumble something about the hand cream in your purse that is nearly running out, you will find a brand new tube next time you open the purse, and there is no need to even ask. You know Zayne put it there.

He is intensely observant. Even after knowing him for so long, it catches you off guard. He knows which of your clothes need to be dry cleaned and which ones are good for the washing machine. He knows which scents you use. Which products are harsher on your skin. He knows that contacts irritate your eyes after long hours of wearing them, so he keeps a small bottle of eye drops in your side table for that very purpose.

He scolds you for neglecting yourself, and he won’t hold back the harsh tone if he thinks your behavior is particularly destructive. To him, the best way to show love is to make sure your beloved is living the best life they can.

It is the littlest things, the tiniest details. And it shocks you, even after so long.

[bi-writes]

whats wrong with ai?? genuinely curious <3

okay let's break it down. i'm an engineer, so i'm going to come at you from a perspective that may be different than someone else's.

i don't hate ai in every aspect. in theory, there are a lot of instances where, in fact, ai can help us do things a lot better without. here's a few examples:

ai detecting cancer

ai sorting recycling

some practical housekeeping that gemini (google ai) can do

all of the above examples are ways in which ai works with humans to do things in parallel with us. it's not overstepping--it's sorting, using pixels at a micro-level to detect abnormalities that we as humans can not, fixing a list. these are all really small, helpful ways that ai can work with us.

everything else about ai works against us. in general, ai is a huge consumer of natural resources. every prompt that you put into character.ai, chatgpt? this wastes water + energy. it's not free. a machine somewhere in the world has to swallow your prompt, call on a model to feed data into it and process more data, and then has to generate an answer for you all in a relatively short amount of time.

that is crazy expensive. someone is paying for that, and if it isn't you with your own money, it's the strain on the power grid, the water that cools the computers, the A/C that cools the data centers. and you aren't the only person using ai. chatgpt alone gets millions of users every single day, with probably thousands of prompts per second, so multiply your personal consumption by millions, and you can start to see how the picture is becoming overwhelming.

that is energy consumption alone. we haven't even talked about how problematic ai is ethically. there is currently no regulation in the united states about how ai should be developed, deployed, or used.

what does this mean for you?

it means that anything you post online is subject to data mining by an ai model (because why would they need to ask if there's no laws to stop them? wtf does it matter what it means to you to some idiot software engineer in the back room of an office making 3x your salary?). oh, that little fic you posted to wattpad that got a lot of attention? well now it's being used to teach ai how to write. oh, that sketch you made using adobe that you want to sell? adobe didn't tell you that anything you save to the cloud is now subject to being used for their ai models, so now your art is being replicated to generate ai images in photoshop, without crediting you (they have since said they don't do this...but privacy policies were never made to be human-readable, and i can't imagine they are the only company to sneakily try this). oh, your apartment just installed a new system that will use facial recognition to let their residents inside? oh, they didn't train their model with anyone but white people, so now all the black people living in that apartment building can't get into their homes. oh, you want to apply for a new job? the ai model that scans resumes learned from historical data that more men work that role than women (so the model basically thinks men are better than women), so now your resume is getting thrown out because you're a woman.

ai learns from data. and data is flawed. data is human. and as humans, we are racist, homophobic, misogynistic, transphobic, divided. so the ai models we train will learn from this. ai learns from people's creative works--their personal and artistic property. and now it's scrambling them all up to spit out generated images and written works that no one would ever want to read (because it's no longer a labor of love), and they're using that to make money. they're profiting off of people, and there's no one to stop them. they're also using generated images as marketing tools, to trick idiots on facebook, to make it so hard to be media literate that we have to question every single thing we see because now we don't know what's real and what's not.

the problem with ai is that it's doing more harm than good. and we as a society aren't doing our due diligence to understand the unintended consequences of it all. we aren't angry enough. we're too scared of stifling innovation that we're letting it regulate itself (aka letting companies decide), which has never been a good idea. we see it do one cool thing, and somehow that makes up for all the rest of the bullshit?

[katszumi]

bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.

once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.

when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.

he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.

love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.

bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.

but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.

bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.

“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”

you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”

bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.

it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.

you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.

truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.

“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”

in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.

“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”

you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.

“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.

he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.

“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”

“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.

“what?”

“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.

“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.

you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.

“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”

bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.

“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.

“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”

“you don’t know that yet.”

“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”

“because you’re scared.”

you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”

he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.

“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.

“you never ask to begin with.”

“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.

he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.

“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”

“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.

“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”

“what do you want me to say here?”

“i want you to be honest.”

bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.

so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.

“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”

bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.

he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.

he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.

bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.

the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.

pt two

[bratzbrat]

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨'𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦!

𝐀 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭!

✶pairing: Pro!Hero! Katsuki Bakugo x fem! model reader.

✶cw: harassment! explicit language! female reader!

2.4k words!

you got a rare day off giving you the perfect chance to relax. so you thought, why not go for a little walk through the shopping district... while you trying to ignore all the eyes on you. you hardly even made it past the first few stores before you heard your name called out.

"y/n! oh my gosh, is it really you?" a young girl beamed, conveniently holding a marker in her hand. "can I get an autograph?" she shouted, waving the marker and a napkin in your face. several others quickly joined in, once they saw the commotion, surrounding you in excitement.

"sure!" you smiled, nodding as you started signing whatever random item they brought for you, answering some of their questions, and sharing a few laughs here and there. the energy around you was infectious, and you enjoyed each brief interaction.

as you were signing a fan's shoulder, a familiar green-haired figure approached, catching your eye. Deku. smiling ear to ear as he walked over.

"hey, y/n!" he greeted warmly, giving you a small wave.

"Deku! hey! patrolling?" you replied, glad to see him.

"yeah- thought I'd come say hi," he smiled again and your fans immediately turned their attention to him, some letting out gasps and squeals. "Deku!! can I get a picture with you?" a fan asked excitedly.

Deku laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "oh, uh, sure!" he leaned down a bit to get in view of the camera.

"can I have one too!"

"me too!"

"and me!!"

they bombarded him, shoving their phones in his face. you chuckled as the group of fans quickly surrounded him, their attention now entirely focused on the pro hero. he signed t-shirts, posed for photos, and exchanged a few words with each fan. Then, one particularly bold fan stepped forward, undoing her shirt at her chest.

"please sign my tits!" she asked, as she made her way into Deku's view, with a mischievous glint in her eye, sticking out her well endowed chest.

Deku's face turned bright red, and he chuckled awkwardly. "uh… I think that might be a little too… um…" he gently pulled her shirt close with the tips of his fingers, careful enough not to touch her, glancing at you with a helpless look, clearly not sure how to handle the situation.

you just raised an amused eyebrow, trying to hold back a laugh.

finally, Deku cleared his throat, offering the fan a sheepish smile. "maybe another time?" he said awkwardly before turning back to you. "I'd better be on my way. It was nice running into you!"

"likewise, Deku. see ya' around," you replied with a smile.

with another small wave, he continued down the street, the fans reluctantly letting him go. as he swung on neighboring buildings, he disappeared into the distance, and you turned back to your own walk, shaking your head in amusement.

you continued down the bustling street, just about to turn into a quieter one when a man approached, his hands nervously tucked in his jacket pockets.

"e-excuse me… you're y/n, right?" he asked, a shy smile on his face. "would you, uh- mind me getting your autograph?" he handed you a little book and pen, he also oh so coincidentally was carrying.

"of course!" you replied, taking the pen he offered. "what's your name?" you asked, just to be polite and keep up your image. his voice was soft, almost unsteady, and he kept his gaze mostly averted, occasionally stealing glances at you.

"t-takao," he fiddled with his fingers, "can I uh-" he said, holding up his book after you'd signed. "could we, um, take a photo together?"

"sure thing," you agreed, leaning in as he extended his arm to snap a quick selfie.

he cleared his throat, looking at you with a bit more confidence. "so… are you free later? maybe we could grab a coffee together?"

you blinked, surprised by his question. politely, you shook your head. "I'm sorry, my schedule is pretty packed." you smiled.

"oh-" he said, his expression looking like his heart got shattered. "well—what about tomorrow?" he fiddled with his hands.

"I'm a really busy person y'know," you refused again, hoping he'd take a hint. but he persisted. coming up with a solution to every escape you had. and he had the audacity to throw in some compliments too.

"thank you, but I actually have a boyfriend." you blurted out. hopefully that would deter him.

his expression shifted, a small frown forming. "really?" he cocked his head,"then where is he?" crossing his arms. "if he's really your boyfriend, he should be here with you, right?"

"he's busy," you replied, maintaining your calm. brows twitching, wanting to frown back at him.

he didn't back down, still undeterred. "a real man wouldn't leave someone like you all alone," he said, voice growing a little louder, enough to catch the attention of a few people passing by. "a flower as beautiful as you deserves someone who'll cherish you—someone who'd make you their priority." he preached.

people began to slow down, their eyes flicking over to the two of you, curiosity piqued by the growing tension.

"look, I appreciate the compliments, but I'm very happy with my relationship, thank you." you said, trying to dismiss him with a firm, irritated smile.

"happy?" he scoffed, his eyes glinting in a way that sent a slight chill down your spine. "he's not even here for you, and you call that happiness?" he spread his arms, voice louder now as he addressed the gathering onlookers. "does this sound like a relationship worth staying in, to you all?"

phones appeared as people started recording, capturing the scene unfolding before them.

"look at what you did," he muttered, his tone taking on a darker edge as he leaned closer. "now I'll have to take you somewhere quieter… somewhere just for us."

he grabbed your arm, tighter than you anticipated, as he pulled you closer, and before you could even shout, he covered your mouth with his talon like hand and cradled your body with his. he groaned in pain, and his body seemed to fight himself for a moment, before massive black wings burst from his back, shredding his shirt as they unfolded, the wind from the movement, almost knocked over the people who were standing around watching.

"no—" you managed to scream out, as he shot up into the sky. the wind whipped around you as he flew you higher, the people below shrinking into, dots. your heart pounded, the sheer altitude growing more and more unsettling.

as you soared higher, the chill of the air intensified, and memories of flying like this with Katsuki filled your mind. unlike this stranger's firm grip, Katsuki would always pull you close, letting you nestle into him to keep warm.

the man's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "see?" he murmured smugly, "isn't it nice, being with someone who's actually here for you?"

"put me down." you twisted your head to look at him, your previous expression hardening.

"why would I do that?" he sneered, tightening grip around you. "you're finally getting the attention you deserve."

-

inside a bustling shopping center, Katsuki paused by a storefront TV, eyeing the news coverage of some villain that had made a scene downtown. then the screen flashed with breaking news: "Famous Model Kidnapped by Mysterious Villain!" his heart dropped as he saw the shaky footage — you, caught in the clutches of a tall man with massive black wings, being carried off into the sky.

he felt his blood boil, his fists clenched so tightly his palms tingled with the urge to explode. how dare that creep lay his hands on you? you weren't some damsel for some villain to mess with.

without a second thought, he blasted off, ignoring the stunned onlookers and fans who shouted his name, trying to grab his attention, but, none of them mattered right now. they blurred into the background as he launched himself higher into the sky, the world rushing past in a flurry of wind and speed.

his eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. then, in the distance, he spotted them — a figure with expansive wings cutting through the sky, with you held tightly against him. Katsuki's jaw tightened. He could practically hear the guy's cocky attitude from here, thinking he could just fly off with you.

"think again," Katsuki muttered under his breath.

with a sharp blast, he propelled himself forward, closing the distance with ruthless speed.

-

you heard the familiar crackle and boom of explosions growing louder, coming closer toward you, and a smirk tugged at your lips. the vulture guy must've heard it too because his wings suddenly beat faster, propelling you both higher into the clouds in a frantic attempt to escape. he came to a stop just above the cloud line, his wings flapping to keep him steady as he waited, tension clear in every movement.

"pesky pro heroes," he muttered under his breath, his grip on you tightening as he angled your body in front of him like a shield. "always sticking their noses where they don't belong."

and then, like a comet tearing through the heavens, Katsuki blasted upward, scattering the clouds in a single, powerful burst. the shockwave cleared a massive circle, leaving nothing but blue sky around you and the distant earth below. your heart pounded with a mix of relief and exhilaration as your boyfriend zoomed toward you, his expression deadly serious.

"hand her over, feather-brain!" Katsuki snarled, his eyes blazing, as he charged forward.

the vulture guy scoffed. "oh yeah? or what? you gonna blast me out of the sky while I'm holding her?" he threatened, adjusting you so there's no opening for your boyfriend to get him.

"try me," Katsuki growled, inching closer with each word, explosions simmering in his palms.

Katsuki launched forward, diving straight at the vulture guy, who cursed and released you in a split-second decision to save himself. your heart raced, as gravity took hold, pulling you back down to where you belong. the wind whipping around you as you fell through the open sky.

you barely had time to scream before a pair of arms wrapped around you again, the dark wings catching the wind as he carried you back up into the clouds. instinctively, you latched onto him to steady yourself, but he only chuckled, his smug grin too close for comfort.

"see?" he sneered. "I told you, you need someone like me—"

"I'd rather die!" you snapped, disgust bubbling up as you pushed against him, shoving at his face with all the force you could muster. "I don't need you, and I definitely don't want you!" you yelled, fingers poking into his eyes and palms pressing into his nose.

he tried to adjust his grip, but you kept shoving and squirming, pushing at his forehead, his chin—anywhere he couldn't shield. "get your hands off me!" you shouted, making it as difficult as possible for him to hold on.

finally, his patience broke. he scowled, peeling your arms off him, and muttered, "fine, have it your way!" before he let go.

but this time, in your peripheral vision, you saw him—a streak of blond and fire blazing toward you. Katsuki was close, eyes focused and arms outstretched.

with a final push from his explosions, he reached you just in time. you threw your arms around his neck, holding on with everything you had as his strong arms wrapped securely around you for a brief moment. the familiar scent of burnt caramel was grounding, making sure you knew who had you safe in his grasp.

"gotcha," he murmured, cradling your head, before abruptly landing on the ground a few moments later. his hands lingered on your waist as he looked you over, his eyes softening just a little. "you okay?"

You nodded, a little breathless but grinning. "yeah. thanks, now go get 'em." you patted his chest.

Katsuki's lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint as he released you and turned to face where the vulture guy was flying away. "stay here," he growled. "i've got a bird to clip."

with that, he launched himself off the ground in a thunderous blast, leaving you to watch as he closed in on the vulture. 

with a final, brutal bam! Katsuki sent the vulture guy hurtling down from the sky, body twisted and crumpled as he landed. the impact left him sprawled out on the ground, looking charred and twitching, like a helpless insect on its last legs.

Katsuki landed a few feet away, instantly scanning the crowd before his eyes locked onto you. he stormed over, barely noticing the murmur of fans who had gathered nearby. his hands rested comfortably on your waist, holding you firmly, as his fingers pressed lightly into your side, though his expression was still hardened.

"are you hurt?" he asked, his voice dropping into a rare, gentle tone as he reached up, tilting your face up to his. He brushed a thumb over your cheek, checking for any signs of distress.

You shook your head, smiling up at him. "I'm all good. you reached just in time. thanks again."

he smirked and leaned in to kiss you, relief flashing across his face before his usual confident expression took over. he was about to pull away when you both noticed the growing crowd surrounding you, fans and onlookers buzzing with excitement, phones pointed in your direction.

"is that Dynamight's secret lover?"

"are they together? oh my god!"

"my blog is gonna love this!"

whispers turned to shouts, and you could feel your cheeks warming at the sudden attention. Katsuki, however, seemed completely unfazed. he stood protectively close, his arm slipping possessively around you as he blasted you both away from the center of attention.

-

a few days later, at a press event for pro heroes, reporters seized the opportunity, eager to grill Katsuki about the incident.

"Dynamight!" one reporter called, stepping forward. "there's been a lot of speculation about your relationship with the popular model. Are you two... well- together?"

Katsuki's crimson eyes sharpened at the question, but his answer came swift, a confident smirk on his lips. "yeah," he said, without a shred of hesitation. "and I'll have you know, anyone who messes with her messes with me." he looked directly into the camera at the back.

the room buzzed with murmurs and a flurry of questions, but Katsuki stood tall, unbothered by the chaos. his message was loud and clear.

as he left the press conference, you were waiting for him backstage. he grinned as he approached, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

"guess the whole of Japan knows now, huh?" you teased, looking up at him, adjusting his blazer.

"good," he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "saves me from having to tell every idiot that thinks they've got a chance."

is it just me or does anyone else love the model reader idea? it just makes sense y'know?

anywho! enjoy this little something I wrote after I read this!

read tough skinned now on wattpad!

thanks for all the likes and reblogs! I'm glad you enjoy my writing (^_^)/~~

©𝐵𝑙𝑢♡

[animeshotsh]

Family meeting | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader

Summary: Lucifer wants you to meet Charlie, the only problem? He needs to go to the hotel.

PT2 Of This and a full one shot of this.

Warnings: Off Canon in terms of time | Mentions of past abuse | Cursing | Reader gets loved by everybody | Probably some OOC | SFW | Grammar mistakes |

Lucifer undertood, really, he knew Charlie was too worried about her Hotel to ever leave it alone. He also felt bad about asking her to just come home to meet you, after all he was not a present figure in her life.

"(Y/n) are you ready ?" Lucifer called you who went to him with a cancerberus plush on your hand and a backpack with some toys.

"Im!" You declared showing off your things, and letting out a smile. You were now dressed in the best quality clothes Lucifer could afford, he had to take a moment to snap a pic of you (again).

"Let not keep them waiting then" Lucifer said taking you and supporting you on his hip, his wings out.

"ARE WE GOING TO FLY THERE?" You screamed making the house shake, your hyped self could not be contained.

"Yes, what better way to travel?" Lucifer joked. The first time you two took a fly together Lucifer was distracted and ended up dropping you. His reaction time was fast so he was able to catch you, already making promises to never fly again with you but your laught stopped him, turns out you loved to fly and loved the adrenaline from falling. Lucifer found it strange but decided not to question it.

He later went to the internet to look for more information.

Once you two took fly everything felt at peace (and you two were in hell...). Demons and sinners could see their King, no one dared to mess with him. Some ignored him, others bowed and some even waved at you.

From the Sky, the city seemed beautiful in its own type of way. The fire from fights and the buildings falling apart...big neon adverstiments...

If you were honest you liked hell.

Lucifer felt your self become sleepy making him smile. This would usually happen, something about flying with him relaxed you. Maybe being with the king of hell and on top of that flying around the city made you feel Powerfull and protected, enough to make you dizzy. Closing your eyes you let the feel of the wind caress your skin as Lucifer's wings moved towards the Hotel.

~☆~☆~☆~

Charlie was not nervous, not at all!!

That was a lie. Charlie was so stressed over his dad coming to the hotel and with you no less. When he had called her and asked to meet up she had said she had too much work (and it was true) then after listening to how he wanted her to meet you and how you have been asking about her.

Her heart could not take it so she accepted, saying she would make the hotel the safest place for you.

"Husk, put the alcohol away, OH! And be sure to remove any broken glass" Charlie exclaimed getting the most are you for real look from Husk.

Any sharp object had been locked down, weapons hided away and they even took extra care of things that could fall over you.

"Angel, try to...keep the sex jokes as...."

"As good as a good suck in a alley corner after some Drugs?" Angel asked getting an annoyed look from Vaggie. "Fine, I get it. Im not a monster you know" he responded offended going for a drink only to get some appel juice from Husk.

"Princess rules" he simple said.

Vaggie was behind Charlie as she went on checking everything. This was worse than one Lucifer had first come, this was Lucifer and you. The New kid, the new lil relative of Charlie.

"And- and did we get Alastor to go out?" Charlie asked Vaggie knowing how him and his dad were not at good terms.

"Well..."

"Now my dear, why would you want me away?" Alastor asked appearing besides her. "Its because your dad its coming today? Dont worry the hotel wont suffer any type of damage" he promised bowing "or maybe a bit"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

The sound of the door being opened alerted everyone. Charlie was sweating as she saw her dad entering with a small kid on his arms. Puffy sheep skin and cat hears and tail could be seen but their face was pressed against Lucifer's chest.

"Charlie!! Its so good to see you again" Lucifer exclaimed getting closer. "Sorry, (Y/N) felt asleep when coming here" he explained looking down with a lovely father gaze at the kid.

"Oh...thats...thats fine!! We have made everything kids safe for the time (Y/N) is here" Charlie responded still stressed, however now seeing you in the flesh and not only by photos her dad would send her, her heart softened at your sleepy form.

"Well, not everything..." Lucifer let out a groul seeing the Radio Demon who stood with his usual smile.

"Greetings your majesty, I never expected to be seeing you again so soon, maybe grow a few inches instead of getting kids from the streets on your free time"

"Hahaha, oh at least kids like me" Lucifer responded going towards Alastor.

"Hahaha only because you are their size"

"Hahaha, or because I dont have that broken record voice"

"Hahaha, fuck you"

The small beef between them was enough to wake you up, looking up you first saw Lucifer's face. A very angry look then the look of another Demon, a redish one that looked like a deer.

"...are these your ears or hair?" You asked half sleep getting everyones attention.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Oh ignore him, we are here to meet with by daugther!!" Lucifer quickly turned around making you face Charlie. He carefully let you down on the ground and saw how you went to her.

Charlie went to your eye level, her heart beating fast. "Hello! Im Charlie, and welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!!" She cringed at her introduction, laughts from Angel and Husk could be hear at the back.

"Im (Y/N)! Are you my older sister?" You asked moving your head to the side taking her appearence, no doubt she was Lucifer's child, she had a different aura, something cheerful and good, something your insticts told you to reach for.

Charlie's mouth went dry, her eyes having now tears as she remember the story her father told her about you, about how you ended in hell. How unfair it was and how Heaven would not listen.

"Y-yes Im" she responded trying to content her tears then almost getting knocked off when you hugged her. Your soft hair rubbing against her cheeck.

"I always wanted a sister"

Vaggie had to look away to keep her emotions in check. She undertood the malice from heaven and was thankul you had ended in Lucifer's way. Her heart broke a bit seeing your small form hugging her gilfriend.

Heaven its damed she tought to herself.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"And this is Angel Dust!" Charlie presented you the spider Demon who was looking down as he was thinking about someone else.

"Hello Kiddo" he ruffled your hair getting a laught from you.

"You have four arms?" You asked looking at Angel who showed them then picked you up

"You bet!! And do you know what form arms can do?"

Everyone was holding their breaths now.

"Lots of ticklets!!" He finally responded tickling you. Your laught and smile resonated in the hotel. Your cat hears moving from side to side as Angel tickled you with a small smile of his own.

~☆~☆~☆~

You pulled Angel around the hotel, telling different tales you have been reading from Lucifer's private collection. Angel just nodded at you, he took note of how your eyes would light up when you were talking about a favorite character or a special part of a story.

It melted his heart.

"I want juice" You suddendly said stopping and making Angel almost fall over you. Luckly he was able to catch his balance.

Juice? Angel thought then smirked looking at a very sober and pissed Husk.

"Here, this one makes the best drinks and im sure he has some juices for you" Angel said taking you towars Husk who was giving Angel a very do not dare look.

"Uhhh, he seems scary" you said softly looking at Husk while Angel seated you carefully.

"Scary? Pff he is just sober" Angel said getting a confused look from you.

"I mean-"

"What would you like kid?" Husk asked keeping his voice with no emotion. He had hear you said he looked scary and honestly, that was funny. By the fact that you had touched Alastor's hair and ears earlier and you got the radio Demon to almost break his cool.

Yeah not scared over the radio Demon but scared of him? You were something.

He passed you a juice with appels. You were quick to forget your fear as you sipped the drink looking at Husk. "I liken your wings"

Husk looked a bit suprised but soon relaxed giving you a easy smile.

"I like your horns...what are you?" He finally asked getting an annoyed look from Angel.

"Well...im not sure?" You responded now feeling shy.

"You are a sinner my Dear!" The voice of Alastor echoed as one of his shadows picked you up keeping you from touching his hair again.

"And who are you?" You asked back macking Alastor glitch, static forming around him but then going away.

"Im Alastor, the Radio Demon! I have a show, maybe you ever listen to it or you prefer these boxes..."

"You mean tvs?" Alastor nodded "I used to watch a bit during mornings but...my father hated when we did it he would scream at me and-" your voice broke making everyone look towards you Lucifer almost going for the Demon's neck.

"Oh you poor thing" Alastor said deep down (very deep) feeling bad. Memories of his own life coming to haunt him. "Then here!" He made a move and a old fashined radio appear "this radio hosts only my shows, and no one will be angry at you because you listen to it" He said smiling at you, his shadow still holding you and playing with your horns as Alastor watched Lucifer for a reaction.

"Uh...thank you Mister" You finally said getting a lick from the shadow itself.

"No problems Dear and if you ever need a New dad you know for who to look" He smirked at Lucifer.

"But Lucifer its my dad..." you responded, radio in your tiny hands "...could you be my uncle?" You asked innocently ignoring who you were talking to, one of the most powerfull Overlords in the circle.

Alastor moved his head his shadow getting you closer to him, he took a moment to examine your soul. So pure and so...so unlike him.

Alastor could be chained to someone, but right now the only one who could hold a leash on him was you.

"Of course Dear" he finally responded taking you from his shadow and to his arms.

"And can I play with your hair?"

"Hahaha, absolutly not"

Lucifer was being hold in the back by Charlie and Vaggie sending daggers to the Demon.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~