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rollinouttahere-writes · 1 year

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So. It's kinda random but what if Platonic Yandere! Strawhats with Y/n who is an artist? And maybe one day they saw how Y/n drew one of them but doesn't want to show any?

Let me see!

Yandere Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.4k words

It was rare to get any time to yourself around here. Ever since you got mixed in with the Strawhat Crew, you felt like you always had someone attached to your hip or hovering over your shoulder. This made indulging in your personal hobbies difficult. Granted, it’s not like any of them would stop you from doing it, but you wanted to keep at least one thing for yourself.

Today was one of those instances where you were actually being left alone. You’re not sure how it happened this time. Maybe they all thought you were already spending time with someone else. Whatever, you’re not about to waste these precious moments pondering it.

Quietly slipping into your room, you pull your sketchbook and utensils out of their hiding spot. You curled up in your bed and flipped through the book until you found a blank page. Twirling the pencil between your fingers, you contemplate what to draw.

Despite your.. Complicated relationship with the crew, you couldn’t help but be inspired by them. Well, artistically speaking at least. They were constantly doing all these incredible feats and looking cool as hell while doing it. That, and it’s not like you saw much else besides them anyways.

After mulling it over, you start sketching, having decided on drawing Luffy today. He was an incredibly fun person to draw, what with his admittedly adorable baby face and his cartoonish anatomy.

It didn’t take long for you to really get into the zone and be only focused on putting new lines onto the sheet of paper. You’re so focused that you don’t hear the door to your room open, nor the sound of sandals slapping across the floor until it’s too late.

“(Y/N)! Why are you hiding in here, I’ve been looking for you!” Luffy giddily rushed towards your bed and threw himself onto it, and subsequently you.

Frantically, you try to hide the sketch book under the covers, but he already saw it. Perking up, he tries snatching it out of your hand, “C’mon, why are you reading a book when you could be playing with me?!”

Yes! You might be able to get out of this yet. If he thinks it’s a book, he definitely won’t try to read it and discover what it really is. “I like reading, Luffy. I just want to curl up with a good book once in a while,” as you’re saying this, you narrowly avoid letting it fall into his grabby hands, and slip it underneath yourself to sit on it.

He pouts and rests his face on his hands, still focused on the book, “Is it really that good that you want to read it more than hang out with me?”

You cringe a bit at how pointed the question was. There was no good answer here. Either you say no and he’ll immediately drag you off, or you say yes and run the risk of hurting his feelings. Then you’ll have to deal with a temper tantrum from him, and being admonished by the rest of the crew for being mean. “It’s not about it being better than hanging out with you, I can like doing more things you know.”

Luffy huffs at your indirect answer and begins tugging on the book again, “What’s it’s even about then?”

Oh shit. Um. Hm. Now you need to improvise. “It’s about,” you dart your eyes around looking for any inspiration to help you out. You’re in a plain room on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and of course the plot of literally every book you’ve ever read has completely vacated your brain.

You were apparently taking too long to tell him, so he just ripped it out from under you to investigate himself. “It can’t be that good if it’s that hard to explain. Why would you-” Luffy’s sentence died on his tongue as he opens it, right onto a picture of himself.

Panicking, you launch yourself onto his back in a desperate attempt to confiscate it, but he simply stretches his arms to keep it out of reach.

“This is awesome! Why didn’t you tell me you could draw so good?” Much to your chagrin, he starts flipping through it, now seeing sketches of the other members, too.

“Luffy! Give that back! I didn’t say you could look at that!” Blood rushed to your face from the embarrassment of being caught.

He peers over his shoulder at you, looking bewildered at your statement, “What’s the big deal? Don’t you want to share your talent?”

“No, I don’t! Just give it back and don’t tell anyone about it! Please!” You scrambled off the bed and leapt for the book, but he just snapped his arms back and continued the game of keep away.

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of your words and actions. His eyes suddenly widened and he grinned as something clicked for him, “Oh I get it! You don’t know how good these are! You just need some help realizing it!” With that, he took off out of your room, sketchbook in hand.

“Get back here!” You sprinted after him, hoping you could get it back before he showed everyone, but deep down you knew it was already too late.

You were at a massive disadvantage here. Luffy was fast, especially when he had something he wasn’t supposed to. By the time you make it onto the deck, you’re horrified to see he’s already acquired an audience. Nami and Robin were seated at the table, with Sanji serving them some tea and snacks (which were currently being inhaled by Luffy while they were distracted by the book).

“You aren’t supposed to see that!” You hope that you’ll be able to get it out of Robin’s hands, but Luffy wraps one of his arms around you, leaving you immobilized at his side. Before you could beg them to please put it down, Luffy shoves a tiny cake into your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Go back a page, I think I saw one of me!” Nami was pestering Robin and trying to get it to herself, but any attempts at grabbing it were thwarted by an arm sprouting from the table and swatting her hands away.

“In a minute, Nami, I’ll let you see when I’m finished,” Robin was entirely unbothered by her pleas (and yours), choosing to casually flip through each and every page with a small smile on her face.

Sanji was looking over them, smiling at the artwork, and was the first to acknowledge that you were standing right there. “These are incredible, though I’m not surprised that you would be so talented~!”

The sweet and genuine compliment almost made you cave in to accepting the situation, but you dismissed it. Swallowing the cake, you can finally speak again, “Please stop looking at that, I don’t like people looking at my sketchbook!” Especially not when the people in question kidnapped you and are actively holding you hostage.

“Oh? Are you shy about it? How cute,” Robin teased.

“It’s not-” you were once again cut off by another cake being stuffed into your mouth.

“What are you guys all looking at?” Chopper was now approaching with Usopp not far behind. Great. Why not just let everyone see it!

Robin flipped to a page with Chopper on it and showed it to him, “(Y/N), took the time to draw all of us, it seems.”

Chopper’s eyes sparkled at the drawing, and against all logic he was somehow blushing??? “Oh I don’t look all cutesy like that, you jerk!” His dopey smile easily contradicted his words.

“I didn’t know you were also an artist. You should have told me sooner, I could’ve been teaching you! I’ll have you know I’ve tutored many famous artists! In fact, this reminds me- You drew me too?!” Usopp’s tale is cut short when Robin shows him a sketch of himself.

You finally stop struggling, instead choosing to flop against Luffy in defeat. What’s the point? Damn near everyone has already seen it, you’re sure Zoro will wander on over here soon enough anyways.

Upon feeling you give up, Luffy lets go and looks very pleased with himself. He unceremoniously shoves the little remaining food into his mouth and runs off calling for Zoro while Sanji gives chase, scolding him for eating all the food.

You just stood there, not knowing what else you could do. With Luffy gone, everyone else was crowding around you, lavishing you with compliments and asking questions all at once. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, all you could do was sulk as the last thing that you had just to yourself was taken away and thrown out into the open.

It was bound to happen eventually, you suppose.

#one piece #one piece x reader #yandere one piece #yandere #platonic yandere #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #monkey d luffy #sanji #black leg sanji #nami #usopp #tony tony chopper #nico robin #emtynessinmyworld #cat burglar nami

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octuscle · 8 months

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Full time barista here I’ve always been envious of the men on stage especially the heavy weights. Don’t want to over work the chronivac but help me become a muscle bull as big as jean pierre fux.

Mate, I understand you only too well…. There are few things hotter than the real heavy beefcakes. I've tried it long enough myself… But I didn't make it either. Jean Pierre is a pretty good role model… But I have an idea…

Friday morning. It's 06:00, you have to hurry, in one hour you have to prepare the first coffee. You don't have time for much more than a few situps and pushups. In the bathroom you have to hurry. You need longer and longer to conceal your receding hairline. You are now 40 years old, slowly you just notice that you are getting older. If you go out tonight to party, it will take you almost the whole Saturday to recover. The cosmetic industry has nothing effective to offer against the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes. And even if you don't need to be ashamed of your body: You won't gain much more muscle in your lifetime.

Shit, at 07:00 o'clock people are already queuing up. You hate it when you can't open the store in peace. But as it looks, it will be 10:00 o'clock, until you have the first moment of rest. In fact, it's even 10:30 when your colleague thinks you can take a break. If you need it, he adds with a wink. You look fantastic today! You take a mineral water and sit down in the warehouse. In fact, you feel pretty damn good right now. You drink the water in one go. You don't have much time for a break. And you have to piss again before the lunch business starts. Your lower jaw drops as you wash your hands. Fuck, what happened to you. There are no more receding hairlines or laugh lines. You look ten years younger than when you got up today. The only difference is that you look as if you'd spent the last ten years doing little else but lifting iron. Your T-shirt is almost blown up by your biceps and pecs. And your jeans look like they're painted on your monstrous legs. How could you not notice that? As you tie the apron back on your way back to the counter, you wonder why you were just amazed. Since your 20th birthday, you've spent every spare minute at the gym, investing every penny you earn in protein and supplements. Hell, if you didn't look the way you do, you would have wasted a hell of a lot of time and money.

The calm in your coffee bar begins to subside again. The lunch business is starting up. There's a beefcake in your line that makes you jealous. Yo, bro! he greets you. It's nice to see that there are real men working here, too. What you can recommend to him. You suggest the protein bomb. A scramble of 10 eggs with 400 grams of chicken breast. He grins and nods. And a liter of still mineral water. The bro shares your taste. While you type everything into the register, he asks you if you're all-natural. Of course you are. With the money for the meal, he slides you a card. In case you want to think about it.

It is 17:00 o'clock, when you tie off your apron. Fuck' according to your watch you have walked 12,000 steps today on the few square meters behind the counter. But it also looks like it's been a pretty good day so far. You're 20 now, and the idea of opening your own café with healthy and, above all, protein-rich food came to you when you were 16. That's when you started getting into high performance bodybuilding. And a place like this was missing at that time. And then you built this place with your mentor and trainer as a straw man. But you can't stand behind the counter for more than ten hours. Even if you are the best advertisement for your products, you have to work out at least four hours every day. Otherwise you don't stand a chance on the big stage.

You might not be one of the big ones yet… But you are on a really good way to get there. You met Jean Pierre Fux once at a fitness fair in Germany. A great role model for you. And he said that at your age he would have been a linnet compared to you. The prerequisites for a brilliant career are there. Enjoy it and make the best of it!

This and other hot pics @anton227ludwig

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #tank top #inked man #age reduction

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kiyoumie · 1 year

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featuring: timeskip!kenma (kodzuken).

warnings: cringe probably, very cliché plot, gn!reader.

note: pls this was a writing after like 3 years, i’m sorry if there are incorrect grammars :’

the lights in his room are dimmed, only his gaming lights are switched on. kenma's sharp eyes stings when he turned on his desktop for the ninth time of the day.

he gets his live ready, he just hit 10 million subscribers and now he wants to celebrate it with a Q&A with his fans. well, he promised his fans anyways, there's no going back now.

as his live starts, the camera turns on and he sees the chat run saying their his and hellos. some fans notice his eyebags, worrying about his appearance. some are donating already, throwing thousands of yens to him.

his appearance is quite bad. eyebags visible and you can literally see the tiredness in his eyes. his shoulders looks weak. but he can't back up now, he tweeted that he was gonna be live to celebrate his new achievement.

kenma giggles, “thank you for the dono.. kodzulove. yes, yes, we’re doing a Q&A today. don’t worry, i promised you guys..”

he looks down searching for something. it took him a second since his room is dark. he shows his fans his favorite black hair tie and begin to tie up his dyed hair into a bun. a lot of his fans goes crazy over this, kenma doesn’t realize why though. somehow it’s hot to them.

“alright. let’s start! first of all, congratulations for me for hitting 10 million subscribers. but of course i wouldn’t achieve this without you all …” kenma continues to ramble about his achievement and his gratitude towards his fans.

“.. okay, i’ve rambled too much. let’s start the Q&A now, remember that i can’t see every question because you guys are going fast in the chat. maybe i should turn on slow-mode.” kenma sighs into the mic and coughs before starting.

he reads out a question, “why did you start your channel?”

“pretty much because i liked gaming since i was a child. then i found out i can make money out of it, so.. yeah.” he smiles.

“can you prank kuroo again?”

kenma laughed as he read the question, he remembers the day he pranked kuroo by wasting his money to buy fucking apple pies from the nearby bakery, “soon. maybe. that might be a death wish though.”

“when can we see you play observation duty?”

“ah, right! i’ll play that soon, the horror game won the poll i started right?”

after a few questions, kenma got bored until he finds an unusual question. his fans mostly questions him about him and his gaming industry. only a few would ask him about his private life, his true fans knows that kenma doesn’t like being questioned about his real life.

“kenma, how’s your partner?”

he reveals a sweet smile before speaking, “they’re doing great. they’re currently doing their essay in the room beside mine. you know, they brought me dinner and dessert to my desk today just before i started this live. i said thank you but i genuinely feel like i can’t show them the love they deserve.

my partner has been spoiling me these days and i just wanna say that it’s cute. when i got home yesterday, my desk was clean. no, my room was clean. then i saw them sleeping on my bean bag..”

kenma stops and reads a comment, “yeah, the green bean bag one fan bought me. thank you for that by the way.”

“but anyways, i just wanna say that i love them so much and i feel like i don’t deserve them. yeah, yeah. i get it. i never say these type of things. but really, i feel like i don’t appreciate their love enough. what do you guys think i should do for them?” he leans down to his chair for awhile.

his chat goes crazy, a lot of awws and suggestions were said. donations flows in quick and he can hear the notifications in his ears.

‘take them out to a date!’

‘get them a gift!’

kenma gets up and giggles while waving his hands in front of his camera, “i’ll do your suggestions. okay, enough of that. next!”

kenma knows that you’re doing your essay right now, but what he doesn’t know is that you have him in the background while you do your work.

you are absolutely ready for a surprise tomorrow.

#haikyuu fluff #kozume kenma #kenma fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #nekoma #kozume kenma fluff #anime #kodzuken #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #kiyoumie writes 🧸

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littlemisssquiggles · 1 year

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...So about the SIXTH episode of RWBY V9...

This is the episode where I think my general opinion will probably get me in trouble with a certain community within the FNDM. Already you can probably tell where I’m about to go with this knowing exactly what happened in today’s episode if you saw. But; since I’ve always did my best to remain honest in my remark posts, I’m just going to come right out and say what I have to say regarding this episode. Specifically a certain moment in it.

[SPOILERS AHEAD! NUFF SAID]

Something to be said about the Bees...

If you were expecting me to gush over the big Bumblebee confession and kiss that was dropped today then I’m going to have to disappoint some of you. I mean…I knew it was going to happen eventually given all the hints that were dropped this season and even prior to it even in the promotional material like the volume poster.

However; despite expecting it…I’m sorry ya'll but I didn't care for the major Bumblebee moment at all.

If anything, the moment left me rolling my eyes and feeling genuinely annoyed that the showrunners chose to dedicate a portion of the episode to this rather than anything else.

Outside of the setup, the visuals and the music (I really loved the little theme that was playing throughout the moment), if it were any other ship---a ship that was better developed, this moment would've had me over the moon.

Being the hopeless romantic that I am with a shipping heart that’s bigger than I am tall, I should’ve loved this moment! I WANTED to love this moment because, not gonna lie, it got me a little bit during the build up bits. But only because it was such a ridiculously sweet, tender moment and as I said, the set up was fantastic.

It should be a crime to give me such a beautifully executed confession scene with all the fixings and waste it on a ship that I don’t care about.

The fact that this, compared to other shipping moments that came before, was wasted on the Bees---I just felt nothing for it.

And before anyone jumps down my throat and calls me names, let me just counter by saying this one thing:

My issue with Bumblebee as a romantic pairing has NEVER been the fact that it's LGBTQ (and I genuinely hate seeing this accusation used every time someone so much as criticize this ship).

Good writing is very, very important to me. It’s what I look for the most in every piece of media I consume from books to TV shows to movies, etc. In the case of stories with important character bonds and romantic subplots, the writing backing said relationships between characters is what matters foremost to this squiggle meister.

To put it bluntly, I could give two shits whether a character relationship is straight or queer. Just tell a goddamn good story because a good story will make any character or character connection---be it straight or LGBTQ---worth getting invested in.

This is my gripe with Yang and Blake’s so-called romantic journey. The development of these two leading ladies from strangers to friends to lovers has not been a good story or at least not a well-written one for me from the start.

There has been some noticeable bumps in the road to get us to the highlight of today’s episode where Yang and Blake profess their love for one another and then seal it with a kiss.

And while the more vocally passionate supporters of this ship would often like to disregard/flat out deny the humble beginnings of the Bees, I simply cannot because I pay too much attention to the writing in the story of RWBY.

My main gripe with the Bees has always been in its execution; the way the show chose to go about writing and portraying this pair. It never felt natural to me. It always felt forced because rather than actually backing the Bees with good writing, the writers felt that suddenly shoving them together after 5 seasons of focusing on another Blake ship and then shoehorning little nuggets of Bees into moments where the timing felt off was enough.

Spoilers. It wasn’t. Not everyone bought into the Bee romance. Myself included.

This episode, sadly, only proved to further my point.

I was more invested in the other part of Episode 6---the part that focused on Jaune's story as the Rusted Knight.

I honestly was expecting this episode to be the one where Ruby finally has her breaking point. The way the CRWBY members were telling everyone to avoid spoilers prior to today’s episode over on Twitter, I felt like this was going to be the pinnacle episode where that happened.

But no. Turns out the highlight of episode 6 was the Bee kiss and…again, as I’ll reiterate, it did nothing for me.

The rest of the episode...

While the Bee shippers can have their fun gushing about the Bee moment and that alone, for me, I was more invested in the non-Bee related aspect of the episode.

The fact that Alyx's adventures in the Ever After were indeed true. The fact that Alyx wasn't entirely the “kind protagonist” as she was made out to be in her own story. The fact that she had a brother that she willingly sacrificed to the Tree as a means of returning home. The fact that the Tree is actually dangerous. The fact that the Curious Cat pulled a Kyube from Madoka Magica and is not the friendly ally we pegged it to be (Or at least that is what we're being led to believe)

All of these reveals interested me far more than the Bee kiss and I wanted more from that part of the episode.

Personally I'm still willing to put my fate in the Curious Cat. It did seem genuinely saddened after it parted ways with Ruby, Weiss and Jaune.

A part of me is still willing to believe that in the end, the Curious Cat will do something good for Ruby to get her and her friends home. I wish to hold out on that, mainly because I do like the Curious Cat as a character.

Another part I thought was interesting was the part in the beginning---the part where Jaune ended up on the beach and destroyed the strange clock-shaped fruit that he discovered on the strange tree.

While the episode didn’t say more about that part, it does make me wonder something most curious.

Did Jaune unknowingly mess up/turn back time in the Ever After by destroying the clock fruit?

I mean, it would explain how he was able to meet Alyx and her brother Luis in the past? Clearly Alyx's story took place in the past long before RWBYJ were born if her story was one they grew up with, right?

So interestingly enough…Jaune’s future is Alyx past? Because Jaune met Alyx and her brother in the past but Jaune is from the future after Alyx long completed her adventures in the Ever After and returned home?

I dunno bout ya’ll but I found that twist to be kind of cool. So basically Jaune lived on the Ever After for quite some time given his maturity. But again, Jaune is from the future but met a character from the past.

That makes me wonder something---the mysterious time fruit that Jaune found and destroyed---is there more of it? Could that be an alternative to helping RWBYJ return home safely to Remnant without needing to go to the Tree?

Because as we were made well aware of, the Tree is not quite a tree of life but more so a Tree of Death---another nice twist. However, there is one aspect of it that does remain to be true despite the Curious Cat’s trickery. It does seem like the Tree has the power to return non-Afterans to Remnant but through some kind of sacrifice.

It seems like in order to go back to Remnant, a sacrifice needs to be made?

If Alyx was required to possibly kill and offer her brother up to the Tree of Death to return home to Remant, what if...RWBYJ would have to do something similar?

Imagine if...in the end, Ruby is the one to remain back in the Ever After while her friends go home without her?

What if...Ruby is met with the same ultimatum from the Tree of Death as Alyx? Give up something precious to her in order to go home?

But unlike Alyx who was selfish in her final choice, what if...Ruby doesn't do this? Obviously Ruby would never give up her friends/loved ones the way Alyx did in her story.

What if...Ruby does the opposite of Alyx and sacrifices herself so that her friends may go home without her.

And unlike Alyx who was the lone survivor of the Ever After who wrote her own brother out of her story and her life essentially, what if…Weiss, Blake, Yang and Jaune all return to Remnant and are forced to carry on Ruby’s legacy because back home on Remnant, it would be as if Ruby never existed. Written out of the story.

This makes me think back to the last thing Cinder said to Ruby before leaving her to drop with Neo.

Cinder told Ruby that things would be better if she had never been born. So perhaps, this was a foreshadow to Ruby’s “death”.

Ruby’s existence will be erased, much like Luis.

Or..what if...and this is a big IF, there is another unknown twist to the story of Alyx.

What if…Alyx was never the author of “The Girl Who Fell Through the World”?

What if…the person who told Alyx’s story was in fact her brother Luis?

Hear me out on this one folks because I’m about to drop a big theory here.

What if…back on Remnant, Alyx always has a strained relationship with her brother from the jump and always secretly resented him in a way because as siblings, the two were constantly compared with Luis being the more favourable of the two children since he was the kinder of the two.

Imagine if...growing up Alyx suffered a childhood where she was always told be “more like her brother” and it was this resentment that Alyx brought with her into the Ever After.

What if...when Alyx tried to sacrifice Luis, the Tree of Death pulled a switcheroo, sending Luis back home instead while Alyx remained trapped in the Ever After forever.

It is said in the story that when Alyx returned to Remnant, she wasn't the same person anymore.

So what if... when Luis returned home to Remnant, he wasn’t Luis anymore. He had become Alyx, taking her place in the world while the real Alyx was written out of existence and replaced by Luis.

Or perhaps Luis remained as he was but he was left completely heartbroken by the events. Of losing his sister the way he did. Of leaving her behind the way he did. Perhaps Luis loved his sister dearly and being the kind person that he was depicted to be, Luis chose to carry on his sister’s legacy by writing a book about their adventures where she was the main hero---therefore, Alyx would forever be remembered as a good person because that’s how Luis---the brother she hated--- wanted her---the sister he loved---- to be remembered?

That’s my theory.

Luis became the true author of “The Girl Who Fell Through the World” while Alyx either was eaten by the Jabberwalker or became the Jabberwalker.

I feel the real Alyx was cursed to be forever trapped in the Ever After, becoming known as a monster amongst the inhabitants because that seems to be the type of person Alyx really was---

A monster who would give up her own loved ones to escape the imaginary fairytale world only to wind up becoming a prisoner of it.

That’s my hunch for now and my biggest takeway from this episode.

That being said, this is all I have to say on EP6.

~LMS (2023)

#squiggles talks: rwby #rwby #rwby alyx #rwby theories #rwby volume 9 spoilers

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nine-of-words · 8 months

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Something Borrowed (Part Two)

M Gargoyle x M Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 3030

Content Warnings: Discussion of a Breakup

I hope this one is as fun to read as it is to write <3

The shop’s been much more lively this past week.

Not only because prime wedding season is beginning and bringing along with it an expected influx of customers, but at least partially due to you having an ever-present, talkative guest every weekday your shop is open.

You're honestly not used to having company anymore- besides customers, at least. Since Trevor broke up with you and you moved shop, it’s just been you.

But it's… kind of nice, having someone to talk to every now and then that isn’t just making compulsory, transactional chit chat. It’s made it rather hard to wallow in your sadness alone, as has been your mode of operation for months. You barely even mind that your guest is creating a leaf-litter of loose, discarded documents all over your countertop.

Kirby has taken a brief respite from their datapad to watch your work frosting a cake. This client specifically wanted the entire sides of the cake textured with rosettes, so you of course obliged. You turn the stand with one hand when necessary, confidently putting down the flowing lines of buttercream.

"You make that look soooo easy!" They say, grinning. "But if I tried that, there'd be a huge mess, hehe."

“Do you want to give it a try?” You ask, stopping the flow with an elegant flick. “It’s really nothing but some practice.”

“Oooo…” Their eyes light up “I want to, but I don’t want to waste all your product.”

"Oh, nothing to worry about there. If you pipe onto a clean baking sheet, it can go back in the bag after."

After they roll up their sleeves, wash their hands, and you’ve given them a short and simple demonstration, you suddenly have an intensely focused bureau investigator practicing buttercream rosettes by the dozens in your shop while you handle the customers starting to filter in.

“Aaaww, look at that one! It actually looks like a rose, haha!!” They pause and grin widely while they admire their handiwork, a glob of off-white frosting unceremoniously dripping off the piping tip they’re too distracted to pay attention to.

“It does indeed. You picked it up pretty quickly.” You laugh. “Do you want to keep going? There’s plenty of buttercream.”

“Ugh, no I’m good! My arms are already tired! You must have forearms of steel.”

You chortle in response, but any words you were going to say are cut off by the ringtone cutting through the shop.

“Oh, shoot. I guess I should actually do some work huh? This is probably that ex-client of yours I’ve been waiting to call me back.”

Kirby touches their bolo tie before picking up the call, and suddenly both the ringing, followed by their voice, is completely silenced, despite them clearly talking into their device.

You suppose it’s for the best. You at least have a little smile on your face as you scrape the buttercream off the clean parchment paper and back into the piping bag.

“Ohh, was there a little demo going on? That’s so sweet...” One of your regulars that you’re more acquainted with says as she approaches the counter, observing the small rosettes meeting their demise at the end of your spatula. She’s a tall, willowy Aurelian elf woman with dusty mauve streaks in her blonde hair to match the shade of her eyes and the tint of her skin, and a dainty, jeweled septum piercing. “That kind of enthusiasm makes me think of the little ones at the studio.”

“Haha, just a small one. Good morning Devin,” You say in a warm, compulsory greeting. “Any classes today for you?”

“Birthday party,” She nods, a dreamy smile breaking up her gentle features as you place the box containing her order on the counter in front of her. “It’s a full house this afternoon. Pookie and I have our work cut out for us.”

“Well, that sounds delightful. Maybe I’ll have to come by and paint something some time. When you’re less busy.” Devin runs the sip n’ paint pottery studio down the street, so your businesses tend to get quite a bit of synergy from parties and tourists, especially on holidays. It makes sense that you’d form a bit of an acquaintanceship, but it’s a bit embarrassing to think that you barely know her and she’s still the closest thing you’ve made to a friend since moving almost a year ago- at least until a certain bureau investigator forced their way into your life.

“Please do, we’d love to have you. For you, first one’s free as long as it can fit in your hand.”

You smile and nod. You don’t know if you could glaze pottery without thinking of Trevor… So it might take you quite some time yet before you’re ready to visit her shop in return.

“Oh! Before I forget,” Devin digs through her slouchy, beaded bag, and produces a cylindrical aluminum container you already know contains some homegrown loose leaf Rowenian breakfast tea. “My Gran just sent me a big batch, and I wanted to make sure you got some before I spaced and made it all into kombucha.”

“Oh, bless you.” You say and happily grab the container, immediately opening it to smell the fragrant leaves. You immediately are hit by a wave of nostalgia and homesickness for your home village, which as it so happens, is in the same half of the Queen’s Isle that part of Devin’s family is originally from. “I was running low. Let me knock a smidge off the top of your order for that, haha.”

“Thanks. I’m just so glad you moved onto this street, y’know? It’s so convenient, I used to have to get the party cupcakes catered from clear across the city. And yours are so, so good. They’re way better than the ones we were getting before.”

“Oh, thanks so much! I’m glad. It’s good to be here.” You say, only partially lying. There’s nothing wrong with your shop’s new location… but there are still days you strongly miss your old one. You certainly could’ve done without having your life uprooted.

Devin finishes her transaction and she’s out the door with the box in one hand, waving back with a few fingers wrapped around her keys as the shop bell jingles.

Not long after, the rush arrives. While you work, you can't help but let your thoughts wander back to that handsome customer from yesterday. You wonder when he'll be back? You need to make some less sweet options to put in the case for when he does…

Soon, it’s been an entire week since you saw your handsome stranger. You’ve begun to wonder if the interaction had even gone as well as you remember. Maybe he wasn’t flirting, but was just being polite? You did serve him bland storebrand coffee out of a cheesy mug your ex made you…

You’re almost ready to start tidying for the day when there’s an order jingle ringing out in your deserted shop. You try not to get your hopes up as you walk over to the screen, like you have several times this week- but then let out a huge heave of a sigh when you see the order details.

Carlyle does eventually intend to return to your shop, if his name popping up in your empty online order queue that evening means anything. And luckily for you, this time it’s with enough time before close to get a little something together for him.

First you handle boxing up his order, then after a brief moment of wrestling with whether you should or not, you relent and pop upstairs to make him a mug of coffee.

You don't have to mentally debate if you'll be giving him the embarrassing sentimental mug with the love hearts this time, though- you pick one of the demure, tasteful marbled beige ones from your regular set instead.

After the coffee has been brewed, you carefully bring the steaming mug downstairs, set it on the counter, and turn to observe your display case with a scathingly critical eye.

Something not too sweet. Still flavorful, though. Not too plain- impressive, but not overly showy…

You finally select one of the orange and red currant scones you made fresh this morning. You have to pick something to start with, and this seems as good enough a baseline as any.

Irresistibly dense and buttery, the slight sweetness of the dough is offset by the bright pop of citrus and the tartness of the berry. It's a humble baked good at heart, but it's a recipe you've made so much that you've nearly perfected it, in your opinion. It makes you think of home every time you make a batch as well, so there's no doubt that there's love baked inside. You’ll simply forgo the jam or cream, to fit his preference.

…You really hope he likes it.

You watch the door and chew your lip. Just when you're concerned the coffee will cool off before he gets here, you see him walk past the window and enter the shop.

You realize how weird it probably looks- you anxiously standing here wringing your hands and waiting for him- far too late to do anything about it.

"Oh, whew. Hi there. I'm glad there's not some other Carlyle in this city." You quip with a breathy, stress-relieving laugh. "That would've made this very awkward."

"Good evening," He says in his smooth, deep voice, and gives you such a radiant smile that you momentarily feel like you might just faint. "I didn't expect a whole spread."

"I thought you might like some coffee again this time."

“I absolutely would." Carlyle says in an approving tone, but raises an eyebrow when his eyes pass over the mug it’s in. He grasps the handle of the mug anyway, bringing the liquid to his lips for a sip before continuing. “It’s a shame it’s not in my favorite mug this time; it tastes better in that one. But, I’ll manage to survive somehow.”

Favorite… He’s not talking about the old embarrassing gift mug, is he?

"...Favorite?" You audibly repeat.

“Yes, the pink one with all the hearts on it. ‘World’s Best Boyfriend’?”

He is.

You feel your face heat up with the blood rushing to your face, and you fight the conflicting urges to cover your face with your hands or flee the scene completely.

“You… like... that mug?”

“I do. It’s a great aspiration to have, in my opinion.” You’d think he was taking the piss if he wasn’t clearly being so painfully, genuinely sincere. It’d almost be less embarrassing if he was joking, you think. "Gives me something to work towards.”

"Right. I can… I'll use that one next time, then. If you insist."

Carlyle simply smiles at you from behind the incorrect mug.

You clear your throat.

“Now- I'll have you know I take challenges very seriously,” You say in a forcibly flat voice, trying to regain some of your meager composure. You smirk and motion to the baked treat still sitting on the table. “Whenever you’d like to have a taste.”

Carlyle picks up the scone, inspecting it before finally taking a bite.

You hang on bated breath, trying to not watch his facial expression in an off-putting or intense manner, and most likely failing.

“...I think almost anyone else would enjoy this.” He says after several bites and a long moment of deliberation. “But it’s not for me.”

“Ah. Really? Too sweet?”

“Too sweet.” He confirms. “But the orange is nice.”

“Everyone likes my scones.” You can’t hide the surprised tone from your voice.

“I hope I haven’t upset you.” He says in response, obviously taking your tone to mean you're hurt; but that couldn’t be farther from what’s happening, the gears in your head already trying to come up with a new attempt at a solution. "In my defense, I did try to warn you."

“Upset? Haha, no! Try inspired.” You say with a cheeky grin. “There isn’t a soul on Hearth that hates every single baked good. I refuse to believe it!”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. There has to be something sweet you’ll like, and I’m going to find it.”

"Alright then." He laughs, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Would you like more notes for what I’d enjoy or…?"

"No, no-" You start jotting down a few notes of your own on the scratch pad you keep behind the counter. "Figuring this out on my own is half the fun."

To Carlyle's credit, he has the grace to not waste your effort- finishing the whole thing even if it seems to have not been to his tastes. He even insists on paying for the scone, despite you intending on giving it to him for free.

“So, is there something special about Tuesdays?” You casually lean on the counter, trying to ask in a way that doesn’t seem like such overt information gathering.

“After-hours meeting at the law library with the ladies. I’m at the library most evenings honestly, but on Tuesdays we all tend to congregate and tackle some of the larger research tasks together.”

“You know, these must be some lucky ladies,” Better to rip off the bandage now, you think, rather than getting your hopes up and then find out all of this playful flirting has been courtesy from someone with an incompatible orientation. “For you to be buying cupcakes for them every week, haha. Anyone you’re interested in…?”

“No, nothing like that. They’re my colleagues. My department is entirely women the same age as my mother or older.” He says with a chuckle. “Besides me, of course.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.”

“It has its benefits, it’s sort of like having a bunch of my aunts doting on me at work. On the other hand, they keep trying to set me up with their daughters, daughter’s friends, friend’s daughters, random women off the street… You get the idea.”

“I don’t see why you’d need any help in that area.” The words fly out of your mouth before thinking, and then you internally scold yourself for being so forward. But Carlyle doesn’t seem phased in the least- smirking at you and letting out a breath of a laugh.

“Hah. Perhaps I could get you to convince them on my behalf, then?” He says, his voice a deep rumble as he takes the pink box containing his order from you. You see a glint of his fangs as he speaks. ”If you feel so strongly on the matter.”

Though you got to chat for a bit longer this time, it still didn’t feel like enough. As soon as it’s over, you’re already anticipating getting to talk to him again next week, just with a bit of extra glow.

The next morning, you must look as light as you feel, because someone picks up on it right away.

"You know, you seem a little peppier today." Kirby rests their chin on their palm when they’re done taking a call. "Did something good happen?"

You hesitate to immediately spring into gushing about Carlyle. Kirby has been nothing but positive so far, but you've only known them a short time and you worry about scaring off any semblance of a friend you've had lately.

But they're just sitting there, looking at you expectantly, now…

They have told you to tell them everything…

"That guy I told you about before? He came back." You say, unable to hide your giddiness.

“Oooooo! How exciting!”

“I know. I couldn’t have dreamt this man up if I tried. He was somehow even more charming this time. He’s just… so smooth and well put together and he smiles.” You can feel the blood rushing to your face just talking about seeing him again, however briefly.

“He smiles??? Honey. Everyone smiles! Your ex must’ve been the most boring man on the planet, geez.”

“Maybe a wee bit.” You admit. You do wish Trevor would’ve been more emotive in general, sometimes. You cross your arms, trying to mitigate some of the embarrassment. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you’d have to see it to understand?”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s it, hehehe.” Kirby says, clearly not believing you for a single second.

“And remember how I told you I accidentally gave him that tatty old mug from my ex to use? He asked to use it again, even.”

“Hahaha- Oh wow!! That’s bold!” Kirby giggles. “Did he like the stuff you made?"

"No, he hated it!” You laugh, grinning. “But I'm going to figure him out yet."

"Oh. Well, then-” They cock an eyebrow at you in confusion before swiftly recovering. “Did you ask him out?”

"Uh, no…"

"What? No?" All of Kirby's energy seems to deflate in an instant. "Why not???”

“Good question, I don't know,” You say in a deadpan manner. “Maybe the whole love curse business? It’s a wee bit discouraging for romantic pursuits.”

"Huh? What’s the worst that could happen?”

"I don’t know. …What if…"

"What if???"

"Well, we don't know the extent of the curse yet. What if he explodes like one of the cakes, or… or something worse?"

"Hehehe, he's not a wedding cake!! He's not going to explode!" Kirby wheezes in amusement. "It takes a looooot more juice for a curse to explode a whole person, silly!!"

"Oh, good to know… I think." You find yourself laughing as well at the absurdity and slightly ominous implication of the statement. "I'm a little bit concerned to hear there's a precedent."

"Don’t worry about it! You see a lot of things in my line of work!" They beam mischievously, in the way only someone who is giving unsolicited love advice can. "You should ask him out! I mean, if you're into him, of course. But you really seem like you are, so you should."

"Is it that obvious…?"

"Uuuhhhh… Yes. Super."

"How embarrassing." You groan and hold your forehead with your hand. "If you think so… It sort of seems like tempting fate…"

“Hey, curses can always be broken! You can’t just stop living because something bad might happen.”

"...Right.” You sigh, wishing you could believe them. “I'll keep that in mind."

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

#exophilia #monster lover #monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #gargoyle x reader #gargoyle #male x male #mxm #mlm #male reader #series: something borrowed #oc: carlyle #oc: declan #nine of words

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chicken-fifi · 11 months

Text

Awkward Appearances - Eunhyuk (SuJu) Imagine

Requested by anon: Hello, can I request a eunhyuk x reader imagine where she they used to date and she goes to weekly idol because of her debut (they still have feelings for each other)

Word Count: 1044 words

The nerves you were attempting to keep at bay were beginning to build slowly but surely. Your fellow group members could see how nervous you were and were doing their best to ease them, but they could only do so much. They knew the reason for your nerves - or at the very least they suspected the cause - it wasn’t very difficult to suspect when you went out of your way to avoid a certain group every chance you got leading up to your debut.

It was already rough debuting in a group that was significantly older than the average age of any current idol group, but I suppose that is what gave you guys an edge, something to call your own. Even if it meant you had to deal with the constant questions about how you all felt having to use honorifics with members of different groups who were younger than all of you.

Today, you were all hoping that those questions would be skipped, that this show would be as fun as it looked on TV. Well, everyone else in the group was hoping for those things, you were only focused on attempting to make sure that none of your interactions with a particular host would be blatantly awkward.

ZE:A’s Kwanghee and Super Junior’s Eunhyuk - the cause of every cell in your body sending out and S.O.S. - had begun their recognizable banter signaling the beginning of the show. The four of you stood to the sidelines waiting to be introduced while cameras panned back and forth among all of you capturing your reactions to their banter before Hyukjae introduced your guys and you all ran onto the white set bowing to the two hosts.

“Welcome and congratulations on your debut,” Kwanghee began. “I’ve really enjoyed your debut song these days. It’s very warm and soothing to listen to.”

Haemi, the writer of the debut track, immediately smiles, thanking them kindly, “The goal was for that song to evoke those feelings and bring some comfort when you listen to it. To remind the listener of the comfort of ‘home.’ (y/n), came up with that idea.”

“I only suggested we do something more nuanced,” you added. “Haemi did all the work in creating it. She deserves all the credit for its success.”

Hyukjae looked at you in silence, his eyes meeting yours only to flicker away moments later as Lydia, your group’s leader, asked him a question regarding his thoughts on the song, which he quickly answered without missing a beat. From there on out the shoot went on about as smoothly as one could expect it to go. While you and Hyukjae had few to no interactions - something the director mentioned needed to change in the second half of the shoot - any awkwardness you felt was easily hidden and looked over. For the most part anyways.

“Sam,” Hyukjae began, a new segment starting. “Fans have recently been commenting on your ability to do spontaneous aegyo without it looking forced. Since this is our aegyo segment, which member do you think can match or challenge you?”

Sam wasted no time in leaning over on the block they were sitting on and looking at you directly. You feigned being clueless and turned to look at Haemi who stared back at you with a smug smile.

“(y/n)’s just naturally cute. However, if you ask her to act cute she’s terrible at it!” Sam pointed out, Lydia and Haemi agreeing with the comment.

“It’s very cringy when she tries to act cute,” Lydia added. “I get embarrassed for her.”

Kwanghee and Hyukjae burst out laughing, Hyukjae muttering something under his breath that only you could barely hear.

“I think she’s good at acting cute though.”

Your face flushed red, forcing Kwanghee to begin the segment, starting with Sam. They wasted no time in beginning to sing the song they had been prompted with and looking cute while doing so. Both hosts were enthralled by it, agreeing that it looked natural and they could tell why fans went crazy for their aegyo.

“Alright, now it’s (y/n)’s turn!” Kwanghee exclaimed as Sam ended and sat down as if it was no big deal.

You rose and went to the center of the set between the host and your group, beginning the song and trying your best to not look cringy, giving up halfway as it dawned on you what you were doing. You crouched down, covering your head with your arms in defeat.

“I can’t do this!” you cried out looking at Haemi for help.

Whilst everyone was laughing and joking around about your sudden embarrassment, you could feel Hyukjae’s eyes on you. You turned to look at him, noticing the way adoration swam in his gaze. For a split second everything around you went silent and it was just the two of you in the room. The two of you just looking at one another as if no one else in the world existed, as if the two of you had never broken up.

And that moment ended all too soon as the next segment began after the director called for a cut.

~~~

Bowing to the cameras after thanking the hosts for your time there and promoting your debut track, the shoot ended. You all walked off the set chattering with one another Kwanghee joining your group mates while you lingered behind them - you weren’t exactly sure why you were lingering, although if you being honest with yourself it had to do with Hyukjae, who was also lingering beside you.

“You look great,” he commented. “I mean given all the stress that comes with a debut, you look great in that sense.”

“What about in another sense?” you asked, wanting to know if he felt an inkling of the same things you felt.

“You’ve always looked great to me…and you always will.”

Your heart fluttered, the same way it always did when he would compliment you when you were dating.

“Do you think that maybe one day we could give us another chance?” you asked silently away from prying ears.

He looked at you silently, nodding after a second, “I think we can. And I really would actually really like to.”

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #super junior #super junior masterlist #super junior imagines #super junior scenarios #super junior eunhyuk #super junior lee hyukjae #eunhyuk #lee hyukjae #eunhyuk imagines #eunhyuk scenarios #lee hyukjae imagines #lee hyukjae scenarios

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cha0ticspacebi · 10 months

Text

Everyday you'd go to your job at the coffee shop, come home to your boring student housing apartment complex, yearning for more. Your whole world turns upside down when an injured man falls from a mysterious crack in your ceiling. He tells you he's from Hawkins and has to get back, that his friends need him. Only he's already there, just not when he thinks. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, Eddie was it? But 1986 was 10 years ago."

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Tags: Eventual smut, canon divergence, multiverse/alternate realities, everything up to the moment Dustin leaves Eddie's side in the upside down is canon here, slow burn, strangers to lovers, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, tags updated as we go ⚠️ 18+ MDNI ⚠️

Author's Note: This will be a multi-chapter story but I'm not exactly sure how many yet. My writer's block has been horrible! I haven't been able to work on much of anything let along finish things since like March. I'm posting this hoping it helps pull me out. Your comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Chapter 1

Ahh the coffee shop. The quintessential meet cute used by authors, screenwriters, and songwriters alike since the dawn of time. It provides endless possibilities, so many opportunities for love to blossom. Limitless potential contained so neatly in a delicious smelling convenient package.

Perfect strangers sharing the only available seating, bonding over perhaps a shared interest. One makes an innocent comment about the drink of choice made by the other which leads to quickened heartbeats and flushed faces when one invites the other to try a sip. Old friends, reconnecting during a chance meeting, end up foregoing prior engagements in favor of spending hours with a person they thought lost to time. Sudden enemies formed when a quick turn results in a soiled business suit and wasted coffee, but a seed is planted the next day when the guilty party returns and attempts to make amends with a fresh cup of coffee and a new start.

Even the employees are not immune to its charm. A regular customer coming in finally works up the nerve to ask their favorite barista out on a date. A mistake is made during the busy morning rush and a happy accident occurs when they end up liking the unintended drink. An employee starting their first day and the customer who defends them while others grumble and complain that it’s taking too long.

Yes, you’ve thought of it all. Everyday upon entering your current working establishment you wish with all your hopeless romantic heart that today will be your day to experience the coffee shop’s blessings and meet someone who sets your soul on fire. Everyday watching with a careful eye. But alas, every order is made and delivered without the slightest hint of that buzzing feeling you so badly want to experience just from looking at someone. Today just isn’t your day.

“Hey! Can you stop totally spacing out and help me please?” The increasingly annoyed voice of your coworker and best friend brought you back to reality. A large row of tickets had somehow formed in the time from when you started daydreaming to now. Which is really strange because you could’ve sworn the last time you looked up the shop was completely empty.

“Yeah,” clearing your mind with a solid breath, shaking away all thoughts of romance, grabbing the first order and beginning to work on it, “Yeah sorry, guess I’ve just been a little distracted today.”

She called back to you as you both worked, you weren’t looking at one another but you knew she was smiling, “Buckle up buttercup, it’s going to be a long morning!”

Settling into the routine of familiar faces and drink orders, you find yourself occasionally slipping back into your head, wondering if it was maybe time for a change. You’d been working here since you were 18. Starting a new job and your first day of college on the same day. That was two years ago, now there were lots of other places you could go to work that were still really close to campus and your student provided apartment complex. Maybe tonight I should stop and grab some applications before I go home, you ponder to yourself as you call out the name written on the cup you’d just finished. Of course deep down in your soul, you could feel that it wasn’t your job that was the problem.

Working at the coffee shop wasn’t the forever vision but for right now it provided an escape. Mental and physical. You’d been here long enough that now you can make all the drinks and package the orders in your sleep. That left your mind free to wander and this setting provided the perfect backdrop for losing yourself in countless fantasies. For a few hours with every shift, there’s no rent, no school, no pressure from your family to perform to their high standards, only you and your wildest daydreams.

Some days you couldn’t even stay in your apartment. Often finding yourself walking the very short distance across the street and returning to the coffee shop to work on your seemingly endless waterfall of homework.

You and your best friend from high school were both attending classes for nursing. Hawkins Community College was but the first step in the years of schooling required for your chosen profession. You find yourself cringing at the word chosen. Letting your mind wander down a dangerous path, questioning your 20 years worth of life choices that had landed you in your current place, when a hand touches your shoulder.

“Hey! Space cadet, your shift ended 10 minutes ago, head home!” the friendly voice of your shift manager broke the thoughts you’d been having while mindlessly wiping down the counter.

“Oh yeah it did,” you laugh a little while grabbing your backpack from the break room, “Guess I’m more tired than I thought. I’ll see you tomorrow!” You wave good evening to your coworkers and head out.

Hawkins, Indiana has to be the world’s most unremarkable city. Rows and rows of suburban America houses. A modest main street with the small town feel of a local grocery store, library, and bank. Speckled with modern touches including the new student center. To meet the demands of the growing student population the city council voted to demolish an abandoned trailer park and build the housing complex that you now call home. The shopping center across the street came a few years later. From the outside it seems like a growing community but you, being a local, can see that it’s still just a crappy town with a populous stuck in the past. No this is definitely not your forever home.

Your days drag on in an endless cycle of surmounting monotony. Each one leaves you with more longing for something more than the day before. At least you have the March break to look forward to after classes today. A full week of trips to the mall, swimming in the lake, and even a night of fantasy with a small group of friends. Whom you finally convinced to play your weird nerd game.

Your adventures begin the following morning and continue all throughout the week. All leading up to the dungeons and dragons session you’re planning for your friends on Thursday. You packed up your books, mini figures, and dungeon master notebook, then headed to the library.

Your friends all watch you as you begin setting things up at the large wooden study table once everyone arrives. They’ve always accepted you for being a little nerdy but until now you’d never been able to actually play with anyone. For the first time in a long time your heart was excited!

“So,” one of them muses holding a small plastic fighter, “This game is played with our imaginations?”

“And dice,” you point to a large communal pile of colorful polyhedral shapes in the center of the table, “Everyone ready?”

You’d always loved telling stories and this provided a great platform to do just that. Your maiden voyage as a dungeon master was far from perfect but you’d never had more fun. Watching your friends and players get more and more excited as the night went on was the best part. As things were packed up they all began asking when they could play again. You felt a lifting in your heart.

“My classes start up again on Monday but maybe if we can make it work with everyone I’d love to make this a weekly event!” you smile brightly and that smile stays on your lips the entire way back to your apartment.

The click of the lock on your door feels light and refreshing as you lose yourself in this renewed energy! This has been one of the only times that you’ve felt like yourself in a very long time. You’re riding such a high that you decide to journal tonight, something you stopped doing around the time your college courses started.

Tossing the backpack on the couch and heading to your bedroom just moments after getting back. You pull out your spiral journal and pouch of colorful pens as you lay out on your bed and write about your night’s adventures with a big grin on your face.

After chronicling the epic moments from tonight’s battle, the topic of your words turn more personal and reflective.

If anything tonight made what I’ve been feeling worse! It was as thought someone handed me a piece of cheesecake and took it away after just one bite and told me I could finish the dessert next week! When will it get better? I did everything that they told me to! I got good grades, graduated high school with honors, and went to college. And for what?

You stared at the page. The tip of your sparkly purple gel pen hovering over the line. Your lungs heaved in a deep sigh.

I’m miserable. I want more. I need more– SPLAT!

From out of nowhere a large glob of…well something thick and sticky fell onto your notebook hiding your words and covering your hand. Your eyes burst wide open and slowly you lift your hand up, inspecting the goo. It looks like thick black jelly. You scrunch your nose up at it with a disgusted look. There must be something on my ceiling, that’s the only direction it makes sense for this substance to have come from. Your voice comes alive to the empty room with a disbelieving scoff at the thought that any part of this phenomenon makes sense. Finally, you push up and tilt your head back to look up at the ceiling above you. Your heart and all its connecting arteries seize up instantly with fear.

Where only moments ago, the bland drywall surface sat untouched, there was now a large circular blob of this same thick black jelly. Startled, you fall backwards and tumble from the bed. Eyes glued to the growing spot on your ceiling.

“Ow!” Rubbing a tender spot from where you fell before looking back up, “What the fuck?” you speak aloud. Somewhere your conscious mind thinks to scramble for the phone that sits plugged in beside your living room couch.

Panicked as you fumble out of the room and dial the landlord you keep looking back and forth, “Come on you lazy piece of shit pick up!” The line clicks and your words start pouring, “Mr. Clarke! This is unit 53, there’s black oil or sludge or something coming from– You’ve reached the office of Scott Clarke. I’m out of the office for spring break. All matters will be tended to in order of urgency starting on Monday.

“Shit!” you slam the phone down on the receiver and run back to see that the spot has grown. Curiosity gets the better of you and you get up on the bed to get a closer look. Standing with your bare feet in the soft blankets. You stand on the shaky surface, craning your neck upwards. Burning from beneath the darkness of the goo is a red light that resembles fire. It emanates outward as thought it’s beckoning you to reach out and touch it. Your hand slowly lifts up above your head. Reaching our farther and farther until… you scoff again, “This is insane. What am I doing?”

Getting off the bed you start packing an overnight bag because like hell you're sleeping in the same apartment as the weird creepy ceiling hole. Tossing things haphazardly into your bag and then finally heading to the bathroom to wash your hand off. It comes off easily enough and washes down the sink. A quick assessment to the areas of skin it touched shows no immediate signs of damage or irritation. Weirdly, it was just slimy and cold.

Running through a quick mental check you realize wait, “Shit, stupid landlord is out until Monday.” Letting out a sigh you decide to shower real fast before heading out to bunker down with your friend until this, whatever it is, goes away. Unable to avoid taking another peak in your room before though, crap it’s already bigger, I should hurry and get the fuck out of here.

Showering in record time, you redress and head right for the front door. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, gripping the handle ready to head out into the cold night air away from whatever supernatural being has taken up residence in your ceiling but… something stops you. Some unseen force blocks your path and ushers you back into your room for just one last look. CRACK!

Your footsteps quicken in that direction as you hear the ceiling start to split. Entering the room you see that the glowing red circle is no longer a circle but a wide crack with tentacle-like tendrils stretching out in every direction along the flat expanse. The area in the center is stretched thin with glowing red webs that resemble strands of spider silk. Your gaze is transfixed on the center of the crack, watching intently as the strands of webbing begin to pull and stretch out almost as if something is laying on the other side. The bend deepens. A crack within the center begins to form. It splits!

All at once, you fall backwards with a scream. Crashing to the floor as you watch mesmerized. Out from the crack falls a man! He lands on your bed with a hard shake. The journal you'd been writing in flies from the mattress on impact. Then almost as quickly as it started everything goes still. The red tendrils dangle from the crack like icicles. Everything is quiet.

You sit transfixed for a moment frozen to the floor. Afraid to move and risk waking yourself up from what is clearly a dream. Your breaths shudder and consume your throat from the inside out as you try to catch them. As you sit there looking up at your bed that only moments ago was empty and now lays the body of a man. You feel a hard pounding in your chest. An invisible string pulls you up from the floor by your heart, eyes unwavering from his face.

His eyes are closed and he’s bleeding from several different places including his neck and stomach. After a few agonizing minutes of staring at his still frame you see the tell tale rise in his chest indicating signs of life.

“Holy shit,” the words fall from your lips with a low, heavy hit to the floor before you spring into action. Running to the bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit and a warm wet cloth, you get to work.

Pulling the scissors from your kit you cut into his already torn shirt, removing both it and his vest from your way, assessing the severity of each wound. All the while remembering everything your mother and father had shown you and instilled into you from a young age about administering first aid. Having learned more from both of them together than the little bit of schooling you’d had on the subject.

Your body moves on its own in a hyper focused state. All thoughts of who this man is, where he came from, or how he came to be here are gone. For the briefest of seconds your eyes flick to his face. Even in this state he’s handsome. His soft features and curly hair make it hard to look back at what you were doing but something tells you having a living man from the weird ceiling hole is better than a dead one.

Once you’re able to clean his wounds and bandage them as best you could you realize it won’t be long before these bandages need to be redressed. You’ll need more supplies that you don’t have in the apartment. You don’t want to leave for fear that he might wake up or worse, so you opt to call for help.

A soft feminine voice hits your ear through the speaker, with a yawn, “Hello?”

“Hey it’s me, can you come over and bring like 3 more first aid kits. I could use a second pair of hands,” your eyes keep flicking between staring at the couch and back to your bedroom, “I-it’s not for me! I’m fine but I uh- I don’t really want to explain on the phone. Ok. Thanks! I’ll see you soon. Bye,”

Getting back to your room as fast as possible you checked to make sure everything still looked good, all the bandages were still in place so he must not have regained consciousness yet. You hold up his wrist and press your thumb into the soft skin. It’s faint but it’s there. A pulse. With a heavy heart you look over your work again and again before coming to the conclusion that at this moment there’s nothing else you can do. Expect to wait and hope that he wakes up.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #18+ content

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carbo-ships · 10 months

Text

Chapter XVIII

Beginning: Chapter I Previous: Chapter XVII

Ardis's first letter arrived within a week. Mountain, whose job it was to retrieve the mail every morning, typically delivered the clergy's letters to their respective offices and left the occasional fanmail for the ghouls in a pile in their common room. However, today he brought the angel's letter directly to the breakfast table. He didn't want to miss the look on Aether's face, and he was sure the others shared his sentiments. The sealed envelope was waiting for him at his seat when he arrived. He picked it up curiously, sending a quick glance to Mountain only to find him grinning ear to ear. When he silently read the return address – Shamayim Monastery – he grinned as well.

"What has you smiling like that?" Papa teased him.

Aether held up the letter. "I think it's from Ardis."

Bright smiles lit up around the table. "Well, go on!” Papa insisted. “Read it, then!"

Aether cleared his throat. "Dear Aether–"

That was as far as he could make it before Swiss started teasing him. "Her dearest, darling, Aether," the man cooed.

"Shut up!" Aether laughed. "Let me finish." He composed himself.

“Hello! I hope this letter reaches you well. This is my first time trying to send a letter from Heaven to Earth. I'm not entirely sure how it works, but my superiors have assured me that if you write to the return address, it will get to me. I miss you very much, and I hope that you, Papa, and the others are doing well. I'll be chatting with my superiors about what a good visitation schedule would be. They're very excited that I seem to be making good progress with you all, but I of course have other duties at my home here. Rest assured, I won't be long! Send Papa all my love, and I look forward to hearing from you soon. Love, Ardis."

Excited chatter erupted among the ghouls, delighted to hear that their favorite angel would be coming home.

"Love," Papa repeated quietly to Aether, elbowing him playfully.

Aether rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. "Yes, that’s how people end letters. You all are insufferable."

Papa chuckled, patting him on the back. "I'll have one of the siblings get you some stationery. Since she'll be visiting more frequently, shall I arrange a guest room for her?" he offered with a grin, already knowing what Aether's answer would be.

"Don't you dare," Aether laughed. "Ardis is staying with me. If I don't get that angel back in my arms, I'll lose my mind."

"If she gets sick of him, she can always bunk with me instead," Swiss offered, winking at Aether.

"Oh, please," Papa scoffed at Swiss's suggestion, "as if she'd turn to you first."

Aether gawked at them. "She's my girlfriend! She's not bunking with either of you!" The other ghouls laughed at Aether’s sudden surge of posessiveness. They never tired of making him lose his cool.

New stationery for Aether arrived the following evening, and he wasted no time in writing his response.

My dearest angel,

It’s so good to hear from you. It’s my understanding that Papa has told you quite a bit more than he should have about my disposition following your initial departure, so I’m sure it will come as no surprise that I miss you terribly. I’m glad to hear you’ll be visiting more often. I can’t wait to have you by my side where you belong. Papa and Swiss are lurking over my shoulder as I write this and insist I send you their love. Researsals are going well, although everyone misses that sweet little voice of yours – especially me. You’ve made such an impact here that nothing feels quite right now that you’re gone. I look forward to your return.

Yours,

Aether

After chastising Aether for not being brave enough to sign his note with “love”, Papa saw to it that the letter was mailed immediately. Four days later, her response was waiting for him at breakfast once more. The ghouls again insisted that he read her letter aloud.

“Dear Aether, I’m so glad you received my letter! I miss you, too. More than you know. I’ve chatted with my superiors (who say ‘hello’) and they’ve suggested having me spend the night every other Friday. Does that work for you and Papa? Let me know! I should also mention that I’ve broken the news to them that you and I are dating, because I think it’s important to be transparent in our strange little situation. I was expecting them to be a little upset, but they’ve been very supportive! They certainly see why I’m so eager to see you. Love, Ardis.”

A teasing "aww" erupted through the room and Aether fought to ignore it. He turned to Papa. “So, she’d visit every other Friday and crash here,” he repeated. “Is that alright?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he nodded. “Have her tell her superiors that’s fine with me.”

Angel of mine,

Yes, every other Friday is perfect. I’ve run it by Papa, and the arrangement has his enthusiastic approval. Speaking of approval, I’m relieved to hear your superiors aren’t entirely opposed to us being together. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to convince them that a ghoul can treat you right. I’ll work hard to gain their trust. Let us know the date we should first expect you. Papa will want to celebrate your return properly. You know how much that man loves you. I’ll clean out a drawer for you in the meantime. Feel free to leave a few changes of clothes, pajamas, toothbrush, etc. here with me.

Yours,

Aether

Next: Chapter XIX

#carbo writes #should i offer f/o stationery to moots in exchange for something #is that sumn yall would want #do those handwritings look different enough?? did i trick u by using a different pen???????

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tofueggnoodles · 2 years

Text

Summary: As he reads through his diary, Hakkai reminisces about his days on the road. By the end of his reminiscence, his bitter-sweet feeling turns into resentment....

---

(Crackling fire and howling wolf.)

(Growling stomach.)

Goku: Jeez, I’m hungry!

Gojyo: I would have come by a good drink and a bed by now, if a certain midget monkey had not caused a delay by chasing after a wild boar!

Goku: You were the one who let the boar get away after getting knocked down by it! Why couldn’t you have caught it?

Gojyo: How did you expect me to catch such a thing bare-handed?

Sanzo: Moreover, we fell down the cliff. It was definitely a waste of time.

Gojyo: Hah? For your information, you’re the number one reason we did not make it to a town today!

Sanzo: What did you just say?

Gojyo: If you had not misread the map and caused us to lose our way, we would have arrived at our destination already!

Sanzo: If that’s the case, maybe it’d have been better if you’d read the map yourself! A useless kappa shouldn’t be grumbling tediously.

Hakkai: That’s enough! I understand why everyone is annoyed. The circumstance is not going to change whether we like it or not. **

(Sanzo grunts. Goku groans.)

Gojyo: Tch.

Hakkai: In the first place, this journey has hardly gone according to schedule. Stop this meaningless fight. For tomorrow’s sake, let’s go to sleep soon.

Sanzo: Hmm. As far following the schedule goes, this journey is definitely far from a satisfactory one.

Gojyo: Heh. That’s my line.

Goku: Hakkai, we’ll get to eat for sure in town tomorrow, right?

Hakkai: Yes. In order to ensure that, I’m checking the route in advance.

---

(More sounds of howling wolves and crackling fire. Sanzo, Goku and Gojyo snore. Hakkai packs up their stuff.)

Hakkai: Let’s see. I’ve checked the route. Hmm, emergency rations... seems like I’ll have to pack most of them later. It’d be certainly great if we could reach a town tomorrow without problems. That’s quite a load I’ve put on you, but I’ll be relying on you, Jeep.

Jeep: Kyuu!

Hakkai (sighs): Even so, whenever Sanzo and Goku open their mouths, it’s only to complain about the journey, isn’t it? To me, it’s an enjoyable journey in its way. Don’t you think so, Jeep?

Jeep: Kyuu!

(Hakkai chuckles. He drops something and picks it up.)

Jeep: Kyuu?

Hakkai: Ah, this is my diary. I write down my thoughts and events that happen during our journey in it.

Hakkai (flips through the pages and chuckles): Once in a while, I read back what I’ve written and look back in nostalgia.... (flips through a few more pages) Ah, look, this day – you remember it too, don’t you, Jeep? Just like today, we didn’t manage to arrive at an inn, so we camped out in the mountains.

---

(Flashback begins.)

Goku: Hakkai, are we not there yet? I’m hungry!

Hakkai: Sorry. Please put up with it for a while longer.

Gojyo: It’s been three days since we left the previous town! I’ve had enough of traveling through these mountain roads!

(Jeep speeds up.)

Gojyo (coughs): Some gravels got into my mouth! Hakkai, water!

Hakkai: If you want water, there’s a flask in the back.

Sanzo: I’ve run out of cigarettes. Where’s the stock, Hakkai?

Hakkai: If it’s cigarettes you want, aren’t there more in the glove compartment? How should I put it, you guys... can’t you see that I’m trying my best to drive? Please don’t speak too much to me, it’s dangerous. We might fall down a cliff.

Gojyo: Okie-dokie. Eh, flask, flask. Ah, here it is. (Drinks and spits something out.) It’s sweet! What is this?

Goku: Wah! That’s my sweet red-bean soup! Don’t just go and drink it as you please!

Gojyo: Sweet red-bean soup? Who puts such a thing in a flask? Oi, Hakkai, get rid of this and fill the flask with water!

Goku: Don’t joke with me! Give it back!

(Goku and Gojyo fight over the flask.)

Sanzo: Oi, you guys. Cut it out!

Hakkai: Please don’t push! It’s dangerous!

(He brakes. Or tries to. They all yell as they fall off the road.)

(Sounds of falling rocks.)

Hakkai (groans): Is everyone all right?

Goku: It hurts!

Gojyo: Crap! I really thought we were going to die.

Sanzo (cocks his gun): Now more than ever, die! (shoots)

(Goku and Gojyo shout.)

(Flashback ends.)

---

Hakkai (laughs): Even long after that, Sanzo’s wrath did not readily subside. In the end, we spent a chilly night on an empty stomach, didn’t we?

Jeep (sadly): Kyuu.

Hakkai: Oh, speaking about empty stomach, there was that time when we didn’t have enough money to buy food, wasn’t it? (flips through the pages) Ah, I found the entry! It’s this day. The credit card was not accepted in the town we stopped in. It was a tough situation.

---

(Flashback begins.)

Gojyo: Hah? The card is not accepted?

Hakkai: Yes. We can only use the one-thousand yen of cash we have in hand.

Goku: Then, what about dinner? What about the between-meal snack? What about the midnight supper?

Sanzo: Cigarettes....

Gojyo: What about alcohol?

Hakkai: You’ll have to do without such indulgences. For now, I can probably cook something up for dinner.

Gojyo: Can you? With just one-thousand yen, for four people?

Sanzo: It’s probably impossible.

Hakkai: I can. I’m handing the money over to you three, so please go and buy the items I’m going to list. All right, here they are: potatoes, carrots, onions.... I was about to go with rice, but let’s make it bread this time. In addition, curry sauce.

Goku: Yay! We’re gonna have curry!

Hakkai: A thousand yen should be enough. I’m going to build a fire in the open ground over there while I wait for you guys.

---

Hakkai (blows over the fire to kindle it): All right. This heat level should do it.

Goku: We’re back!

Hakkai: Welcome back. Thank you for doing the shopping.

Gojyo (guilty voice): Uh. Sorry. We could get only these. (Hands over something in a plastic bag.)

Hakkai (rummages through the bag): Just the carrots? You could get only these with a thousand yen?

Gojyo: Yeah.

Hakkai: A thousand yen should have been more than enough for all of the items. Could it be that prices are generally higher in this town? Ah. Goku, something’s stuck on the corner of your mouth. Was the meat bun delicious?

Goku: Yeah! It was very good!

Gojyo: Idiot! I told you to say nothing about it!

Hakkai: What’s the meaning of this? Say, Gojyo, your face looks strangely red, doesn’t it? Could it be that you stopped somewhere to have a drink?

Gojyo: Certainly not! Right, Sanzo?

Sanzo: I know nothing.

Gojyo: Oi!

Hakkai (steps closer to Sanzo and sniffs at him): You reek of cigarettes. Sanzo, you bought cigarettes, didn’t you?

Sanzo: Tch.

Hakkai: Even after I told you guys to do without such indulgences! What on earth are you all thinking?

(Flashback ends.)

---

Hakkai (sighs): In the end, we ended up with no dinner that night. Truly, these guys just behave as they please, leaving the chores to me. And what sort of awful chores some of those turned out to be at one time. If I remember correctly, that incident would be... (flips through the pages)

---

(Flashback begins.)

(Sounds of something being cut up on a chopping board.)

Gojyo: Ah, what a bother!

Sanzo: Why do I have to do the cooking?

Hakkai: The losers have to do what the winner tells them to. That’s the condition you guys agreed to for our game of poker, right? It’s a great opportunity for you guys to learn how to cook, since you usually leave the cooking solely to me.

Goku: Where’s the cabbage? The cabbage?

(Sounds of knife hitting something.)

Gojyo: Hey! Don’t wander around carelessly while holding a knife!

Goku: Ah, found it! (puts the cabbage on the chopping board) First of all, I just need to cut this up, right? One, two, three! (loud sound of something being cut up) All right, it’s cut!

Gojyo: You’re not supposed to cut up the chopping board! I guess it’s impossible for a monkey to master the delicate art of cooking.

Goku: You say that Gojyo, but can you really cook?

Gojyo: Hah. Just observe me. (chops away efficiently)

Goku: Eh! You’re really good!

Gojyo: A good guy can do everything.

Sanzo: Is that so? Then, ‘good guy’, I leave my dish to you.

Gojyo: Sure, leave it to me! No, don’t leave it to me! Make at least one dish yourself!

Gojyo: Oi, Goku! When it comes to sprinkling salt on the cabbage, you should do it more delicately. (demonstrates) Like this!

Goku: That’s unexpectedly meticulous of him.

Sanzo: Oi, I’m done. (puts down a plate) With this, you have no complains, right?

Gojyo: Tofu with topped with just soy sauce is not a dish!

(Flashback ends.)

---

Hakkai (flips through the pages): If I remember right, the dishes those three made were... ah, I wrote them down here: Goku made stir-fried vegetables topped with meat and salted cabbage, while Gojyo made jumbo pot stickers and fried chicken. Sanzo made chilled tofu. In the end, that was the only thing he came up with.

Jeep: Kyuu?

Hakkai: How did I find the dishes? They were surprisingly delicious. However, after we’d finished eating, when it was time for stuff such as cleaning up the kitchen or clearing the plates....

---

(Flashback resumes.)

Hakkai: What is this? Such a messy kitchen! You guys should have cleaned up bit by bit while cooking instead of letting the dirty equipment pile up.

Gojyo: We’ll clean up later. I don’t feel like moving now as my stomach is full.

Hakkai: Ah! If you don’t immediately rinse the dirty dishcloth with water, the stain will set in!

Sanzo: Later, okay? After I’m done with my after-meal smoke.

Hakkai: Where’s the lid of the salt container? If you don’t close the container right away, the salt will get soggy.

Goku: Eh? I must have put it down somewhere. I’ll look for it later, after I finish eating the ice-cream, okay?

Hakkai: “Later, later.” You guys have been saying that for a while, but until now, you’ve not moved a single muscle!

(Flashback ends.)

---

Hakkai: In the end, I did the cleaning up on my own. (sighs) Just now, I said this journey had been enjoyable in its way. Somehow, reading back on the entries in my diary, there does not seem to be any pleasing recollections at all.

Hakkai (flips through the pages roughly): Falling down a cliff thanks to Gojyo and Goku’s fighting; going without dinner thanks to them going off and just buying what they pleased; and finally, when I had them cook for a change, they made me do the cleaning up until late at night. I was the one who ended up suffering in every case! Even now, the situation is exactly the same. Complaining and then going to sleep and snoring with a happy expression on their faces! Leaving the night watch and the review of tomorrow’s route to me alone! Furthermore, please look around you!

Jeep: Kyuu?

Hakkai: Strewing their clothes around after taking them off! Leaving empty beer cans lying around like that! Tossing cigarette butts wherever they like! Who will clean up the mess? Me? No. From today on, this cannot go on any longer. Sanzo, Goku, Gojyo! Please wake up!

Gojyo: Eh?

Goku: What’s going on?

Sanzo: What is it?

(Sounds of rushing feet.)

Youkai: We’ve found you, Sanzo Ikkou!

Goku: Huh? Youkai?

Youkai: The sutra and your lives are ours for sure! Attack!

(Youkai shout and rush at the Ikkou.)

Hakkai (summons a ball of chi): Please do not get in my way.

(A youkai roars in pain.)

Youkai: You bastard! What are you doing all of a sudden?

Hakkai (hurls another ball of chi at the youkai): Really, what are you thinking?

Goku: Huh? Hakkai?

Gojyo: What on earth....

Hakkai: I can't go on like this! (decimates more youkai with his chi)

Hakkai: Don’t trouble those around you with your fighting! Spend money according to the plan! Clean up right away every time you make a mess! Fold your clothes! Don’t use empty cans as ashtrays! Why can’t you guys even do such simple things? (hits a youkai at the end of each sentence)

Gojyo: Oi... why is he getting so irritated?

Goku: How should I put it.... Maybe it’s us he’s pissed off at?

Gojyo: Eh? We’ve done nothing but sleep.

Sanzo: I don’t really get it, but it certainly looks like he’s lost his temper.

Hakkai: If you guys think I’m going to do everything for you, you’re making a big mistake! (throws one big ball of chi to the remaining youkai)

Goku and Gojyo: Scary!

Jeep: Kyu–Kyuuu!

---

(Sounds of birds chirping.)

Hakkai (moans and stretches): Eh? When did I....

Jeep: Kyu?

Hakkai: Ah, I must have fallen asleep in exhaustion after fighting off the youkai. Oh, that’s right, I’ve got to wake those three up soon.

Gojyo: Good morning!

Goku: Morning, Hakkai!

Hakkai: Eh? That’s rare, you guys waking up before I do.

Gojyo: Yeah....

Hakkai: Well then, let’s make preparations for our departure. The fire needs to be put out–

Goku: Already done!

Hakkai: Eh? Is that so? Then, let’s pack up our stuff–

Gojyo: Already packed up!

Hakkai: Eh? Ah, thank you very much. You two are so efficient.

Goku (in a low voice to Gojyo): Hakkai seems all right, doesn’t he?

Gojyo (whispers back): Yeah. But, we should keep on our toes! Pay meticulous attention to his mood!

Hakkai: Sanzo, about today’s route, I would like to replenish our water supply, so would it be fine to stop by the river? It would be quite a long detour, though.

Sanzo (blows out cigarette smoke): What a bother. I don’t want any delay–

Gojyo (cuts in hurriedly): I understand! The river, right? Supplies are important, after all.

Goku: Yeah! Let’s stop by the river!

Hakkai: Thank you very much.

Sanzo: Oi!

Gojyo: What are we gonna do if Hakkai flips out again like he did yesterday?

Sanzo: Tch! (blows out more smoke) Let’s go.

Goku: Sanzo, the cigarette butt!

Gojyo: Don’t just toss it out like that! Pick it up, pick it up! Ah, ah, it’s hot!

Hakkai: Hmm? What’s the matter?

Gojyo and Goku: No–nothing!

Hakkai: Is that so? Somehow, you guys seem oddly well-behaved today. Did something happen?

Goku: It’s because we’re always troubling you with chores, Hakkai. Right, Gojyo?

Gojyo: Yeah, right.

Hakkai: Please don’t be bothered by such things. Surprisingly, I like doing the chores anyway. If I don’t busy myself cleaning up after you guys like I always do, I’ll go out of my mind.

Gojyo and Goku: Eh? But....

Hakkai: Come on, let’s go! Today’s weather is perfect for driving.

Sanzo: That’s how it is.

Gojyo and Goku: I don’t understand....

--------

Round brackets: actions and sound effects. Double asterisks: Stuff I am not sure with. Suggestions for improvements and corrections are more than welcome.

#saiyuki drama cd #saiyuki #最遊記 #translation #cho hakkai

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weekend-whip · 2 years

Note

Olivia + D

D. Subtle Kindness (Cracked!Legacyverse, prolly Season 2, but takes place post Jay’s True Potential at the very least...anyway you know what’s up @k1ngtok1 )

(Prompt List)

. . .

Jamie frowns upon opening their locker, suddenly assailed by an avalanche of wadded up papers, crumpled garbage, and other assorted bits and ends. It’s not the first time this has happened this week—or today—and Jamie has very good reason to believe it won’t be the last either. Jamie bends down, before some hall monitor—or Zane—tries to pin this tsunami of trash on him.

One of the pieces become slightly unfolded in Jamie’s grip. Peeling it back, their eyes widen as they scan across the words hastily scribbled within.

“Loser” “Stupid Hair” “Lose the Hoodie” “Weenie” “Get Lost” “You suck”

.......It’s nothing Jamie isn’t familiar with; these types of notes have been common ever since he transferred to Ninjago City High, slipped through the cracks of the locker in between classes or before school. The messages have never been very creative, nor particularly volatile. Easy enough to ignore...

But, the abundance of them lately is starting to become...annoying.

Jamie sighs and continues to delegate their time to clean up duty. The halls have otherwise emptied out due to the next class starting, and yet an all-too familiar telltale clicking of heeled boots approaches them from behind. The fact Jamie already knows who it is despite not even looking is a huge indicator that she’s been hanging around him too much.

“’ello, Space Cadet,” Olivia greets with a smirk, skipping her way up to the kneeling Jamie.

“Hello...you,” Jamie replies lamely. So much for coming up with a snappy nickname on the spot; Jamie’s got no idea how Olivia manages to do it for everyone. Olivia snorts at the attempt. “What are you even doing here; class started a few minutes ago...”

“You say that as if the whims of the school’s schedule adhere to me.”

“They...do though?”

“Ignoring that, I could ask the same about you.”

She stops short just beside the pile of papers, leaning around Jamie’s frame to get a better look for herself. Jamie doesn’t even get the chance to explain anything before Olivia’s face is already torn with a scowl, shark teeth proudly on display.

“...tch, this looks like Chen’s handiwork, or some goon of his tryna get on his good side.” Olivia plucks a note off the floor, reads it in the span of a blink, then tosses it over her shoulder like the worthless debris it is. “Talk about a giant waste of time! Who’s the real loser here, huh?”

Jamie’s lips twitch in brief amusement, a hand flying over their face to hide it away. Olivia studies Jamie before huffing and folding her arms.

“...I’ve seen this before too, y’know. Used to have to listen to Nya complain about all the ways Chen would mess with Stormwaker before they started dating—”

“I thought he was Thundercracker?”

“Meh, same diff. Anyway...” Olivia picks up another note off the ground. Reading the word “Freak” on it, she snarls again and tears it to shreds. “...Chen and his people just target those they think are easy to prey on. If you’re gonna mess with someone, at least make sure they’re on your level!”

Jamie smirks again, hiding it behind his sleeve. “Is...is that why you bother Kai so much...?”

“Please! He only thinks he’s on my level!” Olivia stands confidently, hands on her hips. “I just happen to think he’s fun to mess with. You could say ‘ah, cloudy weather we’re having’ and he’d take it as an offense!”

Jamie breaks—a single, sharp pearl of laughter bursts out of him, with a half-snort escaping just as he clamps his hands over his mouth. Olivia pauses, a little bit endeared by the sound, before she laughs too.

“Heh, mission accomplished; I have cheered you up!” Olivia triumphantly pumps her fists. Jamie finally stands up again, unable to even look at Olivia now. They turn back to the note pile, beginning to frown—

“No, NO!” Olivia steps between Jamie and the pile, jabbing a finger into their chest. Jamie freezes beneath the contact. “I can hear you thinking! Don’t even give those notes a second thought...unless, of course, you’d like me to rough Chen up a bit for ya? I’ve got nothing to lose, really.”

“N-No, please, don’t do that,” Jamie insists, looking everywhere but forward. Olivia tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.

“You suuuuuuure? It’s not like I needed a fresh reason to want to kill him, but-”

“No, it’s fine!” Jamie gently nudges her away–something plucks within him–and gathers the rest of the papers, hurriedly tossing them in the garbage. “It’s like you said, it’s not worth wasting time on anyway...and we don’t even know if it’s actually him, and...”

Jamie stares into the trash can, digging their fingers into their palms.

“It...doesn’t bug me, anyway.”

Jamie returns to their locker, snagging the book that incited this whole incident to begin with, and gives Olivia a parting wave.

“A-Anyway, thanks for trying to look out for me, but it’s okay! I should really be getting to class...! See you later, right?”

“Yeah–” Jamie spins on their heel and takes off down the hall probably faster than necessary, leaving Olivia gawking after him. “–see you later? Hmph.”

She turns back towards Jamie’s locker...which hadn’t been properly locked in their haste to leave.

. . .

Jamie spends the next class with earbuds discreetly playing the most distracting music in their playlist, hoodie over their head and trying to drown out all bad thoughts. The notes themselves couldn’t bug him...but the sheer amount of them, and the fact that someone had to deliberately go out of their way to cram all of them in there...

Is Jamie really that terrible of a person to warrant that? What did they do to deserve that? Had they done something wrong at some point?

...and moreover, Jamie had pushed Olivia away, even when she was just trying to reassure him (in her own abrasive, coarse, yet genuine way). She’s probably ticked off about it now, and then she’ll avoid Jamie, and then she won’t talk to Jamie anymore, and then she won’t want to be his...friend? Associate? Acquaintance? Jamie still hasn’t quite put a label on what they are yet, but...what he does know is that life would be far more quiet without her. And the deafening silence of space is already plenty enough to deal with.

When Jamie makes the next trip to their locker, their stomach plummets at the sight of the door threatening to burst with the utterly ridiculous amount of paper peeking out of it. A few students pass by heckling at the display and Jamie’s chest tightens—more terribly written notes? But why? How? And...actually, when did they have the time, in the past hour?

A bit skeptic now, Jamie carefully opens the locker...only to be buried under a mountain of tree byproduct. Instead of crumpled scraps and the occasional piece of trash, however, all the notes are on different colored pieces of paper, written neatly as opposed to hasty hatred. With a shaky hand, Jamie picks up the nearest one and pries it open.

“You’re cute.”

And immediately, as fast as their face goes red, Jamie’s heart threatens to explode.

One by one, Jamie opens more notes, each one more incredulous than the last:

“You have great taste in music! (Now give me your playlist like yesterday)”

“You look like a cubist painting (and I could pin you to a wall)”

“HUNK >:3″

“Your hoodie looks comfortable (and I would like to wear it)”

“You’re always thoughtful (now keep me in your thoughts!)”

“STUD >:3″

“You are great at giving gifts (and you should totally give me one sometime! <3)″

“Your hair is wild (in the best way possible)”

“You always try your best (and that’s coming from the best there ever was!)”

“Have you noticed that I always smile when I see you?”

“Brilliant as a Dying Star!” “Possessing a Kindness More Vast than the Cosmos!” “Eyes that could put the Sun to Shame!” “You could Fill the galaxy with Your Light!”

“A smile like a black hole—stops everything cold in their tracks upon reaching the event horizon, unable to ever look away from” “I want to create a constellation from every time you laugh!” “Your smile, like an eclipse, always hiding when it’s at its brightest...” “I just really like when you smile sue me.”

“...wait, how many times did I compliment your smile already? Shit.”

“Okay I’m running out of sappy things to say but i gotta fill this whole thing so uhhhhhh I’mma just ramble some random shit and hope it makes you laugh.”

“Potatoes.” “Popgun.” “Shark.” “Poodle.” “Noodle.” “Shark.” “Planets.” “Popcorn.” “Pretzels.” “Wow I guess I shouldn’t have skipped lunch.” “Shark.” “Ocean.” “Monkeybutter.” “Boo.” “Loopyshoopy whoo.” “Shark Again: the Sharkening.” “By the Master why is this so HARD?!” “BAMBOO!”

...Jamie’s an utter mess at this point, tears building in his eyes, born from the laughter that roars from their chest and from just how moved he is by the insane gesture. They don’t know how long they stay on the floor, delicately unfolding and refolding each piece of paper with the plans to keep them forever, until they make a nice neat stack on the floor of the locker. By the time Jamie sorts through them all, and keeps the last one clenched in hand...they fill up all the empty space left behind, save for Jamie’s backpack.

“I put enough in there so that no one could ever stuff another bad note in there again.”

The telltale clicking of Olivia’s boots ring out again, but this time she keeps her distance, leaning against the nearest wall as she assesses Jamie.

“And knowing how sentimental you are, there’s no way you would take them out either. You’re welcome!”

Jamie just stares at Olivia for a second in all her bewildering glory, for a moment finding it hard to believe that such a subtle act of kindness could come from her...and yet, only something this bizarre could ever come from her anyway.

“You...” Jamie wipes a sleeve across their eyes, one last disbelieving chuckle leaking out. “...have to be the most insane person I have ever met.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Olivia declares with a shrug. She then sinks a bit, worried for their reaction. “Did you—I mean, was this...really, really cheesy?”

Quietly, Jamie takes the final note in their hand and rereads it once again. There’s no randomness, no flirty undertones, no silly pick up lines, no side notes, no good-natured sarcasm...

Just the truth, the very thing that brought them together in the first place.

“I like it when you’re happy.”

“...very much so,” Jamie finally replies, feeling their Heartstrings growing thicker. “And I love it.”

Jamie smiles, unashamed and unabashed, which in turn makes Olivia smile too.

#ninjago #ninjago ocs #oc: olivia omar #guest oc: jamie myers #fic tag #my stuff #finalfrontiershipping #remember that small discussion an eon ago #where olivia was giving jamie notes or something? yeah! yeah.....#except nothing she ever does is subtle soooo

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electronicstarlightfestival · 2 years

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I’ve been thinking about this platform as being the best one to continue blogging, so I’ll be posting again about my attempts to fix my lifestyle and myself while being clinically depressed and trying to deal with newly diagnosed OCD through studies, sports, and planning (doubtfully but hopefully). It's better to start doing something once you get an urge, even if there’s a chance you'll drop out, because what if you accidentally manage to develop some working method that will stay?

Pinterest aesthetics have an influence on me and I get inspired or even obsessed with new ideas (I am not proud of it, but at least I can turn it into something useful?). So, despite not being a girl, I got into this "that girl" lifestyle because I wanted to love myself, shape myself and strive for something since I completely lost any passion or desires. Those aesthetics help me see goals and ways to reach them clearer, so it is helpful to follow what the people within the community do.I struggled with an eating disorder when I was a teenager, so the only strategy is not to fall into it again this time. I really want to keep my diet and body healthy.

I have already had two very productive trips to the gym in a row in recent days, and I remembered that sport actually IS enjoyable for me; I am just too lazy to put in the effort and time. However, I've got a possibility to go to the gym for free right now, so I hope that it will take away the pressure. Let’s see how it goes.

My studies are currently extremely difficult for me. I even seem to replace the time I could spend on it to go to the gym, also leaving all my energy there. I'm not sure how to explain why I can't carry on my studies, even though it sounds so simple: just sit down and study! But I can't concentrate and I can't control myself at all, so I hope that going through it with help of a blog could help.

My schedule today was kinda like this:

7:00 woke up 7:00 - 7:20 cooking breakfast (that’s a new habit I’m trying to keep already for 2 weeks!) 7:20 - 7:40 eating and reading 7:40 - 8:00 getting ready for school

9:15 - 11:30 at uni

13:00 - 15:00 gym

And then I didn't do aaaaanything productive nor useful at home except cooking dinner and journaling. I won't go to the gym tomorrow because my presentation is due by Friday at 2 pm and I have yet to begin working on it, so I will have to stay after lectures at the school library and study really hard unless I’ll be screwed.

I hope my tomorrow’s schedule will look like:

7:00 - 8:00 same routine 9:15 - 14:00 (very approximate ending time) uni 14:00 - 15:00 lunch? 15:00 - 21:00 making presentation slides

I really don't have that much time left for the presentation and I think it will result in pulling an all-nighter but thankfully it is just a draft. And I have to buy new sweatpants since mine are practically a waste.

P.S. I could've spent the time I spent writing this post on making the presentation, but I didn't.

P.P.S. I was never good with day planning and can only analyse the day after it has already passed, otherwise lists and plans are making me nervous.

#that girl #daily diary #ocd #fighting depression #i'm procrastinating #studying

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ulircursed · 2 years

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Brigid wants to say coming across him at the training grounds is a surprise, especially considering the last time they both found themselves here. But on some level, she expected it. Expected to see his face at some point. Ever since she woke up, knowledge of the day tugged and nagged at her mind.

Andrei's birthday.

Edain had mentioned it, though Brigid had never truly forgotten it. The protectiveness she once felt over her crybaby brother, the small cries of 'Lady Sishter' as he followed behind Brigid and Edain in the grand halls of Yngvi's manor―though faint, memories of that distant childhood were more prevalent today than any other.

...What a bother.

The thunk of an arrow striking a target echoes in the distance, and she lingers near the training hall's entrance, a hand running through her hair.

The last time she attempted civility, the man damn near tripped over his own feet to run away from her. And it wasn't as if she was willing to simply forget everything that transpired between them, to swallow it all and smile as if they were the family they had been all those years ago.

But she had come to train, and she wouldn't waste her time running or hiding from him―no matter how awkward the ordeal, Brigid would face it with her head held high. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

(Pirates. So many lost years. A stain upon family, upon Ullr's honor―)

Nothing.

She pulls out her bow (not Yewfelle, she wouldn't debase such a holy weapon on simple training drills), and nocks an arrow where she stands, aiming it at the target positioned next to his. With a whir and a satisfying thunk, she strikes the bullseye, announcing her presence in a way only a Yngvi can.

"Don't mind me." Brigid says as she steps deeper into the training hall, prepping her gear for a few more practice shots. "Keep going. I'm just here to train, like anyone else. Not trying to run you off, not here for a fight... not today." She draws an arrow, mumbling. "Even I'm not that cruel."

Several rounds in, his arm has yet to show signs of pain. The tautness of the new bowstring begins to feel natural after dozens and dozens of shots, and standing in the now torchlit grounds, Andrei allows himself a brief moment of respite.

Edain’s bow is as well made as it had seemed at a glance, with a steady draw that allows for the arrow’s smooth trajectory. While it is hardly the most powerful bow, there is something almost comfortable, in making use of it. Perhaps it is the natural inclination of a healer’s hands, or perhaps... because it is for him. Andrei doesn’t attempt to make his guesses.

One more round, he decides, before fingers pause on the bowstring at the sound of footfalls behind him. Today’s impromptu training session is later than his usual plans, and it’s entirely possible those at the monastery who had finished an early dinner might be headed out to make use of the grounds. The internal debate of whether it would be more prudent to depart from the training grounds had barely begun formulating in his mind when an arrow flies past, and his head whirls around at the sudden movement.

Ah.

If he already hadn’t expected anything of Edain, it would be an even greater shock if Brigid, of all people, takes note of the date. He moves to gather his things ― surely she would object to his presence ― when her words stop him in his tracks.

Not today. Did she mean...?

No, it couldn’t be. Why would she know, or care? The memory of their previous meeting is enough to tempt him to leave anyway. Not that she had followed to see him at his lowest, but the mere act of fleeing the scene like a coward is shaming enough. How much lower can he wear her opinion of him down, before she decides he is better off dead, once more, by her hand?

(Is that not what you’ve wanted? No, no―)

‘What I’ve always wanted...’

She had told him to keep going. Willing his fingers to stop shaking, Andrei plants his feet back into position, nocking the next arrow onto the bow and drawing back with an eye aimed on the target.

(A pair of hands guide his smaller ones, correcting his stance as he draws back the toy bow with characteristic solemnity. The guiding hands fall away, and he aims, all by himself, under her watchful gaze. He can’t mess this up, not for his Lady Sister!)

Some part of that sentiment, it seems, has never changed, even with the passing of years and the differing paths that they had taken. Andrei releases his arrow.

Thunk.

He lets out the breath he had been holding, lowering the bow as his gaze lingers on the arrow that had flown neatly into the center of the target. Despite himself, he finds himself sneaking a glance in Brigid’s direction.

‘I’ve gotten better at the bow again, Lady Sister.’

However uncertainly, however much he’s aware he no longer deserves it... he still holds onto that impossible wish. Perhaps, on this day of all days, the fates would allow him to take a small step closer to it.

#ulirblessed #thank you sadlkfjasdklf #if dm had told me to be cruel i'd have made him roll a d20 to see what he hits but dm was kind today :relieved:#disclaimer he just gets the one shot though; provided they do continue w this unspoken lil practice bout he will doubtlessly lose it #but getting one bullseye in front of brigid is a present enough for him... :')#also things i looked up for this reply: how many arrows shot per average training session; do new bows need a break-in period and how much #my answers (for him) are: 1) 120-150 or so; 2) yes and it takes about 100-200 arrows shot #so here he is boldly challenging his sister with a bow that's not even done being broken in yet ahaha

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sabineelectricheart · 1 year

Text

Cancelled Plans [Pt. 1]

Summary: Shelby blows Lynette off and feels guilty about it. He wonders why he has been doing that so often these days.

Rating: MA - Content is only suitable for mature adults. May contain explicit language and adult themes.

Words: 1383

Notes: I have done something similar the begining of the year, but I wanted to do it again.

The moment that Lynette appears in the doorway to his study, Shelby knows why she is there.

“I completely forgot.” He excused himself almost automatically. “I am sorry.”

A small, barely audible sigh escapes from between her lips and she straightens in the doorway of his spacious office. Her hands fall limply against her sides, and she curls her fingers, scratching the inside of her thumb gently. The small smile which graced her lips only moments ago, slowly fading away, and he cannot help but feel bad for dampening her night, even if he is sure that she will have a better time alone.

“I thought we…” The psychologist begins to say something, but stops as soon as he looks at her through his eyelashes. “Well, never mind. I think you’re not going again.”

Lynette is wearing her long, silk pyjama bottoms and a simple top, but he can tell that she has only just begun getting ready, and for a moment, he imagines how his platinum blond hair would feel under her fingertips. He is selfish enough to desire that she just drop whatever she has to do tonight and waits for him to be finished in their bedroom.

Alas, Shelby is not that shameless. His wife wants to go out, then she should go out. He is the one at fault, so he is not about to make any demands. He, instead, lifts one of the folders and opens it, brows furrowing as he skims the front page.

“I know, Lynette, I am sorry. Again. It’s just… I have so much to do before my meeting on Monday, and if I don’t finish it all today, I won’t be able to rest properly on Sunday.” He reasons, but realises that his voice sounds too disinterested, so he looks up at her with a smile. “We can go out next week. Just the two of us? I’ll book us a table as soon as I am done here, I promise.”

His wife smiles back, but he can tell that she is not happy with his answer.

“It’s okay, Shelby.” She whispers looking down before stepping back a little. “I think I’ll go alone, then, since I’ve bought the dress and all. Is it okay if I give your ticket away?”

“Sure. No reason for wasting it.” He agreed.

The woman shook her head tersely. “OK, then. I’ll leave you to it.”

Nodding once, Shelby gazes back at the complete chaos of papers in front of him. Statistics, performance files and his own notes, collected over the past few weeks. He can tell that she is still watching him, the soft whiff of her perfume giving her away, but he says nothing and she only sighs softly before turning around and disappearing from his sight.

Leaning back in his chair, he runs both of his hands across his face as he stares at the doorway, and the spot where she stood just a few seconds ago. Only when she is gone, he dares to look up.

Without her disappointed gaze, the feeling of immense guilt may evade his body. The dread, however, remains. He has been there before, many times, and he wonders how many times he can use that excuse until Lynette is done with him.

A frown creases on his forehead as he rewinds the memory, realising that he might have hurt her with his behaviour, more than was already inevitable in the first place.

He finds himself leaning forward, elbows resting on his desk as he wraps his hands around the nape of his neck. He managed to make that woman both his wife and his secretary, and he counts that as his greatest achievements. He is proud of her, proud of himself, and he wishes for nothing more than to preserve the sort of relation that they had, supportive and understanding.

However, he also came to learn that relationships, patient and working as they are, also need time and sacrifice, and he has been remiss on that front for a while now. Especially considering that she will be faced with Gill, the figure of dedicated love, most of the evening.

She had been planning the evening for quite some time, at times overly excited about it, and so it was more than just a little disappointing to have him blow her off that callously. It was nothing too special, it was just a simple night out with some of her friends. They were going to a theatre play first and then a couple of drinks afterwards at her favourite wine bar. They might stop by for a bite to eat if the mood strikes, she had mentioned.

Well, it is not any old play, Shelby thinks. He does not care much for musical theatre, but he thinks that it was special, somehow. She mentioned that Raul had went to a big deal of trouble to get them those tickets, and she had gushed so much over them. It had a value above money, and it was not something that she believed that he could source for her, that required some sort of special connection that he lacked.

“Do you like it?” Lynette had asked when she waltzed into their living room where he had been quietly reading a book in the armchair, as the sunlight poured into the room. “I probably have way too many dresses in the closet, but I couldn’t help myself! I’m so happy for those tickets, I just wanted to splurge a little, too!”

She had a bright smile on her face as she showed him the dress she had bought.

Simple, red dress that, just by looking at the piece of fabric in her hands, made Shelby want to have his way with her on every possible surface of their shared apartment.

Getting up slowly, he walks towards the large window before looking over the landscape in front of him as he sticks hands in the pockets of his trousers. His brain is raking over the possible reason as to why he had forgotten about their plans.

Deep down he knows the real answer, but he does not want it to slip out on the surface, afraid that she would not understand.

It was not the fact that he was no big fan of people prancing around the stage, even if he really was not. It was not the fact that he found her friends exhausting, both Gill and Claris, and whatever new friend that she managed to make since.

It was the fact that he was tired.

He is tired. He feels old and tired, and he does not want to cultivate their relationship through sacrifice anymore, and he does not want to reach for the sort of prestige that she can give him. He does not even bring her to business dinners anymore because he cannot stand how the men talk about how nice it must be having such a young daughter, and how difficult it is for him to keep up with her rhythm.

They always dismiss it, telling them that they are just joking when they throw a remark about their age difference, but if that was the case, then he was not a man of humour.

A hair that is whiter than it usually is. Young face against carved out lines, the ones he grew used to watching in the mirror.

“I wouldn’t be with you if I cared about our age difference, Shelby!” She had told him the first time he had voiced his worry. “Everybody ages, and I will be your age in the future. Why would I love you any less just because you reached birthdays I still haven’t?”

Shelby believes her, he believes her with all his heart, but still… Sometimes… He is a weak man, and he is jealous and angry.

“I am heading out!” Lynette calls out as she walks by the room, her voice mixing with the sound of her high-heels clicking against the parquet floor as her perfume fills his nostrils. “I’ll be back by eleven. There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry.”

He turns around on his heel, but has no time to respond before the entrance doors shut loudly, and he is left alone with his silence.

*_*_*_*_*

Cancelled Plans Masterlist

Cupid Parasite Masterlist

#cupid parasite #Shelby Snail

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aeoki · 2 months

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SS Finals - Melee: Chapter 1

Location: Inside Bus Characters: Tomoya, Hokuto, Keito, Eichi, Chiaki, Wataru & Natsume

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Fast-forward to New Year’s Eve. Day of the “SS” Finals. >

Wataru: ♪~♪~♪

The “SS” Finals have begun in a rather ordinary manner…☆

It’s the biggest festival of the mundane and precious idol industry – I wonder what sort of tragicomedy will unfold this year?

~......♪

Keito: …I sense an unpleasant presence above my head.

Eichi: Maybe it’s just God peering down?

Oh, foolish humans – why do you dance? Are you afraid to learn of God’s will? Hehe ♪

Keito: You’re in a surprisingly good mood, Eichi. Now is precisely the time to tighten the strap on your helmet and brace yourself, you know?

Eichi: Putting on a brave face also counts as being alive and well, Keito. Besides, it’s been a while since we last fought side by side together, so I’m happy.

Keito: That didn’t sound sincere at all. You’d have more fun fighting against me, wouldn’t you?

Eichi: I’ll let Sakuma-kun have that pleasure. He must be quite sad seeing as you two no longer have the chance to tussle it out with one another now that he has carelessly joined the same agency as you.

In any case, the “SS” Finals will begin and end today on New Year’s Eve.

We can’t waste our time – It might be sudden, but I’d like to get right into it. Any objections, unit leaders of the “Red Team”?

Hokuto: Yes, I have objections.

Natsume: You have objections every tiME. Putting that asiDE, who put you in charge, “EmperOR”?

Eichi: You don’t like that idea, Mr Magician Boy? Obviously, it would make more sense for Hokuto-kun, the previous winner of “SS” to be the leader of the “Red Team”.

But things couldn’t have been helped. The “SS” Administration Committee selected “fine” to be the “General Leader” of the “Red Team”.

I’m simply following orders.

Natsume: HmPH, how much did you pay to get that positiON?

Eichi: You make me sound like a horrible person. There are things you cannot buy with money in this world too, you know, Sakasaki-kun. For example, hmm, I can’t seem to think of any at the moment ♪

Besides, “Switch” is only allowed to participate in the Finals through improper means because you guys buttered up to the “SS” Administration Committee, no?

Even if we do have connections with the management, I don’t think you’re in any position to attack me like I’m some villain.

Natsume: Ever the smooth talker, I sEE.

And I’ll say this to protect our reputatiON, but we never “cheated” our way into the FinaLS.

We did “use” the management as a means to survive and as an investment for our future, thouGH.

The final amount of “SSL$” we possessed was more than enough for us to advance to the FinaLS.

Keito: The more you try to cover it up with excuses, the more fishy it sounds instead, Sakasaki.

Natsume: Oh? Were you trying to throw your dearest childhood friend a lifeliNE, you coldblooded Ex-Vice PresideNT? ♪

Keito: In my heart, I’m actually on your side, Sakasaki. I’m trying to say you shouldn’t disturb the peace by recklessly picking fights with people you don’t like.

We should be putting our heads together as the “Red Team” to come up with a thorough strategy to win.

Eichi: Yeah. That’s why I asked all of the unit leaders of the “Red Team” to meet up.

By the way, I’ve already checked if this bus has any bugs and I’ve also asked Wataru to keep watch on the roof just in case.

This bus has the blessed protection of an angel – Wataru will definitely not let anything suspicious in.

Keito: He’s the most suspicious here.

Hokuto: I agree with Hasumi-senpai for a change.

Tomoya: Ahaha. I’m just happy that the old members of last year’s Drama Club just happened to be all together, though.

Hokuto: Hehe. Hibiki-senpai is in a high place as usual too.

Eichi: (Good, good. I suppose it was the right move to place Wataru on the roof of the bus.)

(As long as there is the possibility that Natsume-kun’s “master”, who he loves and respects, is listening in, Hokuto and Tomoya-kun shouldn’t be able to do anything disgraceful, either.)

(Well, compared to the naughty children in the “White Team”... all the members of the “Red Team” seem rather docile.)

Chiaki: I wanna say something: I know everyone has their own opinions, but just as Hasumi said, I’d like us all to team up for the “Red Team’s” victory.

“One for all and all for one” – I don’t intend on pushing “RYUUSEITAI’s” way of doing things onto you guys here.

But “SS” should be a huge game that we – no, every idol – can’t skip out on.

Nothing good will come out of arguing and hurting our teammates – It’ll just end in regret.

Hokuto: …If that’s what you say, Morisawa-senpai.

Natsume: You surprisingly think quite highly of that oppressive upperclassman, huh, Hokke-kUN?

Hokuto: He took care of me during “Rain-bows”.

Tomoya: If that’s what Hokuto-senpai says, then you have all of “Ra*bits” support. We had those intentions from the beginning too, of course.

Eichi: Thank you.

If the leader of “Ra*bits” was still Nito-kun, then I’m sure he’d be endlessly shouting, “That doesn’t matter! I still hate your guts, Tenshouin!”

Tomoya: …Well, I’m not particularly fond of you either, just so you know.

Hokuto: What did you do to our Tomoya, Tenshouin-senpai? I won’t forgive you depending on what you say!

Eichi: Hehe. Did I ever tell you I was seeking your forgiveness?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#ss finals

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ruminativerabbi · 1 year

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Chatting with the Bot

ChatGPT has only been with us for a little less than three months, but it has already garnered far more interest—and more nervous criticism—than any earlier chatbot has so far managed to attract. (For the as-yet-uninitiated, a chatbot—also occasionally called a chatterbot—is basically a computer program that knows enough of human language, culture, history, and dialogic technique to participate in a conversation in convincing enough a way to appear to be a human interlocutor.) They’ve been around for a while, too: I wrote a Friday letter five years ago about the efforts of James Vlahos to create a chatbot programmed so successfully with his father’s speech patterns, vocabulary choices, grammatical usages, and idiosyncratic ways of expressing himself that it felt possible for Vlahos to have an actual conversation with his father long after the latter died. (To see that letter, click here. And for a very moving account of the whole project by James Vlahos himself, click here.) At the time, it seemed more amusing than sinister to me, like a kind of living memorial to a late parent that would be a huge advance over just watching that parent in a home movie and being unable personally to step into the action. But it didn’t seem to me as much more than that.

We’ve come a long ways since 2017. Yes, it’s still easy enough to know when you are talking to a machine when you try to phone a bank or an insurance company. And some of those machine-generated partners-in-dialogue actually do a fairly good job of assisting you if you are patient enough to let them do their thing. Still, no one doesn’t prefer to speak to an actual human being, I don’t think. Certainly, I myself do. But no amount of machine-generated robocalls or chatbot-based customer service offerings prepared me even slightly for ChatGPT.

You may have heard about it already. There was, for example, a very long story in the Times just the other day about how the advent of ChatGPT, the latest offering by OpenAI, has transformed the way at least some college courses are taught. (To Kalley Huang’s article, click here.) That in and of itself is pretty amazing, since ChatGPT has only been around since last November. But I was intrigued. It wasn’t until I actually signed on to the OpenAI website and engaged personally with ChatGPT, however, that I realized just how remarkable a door has now been opened to all who dare step across the threshold. So I write today to share some of the details of that specific journey I’ve been on the course of these last few days.

I’m sitting in my study at home on Reed Drive. Joan is at school; it’s just me here. My computer is open and I’ve logged onto the OpenAI site. I can’t decide if I’m being bold or silly in taking this on but I’m also slightly worried. What if the bot really is more capable of intelligent theorizing regarding Jewish law or thoughtful rumination regarding the literary heritage of ancient Judaism than I am? Do I really want to surrender my superior human status that easily to a fancy piece of software? Or would I be acting foolishly not to see for myself how this works? A lifetime ago, I remember snickering when a fellow student in grad school purchased a home computer upon which to write his dissertation and wondering what he can have been thinking by wasting such a huge sum of money on a glorified typewriter. I was a bit hasty in that evaluation, I now realize. So let’s not make the same mistake twice, I tell myself. And so, throwing caution to the wind, I begin.

I figure I might as well start off with some simple stuff.

I ask the bot for the name of Abraham’s father. And the answer comes back instantly:

Abraham's father was Terah.

So that’s easy enough. Who doesn’t know that? But the point here is not just to test the breadth of the program’s knowledge, but to see if it can think. Or appear to think. So let’s go more subtle.

Was Haman a wicked man? I ask. It’s not as simple a question as it sounds and, amazingly, the bot seizes the complexity behind what sounds at first blush like a very simple question.

Haman is a character in the Book of Esther in the Hebrew Bible. He is depicted as a wicked man and the prime antagonist of the story, who plots to exterminate the Jewish people.

I’m impressed. The bot recognizes that Haman is a character in a book, not a historical personality whose existence can be corroborated by scientific evidence. And it seems to realize that what we know of Haman derives directly from the way he is depicted in the Book of Esther. So the bot hedges its bets, calling him a character in a book and then answering my question with reference to the way he is depicted in that book rather than as a simple historical fact.

And now I’m ready to wade into more challenging terrain. So it knows a lot of stuff. But can it think? Or can it appear to think?

What, I now wonder, will it do when the question is by nature unanswerable. Is it justifiable, I now ask, to steal food to feed an infant that will not survive without that food?

This takes a few seconds (the other answers were instant), but the answer, I have to admit, is remarkable:

Stealing is generally considered to be morally and legally wrong. However, there may be some circumstances in which it could be considered justifiable to steal food to feed an infant in order to save the infant's life. This could be considered a form of "necessity defense," in which a person commits a crime because they believe it is necessary to prevent a greater harm. However, it's important to note that whether or not this would be considered a valid defense in a court of law would depend on the specific details of the situation and the laws of the jurisdiction in which the crime was committed.

It's worth mentioning that there is usually help available to those in need, in developed countries, there are many organizations that provide assistance to those facing food insecurity, and it may be possible to obtain food for the infant through these channels without resorting to theft.

Wow. I wonder what the bot would make of the storyline of Les Mis! (Could a chatbot even go to the theater? Where would it sit?) But the question isn’t only whimsical but also real: is the bot really thinking? It’s hard to say. The answer is intelligent, well-thought-out, reasonable. The bot knows the “simple” answer (i.e., stealing is wrong), but it seems able to weigh that thought against other principles in play (i.e., it can never be right to allow a child to die of hunger if you can prevent that from happening). And it did a pretty good job of weighing those principles against each other and coming up with a thoughtful, rational answer.

I wonder how it will do with questionable premises. Will it follow the question’s lead or challenge its fundamental basis?

If, I now type in, life begins with conception, is aborting a fetus no different than murdering a child? It’s a loaded question. Given the landscape in today’s America, it’s a very loaded question. But since I’ve formulated it as I did, will the bot “just” answer the question or will it attempt to nudge me off my premise?

It took almost half a minute to respond. But then it came up with this:

The question of when life begins is a deeply philosophical and moral one, and opinions on the matter can vary widely. Some people believe that life begins at conception, while others believe that it begins at some point later in pregnancy.

If one holds the belief that life begins at conception, then it could be argued that aborting a fetus is the same as killing a child. However, many people who hold this belief still believe that there are certain circumstances in which abortion may be morally justifiable, such as to save the life of the mother, in cases of rape or incest, or if the pregnancy is not viable.

On the other hand, others may disagree with the statement that life begins at conception and may argue that a fetus is not yet a person, and therefore not equivalent to a child. They may argue that a woman has the right to control her own body and make decisions about her pregnancy.

Ultimately, whether or not one considers abortion to be the same as murder is a matter of personal belief, and it is important to respect and consider the perspectives of those who may hold different views on this issue.

So that’s not a bad answer. If I were asked that precise question in my role as community rabbi, I think my answer would be similar. I’d agree that if the protasis (i.e., the “if” part of an “if/then” statement) is a given, then the apodosis (i.e., he “then” part) would also be correct. But I’d also hasten to point out that that the issue would only be a simple one if you could prove that the protasis were a simple truth and not the matter of intense controversy that it is in the world. And no one, at least so far, has determined definitively when life begins.

And then I think to wonder what the bot might have to say about the issue that concerns me the most in the world: the future of the Jewish people in a world of ever-mounting anti-Semitism. I type slowly, wondering if this is a good idea. But then I remind myself that I’m talking to a machine and I press the “submit” button. This one, it really has to think about. It ruminates for almost 90 seconds. But when it does respond, the answer is more encouraging than almost anything I’ve read on the topic lately.

It is difficult to predict the future, but it is likely that the Jewish people will continue to exist in the future. The Jewish people have a long history and a rich cultural heritage, and there are currently millions of Jews living around the world.

However, the Jewish people have faced significant challenges throughout history, including persecution and violence. Anti-Semitism still exist in some parts of the world and it is something that Jewish communities continue to confront.

The State of Israel, established in 1948, is the homeland of the Jewish people and it is a place where they can live in security and prosperity. The State of Israel is home to a large and vibrant Jewish community and it is likely that it will continue to be an important center of Jewish life in the future.

Overall, while it is impossible to know what the future holds, the Jewish people have a strong sense of community and history, and it is likely that they will continue to thrive and flourish in the years to come.

I’ll take it! And that concludes my AI session with ChatGPT. (By the way, the GPT part stands for Generative Pre-Trained Transformer, whatever that means exactly, and the AI in OpenAI stands for Artificial Intelligence.) Would you like to take it out for a spin? Just go to https://openai.com, then click on ChatGPT on the lower left corner of the screen. (You’ll have to scroll down a bit to get to the bottom.) And then you can ask away and see what comes back.

#ChatGPT #OpenAI

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