#so apparently it's a very common mistake to make

[deus-ex-mona]

s. s ave me, meoto…

[cilantroodon]

idk why everyone worries about the IRS hunting them down when these stupid motherfuckers take several days to respond to anything. hello?? I'm trying to give you my money? the thing you want?

[ckret2]

So a while ago some friends were talking about fans who claim the Same Coin theory is canon. And I made the mistake of saying:

Do you know who also has tons in common with Bill? Mabel. Yet nobody claims Bill reincarnated as Mabel. …wait now I want a "same coin but it's Mabel" AU. Funniest Bill reincarnation option. The all-seeing arsonist is making macaroni glitter art. The omnipotent tyrant is crying because a unicorn called her a bad person.

And then I overthought it for two months.

So—AU where after death, Bill's soul shoots 13 years into the past and reincarnates as Mabel. I'll call it ✨ Sparkly Coin AU ✨

Don't leave yet. Lemme show you why it works. Behold the eerie amount of parallels in their personalities, dialogue, behavior, mannerisms, tastes...

I could have kept going but my attention span ran out. All right, we all on board now? Convinced we could segue from one personality into the other? Great. Now here's why you should be interested: the juicy post-Weirdmageddon angst potential.

As long as a small fringe of the fandom still thinks Weirdmageddon is Mabel's fault, why not amp that up x100 and have some fun with it?

Is everyone sold now? Great. Let's get into the details. I've got 8 more pieces of art under the read more.

So the AU starts the instant Bill dies. Thanks to invoking his deal with the Axolotl—one way to absolve his crime, a different form, a different time—the Axolotl gives him a new shape and shoots him thirteen years into the past. Apparently, the Axolotl thought it would be very funny to stick Bill in the family that defeated him.

Which probably made for a jarring transition.

(It's fine, she's like 10 minutes old, she probably can't even tell who she's looking at. Not being able to tell who she was looking at is what got her into this situation ayyyy)

When Dipper & Mabel come back from Gravity Falls complaining about this triangular jerk Bill, their parents mention that Dipper's name was nearly Bill. See, after they knew they were going to have a boy, one night their mom dreamed about a visitor—some kind of magic pink salamander??—calling her child "BILL." Then at the next sonogram they found out they were having twins, the girl must've been hidden at a weird angle the first time, and they wanted matching names, so they thought, Bill and Bell. But they didn't really like Bell; but eventually they stumbled on Mabel, so to keep the names matching they switched from Bill to Mason. Isn't that the darnedest thing?

(Of course, Mabel and Dipper assume Bill harassed their parents to try to trick them into naming a kid after him. To be a jerk.)

When Bill meets Mabel, he's unaware that she's his future self—Bill's notably bad at doing things like, say, double-checking to see whether he's going to die anytime soon—but like... he can tell something's up.

Naturally, before visiting Gravity Falls, there were echoes of who Mabel used to be—but nothing anyone would be able to identify without context. All her Bill-ish quirks either smoothed out with time (see: how between second grade and fourth grade Mabel went from being the "freak" to the popular girl in class), or else they were accepted by her family as Mabel-ish quirks.

After they meet (and kill) Bill, they have the context to understand some of Mabel's behaviors... and unfortunately, some of Mabel's latent Bill-ness starts surfacing after she's been directly exposed to her prior incarnation.

The part of the Pines family familiar with Bill thinks the worst case scenario is that maybe Bill's survived and is slowly possessing Mabel; but far more likely, they think this is just some weird way of trying to subconsciously process last summer. Mabel doesn't think she's being weird, you guys are being weird, stop giving her weird looks. They get attacked by one triangle and now she can't wear yellow or pick up macrame as a hobby??

(It's not all red flags and uncomfortable triangle imagery, though. When Stan asks her what she'd like as a gift for some important event, she shyly admits that she thinks she's starting to outgrow her plastic gem jewelry and maybe she's old enough to get her first piece of real gold jewelry, if that's not too expensive? And Stan's never been so proud of her. Thirteen years old and already thinking about buying gold!)

But of course, the real fun starts when Mabel finds out.

That's the face of a girl who's just discovered that she tortured her great uncle. Now imagine running into the brother she possessed.

But I've already spent a million words and thirteen images on this post. If enough folks are interested in the AU maybe I'll expand on it later. Let me know what y'all think.

[luveline]

i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((

pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)

Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 

“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 

Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 

“She won’t sit down.” 

Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 

“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 

“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 

“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 

Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 

The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 

Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 

“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 

“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 

“So?” Hotch prods gently. 

Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 

“The hates you one?” he offers. 

“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 

“Just hormones, Spence.” 

Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 

“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 

“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.

Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 

“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 

“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 

“Just the essentials.” 

Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 

“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 

Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 

“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 

“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 

“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 

“That works?” 

“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 

“I guess I worry too much.” 

“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 

They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 

Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 

He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 

“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 

“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 

He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 

You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 

“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 

Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 

[anghraine]

It's interesting (if often frustrating) to see the renewed Orc Discourse after the last few episodes of ROP. I've seen arguments that orcs have to be personifications of evil rather than people as such or else the ethics of our heroes' approach to them becomes much more fraught. Tolkien's work, as written, seems an odd choice to me for not wrangling with difficult questions, and of course, more diehard fans are going to immediately bring up Shagrat and Gorbag.

If you haven't read LOTR recently, Shagrat and Gorbag are two orcs who briefly have a conversation about how they're being screwed over by Sauron but have no other real options, about their opinions of mistakes that have been made, that they think Sauron himself has made one, but it's not safe to discuss because Sauron has spies in their own ranks. They reminisce about better times when they had more freedom and fantasize about a future when they can go elsewhere and set up a small-scale banditry operation rather than being involved in this huge-scale war. Eventually, however, they end up turning on each other.

Basically any time that someone brings up the "humanity" of this conversation, someone else will point out that they're still bad people. They're not at all guilty about what they're part of. They just resent the dangers to themselves, the pressure from above, failures of competence, the surveillance they're under, and their lack of realistic alternative options. The dream of another life mentioned in the conversation is still one of preying on innocent people, just on a much smaller and more immediate scale, etc.

I think this misses the reason it keeps getting brought up, though. The point is not that Shagrat and Gorbag are good people. The point is that they are people.

There's something very normal and recognizable about their resentment of their superiors, their fears of reprisal and betrayal that ultimately are realized, their dislike of this kind of industrial war machine that erases their individual work and contributions, the tinge of wistfulness in their hope of escape into a different kind of life. Their dialect is deliberately "common"—and there's a lot more to say about that and the fact that it's another commoner, Sam, who outwits them—but one of the main effects is to make them sound familiar and ordinary. And it's interesting that one of the points they specifically raise is that they're not going to get better treatment from "the good guys" so they can't defect, either.

This is self-interested, yes, but it's not the self-interest of some mystical being or spirit or whatnot, but of people.

Tolkien's later remarks tend to back this up. He said that female orcs do exist, but are rarely seen in the story because the characters only interact with the all-male warrior class of orcs. Whatever female orcs "do," it isn't going to war. Maybe they do a lot of the agricultural work that is apparently happening in distant parts of Mordor, maybe they are chiefly responsible for young orcs, maybe both and/or something else, we don't know. But we know they're out there and we know that they reproduce sexually and we know that they're not part of the orcish warrior class.

Regardless of all the problems with this, the idea that orcs have a gender-restricted warrior class at all and we're just not seeing any of their other classes because of where the story is set doesn't sound like automatons of evil. It sounds like an actual culture of people that we only see along the fringes.

And this whole matter of "but if they're people, we have to think about ethics, so they can't be people" is a weird circular argument that cannot account for what's in LOTR or for much of what Tolkien said afterwards. Yes, he struggled with The Problem of Orcs and how to reconcile it with his world building and his ethical system, but "maybe they're not people" is ultimately not a workable solution as far as LOTR goes and can't even account for much of the later evolution of his ideas, including explicit statements in his letters.

And in the end, the real response that comes to mind to that circular argument is "maybe you should think about ethics more."

[seichira]

is it just me?

itoshi rin is tormented by the lingering ghosts of your tragic breakup. he is cold and he lives with the burden of missing you. he wonders if you are hurting too, or is it just him?

pairing : itoshi rin x reader

content : hurt and comfort. exes to lovers. messy breakup. accusations of cheating (no actual cheating). insecurities. mentions of alcohol. cursing.

it’s one in the morning and rin is surrounded by his friends and acquaintances but still, he feels cold. even with the alcohol in his system that he drank to purposely warm him, it’s cold.

it has been this way for nearly a year now. eleven months and a couple weeks, if anyone is counting. a few days more and it would be the anniversary of your breakup.

the nearer it gets to twelve months without you, the colder it gets. right now, even with the perfectly working heater in one of his teammate’s penthouse, rin shivers.

it’s cold.

he never thought it could be this cold.

rin knows why he feels like this. he knows exactly why he wakes up and goes to bed alone. the reason why his life is dull and empty is not a secret to him—he just won’t acknowledge it.

he refuses to admit to himself that the reason why he has been suffering for the past eleven months of his life is because you’re not here.

how could he admit it? how could he ever address that your absence it what causes his pitiful state, when he brought it upon himself.

it was his fault that you’re not here. he wanted this. well, he had thought that he wanted this.

there is no way he could welcome the thought that he misses you when he was the one who drove you away, right? there is no use.

it’s too late now. all he could do is go out with his teammates on nights like this and pretend as if he wasn’t freezing from the inside out.

“damn, this is so boring,” seishiro sits down beside him on the sofa and rin tenses at the presence of the white-haired boy.

he does not know what to do because among everyone else in this crowded room, you are most connected to nagi seishiro. your best friend. and he has long been your best friend before you and rin even got together.

how is rin supposed to act around the person who is still in your life while he himself isn’t? this man seated next to him knows where you are right now and what you have been doing, while rin has absolutely no idea how you are.

“didn’t think i’d see you here, itoshi,” nagi speaks again. rin hums in acknowledgment, “thought it wouldn’t be so bad to come.”

there is this unspoken understanding between them, that both of them are thinking about you. after all, aside from soccer, all they have in common is their connection to you.

nagi debates whether he should tell you that he saw rin tonight or keep it to himself so as to not instigate negative feelings from you.

rin wonders if he should start asking about you. he decides against it and pretended to busy himself with his cellphone to avoid further conversation with your best friend.

he convinces himself that he does not care. he acts like he doesn’t want to know how you are. he tries to make himself believe that as long as he can fake it, it will somehow be true.

jokes on him, really.

meguru approaches nagi next to him and rin is planning to ignore him like he usually does, but the words that comes out of meguru’s mouth made that utterly impossible.

“nagi! i saw y/n by the bookstore earlier this afternoon, didn’t you ask her to come? i invited her but she said you didn’t mention anythin’ about a party!”

the mere mention of your name makes rin’s heart stop. it has been a very long time since he heard someone mention your name casually around him. now that your name has been dropped, everything comes crashing down on him, and he cannot breathe.

“oh, damn, i’m sorry—“ bachira seems to notice his mistake upon not seeing rin next to nagi. they know not to carelessly throw your name around because at first, it affected his performance. now, it is apparent that you affect him in and out of the game.

“excuse me.”

rin is cold. it’s like ice is running through his veins as he stands up and rushes to leave the suffocating penthouse.

rin runs out to the street and for the first time since he lost you, he names the sinking feeling in his stomach that won’t go away.

for the first time since you walked out the door of your shared apartment, rin finally admits it.

he misses you.

he is longing for you like how the moon misses the sun but never meets it enough. it burns and it is freezing all at the same time because when you were here, he felt nothing but the assurance of your love.

he runs, and runs, and runs. it’s dark and it’s cold, but he runs. he runs in hopes that he could change the past. he runs with the burning desire to correct his faults and take back all the hurt he inflicted on you.

maybe then, you’d be here.

maybe then, it wouldn’t be so cold.

“are you seriously accusing me of that, rin? are you hearing yourself right now?” the hurt was evident in your tone as you watched the love of your life with all of his guards up.

his glares were accusing as if what he saw was an unforgivable betrayal. he had seen you talking to his brother, sae, and rin was quick to act out of pure rage and jealousy.

“you were flirting with my fucking brother!” he spat out, and he knew it was irrational.

he knew he was wrong about and that you would never be able to do that to him, but his years of pent up frustration and hatred towards his brother made it impossible to remember his trust in you.

“and i already told you i wasn’t, rin. i was talking to him. i bumped into him at the coffee shop while i was getting your usual morning drink when he saw me and i sat down for a little chat! that was all, baby. believe me.”

you deserved an award with how well you held up, with how patient you were with him despite his hurtful accusations towards you.

no one else understood him like you did, and you knew to be more patient with him in times like these. you were aware of how his brother affected him and how he just needed someone to stick with him through it.

“well, fuck that! you shouldn’t have been with him in the first place! sae wants everything that i have and now, he’s tryna get you too!”

it almost made you flinch, with his tone rising and his voice getting louder. he is furious, and you try to disregard the sting of his words now that his fury is directed at you.

“i’m sorry, alright? it wasn’t my intention to hurt you, rin. he’s your brother and i thought it would be nice to ask him how he is and—“

rin cut you off like he couldn’t comprehend a word that you were saying. “that’s bullshit and you know it! just fuckin’ tell me the truth! that like everyone and everything else, you’re gonna leave me for him!”

it frustrated you that he blocked all your explanations out. you were growing weary with the accusations thrown at you, but you continued. you continued to reason with him because you knew him. you knew he needed someone to stay. and above all, you tried further because you were in love with him.

you loved rin three years before you finally got together. your two years together made that five. that was five years of your life being deeply in love with someone whom you thought was going to be your husband and the father of your kids.

that amount of time may not be much when viewed through the generations of people who loved each other, but for the both of you, those five years were enough to build a life and create an ideal future with the other.

so, yeah. it never occurred to you to give up in that argument. there was no chance in hell that you would leave him high and dry.

“it’s not like that, rin. i am never going to leave you for anyone, much less for your brother! i need you to listen to me! we talked! that’s it!”

“you’re lying to me. i know it.”

you shake your head in exhaustion. “i talk, and i talk, and i talk—and you don’t hear a thing.” a lone tear falls from your eye without realizing.

his sharp stare does not falter. all he could see was red. the scene of you and sae together replayed over and over again in his mind.

you, the person he loved most, with the person who took everything away from him. it killed him to imagine a future where it is not you and him, but you and sae.

“i’m in love with you. only you. i cannot see myself with anyone else and i thought you knew that, rin. i get that your brother strikes a vein in you but don’t i at least deserve to be heard? we’re better than this.”

“yeah? and i thought you’d be better than acquainting with sae like that. you knew how i felt about him, and you did this? fuck that.”

rin walked out on you that night without another word. it felt like he also walked out on your relationship because he started training more. this meant leaving before you even woke up and going home when you were fast asleep.

during those weeks when rin avoided you like the plague despite living under one roof, you felt completely alone and isolated. you were lonely. he spoke to you in words, and he treated you as if your encounter with sae was enough for him to give it all up.

until one day, he comes home to a living room full of bags and boxes. you were there, waiting for him with a tired smile on your face.

for the first time, rin realized that the black circles under your eyes have grown where they weren’t before. he noticed that you are all cried out and now, you’ve got no tears to shed as you leave him.

“w-what’s all this?”

“i’m leaving. i’m sorry for not getting out of your hair faster. it was really hard to look for another apartment that was within my budget but don’t worry, i figured it out.”

“leaving? leaving me? leaving… this house?” which one is it? or fuck, is it both?

“mhm. i f-figured it’s not healthy for us to live under the same roof after everything. i wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own space just because i’m here, so…”

did you really think he wanted you to leave? he wanted to explain. he wanted to tell you that he only acted that way because he was hurt and he was guilty! you don’t have to leave!

but he’s frozen from where he stood. the sight of all your stuff packed up and ready to go was a little bit too much for him.

you stood from where you were seated among the bags and boxes, and you stop in front of him. again, you smile gracefully, in contrast to the breaking heart that almost killed you.

“and rin? i’m sorry again for what happened with sae. i should’ve known better than to do that to you, and i understand that you don’t want to do anything with me because of that.”

he shook his head but you missed it because you walked past him with some of your bags in your hand. “y/n, no. i—“

you hear it and for a moment, you delude yourself into thinking that he will ask you to stay. but he doesn’t continue.

he stops because how could he ask you to stay after how he treated you? it was his fault for not listening and in the end, it was you who apologized? in what fucking universe do i deserve this angel, huh?

he doesn’t stop you from leaving because in that very moment, the thought of you finally escaping from him and his hurtful treatment towards you didn’t seem so bad.

“so, i guess… i’ll see you around. nagi will be around to grab my remaining stuff, so try not to kill each other, yeah?” you try to play it off cool, mask the fact that inside, everything is falling apart.

rin nods but he stayed with his back facing you. until the end, he did not have the guts to face you. to face what he had done to you and your relationship.

suddenly, everything grew cold. everything lost their color. the empty corners of where your warmth used to be mocked him.

for nearly a year since then, he has lived and suffered with the mistakes he did. he didn’t know what to tell people when they started asking about you. he didn’t know how to ride the train without holding your hand. he didn’t know how to be soaked in the shower without letting his tears flow freely.

he wondered endlessly as he daydreamed of speaking to you again: are you hurting too, or is it just me?

his endless running brings him to your street where you moved when you left him. his feet takes him farther than he expected because this street is on the opposite part of town from your shared apartment, a telltale sign that you tried to get as far away as possible.

evidently, it is not far enough because on your way home from the convenience store, you run into your ex-boyfriend. rin is first to notice your presence, and instead of freezing up like he did when you left, he walks up to you.

“rin?” you are confused and nervous. after all, the last time you had seen him was almost a year ago. you never tried to see him again.

“it hurts.”

the two words he just confessed are two words that he has never said together in a sentence ever in his life. itoshi rin never admits it when something is hurting him. he never tells anyone when he is in pain.

for him to say that now, it is a cry for you to soothe him in a way that only you could, and you know this because you know him better than the back of your hand.

standing a meter away from you underneath a street lamp, itoshi rin confesses his truth.

“it hurts, y/n. it hurts without you. it feels like i can’t breathe. it is so cold without you. it hurts so badly. i thought i could live with it eventually—but i can’t. it only gets worse.”

rin sees your shoulders shake in your attempt to conceal your sobs but you are failing miserably, and so does he. you don’t say anything and rin figures that’s fair.

you already tried to talk. you already told him everything you needed to hear on the night of the fight that ruined your relationship. it’s his turn to tell you everything you deserve to hear.

but he isn’t as good as you when it comes to words. he thinks about how he accused you of cheating on him. he thinks about how he shut you out and left you feeling lonely. he thinks about every day that he could have chased after you but didn’t. he thinks about all of that and he thinks about how he’s sorry.

and he manages to get that last part out, hoping that you would get it. hoping that the deep-rooted connection between the two of you is enough to let you know what he means.

“i’m sorry.”

you drop your groceries to the ground and you close the meter of distance between the two of you. you welcome him in his arms but he wraps his arms around you tighter than you welcomed him, because he is afraid that if he doesn’t, he will lose you again.

“that is all i needed to hear from you, rin. i never wanted much from you. just you and your love. i just needed to know that you still felt that for me, and when i didn’t… i had no other choice to walk away.”

rin nods against your neck and you feel his tears staining your shoulder. “i’m sorry. forgive me, please. i love you. i love you. and i trust you. more than anyone, baby. i promise.”

“you know i could never hurt you like you thought i did—“ you recalled, but rin cuts you off because he can’t bear another second of you defending yourself when you shouldn’t be.

“i know. i know.”

his embrace around you tightens, and he does not care if anyone could look out from their windows and see the soccer star practically begging for you in the middle of the night. not when he is in your arms again after months of only dreaming about it and wishing for it.

“it hurt too much without you too, rin. i had to remind myself that i can’t run to you for warmth. i took everything in me not to throw away my dignity to beg you to bring me back.”

that answers his question.

in his absence, you were hurting too. your separation killed you just like how it killed him.

“no. no—don’t have to beg for it, baby. i should be on my knees to thank you for even taking me back like this because—shit—i swear that i wouldn’t have lasted another day.”

you run your hands through his hair before briefly pulling away to cup his cheek in your hands, and he fondly leans on your touch.

“for the entire year, i thought it was just me who longed for you, rin.”

you couldn’t be any more wrong.

“i begged the stars and the skies for this very moment. it wasn’t just you.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

AI’s “human in the loop” isn’t

I'll be in TUCSON, AZ from November 8-10: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

AI's ability to make – or assist with – important decisions is fraught: on the one hand, AI can often classify things very well, at a speed and scale that outstrips the ability of any reasonably resourced group of humans. On the other hand, AI is sometimes very wrong, in ways that can be terribly harmful.

Bureaucracies and the AI pitchmen who hope to sell them algorithms are very excited about the cost-savings they could realize if algorithms could be turned loose on thorny, labor-intensive processes. Some of these are relatively low-stakes and make for an easy call: Brewster Kahle recently told me about the Internet Archive's project to scan a ton of journals on microfiche they bought as a library discard. It's pretty easy to have a high-res scanner auto-detect the positions of each page on the fiche and to run the text through OCR, but a human would still need to go through all those pages, marking the first and last page of each journal and identifying the table of contents and indexing it to the scanned pages. This is something AI apparently does very well, and instead of scrolling through endless pages, the Archive's human operator now just checks whether the first/last/index pages the AI identified are the right ones. A project that could have taken years is being tackled with never-seen swiftness.

The operator checking those fiche indices is something AI people like to call a "human in the loop" – a human operator who assesses each judgment made by the AI and overrides it should the AI have made a mistake. "Humans in the loop" present a tantalizing solution to algorithmic misfires, bias, and unexpected errors, and so "we'll put a human in the loop" is the cure-all response to any objection to putting an imperfect AI in charge of a high-stakes application.

But it's not just AIs that are imperfect. Humans are wildly imperfect, and one thing they turn out to be very bad at is supervising AIs. In a 2022 paper for Computer Law & Security Review, the mathematician and public policy expert Ben Green investigates the empirical limits on human oversight of algorithms:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3921216

Green situates public sector algorithms as the latest salvo in an age-old battle in public enforcement. Bureaucracies have two conflicting, irreconcilable imperatives: on the one hand, they want to be fair, and treat everyone the same. On the other hand, they want to exercise discretion, and take account of individual circumstances when administering justice. There's no way to do both of these things at the same time, obviously.

But algorithmic decision tools, overseen by humans, seem to hold out the possibility of doing the impossible and having both objective fairness and subjective discretion. Because it is grounded in computable mathematics, an algorithm is said to be "objective": given two equivalent reports of a parent who may be neglectful, the algorithm will make the same recommendation as to whether to take their children away. But because those recommendations are then reviewed by a human in the loop, there's a chance to take account of special circumstances that the algorithm missed. Finally, a cake that can be both had, and eaten!

For the paper, Green reviewed a long list of policies – local, national, and supra-national – for putting humans in the loop and found several common ways of mandating human oversight of AI.

First, policies specify that algorithms must have human oversight. Many jurisdictions set out long lists of decisions that must be reviewed by human beings, banning "fire and forget" systems that chug along in the background, blithely making consequential decisions without anyone ever reviewing them.

Second, policies specify that humans can exercise discretion when they override the AI. They aren't just there to catch instances in which the AI misinterprets a rule, but rather to apply human judgment to the rules' applications.

Next, policies require human oversight to be "meaningful" – to be more than a rubber stamp. For high-stakes decisions, a human has to do a thorough review of the AI's inputs and output before greenlighting it.

Finally, policies specify that humans can override the AI. This is key: we've all encountered instances in which "computer says no" and the hapless person operating the computer just shrugs their shoulders apologetically. Nothing I can do, sorry!

All of this sounds good, but unfortunately, it doesn't work. The question of how humans in the loop actually behave has been thoroughly studied, published in peer-reviewed, reputable journals, and replicated by other researchers. The measures for using humans to prevent algorithmic harms represent theories, and those theories are testable, and they have been tested, and they are wrong.

For example, people (including experts) are highly susceptible to "automation bias." They defer to automated systems, even when those systems produce outputs that conflict with their own expert experience and knowledge. A study of London cops found that they "overwhelmingly overestimated the credibility" of facial recognition and assessed its accuracy at 300% better than its actual performance.

Experts who are put in charge of overseeing an automated system get out of practice, because they no longer engage in the routine steps that lead up to the conclusion. Presented with conclusions, rather than problems to solve, experts lose the facility and familiarity with how all the factors that need to be weighed to produce a conclusion fit together. Far from being the easiest step of coming to a decision, reviewing the final step of that decision without doing the underlying work can be much harder to do reliably.

Worse: when algorithms are made "transparent" by presenting their chain of reasoning to expert reviewers, those reviewers become more deferential to the algorithm's conclusion, not less – after all, now the expert has to review not just one final conclusion, but several sub-conclusions.

Even worse: when humans do exercise discretion to override an algorithm, it's often to inject the very bias that the algorithm is there to prevent. Sure, the algorithm might give the same recommendation about two similar parents who are facing having their children taken away, but the judge who reviews the recommendations is more likely to override it for a white parent than for a Black one.

Humans in the loop experience "a diminished sense of control, responsibility, and moral agency." That means that they feel less able to override an algorithm – and they feel less morally culpable when they sit by and let the algorithm do its thing.

All of these effects are persistent even when people know about them, are trained to avoid them, and are given explicit instructions to do so. Remember, the whole reason to introduce AI is because of human imperfection. Designing an AI to correct human imperfection that only works when its human overseer is perfect produces predictably bad outcomes.

As Green writes, putting an AI in charge of a high-stakes decision, and using humans in the loop to prevent its harms, produces a "perverse effect": "alleviating scrutiny of government algorithms without actually addressing the underlying concerns." The human in the loop creates "a false sense of security" that sees algorithms deployed for high-stakes domains, and it shifts the responsibility for algorithmic failures to the human, creating what Dan Davies calls an "accountability sink":

https://profilebooks.com/work/the-unaccountability-machine/

The human in the loop is a false promise, a "salve that enables governments to obtain the benefits of algorithms without incurring the associated harms."

So why are we still talking about how AI is going to replace government and corporate bureaucracies, making decisions at machine speed, overseen by humans in the loop?

Well, what if the accountability sink is a feature and not a bug. What if governments, under enormous pressure to cut costs, figure out how to also cut corners, at the expense of people with very little social capital, and blame it all on human operators? The operators become, in the phrase of Madeleine Clare Elish, "moral crumple zones":

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

As Green writes:

The emphasis on human oversight as a protective mechanism allows governments and vendors to have it both ways: they can promote an algorithm by proclaiming how its capabilities exceed those of humans, while simultaneously defending the algorithm and those responsible for it from scrutiny by pointing to the security (supposedly) provided by human oversight.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

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/2024/10/30/a-neck-in-a-noose/#is-also-a-human-in-the-loop

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en ==

[chigirizzz]

first kiss

characters: isagi, bachira, sae

gn! reader, not proofread so there might be some mistakes, anxiety attack (bachira's)

— ISAGI YOICHI

"stop," you told isagi when he approaches you in front of the school.

his smile disappears and he stops beside you, his body turned towards you. you continued to stare straight ahead, focused on the rain that showed no sign of letting up. "huh? what did i do?"

“you’re sick. stay away from me." your behavior didn't change, in fact, you were quite afraid that you were too rude or anything, but any remorse vanished when you heard your boyfriend's laugh. "why are you laughing?!"

"you're funny."

"and you're sick. stay away at least four meters. you know i get sick easily."

"i'll take care of you if that happens."

surprise took over you at his words; isagi yoichi always has been and always will be a pretty awkward guy—something that you didn't mind and in some occasions you found it cute—, which meant he wasn't the best at words, whether he was the one saying them or receiving them. he was more of actions and thoughts, not words.

there were times, however, when isagi yoichi pulled a special card and made your heart feel warm with simple actions or sentences and with absolutely no shyness.

this was one of those times. and as you stare—no, admire him with stars and hearts in your eyes, you feel guilty with how you kept a distance that school day just because he was sick, thinking that he wouldn't be offended. not exactly offended, but he wasn't happy either.

"yoichi…" you said. "i'm sorry. why are you such a good partner…"

he smiled and gave your head a few pats. "you're so silly."

"if i do get sick, make me a chicken soup."

it was an innocent joke, so you didn't expect him to suddenly kiss you. lips on lips for the first time, a moment that you never thought it would be like that. you responded to the kiss. it was a bit awkward since it was both of your first kisses, but it felt good.

afraid that he needed to stop to breathe some air (due to his stuffy nose), you tried to step away, with no vail because his hand landed on your lower back and pulled you closer to him gently, his lips now more hungry for yours.

he just pulled away when your hand touched his cheek—even if it was a gentle touch, the temperature difference between your warm hand and his cold cheek gave him a little thermal shock.

"now you'll get sick for sure," he says with a smile and pink cheeks.

"idiot. i love you."

— BACHIRA MEGURU

your legs started running to the boys' restroom as soon as you finished reading the message on your phone; your head filled with worry for your friend who was apparently hiding in one of the stalls having an anxiety attack.

these moments of his fragility were relatively common for you. bachira meguru had you as his best and only friend, so it was normal to notice when his insecurities and his loneliness got the best of him — and the times he got into unnecessary fights.

these were moments you were used to, but they still worried you a lot.

the restroom was quiet and empty, only one of the stalls had its door closed so you figured it was your best friend.

you knocked on the stall door. "bachira? are you here?"

...

"bachi-"

"come in."

you entered the stall as soon as he opened the door. the space was cramped and not very hygienic, which made the boy more suffocated, anxious, but he knew that your presence, although it contributed to a more enclosed space, made him feel safe.

"it's okay, bachira. i'm here, you're safe," you reassured him, your thumb caressing his hand, kneeling in front of him while he sat on the floor with his back against the wall.

"they made fun of me again." his hand now held yours, squeezing it from time to time. a bitter smile took over his lips. "i feel so alone..."

"you're not alone, bachira, you have me and your mother. the others are stupid people who aren't worth it," you said. "remember the exercise we've already done. let's start—five things you can see."

“eh…” he looked around; there wasn’t much inside a school bathroom but you could make it work. “my shoes.”

“and what are your shoes like? analyze them," you told him with a soft tone of voice to help him calm down.

minutes passed. you didn't know how long you and bachira stayed in the restroom but the absence of noise from other students confirmed that you were currently skipping a period. who cares.

you helped the boy with the exercise, occasionally having to imagine objects for him to detect because again, there wasn't much inside a school bathroom…

he was slowly feeling better, and you knew this for sure because when you asked him for the second thing he could smell, he answered piss.

"it's true though~," he teased you and his nose sniffed. his eyes were getting less red.

"yeah but i don't want to think about urine right now, meg." a sight escaped your lips; nevertheless, his answer didn't actually bother you, you enjoyed his jokes even if sometimes made you question his sanity. "let's just move on."

"ok~ what's next?"

"one thing you can taste."

"watch me lick the toilet!"

"no!" you flicked his forehead to which he just giggled. "there must be something in here you can try. let me check my backpack."

"no need, y/n."

you faced him confused, hands inside your backpack trying to find a snack. "why not? we're almost done—"

you felt a pair of hands grabbing your shoulders and being pulled forward—face to face to bachira, to be precise.

"because i think i know what i want to taste. it's in front of me right now." his low voice and vibrant yellow colored eyes made you at a loss for words. he was so close to you, closer than he has already been, that you could feel your skin tingle, legs slightly weak and your chest moving up and down slowly. what… "do i have the permission to kiss you, y/n?" he asked, thumb brushing your lower lip.

"i…" oh god. "yeah." you nodded.

and so he did.

despite his confession and gaze being gentle, the kiss was the complete opposite. his lips literally crushed into yours, the sudden force of his body making your back slamming into the stall door—and his reaction? he smirked.

you weren't sure if it was his first kiss, but since he never told you about his romantic life, you assumed it was. in fact, something tells you that the boy practiced his kissing skills on a mirror to try on you later on.

it was also your first kiss, so you couldn't judge.

your hand is now between the back of his neck and the back of his head, lightly pulling and playing with his hair.

everything was going well, so well it took you a few seconds to notice the hot tears falling down his cheeks.

"meguru, what's wrong?" your hand caressed his cheek. "are you ok? is something wrong?"

"i love you. i love you so much," he cries and rests his head on top of your chest. "thank you for being there for me."

"awn, i love you too." you played with his hair gently, fingers fixing the knots on his hair. "and i'll always be there to protect you."

"promise?"

"promise."

— ITOSHI SAE

itoshi sae wasn't the easiest person to put up with, which is why you were extremely confused when he first confessed to you and asked you on a date like it was nothing. still, in your five months of dating, you didn't regret anything. you loved him, he loved you.

however, there was something bothering you: you never kissed each other. but calm down, the issue wasn't exactly "he never kissed me"— the issue was that itoshi sae once told you he wanted your first kiss as a couple to be magnificent, magical and capable of leaving everyone's jaws on the floor. 

it made you wonder for weeks how the kiss would be. it made you wonder so much for so long you eventually thought he forgot about it.

boy were you wrong.

sae didn't lie when he said he wanted it to be magical and leave everyone's jaw on the floor. 

it happened at the end of one of his games, he scored the final goal and as soon the end of the match was announced, he ran towards you—you who were watching the whole time wearing his jersey, shouting his name—and kissed you slowly but passionately in front of everyone—his team, the opposite team, the fans, the cameras, everyone.

although your boyfriend always preferred a private relationship, he also wanted to show the world how much he could love someone. there was a bit of possessiveness on him.

there was a bit of possessiveness on him, as his lips left yours so they could kiss your neck, not caring how much it tickled you. 

he then kissed your cheek and left without saying anything; there wasn't anything to be said, but the media for sure will say a lot of things.

[mesetacadre]

One mistake that is very common for communists to make (both online and offline, though it's more annoying online) when talking about and participating in trade unions is forgetting both your and the union's place in class struggle.

A trade union is by its very nature a reformist entity that fights partial struggles at best and reinforces the state's management of capitalism at worst. The purpose of any trade union is to represent a group of workers at the a company or sector at the same level of the capitalists who run it to achieve better conditions for the workforce. Two crucial aspects of this are (1) that it simply puts the workers at the same level of capitalists to negotiate, it does not question the very role of the capitalist in the wider economy, and (2) its ultimate goal is always to reform the contract that defines the relationship between the worker and the capitalist, not to remove it altogether. It does not matter the amount or length of strikes the union might organize, or how much they embolden workers to act in their (supposed) interest. Every fight organized by a union is, by definition, reformist. The only situations in which unions seize to have this character are in either a dictatorship of the proletariat, and like any other element of the superstructure it's put to work in the interests of the working class, or a situation with a strong communist party pre-revolution that has been able to influence the union in such a way that it becomes internally aligned with the interests of the vanguard.

Does this mean that unions are worthless and that we should ignore them because they don't immediately acquire rifles and take over human resources? No. What we should do is avoid creating false illusions or misplacing importance on these fights

An organized (that is, in a communist party) communist's role is to elevate the working masses to a revolutionary conscience, so that the party can have the sufficient amount of people, and organizational capability, to exploit the crises of capitalism to their favor. And this never changes, no matter the context of your intervention. When you go to a protest, you are a communist in that protest, not just another protestor. When you do work in a union, you are a communist in a union, not a unionist. This means that your work and your interactions with other workers should always be done as a communist. You may be an active member of a union, in fact that's the main way for organized communists to act in a workplace, if their party does not have the sufficient strength to act on its own. But you're a communist first, a communist who understands the utility of unions to create the seed of revolutionary-political conscience in workers.

And a misunderstanding of any of these two concepts usually manifests in what I see some communists do, which is taking the reformist slogans of trade unions ("fight for a just wage", "united we bargain", or just an oversimplified "join a union!", for example) and parroting them without much apparent thought. Trade unionism and socialdemocracy go hand in hand, these two currents hinge on the idea of promising workers a bigger slice of the national wealth. But the difference between these two, and part of the reason why many more communists are less critical towards unions I think, is that unions take the position of workers, the "underdog", while socialdemocracy deals directly with putting reforms in place. But ultimately they both misdirect the spontaneous conscience workers acquire by the everyday class antagonism towards policies that reinforce capitalism and the system of wage labor through which workers are exploited in the first place.

[poppadom0912]

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.

[akutasoda]

| | "drink my love, keep my blood"

╰ ➜ includes - dracula!argenti

⇢warnings - gn!reader, fluff, kind of angst?, implied to be set in 1890-93, maybe ooc?, small mentions of food/wine, mention of blood, wc - 3.7k

taglist - @mitsvriii, @tragedy-of-commons, @tetrachrxmacy, @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

a/n: my chosen prompt was "dracula"! hehe here's my entry for the stellaronhvnters event <3 had so much fun writing this :) got very carried away...

this was a mistake.

you should've listened to your rationality, now it was too late, now you were stuck dredging through a forest in a storm. the rain was relentless, piercing through the thin layers of clothing you hastily threw on prior to departure. the tiny droplets fell in clumps that felt like tiny blades clawing into you. chills racked through your body - you could even feel the oncoming cold that would haunt your body for ages afterwards, if you even made it back.

when you left, the clouds hung low in the sky and were a warning in themselves for what was forecasted for later. you ignored them however, thinking you could run a final errand before the storm. a grave miscalculation. the dreary clouds blocked out any possible light that could seep through and illuminate your path. not that any light would have been seen, it was most likely night by this time. you didn't have an exact idea but it felt like you'd been out for ages and were confident that the sun had set.

unwanted confidence was held in the idea that the storm was not due to pass anytime soon. the barrage of rain seemed to only worsen by the very minute. your feet were aching, your clothes clung to your frame in a feeble attempt to keep you warm but it only served to bring the moisture closer to your very core, and your eyes drooped low in fatigue - the bag you carried only served to tire you out more but you didn't dare lose it.

the hopeful part of yourself was dying, falling away as quick as the rain fell from the sky. dragging yourself steadily through mud and foliage, you cursed your previous self for deciding to take such a risk. your vision was limited, but a deep rooted part of yourself knew that you were lost. never before had you dared venture this far into the forest bordering your home. you tried turning around and heading back the way you assumed was where you had come from, but that seemed to be a hopeless, last ditch effort thought. now it was getting harder to think straight, the fatigue was overwhelming and the storm filled your vision making everything look the same,

you were convinced this was it. the chances of you surviving the night in such conditions were slim.

very faintly, footfall could be made out in the distance. walking most likely based on the periodic steps. you assumed it was an animal, some poor critter that had been caught up within the storm but you thought that the animal would be moving with more urgency - to shelter from the storm, something you wished you could do about now. now the footsteps were getting closer, heavier, and then it occurred to you. was it a human?

nobody was insane enough to trudge through a forest in a storm. nobody that didn't have good intentions. all of a sudden, the downpour was no longer your biggest concern. it was the potential threat of someone else in the forest with you. with visibility low, movement limited, and fatigue wearing down your limbs, if that person had bad intentions you wouldn't be able to do anything. you couldn't even muster the strength to run and hide. you stared down the direction of the approaching figure and with every step they took, it became more apparent it was in fact a person.

features were blurry. the only thing you could make out was a cloak, one that draped over their face and covered their body entirely. panic was setting in, but you couldn't do anything. the figure seemed to move quicker and with more emergency as they got close - they were definitely heading towards you, intentions still blurry. a part of you was hopeful, maybe they had been sent out to find you, to take you back and save you from the storm. but doubt was more powerful. overshadowing your hope and dreading the worst.

however, all your concerns were rendered useless as the stranger reached out a hand once in your vicinity -

“take my hand, i can lead you to safety, you just have to trust me”

their voice was soothing, a deep rich tone that radiated something akin to high status, but it sounded honeyed, as if they were genuinely concerned for your safety - and you weren't exactly in a position to be picky. either this stranger did as promised and lead you to safety, or put you out of your misery. either way you were out of the storm. so you took their hand.

it was just as warm as their voice. suddenly you became subconscious about the dampness that clung to your skin, but the stranger didn't seem to mind. you allowed your hope to build back up again. they moved fast, like they had the entire forest mapped out in their mind and you tried to keep up with them, stumbling and tripping over your own feet in the process.

a part of you was concerned that you couldn't see where the stranger was leading you. likelihood would be that to get home you'd need their help to get home, otherwise you probably would only get lost in the forest again.

it wasn't too long before that changed. through the barrage of rain, you looked up at the castle ahead. it was a stunning building from what little you could make out - did this stranger really live here?

the answer was soon revealed as they quickly unlocked the two grand wooden doors, heaving one open with a strength you could only wish to have. they hurried you inside before following suit and pushing the door closed yet again. sealing you inside the castle with them.

the inside was no less cold than the outside. atleast it was dry. it was dark inside, occasional candles were scattered around the walls and on a rather ornate chandelier hung up high. your vision adjusted rather quickly to the dim surroundings and soon you were distracted by stunning architecture of the supposedly glum castle.

from what you could make out, velvet golds paired with silvers and golds made up most of the decor and surroundings. an educated guess could be that it was all very well kept. the architecture was very cathedral like, beautiful arches and stained glass windows were a prominent feature.

something that couldn't go unnoticed was the smell. or more accurately the fragrance. it was sweet. a tad but of spice such as cinnamon, but mainly like honey or even apples. but it carried the same honey-like warmth the stranger did, something you could now place as a reminisce of wine. it wasn't strong, but it was prominent enough to leave you wondering.

all your thoughts were quickly shoved to one side as from the corner of your eye you saw the stranger pull down his hood. a waterfall of vermillion fell below their shoulders, long locks that looked very well cared for. the stranger quickly rid himself of the rest of his cloak before turning to you.

“my name is argenti” he explained “may i know yours?”

you were hesitant to do so, but he had just saved you and so you indulged the man. he offered a warm smile before ushering you further into his abode. argenti explained how he saw you on his way home and couldn't possibly leave you to suffer in the storm. thus bringing you back to his to wait out the storm.

admittedly, you were still wary about him but you were exhausted, cold and near ill. what could be the harm in staying here till the storm passed?

argenti soon walked you down a corridor to a spare bedroom. he offered it to you to use for the time being and soon excused himself to find something for you to wear until your clothes could dry properly. the spare bedroom was no less ornate than the rest of the castle had been.

it was definitely much better quality than anything you could hope to have. you set your bag down on the floor, anything inside it was probably ruined by now. your suspicions were proved correct when you opened the bag and practically found a puddle inside.

luckily, you hadn't lost anything too important. the majority of the bags' contents were fruits and such, small things you picked up as winter was drawing near and so they would become scarcer to grab hold of until spring, or even summer for some. a sigh still escaped you as know you had to remember to find those same things that had been destroyed as soon as you got back home.

soon enough your attention was drawn back to the room. the same theme of crimsons, golds and silvers lined each and every corner. cautiously, you took steps around the room, checking out each and every corner. it did feel a bit invasive but argenti had given you this room until the storm passed, naturally you would have a look.

out of all the luxuries in the room, the most intriguing to you was the bed and bedside table - perhaps your fatigue was getting to you.

the candlelight was still dim but you could still perfectly make out most shapes and details. the bed was certainly impressive. a small touch to its pillows and sheets were enough to convince you that he was certainly of a higher class.

but the luxurious bed was soon forgotten when you spotted a small, dark stain on the corner of the pillows. it looked like something had been split, something red. upon closer inspection, you could make out a faint coppery smell from it. you pushed your thoughts to the back of your mind and turned to the bedside table.

upon it rested a rather ornate vase, holding a full bloom of roses.

reaching a hand out you gently felt the petal, they were a nice shade of ruby with a velvety feeling to them. although something else caught your eye, a small dot of something rested upon the petal. upon your touch, it dripped. a thick crimson droplet fell from the petal and hit the table.

before you had the chance to do anything else, you heard a knock.

that same velvety deep voice called out “may i come in?”

you called back, saying he could, and quickly shot up and paced back over to the now open door.

“apologies, but this was all i could find for you-” he trailed off, looking down toward your bag and shooting his empty hand up to cover his lower face, taking a few steps back.

it startled you and you quickly asked if everything was okay with him. argenti quickly regained composure and let out a small, awkward chuckle, “yes, sorry but is that garlic in your bag?”

you knelt down to your bag, and sure enough it was the garlic you purchased earlier “it is, is something the matter?”

“you see i'm quite allergic to it, if i may ask, can you move it elsewhere for the time being?” his response shocked you.

mainly because you didn't want to give your host an allergic reaction, especially after he saved you and so you grabbed it out the bag - argenti winced as you did so before asking “may i request you throw it out the window”

he didn't miss the shocked look on your face and he quickly continued “i can reimburse you the money to buy more later”

you didn't argue with him and only nodded. he quickly set aside the pile he was carrying, one hand still over his lower face, and rushed to open one window with a key he fished out of his pocket. you waited until he stepped back before rushing forward and throwing the garlic.

argenti thanked you with a smile, locking the window and turning back to pick up the pile of clothes again.

he handed over a small pile of clothes, the fabric was nicer than anything you owned and your current attire was drenched, you'd take anything but clearly he didn't want to give you anything subpar. and so argenti quickly left again to give you room to change - as he left he called out that he'd be making dinner for a short while later.

and true to his word, not too long later, argenti knocked on your door again and escorted you down to the lavish dining hall.

you sat across from him. the dining table was large but not large enough to create such a distance where you couldn't hold a conversation with him. argenti claimed to of made the meal himself - and if so, you were very impressed, it smelled divine.

the whole situation had left you famished so, cautiously, you took helpings of the dishes you found appetising. you took a hesitant bite of the food and it was as if the the divine smell translated perfectly into the taste.

you watched as he starred down into his embellished goblet before swirling it around, whatever it was had an odd smell, almost coppery, but you used it as an opportunity to break the silence

“what's that? is it wine?” the hesitancy in your voice was painstakingly obvious.

“wine? no, i have not such a taste for that” he paused, looking back down once more, taking a sip before asking you a question

“is the food alright?”

you feigned a smile and responded “yeah, it's nice”, looking over at his place at the table you couldn't help but notice the lack of plate, or even cutlery before him “aren't you having any?”

he shook his head with a smile “no, but please don't let my lack of appetite disconcert you” making a vague gesture to the spread along the table he continued “it was all prepared for you”

although you found it hard to enjoy the meal now knowing that your host was not indulging in the food he made - admittedly it made you rather subconscious but not eating what was left on your plate seemed worse.

the rest of dinner was silent, save for the storm that constantly battered against the stained glass and the wind that seeped through cracks in stone and howled upon arrival. or the occasional times argenti stood up and left, goblet in hand, and came back with supposedly a full glass. each time the smell of copper grew stronger.

eventually it was over. argenti soon escorted you back to the spare room and bid you goodnight. he also quickly gave you directions to his chamber, should you need something during your stay, but you were sure to forget them soon enough.

looking over at the bed, you became very aware of the exhaustion that was seconds away from making you collapse. and so you decided to turn in for the night. ideally you would've preferred to leave ages ago, but the storm was no less better than it was hours ago. so tonight you would have to sleep in argenti’s castle - you were just lucky he was so accommodating..

yet in spite of this, sleep wasn't coming easy to you. whether it was because of the fact you were staying overnight in a castle owned by someone you barely knew, the storm, or the constant feeling of somebody, or something, watching you. but you did notice something in between your tossing turning-

that smell was back.

that rusty, metallic smell that was present during dinner. except it was stronger. more potent than you would've liked - so much so that it was sickly. it was heavy in the air, overpowering the usual sweet cinnamon fragrance.

at this point you were convinced that everywhere in the castle would have an underlying scent of copper.

the next thing you noticed was the sound of something being dragged, just past the door to your room. to say you were freaked out was an understatement. getting up and checking it out seemed like a horrible idea, so you didn't. or you at least waited until it seemed reasonable that if there was someone, they would've been gone.

however, before you could move, you heard footsteps walk back past your door. toward the entrance hall if you recalled correctly. so you waited until they were faint among the sounds of the storm.

cautiously, you made your way to the door. slowly opening it, praying the wood wouldn't creak, and poking your head out looking left and right. it was dark, you couldn't make out much, maybe it was just the walls battling with the storm.

you had no clue what had come over you, but a sudden burst of confidence made you take a couple cautious steps into the cold hallway. candles were truly useless, they were dim and barely gave off heat but they were all you had to illuminate your way.

your steps were quickly faltered when you stepped on something. a liquid. lowering the candle, a trail of crimson slightly turned orange by the flickering flame was leading all the way past your room. looking to the side, it clearly went deeper down the hallway-

someone was watching you.

you felt the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. slowly, filled with dread, you turned around. and there he was.

argenti was stood at the other end of the hallway, wearing that same cloak from earlier, expect this time you could make out faint marks covering most of it. marks that weren't that different to the ones on the floor.

“what are you doing up?” his voice was gentle, like it was trying to soothe you - something that contradicted his actions as he slowly walked towards your figure that was rooted to the spot.

noticing your lack of answer he kept going “did something wake you?”

he was now within less than a meter from you. that coppery smell clung to him like a blanket and it was overwhelming, it made you want to gag. from this close up you could definitely say that the stains and blotches coating his previously pristine coat, were in fact that same crimson trail below.

shakily, you nodded and he gave you a sympathetic smile “ah apologies, was it the storm? afraid there's not much to do, perhaps trying to sleep again is your only option”

was that? was that what you thought it was?

a part of you was convinced that you had seen something, a fang or two, peeking out when he spoke. no. you were tired. your mind was playing tricks on you, surely argenti wasn't…

“if i may ask politely, please return to your room and try and get some sleep.” he stopped to to urge you to turn around “when the storm passes you have a long trip back”

you mindlessly complied. there was no point in overthinking, if argenti really was going to hurt you he would've done so by now, right? one night. that was all. and at this point you didn't even know what to think. your mind too frazzled, scared, and you too exhausted that you just wanted the storm to pass and go home.

and as you tried to get back to sleep, the only thought that crossed your mind was, is argenti really what you thought he was? was he a vampire? you thought they were fictional, a ghost story, the signs were all there but maybe not…

you woke up after what felt like the worst sleep of your life, despite the fact you probably had slept in the most comfortable bed in your life. you quickly found the pile of your now dry clothes and dressed. you desperately wanted to leave, to not overstay your welcome.

argenti found you quickly after you exited the spare room. he showed you to the front door very quickly after hearing you wanted to leave as soon as possible - he was hoping you'd stay for breakfast but he didn't want to force you.

he opened the heavy wooden door again, and you noticed how he stopped at the door, not crossing into the daylight. he smiled “apologies but there is something i have to tend to, don't fear i have requested someone to escort you back the way we came”

in the sunlight you could now tell that there was some kind of pair of fangs peeking out from behind his lips.

“they should be here soon” argenti glanced away to the forest before looking back at you “i do hope we meet sometime in the future”

that sickly sweet smile made you want to run. now that you were refreshed and not worried about dying in a storm you could clearly see all the signs. it made you uneasy. you really just spent the night in a vampire's castle…

you shook the thoughts away and left, grateful to have the opportunity to return home alive. that was it. you'd never see him again, it was best to forget and move on.

although, you could never shake the idea that someone, something, was watching you. through all your theories and attempts to shake the feeling, you never noticed the light scarlet bat that hung outside your house at night.

it wasn't too long after that night that you walked past a group of kids and one adult. and you could never forget the way your blood froze when you saw the adult gesture to the woods you got lost in and say -

“dracula. a creature of the night, don't tempt your fate out in those woods”

[shirecorn]

this is a bit silly but i have strabismus and i never see anyone make designs with it. so thanks! it made me feel really nice!

I know four people with strabismus! It's actually really common occurrence in real life.

This particular design based on the canon appearance of a My Little Pony character.

In both canon and fandom, she is shown to be extremely clumsy, makes many mistakes, and speaks in somewhat of a monotone. A lot of people consider her autistic-coded.

Both autism and strabismus are great! But misaligned eyes have been used as a shorthand for stupidity in animation and comics for a very long time. So I don't like to pair them, personally.

Apparently strabismus does occur more frequently in autistic people! But there are way more people who have it who are allistic.

I'm of the opinion that you can pair traits together that just happen to align with stereotypes as long as you have those traits represented separately in other characters. There's quite a few ponies who are easy to interpret as autistic, but she's the only one I can think of with strabismus, and unfortunately her personality is easy to write off as "stupid." A good way to fix this without changing the character is to have a variety of other allistic characters with strabismus and other traits that don't reinforce stereotypes.

The same goes for other over-done tropes that combine traits. If your only gay character is a cop, that's suspect like you're just checking boxes. But if you have lots of gays in a variety of professions then cop becomes just one of the many flavors of gay. The same goes for childlike or autistic asexuals, and ethnic stereotypes like aggressive black characters, or tech-support indians. All of these people exist! But they also exist (much more frequently) without those combinations. So adding diversity to your world is important.

I don't think I have any ocs with strabismus, so I'll bestow the honor on one or several of them. I'm glad my art made you feel nice, I hope to do more of that in the future!

[marikbentusi]

I wasn't interested much in the Gwenpool Fortnite collab (fingerless gloves are a cute tweak), but someone asked on Twitter about "evil future Gwenpool" being labelled "Dark Gwenpool" ingame (which is what I've been calling my fan character variant since 2020):

"Dark" is a very common prefix for evil alter egos, so even if people occasionally mistake my comics for official material, I was certain this was a coincidence. But then the person also casually pointed out that she's called "Dark GwenPool" on Wikipedia. Huh?

No sources cited as far as I can tell. One of the original Gwenpool creators even agreed that "Dark Gwenpool" was never official:

I hunted down the Wikipedia changelog where apparently someone injected all the Dark Gwenpool stuff on 8th of April this year (2024). So maybe someone on the Fortnite team checked Google/Wikipedia instead of making up the name from scratch.

I tried to hunt down the wiki editor for questioning only to find out they are banned for being a sockpuppet account. In fact, that user was such a prolific sockpuppeteer that they've got their own Wikipedia page listing all 164 suspected alts. One of them is called "Batrocfrogg", what kind of canonization assist from beyond the grave is this?!

Since that lead went cold, I looked at the sources the wiki edit gave when talking about the character more generally. Aside from the official comics where she isn't called Dark Gwenpool, we've got:

"Peter Parker & Miles Morales: Spider-Men Double Trouble #2" – evil Gwen just has a cosplay background cameo there, no name drop.

Marvel Duel, a niche F2P mobile card game, where she's an antagonist.

The person who first pointed out to me that "Dark Gwenpool" was also on Wikipedia dug around and found a screenshot that evil Gwen is indeed called "Dark Gwenpool" in Marvel Duel:

Obviously I assume the Marvel Duel devs just made that one up without knowing about my comics. Case closed on that lead! But I'm not sure if the Wiki edit was based on this.

Marvel Duel, if we can still trust its wiki page, only released in eight countries. They are mostly in the UTC+8 time zone. The edit was finished on ~22:00 UTC+0, which would be Tuesday 05:00 AM local time if the editor is from one of those countries themselves. Of course, maybe the person played an emulated/jailbroken version (the game does come in English), watched a foreign Let's Play, or is just a super night owl. None of these are stranger than having 146 sockpuppet accounts. But it also doesn't exactly help the edit's credibility like I had hoped.

I also don't know if Marvel Duel included the name variations "Dark GwenPool" and "Dark Gwen" that the Wiki editor used specifically (in the screencap above she's stylized differently). The editor also called her the "evil alternator future version" tho, so maybe they aren't a stickler for details.

----

But yeah the TL;DR is that "Dark GwenPool" is currently the main name for evil Gwen on Wikipedia with no source cited. Marvel Duel calling her that as well was probably just coincidence. Maybe Fortnite also made it up, or they copied it from Wikipedia, or maybe they copied it from Marvel Duel itself.

I thought it was weird and funny enough to share. 164 sockpuppets. WTF.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 8!!!!!!!!

This has literally been sitting in my drafts for so long I forgot it existed. Sorry to all the Baron Draxum fans (and Draxum himself, bbgirl deserves better). If you're new to my line of notes here's the beginning where I started with Raph. Alright part 8, Baron Draxum, here we go.

Language Habits:

Speaks in long and drawn out sentences, if you're getting nervous about run-on sentences you're on the right track

Due to this, tends to give speeches or monologues

Dramatizes everything fairly eloquently, look for the most exaggerated form of a word. Classic villain speak: "imbeciles", "brethren", "eliminate"

Puts emphasis on those dramatic adjectives and verbs

Occasionally refers to himself in the third person, not as often as Raph

Tends to yell or raise his voice when frustrated or lost in passion

A common gag is trailing off in a casual tone about the severity of his experiments ie his "if it works right" about the ooze causing pain when mutating that poor fish guy

Personality:

Incredibly intelligent yet impatient. It isn't known to my knowledge who taught Draxum or if he taught himself, but his mastery of alchemy and fighting makes him a truly impressive opponent. However, he's always cutting corners to get to his goal. He wasn't willing to raise through the ranks of The Foot the traditional way, he created an army of mutants rather than seek yokai, and was unwilling to spend further time interpreting the prophecy of doom towards yokai-kind

Flair for the (over)dramatic. Draxum is almost your classic evil villain kind of guy. He'll pull out all musical stops, including flowing hair and clothes. On the other end he'll completely overreact and commit to things of little matter like his position as a lunch lady.

Unyielding in his stubbornness. Draxum is not easily swayed in his belief, and even as hard as Mikey tries he is not rid of his disdain for humans by the end of the series. Guy was also incredibly persistent in his research despite his lab blowing up twice. This also allows him to hold longer grudges, even resorting to childish pettiness if he feels annoyed enough.

Affinity for muscles and power. He was drawn to Lou Jitsu for many reasons, but a main one was definitely his muscles. All his guards are usually incredibly beefy, and he was immediately drawn to Raph as "beautiful" when he's reintroduced to his specimens. As for power, he's drawn to the dark armor and is lost in the ecstasy of being imbued with so much mystic energy.

Self-absorbed and egotistical. Draxum is kind of obsessed with his title and self-proclaimed responsibility for saving yokai-kind. He's not one to easily admit his mistakes and takes great pride in his work.

Willing to toe the line of morality. Huginn and Muninn have blatantly called him their evil boss, but Draxum does see his actions for the good of yokai-kind. I don't think he really cares if he's working with evil organizations (The Foot) or doing evil things if he saves the day.

Team builder. I think it's interesting how Draxum is drawn to building teams. He's drawn to working together, all he wants to do is unite yokai and his mutants into an efficient force. This does not mean he's very successful.

Miscellaneous:

Has minor telekinesis

Was a warrior before he was an alchemist

Does not have a good relationship with the Three Heads (apparent leaders of the Hidden City)

Controls seeds that can a) grow into vines, b) expand into robotic vine gauntlets, c) encase his gauntlets into meatier gauntlets that can shoot out waxy cocoons

Is referred to as a sheep-man from the brothers, but I suppose whatever animal you interpret him as is up to you

Has a great singing voice :) ( which is subjective I suppose)

Alright now that is finally posted just gonna let you know that this Isn't the last of my rise analysis posts!! I'm so sorry for the wait!! I got lost in so many schedule things. I'll try and pump a few more analysis posts out within these next few weeks (excluding June 16-22), but I've also been busy working on miscellaneous wips. Thank you for being so sweet to me on all the other notes posts, you guys are so awesome :)

[chilschuck]

Hear me out...

Witch/mage half-foot reader x chilchuck? Iy would be cute i think?

Maybe they have that carefree, mad hatter-y vibe that makes chil grow white hairs every single moment lol

(sorry for any mistakes, english isnt my first language)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA and i hope i did it justice!!! struggling to write for some reason lately but i got this out for you and i’m so happy that i finished it!!

— CHILCHUCK: x mage half-foot!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw + gn!reader!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 570

✦ hope this turned out okay!!! i am trying to get out at least one request a day! <3 enjoy!!

✦ You made it very known you were interested in joining the party, and Laios suggested it wouldn’t be too bad to have another magic user around. Since no one had really any objections to it, you became the party’s second half-foot member.

✦ With a smaller amount of mana than other races, you used your magic in smaller bursts. Even with having to be more observant of when you used it, you were definitely more of a carefree soul than the other members.

✦ Running headfirst into whatever monster made an appearance was common for you, and Chilchuck grabbing you by the collar and pulling you to safety with him was as well. You seemed to have a knack for making Chilchuck grow more gray hairs, whether it be by scaring the hell out of him with reckless behavior or disappearing for a span of time before popping up right behind him. (He didn’t want to guess what exactly you went off to do.)

✦ Chilchuck, when given the chance, would grab you by your shoulders to get onto you about your reckless behavior. To his dismay, you usually gave him that sly, carefree grin you always did. You two were definitely polar opposites in some regards, and Chilchuck had to routinely keep his heart from stopping when you put yourself in danger.

✦ That isn’t to say you weren’t skilled at what you do: even Chilchuck knew you had talent. It was more so that you had a bit more fun than needed, which caused the already older half-foot to feel like he’s aging more.

✦ All his concerns and reprimanding aside, he really did enjoy your company. Maybe it was your whimsical sort of outlook or the way you carried yourself, but he was definitely drawn to you. The first time he realized this was when you scared him so badly that he thought he had lost you. After letting him know you were fine and that it’s nothing some healing won’t fix up, he knew you had begun to grow on him.

✦ You made sure to tease him about his concern over your wellbeing, letting him know you were more than capable of taking care of yourself. Maybe even purposefully putting him on edge with some of your shenanigans just to see him freak out a little.

✦ Secretly, Chilchuck admired how gutsy you were, even if your mad hatter-like personality gave him heart palpitations. He wondered what it must be like to not have any concerns like that, sometimes catching his attention being solely on you and your work.

✦ It didn’t help that you and your personality were pretty charming, after all. Maybe he even found it cute how engrossed in certain aspects of magic you’d get. And how excited you got when you succeeded at something. Also how you’d sometimes catch yourself daydreaming and get lost in thought. The list goes on, much to his dismay.

✦ The half-foot would always deny it, but sometimes Marcille sees the way he looks at you and absolutely teases him. Apparently, it reminds her of a romance novel she read once, about a grumpy man and this mage that taught him how to live life to the fullest. Chilchuck swatted her away, trying his best to ignore the feeling in his chest at that. He definitely has some thinking to do… (And feelings to acknowledge!!)

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

[earako]

Okay screw it another point form thingy

- Ballister has some traits that reflect his upbringing as a commoner in his certain area of the realm

- And both Ambrosius and Nimona love it

- Ambrosius didn't know Ballister had his ears pierced till he was dared to put on earrings in their early teens. Ballister just shrugged and popped them into his ear and didn't understand why his classmates were staring at him. [Apparently nobility didn't pierce their kids ears when they were babies]

- Also I'm giving Ballister sensitive ears. He may be a former street kid but his ears will never accept anything less than surgical steel/hypoallergenic/pure gold or silver [Ballister used to have gold earrings but he ended up selling them for food]

- okay wow that was a long rant on earrings-

-moving on: food as a love language! Ambrosius learned very quickly that Ballister used food as a means to communicate. After an argument or whenever they just didn't mesh well together Ambrosius would find a plate of cut up fruit on his bedside table followed by an apology from Ballister. [Funny enough, Ambrosius also likes to communicate via food, though he has a bit more sorta rules and stuff compared to Ballisters food as a love language]

- Ambrosius made the mistake of telling Ballister he liked a certain food once. So when he saw Nimona repeat his mistake he just said "Well I hope you're ready to eat that for the next month." Nimona didn't believe him. And was quickly proven wrong.

- When Ballister brought Nimona and Ambroaius to visit the area he grew up in Nimona asked him how many relatives he had. Ballister had to explain that he called family friends auntie/uncle/brother/sister out of respect. [Ambrosius also does the same, you know what fine, Ballister and Ambrosius share the Asian experience of calling everyone auntie/uncle/etc.]

- There is a very specific sound that'll get Ballister's attention in an instant. It's like a hiss but also tongue clicking kinda noise. Ambrosius accidentally copied it once and was confused when Ballister's head shot up, looking around confused before realizing Ambrosius made the noise

- Nimona learns about it and now makes the noise every time she wants Ballister's attention

- And back to the earring thing real quick but Ballister and Nimona going earring shopping together.

- Ballister and Ambrosius having traditional foods that look similar but are called different names. They'll playfully argue for hours calling each others dish the name of the dish in their respective home cultures. Nimona just rolls their eyes and eats half the pot so they'll stop.

- Lip pointing. The first time Ballister did it Ambrosius leaned in for a kiss. Poor guy-

- [this is just me projecting buut] sharpening pencils with a knife. Ambrosius gave Ballister a pencil sharpener but he likes the knife better [Screw it I'm giving Ballister a balisong-]