#it’s simply impossible for me to be concise

[yaksha-lover]

Hi! Maybe strange question but you seem to have a good grasp on the boys’ personalities. I’ve been reading a lot of the yanderification of the TWST boys and started wondering which ones (if any) would be most likely to have what could be labeled “yandere” tendencies. Just seems like a fun train of thought to chase.

Do you have any thoughts on this? (Also sorry for the word salad.)

In my opinion, I think it’s pretty easy to twist most of their personalities to fit a yandere type, but as for who’s yandere characterizations are closest to their canon counterparts, I would say:

Malleus, I think is the obvious one. Although clearly I don’t think he’d be yandere in canon, it makes sense for him to have some clingy tendencies in a relationship, and an obsession with his romantic interest. It’s the whole ‘you’re the only person in the world who matters to me’ type trope, because of the social rejection and isolation he’s faced.

People usually take it two ways here, either a) very possessive and jealous or b) very protective. I tend to lean towards the second interpretation (although I love to explore the first one, the second is more canon to me). More ‘I would burn cities to protect you, move heaven and earth to make you happy’ than ‘I want to keep you locked up here all to myself, you belong to me.’ So yes, a yandere Malleus may kidnap you, but only to keep you ‘safe.’ He’s also not as emotionally immature as I think he’s sometimes characterized as (although I’m probably also guilty of this). He’s not really the type to force someone to love him, imo, because he wants it to be genuine (his insecurity stems from an inability to be accepted so forcing it wouldn’t truly fulfill that desire to be loved and validated).

Rook, I think also makes sense, but it’s hard to say because most of the time a lot of his characterization is just played for jokes. Like the whole ‘he’s a stalker, he knows a lot about everyone, others get unnerved by him, etc.’ It’s meant to be funny, but if we take it seriously then we could probably jump to some interesting conclusions about Rook. Also, combined with that ghost bride line about him ‘never letting his beloved go’ -

He seems the type to get fixated on some object of beauty, and I could see that developing into a yandere-like obsession. Maybe if he finally finds the one thing - or person - who he thinks is the true pinnacle of art and beauty, what he’s been searching for all along. Initial stalking to learn more about his interest, some uncomfortable attempts at closeness because he knows everything about them and they know nothing about him. Divided between showing his beloved off to the world and keeping them all nice and pretty for his own enjoyment - the only one who can truly appreciate their beauty. Also, once he’s felt the experience of love, I doubt he’d ever want to live without it. Maybe that’s the ‘true’ beauty of life to him, even.

Jamil is just so apathetic that if he ever did fall for someone, I can’t see him ever giving them up if he can help it. Also, we’ve seen in canon that Jamil isn’t above doing mildly bad things for self-serving interests (think masquerade with ruggie, manipulating the oblivious students).

He just wants something nice and soft for himself. Is that so much to ask for, after all he’s been through? Jamil is never allowed to have anything, nothing that Kalim doesn’t. It’s no wonder he’d cling to the only sweet thing he can get his hands on, something just for him. Even if you’re frustrated with him, even if you get tired of him, he isn’t so willing to just let you go. He deserves something nice like you, and you’ll be happy with him, even if you might need a ‘charming’ reminder of it sometimes.

Lastly, Jade and Floyd are popular yanderes to write for a reason. They both already have so much inexplicably unhinged energy even compared to the rest of the cast (other than maybe Rook). Jade seems so cold and apathetic, while putting on a mask of care. Floyd doesn’t really care to do so, wearing his many moods on his sleeve. But they’re still two sides of the same coin; they’re used to getting whatever they want, often by questionable means.

They also seem like they would be pretty possessive, even if it comes out in different ways. Jade and Floyd may be good at sharing with each other, but they’ve never been good at sharing with anyone else. Floyd will show you (and whoever thinks it’s okay to encroach on his partner) how upset he is by this particular development. I doubt you’d want to keep it up when he threatens your friends that get a little too close. Jade is different; the same annoyance and possessiveness still burns him, but he has a little more patience than Floyd. He isn’t willing to start any fights. Jade prefers not to get his hands dirty, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have other tactics to scare away anyone who tries to flirt with you.

[kaedekolya]

alien stage "cure" lyric translations

i've been losing my mind over how poetic the korean lyrics are, so i tried translating them a little more closely to the original! there are so many implications and so much nuance that it's simply impossible to fully convey them in english, due to vocab and syntax differences, so there will be a ton of translation notes below. please cry over this tragic pair with me :")

[ disclaimer: i am in no way trying to imply that the official translations are subpar, because they're actually really good — it's difficult to convey the full extent of meaning while remaining concise enough for closed captions! i just want to share my own take on the original lyrics ^^ ]

r o u n d 6 — c u r e

Please permit me, till the tips of your hands Please permit me, till the tips of your feet I wish for you to melt me within your eyes I don't want to lose you I plead of you, inflict wounds upon me I plead of you, make it so that I am hurting Until not a single drop of me remains I dissolve in you Till these stars, which will crumble Buried within eternity, which will fade into a blur At the edge of your frigid lips Read me, please That's right, me Even the sharp words you gave me Even if they leave scratches beneath my eyes I wish they remain upon your tongue Even if everything is shattered, it's okay Now, please, look at my wounds Now, please, cure me Just so that my unease may be dampened So that I dissolve into you Above these nights, which will be drawn Screaming into the silence, which will collapse Within your pupils that gaze at me Drink me, please That's right, me This song without an end Towards each other, we dance Our story, buried within eternity Till these stars, which will crumble Buried within eternity, which will fade into a blur At the edge of your frigid lips Read me, please That's right, me Above these nights, which will be drawn Screaming into the silence, which will collapse Within your pupils that gaze at me Drink me, please That's right, me

[ translation notes below the cut. ]

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

translation notes

"please permit me"

허락해줘, please grant me permission; implying the person Till is singing to (henceforth Mizi, for brevity) has authority over him.

"I wish for you to..." vs "I wish..."

a slight difference in conjugation; Till wishes that Mizi will do that action for him, whereas Ivan simply wishes for things to be a certain way.

"I don't want to lose you"

놓치다, to lose something or someone by missing them or failing to catch them; implies less agency and control than "to let go."

"I plead of you, inflict wounds upon me" / "I plead of you, make it so that I am hurting"

부디, implying an earnest entreaty, a fervent plea. here, the conjugation has Till asking Mizi to give him wounds, and give him pain.

"I dissolve in you" vs "so that I dissolve into you"

there is no exact translation for 물들다 (conjugated into 물들어 and 물들게 in the lyrics), but picture this: watercolour paints soaking into a white canvas, permeating across it, imbuing it. difference in adpositions: Till says 너로, indicating "by" or "with," whereas Ivan says 네게 (너에게), indicating "to" or "towards". so for Till, Mizi is the colour and he is the canvas, whereas for Ivan, he is the colours that are spreading towards Till. difference in conjugations: Till says 물들어, in present tense and active voice, while Ivan says 물들게 [하다], to make a certain state happen (note that this is different from the ~ㄹ 게 conjugation that indicates future intention). Ivan is saying please notice my pain and heal it, so that I permeate into you, which would then quieten my unease.

"which will crumble" / "which will fade into a blur"

the ~ㄹ conjugation here is a future indicative tense; the action it describes will happen, the state it describes will come to be. 무너질, "will crumble;" to fall by crumbling, crumpling, caving in, breaking down. 흐려질, "will grow blurry;" i chose to translate this as the more poetic "fade into a blur."

"buried within eternity"

묻힌, from 묻히다, to be buried; this word can also mean "to be stained," giving the phrase an alternative meaning of "stained upon eternity."

"read me, please" / "that's right, me"

the official translation says "read my soul," which might indicate the meaning that the creators intended, but the original korean lyrics only says "me." "그래," which i translated as "that's right," can be used in many contexts with varying nuance; it is an acknowledgement and a simple, light agreement. in some contexts, it can be perfunctory, in others, it can be an acceptance.

"even if the sharp words you gave me" / "even if they leave scratches beneath my eyes"

here, Ivan is downplaying the extent of hurt that Till has inflicted upon him. Till may use sharp-edged language, but Ivan describes these words as being given to him, almost as if they are a gift, implying he treasures every word Till throws his way. the word used for "scratches" is often used to describe scrapes left by fingernails; shallow, surface-level wounds.

"even if everything is shattered, it's okay"

부숴, from 부수다, to break, smash, shatter. the official translation says "you can break me apart," which might reflect the meaning that the creators intended, but since the subject and object can be omitted in korean and still be grammatically correct, this sentence doesn't indicate the subject that is doing the breaking or the object that is being broken apart.

"now, please, look at my wounds" / "now, please, cure me"

the word for "wounds," 상처, can also be used to refer to scars, but i chose the former to indicate the open wounds that Ivan wishes Till will cure.

"just so that my unease may be dampened"

그저, "just," implying that Ivan doesn't want for much, he is only asking for this small and simple wish. 불안, unease. it's not quite as intense as "fears," though it can be an indicator of it; it's closer to worries or anxieties. 가라앉도록, from 가라앉다, to sink, to subside, to become subdued.

"above these nights, which will be drawn"

그려질, from 그려지다, to be drawn, like a sketch or painting.

"screaming into the silence, which will collapse"

the more accurate conjugation would be "screamed," but i went with "screaming" for a smoother flow. 쓰러질, "will collapse;" to fall by collapsing, fainting, passing out.

"within your pupils that gaze at me"

translating it as "eyes" would probably read smoother, but the korean lyrics use the specific word 눈동자, meaning the pupil of the eye.

"drink me, please"

the official translation says "consume me," but 마시다 (original lyric 마셔줘) means "drink." it's simple and fluid, not as forceful as "consume" or "swallow." once again, Ivan never uses harsh or violent language to describe Till's actions.

"this song without an end"

i intentionally chose this syntax to emphasise the lack of an end, and to more closely mirror that of the original. it can also be translated as "this endless song."

"towards each other, we dance"

향해, towards, indicating direction. the official translation, "face to face," can be inferred from the word, but i like the idea of them dancing towards each other, going towards each other, as if drawn together in each other's orbit. (also, the irony that in reality, it is only Ivan doing so, only Ivan going towards Till; Ivan sings this line, like he wishes it were the case, like he wishes it were mutual, even as he knows it is not.)

"our story, buried within eternity"

in the previous instance of the phrase "buried within eternity," the object is not specified. here, the clause is completed with 채, meaning "the state of." specifically, this line would be "our story, in the state of being buried within eternity."

[ and that's it — thank you for reading! please note that this is mostly a line-by-line translation, as the original lyrics are composed of distinct clauses that connect in meaning, but not in grammar. the official translation wove the clauses together in proper sentences, whereas my translation mirrors the scattered discontinuity of the korean lyrics. ]

[distort-opia]

Could you maybe explain to me what exactly Jason's problem with Bruce was/is when he came back?

Maybe I'm being stupid but I don't know. Like, I know there's this space between Jason's resurrection and Talia finding him... and Jason returing for a sec to kill Bruce, then changing his mind, and went back to Talia to plan The Ultimatum and travel the world a bit.

I went off the assumption that Jason thought Bruce didn't care enough for him to kill the Joker and then the whole stupid thing with the batarang to the neck after everyone thought Dick died.

But, like, Jason kind of destroyed his relationship with the batfam himself with the whole coming out of nowhere and trying to hurt/traumatize/kill them. I don't mean to hate on Jason specifically, I just don't get him on a fundamental level.

Would really appreciate if somebody could clear that up, I'm kind of desperate. Like I have most of the facts but it seems like a jigzaw puzzle with too many pieces and I can't make sense of it.

To be honest, I don't understand your confusion fully? You pretty much explained it yourself, why Jason was angry at Bruce after he came back. Even Judd Winick, the writer of Under the Red Hood, says it very concisely (in this interview):

When it comes to Jason's relationships with the Batfam, I'll once again let Winick explain his vision (transcription of a podcast episode to be found here):

You say that Jason harmed his relationship with the Batfam himself as if Jason's intention had been to have good relationships with them. At the times he went after Tim or Dick or Damian, I don't think he cared much about that, hah. Most of his choices at the time could be boiled down to "What would piss off Bruce the most, either directly or by proxy?"... and also, "What would get Bruce's attention the most?". Because that's what made it complicated, right. Jason wouldn't have gone to these extremes if he didn't care about Bruce.

As to things not making sense... you're not being stupid, I'm sorry to say that at least to me, it's impossible to reconcile all of Jason's actions within a coherent character. Just because he was written by different people in different continuities with very different goals (though maybe more accurately, by some writers lacking a goal, as in not really knowing what to do with him). This is true for most comic book characters, not just Jason; true consistency is a pipe dream when the history of a character spans decades. Keeping that in mind, my personal approach is forming an idea of the original core traits of a character (which is why I gave examples of what Winick himself said), and then filtering their subsequent portrayals through that. Some comics will be horribly OOC despite them technically being canon and you simply have to go the "I recognize that the Council has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid-ass decision I've elected to ignore it" route. Then there's, of course, your personal preferences; you can choose what is canon to you because you like it, and form your idea of a character around those instances-- though here I'd always warn to never stop being aware that it's your idea of the character. There is no absolute truth, and we're all playing in a sandbox. Other people will choose other instances of canon, or try to reconcile all of them somehow, and your ideas might not jive. That's perfectly fine.

That being said, while I do like Jason a lot, he isn't my full-time blorbo, so I'm sure other Jason scholars could respond to this much better than I did! If anyone wants to add more in-depth answers, please do.

[lastoneout]

like real people do

Fandom: Pokemon Legends Arceus Rating: M Warnings: None Relationship(s): Professor Laventon/Captain Cyllene Word Count: 5,115

Summary:

During a late night at work, Captain Cyllene reveals to Professor Laventon that she's never been kissed. The two of them decide to do something about it. (A/N: This fic is only about 99% finished, but as it's been that way for several years now I figure it's time to stop keeping what I do have done all to myself. I've inserted explanations where the missing paragraphs are, so you should have all the context you need, there's just some missing prose.)

[The start was supposed to be something about two recruits getting caught making out and being punished for it, and then later that night, after everyone has gone home, Laventon and Cyllene are chatting and it comes up, at which point she says something about the recruits being careless or foolish, which leads into...]

"Yes, well," Laventon chuckles nervously, "the allure of such activities can pose quite the distraction at times."

Cyllene doesn't look at him, instead focusing on the papers in her hands, nimbly tapping the bottom of them against her desk and shifting them together so they fall into order with a satisfying thwhip, before placing them on the stack in front of her, all the corners lined up as uniform as soldiers, not a single page out of place.

"I wouldn't know," she says, the sentence as purposeful as her hands, not a word more or less than strictly needed in her usual clear, firm tone, though there is an unmistakable touch of something quite foreign to her voice—shame. 

Laventon's own embarrassment flares in response, and in his haste to correct his faux pas his words come in a veritable tsunami, starkly contrasting her concise reply. "O-oh, apologies Captain, I didn't mean to make assumptions! Enjoying things of that nature is far from a universal experience, t-theres hardly any reason to feel ashamed of not being interested, in fact, I'd say there's no reason at all-" 

"You misunderstand," she interrupts, "my inexperience is not due to a lack of interest on my part. There's simply never been anyone who reciprocates." 

That stops him dead in his tracks, his mind struggling with the idea that not a single person has ever found the Captain charming enough to so much as kiss, and before he can stop himself that doubt slips out. "Surely that's impossible-"

Her eyes at last meet his, her gaze sharp and cold, giving him the distinct impression that he's made an entirely different sort of blunder. "I don't make a habit of lying, Professor." 

"Of course," he agrees, calming his tone to hopefully convey his own honesty, "Of course, I apologize, that was insensitive of me. I've only ever known you to be truthful, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise."

Cyllene nods, silently accepting his apology. 

Still, Laventon has never been one to leave well enough alone—if he was he doubts he'd have lasted long in his line of study—and his disbelief fades into a strong flare of indignation, lashing out at the very idea that no one has ever deemed Cyllene worthy of their desire. "I just find it difficult to believe that you've faced such stark rejection," he continues. "Forgive me for overstepping, but anyone would be quite lucky to find themselves the object of your affection, Captain." 

A breath of silence passes between them as she searches his gaze, but before he can be sure of what she's looking for—or if she found it—her eyes drop to the desk in front of her and she politely replies, "That's kind of you to say." 

"I mean it! The people who have turned you down were surely fools. I wouldn't bother taking their misguided opinions personally."

"Indeed," she says, her tone barely on the courteous side of dismissive, and she stands, further signaling her disinterest in continuing this discussion. "Regardless of anyone's opinion of me or the reasoning behind it, I am incapable of fully understanding why a person would be so taken with desire that they ignore their duties, and even if I was, I doubt I'd agree. Aside from the separation of one's work and personal lives..." she pauses then, the first sign of uncertainty slipping past her ironclad control, "I imagine such activities would be better enjoyed when one has ample time to spend on them. Pleasure can be quite rare in this world, surely the haste and risk of interruption cheapens what I assume would be an otherwise pleasant experience."

Laventon nods, and while he knows it would be best to leave well enough alone, but the moment has left him flustered and anxious, and he can't seem to stop himself from rambling on in a hapless attempt to return to normalcy. "That is a fair point, though I can assure you, desire can be quite overwhelming at times, driving one to indulge in any spare moment they can.” He pauses, letting out a thankfully more composed laugh and shaking his head. “In truth, some even find the threat of discovery rather enticing in its own way.” 

"Again," she reiterates, her silent insistence that they drop the subject becoming decidedly less polite, "I wouldn't know." 

And yet, against all odds, he opens his mouth once more. "Well, it's not entirely impossible to change that, with the right help, of course."

Silence falls again, their faces both slowly turning red as the implication of his words settles over them, heavy and impossible to ignore. 

Laventon almost immediately wants to say something—anything—but the words at last refuse to come, dancing just out of reach as his mind sorts through the mess of emotions churning in his chest that only grow stronger and stronger with each passing second. 

He's embarrassed first and foremost, how could he not be, offering to kiss his Captain like some sort of lecherous fool? Even if he hadn’t meant anything disrespectful by it—he’s always been eager to make himself useful—it was still incredibly rude and he should absolutely apologize, but before so much as a simple “I’m sorry” can make it past his lips something else captures his attention, an enticing feeling disarmingly close to interest simmering under his remorse.

Would he be interested in acting on his accidental offer? Perhaps he would. Cyllene is quite beautiful, and a lovely person to boot. Even if it was just to help her gain experience, a friend helping a friend, kissing her...well, as he looks at her now lucky hardly feels like the right word. Perhaps offering in the first place was a senseless move, but backing out should she accept, that would truly be a foolish mistake indeed. 

"Forgive me, Professor," she starts, her words no less purposeful despite the uncharacteristic shyness weighing them down, "but do you mean to offer...?"

"Yes," he replies without so much as a moment's hesitation. 

"I see." 

Neither of them move, a strange, nerve-wracking, tempting feeling building in the air. Anticipation, like the crackle before thunder, or the second after one only barely dodges a pokemon attack. Unsafe, perhaps, but exhilarating nonetheless, and prone to leave one with a craving for more.

Still, despite his now quite ardent interest, the sense that he's made an ass of himself finally becomes impossible to ignore, and his practiced courtesy—as well as his desire to stay in the Captain's good graces—wins out. "Apologies, Captain, I don't mean to, t-there's no pressure, of course. I just, you deserve to experience things, if you'd like to, that is, and I- I'd be honored to be your first, or, uh- if you wanted me to h-help you-" 

Cyllene still doesn't respond, but that's not a yes any more than it's a no, so he firmly shuts his mouth, giving her the time and space she needs to decide.

And decide she does, just a moment later. "Alright." 

Laventon is too shocked to be anything but almost manically enthusiastic. "Brilliant! Well, there's no rush, of course, you just let me know when-"

"Now seems appropriate," she replies, seemingly ignorant of the contradiction of their setting—or, perhaps, it's more that she's stubbornly refusing to acknowledge it at all.

He almost points it out, but the building is empty and they're both nearly done with the day's work anyway, and he's far to taken to do anything but play along. "I couldn't agree more!" 

Cyllene gives him an odd, almost amused look, before coming around her desk slowly, each step closer making his heart race all the faster, until she's standing in front of him and his pulse is so intense he begins to worry he may pass out. 

Because goodness, she's far more beautiful than he ever noticed now that he's really paying attention, now that she's close, her face tilted up ever so slightly so she can maintain eye contact. He was wrong, he realizes, lucky doesn't even begin to cover whatever kind twist of fate has blessed him of all people with the chance to kiss someone like her. 

"As I said," she starts, her voice confident, yet quiet and intimate, a conflicting display that leaves him reeling, "I'm inexperienced, so I trust that you'll take the lead?" 

"Yes, of course. Leave all that to me." 

"Thank you. I'm ready when you are." 

Cyllene tilts her head again and lets her eyes fall closed, and while the angle is a bit wrong and there's a blush staining her pale cheeks he takes a moment to marvel at her nerve, envious that she can face something like this so fearlessly. 

He owes her no less than the same, he decides, and quickly brings a hand to her jaw to gently shift her face to the correct position before leaning down, his own eyes falling closed as his lips make contact with hers. 

It's slow, chaste—nothing more than a gentle bit of pressure—but his heart still skips a beat. She's warm, and so very soft, and though this isn't about him or a precursor to any other activities, he can't help the wave of desire that crashes over him, making him crave more.

He reminds himself to resist it. He's a gentleman—or at the very least a decent person—after all and Cyllene is his Captain as well as someone he considers a friend, he'd never risk ruining that bond by disregarding her consent. Besides, doing such a thing would sour the experience beyond salvage, and he already knows he wants to savor every second of this, commit it to memory so he can revisit it again as often as he'd like. 

His desire only grows at sight that greets him when he breaks the kiss; Cyllene's slate-blue eyes half-lidded as she gazes back at him, the blush on her cheeks far darker than it was before. 

Still, she's as honest as ever. "Interesting." 

"Interesting?"

"It wasn't at all unpleasant," she explains, "but I hardly think it's alluring enough to distract one at inopportune times." 

Even years later he'll struggle to understand exactly why he opened his mouth again, but that doesn't change the fact that he quickly replies, "Well, that was just a small kiss. The...distracting ones tend to be a lot more intense, to put it mildly." 

"I would assume they must be...still, I can’t imagine the difference is that profound." 

“I assure you, it is,” he chuckles awkwardly, face flushing, "though I must admit I’m not entirely sure how to describe it..."

Another beat of silence, and then, "Show me." 

"Oh!" he practically squeaks, feeling himself begin to drown in dual blinding panic and overwhelming desire to fulfill her request. "A-alright, as you wish. Just, uh, follow my lead, but do speak up if you want to s-stop, of course, and...feel free to- um, you know, take the reins, if you'd like." 

"Understood." 

Laventon keeps things simple at first, gently guiding her to move her lips against his while mostly closed, before finally parting his, heart hammering when she follows suit. 

He goes slowly, giving her as much time as possible to get used to things, but despite that less than a second after his tongue presses past her lips she lets out a shocked sound and jumps back, falling into a stiff stance nearly a full foot away from him. She tries to recover, or at least act natural, and nearly manages it, but the bright crimson blush coloring her face and the hand she's holding over her mouth betray her true feelings. 

"I'm sorry," he starts nervously, holding his hands up apologetically, "That's just um, how this s-sort of thing works..." 

"I know that," she practically snaps, letting her hand awkwardly fall to her side. 

He's not sure he entirely believes her, but either way he chooses to shoulder the blame. "Regardless, I should have warned you." She looks as if she can't decide if she agrees or not, so he continues, "Anyway, the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, Captain, and you've had a kiss now so, we can stop-" 

She shakes her head, some of her nervousness fading. "I don't want to stop. It was...simply an unfamiliar sensation, and it caught me by surprise."

"Are you quite sure? I don't want you to feel pressured-"

"I don't feel pressured, or uncomfortable, and I'm sure. If you're willing to continue, then so am I," she insists, starting to sound almost close to eager, and a fair bit more confident.

He nods. "Yes, I- um, I'm willing." 

Cyllene steps closer and tilts her head up once more, her stance more relaxed, though still guarded. "I'm ready." 

"Alright." 

This time Laventon tries to go even slower, to keep things progressing as naturally as possible, but in an apparent effort to maintain her composure she swings so far in the other direction that she hardly reacts at all when things move forward. It's undeniably awkward, leaving him feeling a bit like he's just poking at a statue, but soon enough she pushes past whatever is keeping her frozen and hesitantly moves in tandem with him.

It's still awkward, as she has no idea what she's doing, but the two of them have always worked well together and she's a quick study, and when she finally starts to get the hang of it the sensation that he lacked the words to describe begins to build up warm in his chest. It drives home how right he was, at least in his opinion, as even the slightest hint that she may agree to it would surely make the temptation to come do this with her at even the most inappropriate times incredibly distracting, to say the very least. 

And goodness soon distracting isn't even enough to cover it, because as the awkwardness fades and she becomes more confident, more bold—and almost desperate, needy, like she's waited her whole life for this moment and doesn't plan on passing up even a second of it now that it's come—his sense starts to leave him completely, the desire for more cementing itself firm in his chest. It makes his face burn and heart stutter and fingers flex at his side, barely resisting the urge to reach out, wrap her in his arms, and pull her close. If he can hardly hold his ground against that small temptation right now, knowing this was just on the other side of the door, waiting for him...heavens it would be like dangling water in front of a man dying of thirst. Far too cruel to even dwell on for long. 

Thankfully that train of thought is quickly swept away, because after a particularly arousing slide of her lips against his she suddenly tilts her head a bit more, letting herself get even closer, before reaching up of her own volition and gently resting her hands against his chest, her fingers hesitantly taking hold on his vest. 

It's almost overwhelming how instantly consumed by her presence he feels, and all at once he realizes that perhaps it's not just the kissing that he likes—though that is incredibly nice and she's becoming rather good at it unfairly quickly and it's sating his own baser needs exceptionally well—no perhaps what he truly likes is kissing her.

Just then, as if to convince him, she lets out a soft noise, something small right at the back of her throat, and leans in just a bit more, her fingers tightening their grip on his vest. It's beautiful, perfect, and for a moment the lustful desire gives way for pure, honest, burning affection. It's all the confirmation he needs. 

He likes her.

Oh, good heavens, he likes her. 

How had he not realized it before? They've known each other for years by now and have spent nearly every day together, surely he should have noticed that his feelings had drifted beyond platonic at some point. What point even was it? When had he started to appreciate her not as a coworker and captain, but as a companion? Someone he wanted around not merely because they share a common goal or mutual respect, but simply because it's her and things don't feel right if she's not beside him? Perhaps it all just happened so slowly, so naturally, that it hardly even registered until now, when it's finally right in front of him and impossible to ignore. 

Those people she spoke of, the ones who turned her down? They truly were fools. How could they not see how blessed they were? Laventon counts himself as fortunate just to share this moment with her, to be trusted so deeply that she isn't afraid to accept his help, to be able to stand close and truly take in how gorgeous she is, and yes, to kiss her, to hope that he's making her feel just as good as he does. To relish in it all, no matter how briefly, with a person he cares so very deeply for. If she even slightly returned these newfound emotions? He'd feel like the luckiest person alive. 

Pulling away is harder than it has any right to be, but when the time comes he manages, though he goes slowly, selfishly lingering in every last precious second until they're finally parted. 

"Do you understand now?" he asks softly, torn between staring into her eyes and gazing down at her lips, both sights overwhelming in their own way. 

Cyllene shakes her head, though he gets the distinct—and flattering—feeling that she’s chosen now to finally be dishonest. "It's...enjoyable," she explains, voice breathless and halting, "but I don't see how it's distracting-" 

Once again, he opens his mouth, caving to the desire to drag this moment out. "Well, admittedly, you t-typically get much- um, closer, than this..." 

"Closer?" she asks, a hint of urgency in her voice as she looks down at their bodies. They aren’t touching aside from her hands resting on his chest, but they’re still barely inches apart. 

"Yes." 

Cyllene wastes no time stepping forward until they're pressed flush against one another, forcing him to swallow nervously as his heart threatens to give out completely. "Like this?" she asks, meeting his gaze to confirm she hasn't misunderstood.

"Yes, s-sometimes or...almost." Because yes, often this is as close as couples bother getting, but no matter how much of her he has it's still not enough, and his eyes drift over to her desk beside them, though his voice one again fails him, as he's far too embarrassed with himself to explain. 

But she follows his gaze and puts the pieces together, and rather than be offended or embarrassed, she instead barely takes a moment to consider it before she steps past him and in one smooth movement hops up onto the thing, spreads her legs to make room, and yanks him close once more. 

"Like this?"

"Yes," he breathes, or tries to, anyway, it's become rather hard to pull in air past the overwhelming everything threatening to drown him completely. 

Cyllene lets the moment linger, her eyes dragging over his face, staring into his own eyes before drifting lower to his lips. "I can see how this is more intimate..." she admits quietly. 

"Indeed," he agrees, though as he continues his thoughts fight his attempt to put them into proper words. "I've found that the uh- the i-intimacy...it, well, a-accentuates the experience greatly." 

She leans a bit closer. "Would it be alright if I once again asked for your-"

"Yes," he interrupts, no longer caring how desperate he might sound. "I'd be happy to help." 

"Thank you." 

He waits with bated breath for her to close the distance between them once more, but she pauses, her gaze drifting up past his eyes. Her hand follows, delicately sliding along his cheek, tracing the edge of his hat before pushing past it ever so slightly, the tips of her fingers just barely grazing his curls. "May I...?" 

"Of course." 

“Alright,” she replies, before reaching up with her other hand to gently pull the knitted cap off his head and set it aside. 

Laventon flushes, feeling strangely bare without it. Not that he wears it for modesty reasons, it’s simply because he's always been more sensitive to the cold than the average person, but given the situation, he feels exposed and vulnerable. The feeling eases, however, when Cyllene's hands return to his head, one traveling up to run through his hair, the other cupping his jaw, her thumb grazing his beard. 

He can't suppress a sigh at the sensation, and he leans into her touch, letting his eyes fall shut. 

"Do you enjoy this?" she asks. 

He nods slowly, not wanting to dislodge her hands or discourage her touch. "Most people do." 

"I see." 

She continues her exploration, and she pulls her hand away from his hair before sliding it back through, this time grazing his scalp with her nails before making a loose fist and pulling ever so slightly. Despite how gentle it is he can't stop the small, appreciative whimper from escaping his throat, or his face from flushing bright red as it does. Thankfully she doesn't ask him to elaborate this time, though she certainly takes note of it, and she uses her grip on his hair to tug him into another kiss. 

This one is instantly far more heated than the previous ones, neither of them even remotely interested in going slow. Her hands move, wrapping around his shoulders, though she can't help but return to his hair, sliding her fingers up the back of his neck before slowly tangling them in the short curls there. It nearly makes him moan, but he swallows it back, only briefly concerned about how well she's pressing his buttons. 

The worry passes, however, as she next tightens her thighs around him ever so slightly, the pressure emptying his mind and cracking enough of his resolve that he finally touches her, letting his trembling hands come to rest on her sides, just above her hips. Even with the layers of her uniform between them he can tell she's warm and soft here too, but as good as it is it's not nearly enough, not anymore, and he can't stop himself from letting his hands slide a bit higher and then around to settle against the small of her back before using the leverage it grants him to pull her even closer. 

She seems to like it, breaking their kiss for just a moment to let out a soft, gorgeous gasp. He gets a quick look at her as she does, and his heart all but stops at the sight. In all the years they've worked together he's never seen her this disheveled before, her hair messy, face flushed, chest heaving, and it's so beautiful he almost—almost—wants to stop kissing her just so he can drink it in uninterrupted.

But then she closes the distance once more and he decides looking isn’t enough, no he wants to see if he can make it worse. Find out what she likes, exactly where and how to hold her, touch her, kiss her, and then dedicate all of Almighty Dialga's time to doing it right, giving her everything she wants until she's a shaking, trembling mess in his arms-  

All at once Laventon feels a familiar heat in his gut and tightness in his pants, and what little sense he has left breaks through the haze, his face burning as he realizes his body is well ahead of him on this one. Embarrassed panic quickly starts to overtake his mind as he prays to any god that's listening that she won't notice. Sure, it is only natural that he would find all of this incredibly arousing, but that's not what this is supposed to be about. It's about helping her gain experience, not his own idiotic lust, and he loathes the idea of her discovering how little control he has over himself and becoming uncomfortable—or offended—because of it. 

So he pulls away, faster than he probably should, but still slow enough that he can play it off as natural. Regardless she chases after him, her eyes only opening when that proves unsuccessful, and heavens, the look on her face—not offended or uncomfortable but confused, disappointed—nearly makes him cave and pull her back in. 

"Do you understand n-now?" he asks instead, thankful his breathlessness hides how nervous he is. 

Cyllene looks lost, her eyes clouded as they search his, and it takes her a long moment to process that this encounter is ending and actually answer his question. 

"This was...enlightening," she says, her flush darkening as she becomes more and more aware of how intense the two of them let things get. "I have much to consider..." 

It isn't a yes, but somehow makes him feel as if he's done a better job. “Well, I’m glad I could...be of service,” he replies clumsily, unsure of what else to say.

Her blush only grows more intense, and rather than respond she glances away and slowly loosens her hold on his vest. 

Laventon decides to keep quiet as best he can, as he’d rather not make things any more awkward than they already are, and instead he steps back and offers his hand to help her hop down from her desk. She takes it with a polite nod, and his heart skips a beat at the feel of her hand in his, the gentle pressure of her weight against him as she slides to the ground intimate in its own way. When she’s standing she turns her focus to her outfit and hair, hastily fixing both until she looks mostly presentable. He doesn’t bother putting his hat back on, as he feels more than warm enough without it, and simply shoves it into the pocket of his coat. 

Besides, the cool night air should help with his...situation. Speaking of which, he begins to panic anew, and in a rush to maintain some semblance of dignity, he hastily shrugs his labcoat off entirely, draping it over his arm and holding it close so the bulk of it hides his lower body from view. 

Cyllene gives him an odd look, but before she can put the pieces together he jumps in, “I suppose I should leave you to your night.” 

“Yes...and I should leave you to yours,” she replies slowly. “Thank you for humoring me, Professor. I appreciate your assistance, and your patience.” 

“It was my pl- or, u-um, I’m glad to help, truly.” 

“I also would appreciate your discretion regarding this matter.” 

“Of course! That goes without saying.” 

“Good.” 

Silence falls between them, and while Laventon knows he needs to leave, his feet refuse to obey him, followed closely by his mind, now once again caught up in his new-found feelings regarding Cyllene, namely how beautiful she is and how much he desperately wishes he could stay in her company a bit longer. Not even for lustful reasons--though that desire certainly hasn’t let go of it’s hold on him--no, he finds himself wondering what it would be like if they were a couple, if he was here not for...whatever this all was, but so that he could escort her home, or perhaps to their home. He’s not sure he could ever be so lucky, but the thought fills him with longing all the same. 

“Professor?” Cyllene asks, snapping him back to reality. 

“Yes! Sorry, I uh- lost my train of thought there for a moment,” he replies quickly, shoving away his useless fantasies. “Well, do take care on your way home tonight, Captain.” 

“I shall, and you as well.” 

“Certainly. Goodnight then, Captain.” 

“Goodnight, Professor.” 

He gives something between a respectful nod and a half-bow before making a combee-line for his office door, already planning to clean up and head home as fast as humanly possible, but he freezes in place when Cyllene calls out, “Professor, wait...” 

Laventon turns to face her, grasping onto the last of his composure as best he can. “Yes?” 

She takes a moment before responding, her eyes drifting to the wall behind his head, like she can’t quite bring herself to look directly at him. “If, in the future, I should...wish to gain further experience in this area, would it be alright if I once again asked for your assistance?” 

He nearly faints right there, only barely stopping himself from falling over or making a complete fool of himself by offering to immediately provide any assistance she might desire—either here or perhaps somewhere more private. 

“Of course,” he replies honestly, praying he sounds coherent, or at least not like the lustful fool he apparently is deep down. “I would be happy to help.” 

“Thank you,” she nods, finally glancing back at him. “Well then, goodnight...for now.” 

Laventon hangs on her last two words and all they imply like a lifeline. “Goodnight.” 

Cyllene nods once more before turning back to her desk, her hands nimbly gathering the last of her paperwork, and he leaves her to it, quickly ducking into his own office to do the same. 

He lets out a breath once he’s within the safety of his personal space and tosses his coat and hat over onto his kotatsu, no longer needing the protection they offer, but as he starts to close the door something stops him. He isn’t sure what, exactly, his mind is far too muddled to make sense of what he’s feeling anymore, but it leaves him standing there all the same, his shaking hand lingering on the doorknob. Perhaps it’s habit—after all, he tends to leave it open during the day—or perhaps there’s a finality to it that he doesn’t want to evoke, or...or maybe he simply doesn’t want to be parted from Cyllene just yet, even if only by a single door. 

He shakes his head, dismissing his racing thoughts and prying his hand off the knob, leaving the door cracked ever so slightly. 

[He then heads home and like Idk something something a few days pass and then Cyllene drags Laventon into a closet and makes out with him because she gets it now or something???? I genuinely cannot remember where I was going with the ending.]

[somany-fandoms-solittle-time]

In A Sentimental Mood: A Ruggie/Yuu Oneshot

Some quick Housekeeping! This was originally meant to be a song-fic but the only time I remembered to/felt inspired to write was nearly the middle of the night (as writers do lol) so I didn’t have enough mental energy to splice the lyrics together into the story. Instead, I listened to the song on repeat while writing, like, HALF of the fic but I thought it was cute enough to fit the vibes. The narrator's voice and descriptions were hard to keep consistent as well as concise, but whatever. I don’t think I properly matched Ruggie’s speech pattern but I think it’s close enough to ‘random, working class teenager’ for now.

Also! It’s an X Yuu but I’m pretty sure I used all GN! Pronouns so please feel free to read it as an X Reader (who’s the Ramshackle Perfect). It felt kinda awkward to not describe the character or use open descriptors (like Y/N, HC, etc.) but feel free to add any notes or styles to try out for an open reader audience. Honestly feel free to comment or message any feedback lol! I don’t have a beta reader atm (I might ask either my gf or my IRL friend who’s also into TWST) but it could be fun to have a random stranger react to my writing so they’re disconnected from personal feelings and whatnot.

 I have a fic introducing my oc a little interacting with the Pop Music Club, but it’s making out to be longer than expected so between writing for my own AU/ocs story I’ll be posting cute lil song-fics as well as crackhead interactions lol! Maybe a few headcanons as well. I’m not sure if I would have ever actually started writing fanfics (or writing in general) instead of simply daydreaming about it if it wasn’t for @twst-beam and @krenenbaker , so a quick dedication for them for lowkey lighting a fire under my ass. Not only have you opened the creative floodgates, but actually gave me the motivation to actually TRY and put it into action. Anyway…. ON TO THE STORY BITCHES!!! ENJOY THE THE SWEET HYENA BOY (who weirdly looks exactly like my Boyfriend, lol) AND COME REALISH IN THE CHAOS~

In A Sentimental Mood:

A Ruggie/Yuu one-shot

It had been a long day. Scratch that–it had been the longest year of Ruggie Bucchi and Yuu’s life! However, there was something especially trying these last 24 hours. Maybe it had something to do with how this was the first day off the both had (that lined up) in w e e k s and they STILL BOTH got called in to run some nonsensical errand. Or maybe it’s because when the First Year Squad were supposed to be babysitting Grim the entire first floor of Ramshackle got absolutely trashed. 

Something about stupid bets, idiotic magic competition, and a prolonged chase. Afterwards, Rugs and Yuu had to help clean up! The aftermath of the wreckage was too much for the Hodge Podge group of freshmen.

What really topped the day off was the mission impossible scheme the couple failed to pull off. Originally, the two were simply planning to “borrow” on one Leonas (numerous) credit cards while the latter was passed out for an all-expenses-paid date out. It’s not like they were about to rob the second prince blind! Just a few trips to their usual thrifting stops, maybe hassle with a local boutique and then some semi-fancy free grub. 

Instead they got caught two shops in when they decided to grab some food before being totally weighed down by paper shopping bags. Since they had a later start, Yuu suggested getting dinner to the new uppity wine-and-dine.

“C’mon Rugs~ When are we gonna have another chance to dine like Kings? And on a Royal Dime at that!” they foolishly (but successfully) tempted the poor Hyena into a little more Mischievous than the two realized.

Too bad their Dinner Date got cut short from one of the waiters recognizing the Sunset Savannah Royal Seal on Leona’s card. It took an hour and a half of being corralled into a backroom, 3 ominous threats of calling the police, snarky back talk and just general arguing before Leona strutted into the Restaurant and vouched for his underclassmen. Seeing the lazy Lion not only WAKE UP, but come off campus was a bit of a surprise for the thief couple. 

What wasn’t as surprising was his smug, diva face while declaring that they would need to pay him back for disturbing his nap. After hasty, and admittedly sheepish, promises to the Prince, he collected his missing card and strutted back to campus. Luckily, he was secretly a bit of a softy towards his unofficial Vice and the magicless Perfect that saved his life (and probably his status for not ratting him out to his older brother). It’s safe to say while making the switch a decent stack of Thaumarks was placed in Ruggie’s wallet.

So yeah, in a word, the day had been a bit of a shitshow. A clusterfuck of misfortunate events (and if it weren’t for Leona, Yuu and Ruggie would not only be in some kind of jail but also flat broke). 

But finally–finally–this hardworking hyena Beastman and the Ramshackle Perfect were about to have some peace and quiet! A moment for just the two of them. A small, precious moment late at night. After the longest night of their collective lives, the two were able to cuddle up and appreciate what they had. Even if all they had was encompassed by long, tiring days and horrendous luck… and having the bend to the whims of some of the brattiest Divas of NRC.

Regardless, this time isn’t about them. It’s about Ruggie Bucchi and Yuu enjoying what left they had of their day off, Damnnit!  

“Ya’ know,” Yuu hummed into where their face was buried for max comfort; Ruggie’s chest. “Today wasn’t a total bust.”

Ruggie snickered sarcastically as his left hand paused its petting motion through his significant other’s hair. He was clearly only humoring his lover's thought process, yet paying attention all the same.

“I’m just saying it wasn’t a total loss,” they began to half-jokingly argue, “I still got to spend the day with you. Besides, you gotta admit it was pretty funny watching that stupid manager’s annoying face drop when Prince Grumpy strutted in all pissy!”

“Shee Shee Shee! Fair enough, Sugar! Good thing he didn’t realize Leona’s always cranky… or that His Majesty~ was mostly just pissed he had to wake up.” Ruggie answered playfully.

“It was kinda sweet of him for letting us, mostly, off the hook though. He even let us keep our goodies along with that sneaky bonus,” Yuu mentioned while lazily motioning towards the small mound of shopping bags and the miscellaneous items inside.

“Pleeeease~ He probably spends more on a single earring than we did with his card and cash combined,” Rugs pouted enviously. To emphasize his pout, he completely encircled Yuu with his arms and clutched them tightly. He was hanging onto them tighter than a swiped snack from the cafeteria on Doughnut day.

“I don’t know,” his partner giggled in response, “Leona’s been such a softy lately… but his whole dark and brooding reputation gets in the way a bit.”

“Dark and brooding?” Ruggie snorted, “Dunno if Leona’s habits of lyin’ around counts as dark and brooding.”

Yuu tried to suppress their elated smirk at feeling the slight tremor of quiet laughter. “True, that’s more of Mal’s stick isn’t it? Angsty and depressed?”

“Nahhh, that’s Idia’s thing! Also, I still can’t wrap my head ‘round you calling Malleus by some nickname.” His laughter died down as he scrunched his nose at the thought of his partner so buddy-buddy with one of Twisted Wonderland’s most powerful mages. And a crown Prince… with servants and castles and-

“You do realize that Malleus is like a GIANT kid right? I mean, yeah he’s some super powerful wizard-”

“Mage!”

“...whatever. He’s an absolute beast when it comes to magic and whatnot, but he’s got this whole ‘homeschooled only child’ vibe going on and honestly? It’s a little pathetic, in a cute stray way.”

Ruggie didn’t really know how to feel about his partner’s revelation. On one hand, he knew they were just friends and had befriended each other longer before Yuu realized Malleus’ status. That didn’t necessarily make it any easier to cover up the inherent inferiority or the slight unsettling fear. Good thing they didn’t feel the usual pressure of this world’s social ladder… but that doesn’t mean they won’t start worrying if he stayed lost in thought for too long.

“.......what was your world like for you to turn out so weird?” 

“Hey!”

Ruggie continued to laugh, but it came out a little bit strained. Yuu finally glanced up in order to catch a glimpse of their boyfriend’s adorable pout.  His lightly scrunched eyebrows and the way his ears seemed to fold-in on themselves made him look like a grumpy puppy. Absurdly cute, but clearly bothered, and they both had had such a long day t wouldn’t be right not to cheer him back up!

“Oh, c’mere!” the Perfect said through teasing giggles as they flipped Ruggie over to switch positions.

Rugs was currently (and quite contently) snuggled face first into his lover's chest; enjoying the sound of their heartbeat along with the comfortable extra cushioning. His arms reached slightly down to wrap around their waist snuggly as the two pairs of legs naturally crisscrossed at the joints. The moment he fully relaxed was when Yuu started to softly pet his bushy hair and scratch along the base of his ears.

Pure Heaven.

“Were you getting grumpy because I kept mentioning Leona and Malleus?” the Perfect lovingly taunted now that he was trapped and attacked (with euphoric head scratches) in his weak spot. Truly, an idiots mirage of paradise.

“C’mon Sweet Cheeks! Ya Couldn’t’ve least let me keep my pride?” Rugs whined, quickly going back to frowning deeply but unable to hold it for long. There was no chance in all of Twisted Wonderland he could stay “upset” while his precious Dandelion Fluff’s fingers softly caressed his sensitive ears. At least he could cover-up the way he melted, burying himself further into their figure. Luckily, Yuu was already squeezing him closure with a burst of affection,

“Don’t worry, my silly Hyena, the only one I was focused on today was you. The only one I wanted to spend time with was you. And the only person I think of from dawn till dusk, and dream about the whole night through, will always be you, Ruggie Bucchi.” Yuu declared playfully, then slowly breathlessly serious with a sappy amount of affection as they watched Ruggie's tail wave faster and faster.

“Shee shee shee,” Rugs bashfully replied, “where did all that come from outta nowhere?”

Yuu wistfully sighed, “I guess I’m just in a sentimental mood.”

The two shared some playful hushed whispers until Ruggie had to turn his head to hide a yawn. His attempt was futile however, as Yuu caught it–but instead of teasing him over it they simply snuggled him closer and quietly sang an old, sweet crooner love song from their home world. Despite the long day, it felt blissfully short as the two peacefully drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. 

[crowclubkaz]

across the multiverse was the multiverse plot line the mcu should have had

okay hear me out. I love marvel. love the mcu love the movies the shows all that jazz. but we’ve come to a place in the mcu where it’s no longer possible to simply watch all of the marvel movies that come out and continue to understand the mcu’s plot. phase 4 has made it so that casual marvel fans or just mcu film fans can’t watch new marvel movies without having watched a lot of hours of marvel tv shows. watching multiverse of madness is hard if you haven’t seen wandavision. watching the marvels is going to be almost impossible if you haven’t seen captain marvel. trying to explain timelines in mcu movies is going to be confusing as fuck if you haven’t seen loki.

what across the spiderverse did successfully and comprehensively was introduce the idea of the exact same multiverse we see in the mcu, but explain it in a concise, understandable way. if you’ve never seen a single other marvel movie other than across the spiderverse, you know how the multiverse works, and you can enjoy the film from start to finish without getting lost.

i love new marvel content, but the mcu as a whole is getting fucking confusing for marvel fans, let alone casual fans. the spiderverse movies are proof that with actual thought going into planning and audience marketing, you can do a successful multiverse story - the mcu just isn’t doing that.

[oseh-shalom]

do you mind sharing what prompted you to convert/become jewish? sorry i’ve you’re not comfy asking or have already answered this question!

Hi! :) Well, that's the million-dollar question! Lol. Fun fact, the final essay I wrote before my beit din began like this:

When people ask me why I'm converting to Judaism, I find it difficult to answer. Not because I don't know the answer, but because it seems impossible to explain concisely.

So, the short answer: I just sort of fell into Judaism, and I kept going because it felt right.

The slightly longer answer: I like to joke that I somehow stumbled onto the Judaism Wikipedia page and then just never stopped learning. Articles led to books, which led to getting involved with a local shul. As I'm sure is the case for many converts, I fell in love with Jewish rituals, traditions, music. The people.

But for me it was also about finding a place to explore my own spirituality as someone who was raised in a fairly secular home. This is probably the best I can explain that part of my journey (copied from near the end of my beit din essay):

Every now and then, I think of the Hasidic story about the boy who goes into the woods to be with G-d. Although G-d is the same everywhere, he explains to his parent, the boy is not.

I used to see myself strongly in this story. In a way, I still do. But although I still feel a strong connection to nature, Judaism has allowed me to bring that feeling of spirituality into the ordinary parts of my life. I’m no longer chasing the feeling of being alone on a mountaintop. Instead, I find that sense of connection within my community, through prayer, and in ritual observance.

So... It was that, and a million other things. I don't think I'll ever be fully satisfied with any single answer I give to this question. Because to be honest, the truest answer is simply, "It felt right."

[chaosincurate]

Alvvays defined

This one is gonna be a fun post for me to make. Listening to the monarchs of musical bliss, the indie pop idols, Alvvays, every time, without fail feels like an inherent act of musical artistic appreciation, like I can't help but to think about how great music as an art form is. To make it all the more impressive, the band manage to maintain that high constantly throughout an album, and across albums. I don't tend to buy into the whole "no bad songs" thing because I find it undermines the value of your appreciation if you ignore flaws as opposed to loving something in spite (or even because) of them, but when it comes to Alvvays, I genuinely don't dislike a single song, even really a single moment, they've created. They aren't perfect of course, and we'll get into that a little bit in a second, but I'm convinced they are one of the best indie acts going. Let's get into why.

Alvvays (self-titled)

When I say this album is one-note, you'd be forgiven for thinking I found the album monotonous, boring, and repetitive. You'd be forgiven, but mistaken. This debut album from Alvvays is consistently exciting and establishes a core identity expertly over a concise 33 minute runtime, which also helps ensure that their lack of experimentation isn't felt. Featuring flowery and left-field lyrics (see Adult Diversion), dreamy guitar lines (see Atop a Cake) and the perfectly restrained rhythms to facilitate the euphoria of each and every song, the Alvvays sound was focused and flawlessly executed from day one.

I did mention that Alvvays weren't perfect in the preamble, and while they came out on their first album more or less fully formed, that applies as much to many negatives of theirs as it does to positives, and the clearest negative I've found in their discography is inconsistent album sequencing. I haven't tried, but I get the impression their albums, especially their later two, wouldn't be too badly affected by playing them on shuffle, although each project certainly has its own identity which helps them feel cohesive.

Even with that negative though, the sheer quality of these songs make it fantastic, especially considering it's a debut. Not many acts are immediately gifted enough to get me whipped up in the pure joy of music like songs such as Archie, Marry Me, Party Police, Atop a Cake, and Red Planet do.

Apple Music link

Antisocialites

What do you get if you take the exceptional qualities of the last album, and add some refinement and slight experimentation, along with punchier production? A 10/10 album called Antisocialites, apparently. You hear it all right off the bat too, with In Undertow introducing you to the album with a washed out distorted guitar that feels like the aural version of a low wave on the beach immersing your feet. That blissful, "life is great", picturesque holiday feeling pervades this album entirely. You cannot love music, hear this album and not feel joy. It's just impossible, and I will not be convinced otherwise. Alvvays had me by the balls from the first note of the album and took the opportunity to give me a (barely metaphorical) orgasm.

I must admit, I struggle to be at all analytical about this album, as you may have noticed, simply because this capacity to induce joy and awe almost evades analysis. I can tell you it's indie pop. I can tell you it's brilliant and one-of-a-kind, but I just cannot tell you why beyond what I have here. It all just either seems so perfect but so obvious, or just completely indescribable.

Again, I don't like to say that something is without flaws, I don't like sounding so uncritically adoring, but every song on here (except one that I will get to) is noteworthy and awe-inspiring to me. The perfect energy of Plimsoll Punks and Your Type, the girl-group charm of Not My Baby, the dynamism of Hey... I could easily go on, but I'll spare you any further pious rambling, and leave it at the promise that every song is incredible in its own unique way that branches naturally from the sound established on the band's debut.

The one criticism I have that I hinted at earlier, was that the sequencing was a little awkward again, particularly in that Already Gone, a song that is well below the album's par for me (although still great in a vacuum because of course it is, Alvvays are almost annoyingly good at this whole music thing), felt forced in between Lollipop (Ode to Jim) and Saved by a Waif. I'm glad it's a song that has seen the light of day, and I think there's definitely a version of this album with that song on it that feels more natural, perhaps having it by the slightly slow Dreams Tonite as opposed to being sandwiched between very high energy, happy songs, but it just doesn't work here in my opinion.

Anyway, that's about enough fawning for a [blank] defined post, so overall thoughts: Alvvays' middlebrow status-quo rituals more than sufficed here and if you like indie pop or any surrounding genres and don't listen to it, you're stinky and I don't respect you until you do. Do it. It's good, you'll like it. Look, I'll even link it for you:

Apple Music link

Blue Rev

And after a quick 5-year non-hiatus- induced break filled with drama, personal and global (Donald Trump's presidential era gets strictly no Alvvays, which I respect), the frankly too talented Alvvays returned with their most diverse album yet, starting with a slightly garage-leaning rendition of their sound with Pharmacist and Easy On Your Own? before getting back to their old sound, and their best version of it yet, at that, with After the Earthquake (obligatory mention that the final "are you awake now?" that Molly Rankin belts out is eargasmic), which makes for an incredible introduction to the album, telling you to expect a lot of variety, but in a way that is true to their already established identity.

Then they try their hand at being a The Smiths cover band without getting into legal trouble with Pressed, and they mimic their indie royalty predecessors with an apparent ease that is mind-boggling and follow it up with the sincerely sweet Many Mirrors which, thematically, appears to act as a reprieve from the stories of romantic hardship to tell a, presumably, more reality-founded story of a situation that is as effortless as it was at the onset of their feelings.

Then there's a sharp left-turn towards the delightful Voidz-esque Very Online Guy that just confirms that the band are having as much fun as you are, as the band takes the soundscape of the early internet to inspire the instrumentation on the track about a guy who is, get this, very online. It goes over cyber stalking, constant opinions, and similarly modern stressors with a sense of humour that makes it go down so easy.

Then Velveteen (yes we're going more or less track-by-track, this album is chaotic in the best way) serves as the payoff to mentions of "velvet" found in other songs on the album, giving those mentions an added level of meaning retroactively before flowing perfectly (credit where it's due) to the similarly mellow, and distinctly melancholic Tile By Tile and then reminds you what band you're listening to by taking the foot off the brakes with the ball of tired altruist energy of Pomeranian Spinster, my personal favourite Alvvays track that doesn't even get enough love amongst Alvvays fans from what I've seen. It's a typical length, 3 and a half minute song that is so incredibly fun and charismatic it feels like half that at least.

From there, you're given a little bit of a break with the Belinda Carlisle-approved Belinda Says which is a beautiful anthem about just making it work. Being dealt a shitty hand but going all in anyway and figuring it out as you go.

From there, the album mostly just continues to wind-down, which is far from a flaw. In fact I think it was necessary. Constantly high energy isn't as easy to pull off over 30 minutes as it is over 40 and taking that extra few moments to just bring you back down to reality pays dividends for an album that gives you transcendent moments like they have an overabundance of them, which I imagine isn't actually far from the truth.

All that positive stuff being said, the album does have it's flaws. Personally, Fourth Figure strikes me as tonally redundant, and while the sequencing is more or less on point here, the album does still feel a little too messy to match or surpass the quality of Antisocialites, even if it does provide it's own charm.

Apple Music link

Playlist

Frankly, I'd recommend just listening to the albums, in chronological order even, but for those who, for whatever reason, would prefer a playlist of some of their best, most representative stuff (at least in my humble opinion), that can be found below. I hope it helps you in some way!

Spotify

Apple Music

[girldigital]

Transitioning

I haven’t written seriously in a minute.

It’s been quite peaceful since the storm. I found something I wrote on the plane (airport?) prior to it and still, it’s pretty representative of the situation at hand. I like when I freehand my thoughts onto paper, it’s usually more faithful to how I feel, which somehow also ends up more concise (surprisingly).

I do find that words pour out of me better when I don’t think about them. I guess I’m true to the surrealists – automatism is my best method.

It easily gets a clogged and convoluted in the head.

Anyway, going back to the topic at hand, I’m so happy. It only took almost 3 years for me to stop longing for a person that obviously doesn’t want me. I know that deep down I’ll forever have a place for him. Not to be dramatic, but he’s kind of one in a million you know. I’m glad we have this entanglement though. I don’t think you forget someone like that, but who knows.

I simply feel nothing pulling me towards him anymore – for obvious reasons. After all, we are not made for each other, we live on opposite ends of the world, and he is kind of an asshole – to me. He truly lived up to his Mr. Big title.

I’ve been talking to someone since. I kind of hate that it’s been going good. He reminds me a bit of Big, except much nicer. I don’t want to be one to compare, but that’d be not impossible, but also a disservice to myself, I think.

I’m not the bitch to settle, point blank.

I hate that he truly feels like my Aiden. Similar build, comes from  a smaller city, has to live in the shadow of the man I’d forever jump in bed with despite how bad it is for me. I don’t condone cheating, but I don’t blame Carrie – despite her insanity.

This is all speculation though, we still haven’t met so we’ll see. Part of me hopes it doesn’t go well because it’d be awful to read this back again once in a relationship lol. I don’t want to have high hopes, but I can’t lie and say this hasn’t been the smoothest talking stage I’ve had in a long time, and sue me, but I am hopeful.

I also feel a sense of freedom I haven’t in so long.

G (A is already taken) is visiting from LA, and it’s been such a blast. What a friendship I cherish. I’m so excited to have experienced breakup two point O and to have the opportunity to make more wholesome connections.

I missed him, but it also feels like we never split ways. Technically, we’ve split ways through out our friendship so perhaps that’s why it works. I think we’re going to the pool today and getting Chinese.

I’m currently listening to the b2b mix we recorded at Pirate studios and for once, I think I can say it’s good? C+ as he described it, which I’m down to agree with. Maybe even B- at times.

I actually am so happy currently, like truly happy. Fuck Big.

[vipier]

don't you know i'm no good for you ?

“ WILL YOU SHUT UP AND STOP FIDGETING SO I CAN FINISH THIS? YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE. ” despite the twinge in his gut incited by cassian’s words, tristan barely looks up from his work as he speaks — namely, from tending to a particularly nasty blaster burn along @k4ssa’s ribcage that needs a bit more assistance than the others more superficial wounds he’d sustained on whatever his last mission had been. they still hadn’t discussed it, and tristan knows only the location of the trading outpost to which cass had been dispatched. as usual, despite running a smuggling job half a system away, he’d kept his comlink open in case the spymaster had need of his assistance, and as usual, had received no transmission from andor. the surprise was hearing from tinker, who explained that cassian would be on his way back to base soon before very concisely recommending that tris get there first if he could manage. even in his junker ship, it proved a quick trip, leaving him time to pace cass’s quarters anxiously in anticipation and catch a few restless moments of sleep on the cot while waiting. he’d woken to his lover, utterly silent and smelling vaguely of blood and smoke, crawling in beside him to slip his arms around him and hold him close with his face buried in tristan’s shoulder.

tris didn’t have to ask any questions to know it had been bad.

he’s not sure how long they lay there in silence, cassian clutched to him and breathing shakily against him in the dim, tristan wrapping a leg around his hips to pull him closer as he pressed slow kisses along the crown of his head. all tris knew was the distress that seemed to radiate from his lover, an uncommon anguish that alarmed him and sparked something shockingly protective in the depths of him. they probably would have stayed there far longer, had tris not brushed a hand down toward cass’s waist, prompting the other man to flinch and hiss. it took some coaxing — baby, he’d murmured against his rebel’s temple, gentle as anything, come on, baby, it’ll get infected, let me fix it up, I’ll just be a minute — but he finally convinced the captain to move into the chair beside the little desk in the corner and fetched the med kit. a minute turned out to be far too conservative an estimate, but he hadn’t anticipated that he would find some of the fabric of cass’s shirt fused to the burn, forcing him to be far more methodical about treating the wound than he imagined.

for his part, cassian seemed half dazed through most of the procedure, wincing occasionally but mostly simply staring at tristan with some sort of wonder, desperation, a vulnerability that even he sees only rarely, despite what they mean to each other. he’d continued to work under cass’s intense — almost yearning — gaze, even as he felt his cheeks heat beneath it, straddled over his lover’s thighs for the best angle to treat his wound. when the spy finally spoke, it was all tris could do not to stumble over his task, to keep his hands from twitching as he attempted to complete the finishing touches.

even now, moments later, after his initial good-natured and teasing retort, he finds himself distracted by the raw quality of cassian’s question, the pain stretched beneath its surface, the way his accent turned heavier like it always does around tris when he stops pretending. under different circumstances, he might offer a sharper response ; under the worst circumstances, he might agree with the sentiment outright just to see cass hurt. but he does neither this time — wouldn’t be able to even if he tried, with his lover watching him like that, defenses briefly stripped bare — and instead sighs as he spreads the antibacterial cooling gel over the burn and presses a wound dressing firmly down until the edges adhere to cass’s skin.

“ I’m no good for you, either. we’ve never let that stop us before. ” he’s still not sure what awful thing had happened on this mission, what prompted cassian’s aching honesty — or at least what cass clearly thought was honest. to tristan, it’s horseshit. for as twisted as it becomes between them at times, he’s never truly believed he’d be better off without his kassa. frowning, he tests the corner of the dressing, satisfied when it clings to cass’s ribcage despite his ministrations, then lifts his eyes to gaze into the other man’s as he cups a hand against the side of his neck. “ I don’t believe you. anyway, what would I do, hm? unlove you? I couldn’t do that any more than I could stop breathing. and I wouldn’t want to — I want you. you’re stuck with me, good for each other or not. ” from his place still straddling his lover’s lap, he squeezes cass’s thighs briefly with his own as he gazes at him, intent, unable to hide the note of concern. after a moment, he leans forward to kiss him, once, twice, a third time, firm and sweet and utterly yielding, to coax and comfort, to reassure — and simply to taste him, a reminder to tristan himself that he’s returned to him once more. another victory. another chance for them, even as he keeps fearing they’ll run out. when he finally speaks again, it’s in practically a whisper against cassian’s mouth, as though passing a secret between them. “ do you want to tell me about it? ”

[ijorolanza-blog]

Ads about Covid-19

In many ways, the covid mania was unpredictable. There have been so many unexpected turns of events during the past two years that it is almost impossible to recall them all. Lockdown one, easing of the constraints, the emergence of the Delta variation, Lockdown two, and so on. Like us, brands had to change to reflect the sentiment worldwide continually. After a while, tributes to healthcare professionals turned from hip to ridiculous. As various virus types swept the world and then opened back up, stay-at-home messages alternated between current and outdated. The primary goal of the advertising effort is to promote the covid-19 guidelines, which were crucial during the pandemic. It was uploaded so people would know what needed to be done during an outbreak. Mainly four stages that are stated simply, concisely, and effortlessly. The intended audience for this advertisement was the general public since many people are still confused and anxious about not knowing how to deal with Covid-19. This advertisement aims to help and give response to everyone suffering from the outbreak so that the public would see that they are being guided and they have someone to lean on with. Moving on with the contents of the advertisement, everything was intended and suitable for the general public. It was clearly stated that they must sanitize their hands, wear face masks at all times, maintain social distancing, and always learn to fact-check and be aware of the environment near them. Regarding the media manipulation in the advertisement, I firmly feel that there was none, as it received a significant number of views (100K), leading viewers to believe that what was being conveyed was substantial and accurate. During the pandemic, many people were unhappy, distraught, anxious, terrified, and in need of assistance. It caused many traumas in many people, not just locally but even globally. During the pandemic, many advertisements and videos were played and aired to ensure that people are doing the right things and are comfortable with their life, no matter how difficult it is. Through these advertisements, people were calmed down, even if only briefly, to help them cope with their anxiety. Video link: https://youtu.be/5ruNCIwyBOk This particular advertising is both incredibly thorough and quite succinct. The video impressed me because of how concisely everything was explained. Anything from how long you need to wait after washing your hands to using a face mask properly. The length of time we must spend outside while running errands to prepare for the pandemic ranges from how far away we must be when we're outside to prevent direct contact with people. It's amazing how this type of an ad exists. This ad is targeting the demographics of the general public or the whole nation itself. It's goal is to make individuals conscious of their environment. Similar to how it is said in the advertisement, Covid-19 can be spread from one person to another by coughing, sneezing or even touching others around. It's incredible how easily this virus spreads to others who haven't yet been exposed to it. This advertisement also aimed to inform the general public on how to determine whether they have been exposed to the virus. They would reportedly begin to feel unwell, start to cough, and get weak. They would also lose their sense of taste and even smell. In this advertisement they said that the soap and alcohol are the things that you can use to help you fight this virus. And I can confirm that these goods are both beneficial and healthy for us. Since Covid-19 is a virus, we require a product that will eliminate and stop them from spreading from one person to another. This will reduce your chances of coming into touch with or being exposed to someone who has Covid-19. I can say that there isn't any kind of media manipulation at all. Since what they claimed was supported by evidence and was true in a scientific sense. Everything about how to contract the virus, how long you need to wash your hands for, and even how far you need to be from another person was accurate. This captured the viewers' attention and heart because everything was factual and true, which is what the people want so that they would know the right things and way to deal with the Covid-19 virus. Video Link: https://youtu.be/Uft3-e6yUKQ

[morethanjustmediocremusings]

Theory as Liberatory Practice

Taylor Abouzeid Professor Williams WGS 450-01 9 March 2021

Theory as Liberatory Practice

Approaching a course dedicated totally, and completely to unpacking and understanding feminist theory was albeit, daunting, but alas I have found it to be highly applicable. I began this quarter-long journey with the intent of selfishly sucking out all the information I could from the given ten weeks of instruction with the goal of simply being able to regurgitate nonsense factoids and lifeless data. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself taking to this course a fondness that has now gone unparalleled throughout my time here at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo.

For my final research paper, I have decided to examine a fundamental idea presented in bell hooks’ essay “Theory as Liberatory Practice.” hooks argues that the act of reading and engaging with theory can be a healing process (3). This is how I have decided to view his class- as a healing experience, one where I am able to make sense of those things that seem to happen around me. By selecting to analyze this specific take on theory in its entirety I will be able to not only completely decipher the idea presented by hooks, but also make space for my own interpretations.

hooks begins her essay by recounting her youth. In the instances she describes, the audience is able to grasp a firm understanding that hooks was able to find a sense of escapism with theorizing (3). Similar to how many kids can get lost in the fictional world of movies or books, hooks was able to fabricate and make meaning of a new reality, one in which she could feel in control. “Most importantly, I wanted to make the hurt go away. I saw in theory then a location for healing” (3). This site for healing that hooks describes is exactly the central focus of this course. Theory, when placed under the correct analytical lens, can be deeply healing and fundamentally safe. 

These feelings of fear, and this desire for “a sense of home” that hooks describes in her essay are obviously sites of pain for the author (4). A need for space and time are blatantly present in her accounts of her childhood experiences, and thus this desire to make sense of the world makes complete sense. More often than not, people fear what they don’t understand. Children are scared of the dark because a lack of light is unfamiliar to them and has yet to be explained away. Just as a cat with too many toes can be off putting, or a dark spot under your fingernail is cause for concern, as humans, what we desire most, is an explanation. 

For hooks, theory was able to provide the information and perspective necessary to make sense of the world around her. hooks herself admits that theory is not at its core intended to do such work. “Theory is not inherently healing, liberatory, or revolutionary” (4). Further she goes on to state that “It fulfills this function only when we ask it to do so and direct our theorizing towards this end” (4). By making such a concise yet terrifically bold statement hooks is able to set perimeters for the applicability of her theory. The suggestion that only when one is able to set their intentions, they can engage with theory in such a manner, allows for her theory to apply only to those most capable of such work. One could even make such an argument, that without having similar practice as hooks had during her childhood, interpreting theory in a healing manner may be impossible for some. 

hooks continues her argument to define those who are capable at engaging in such a level. She holds that simply throwing the words “theory” and “feminism” around does not make one a theorist, nor a feminist (5). For one to reach this healing level of theory it takes real effort at sense making. An effort that cannot be simply put into such few words. 

In a section focused on the students of feminist theory, hooks addresses the unnecessary difficulty students must face to engage with theory (7). Calling upon the lived experiences of many women, hooks writes:

As feminist activists we might ask ourselves of what use is feminist theory that assaults the fragile psyches of women struggling to throw off patriarchy’s oppressive yoke. We might ask ourselves, of what use is feminist theory that literally beats them down, leaves them stumbling bleary-eyed from classroom settings feeling humiliated, feeling as though they could easily be standing in a living room or bedroom somewhere naked with someone who has seduced them or is going to, who also subjects the to a process of interaction that humiliates, that strips them of their sense of value (7).

Here hooks desire for healing theory is clearly applied to the masses. Feminist scholars, activists, and all audience members alike are able to relate to this feeling on some level. Written in a vernacular that is not colloquially shared, theory is sometimes inextricable. This, according to hooks, is where the gap between theory and practice becomes most visible.

hooks’ application of theory as practice strives to bridge this gap. By quite literally practicing theorizing, one is able to create a healing environment; where one is in control of making sense of the surrounding world; where one can begin to heal from that which has caused pain. It is only here, in this space that hooks suggests we can fully engage with theory in practice. hooks takes the opportunity to give her readers a purpose, and through that, giver her piece more emphasis. Simply, through the application of theory as a liberating practice one is able to practice theory. 

As previously mentioned, throughout my engagement with this work, I have made the conscious decision to view this class in a similar light to hooks. I have placed emphasis on viewing this class as an act of liberation. Our course engagement with feminist theory has been lengthy and highly informational. This class has created a beautiful space where individuals are able to mimic hooks intentions. This course, especially under the current prescribed lens, has served as an outlet through which one is able to practice sensemaking-or rather-theorizing. 

It is through the important first reading of the course, that student intentions were set. Luckily for us students, the “Theory as Liberatory Practice,” written by bell hooks (the piece under current examination), was our first exposure. Beginning a course centralized around theory with a piece dedicated to making theory personal was an amazing opportunity for us to take this course well beyond our figurative classroom. As we continued our journey through the course and read from authors such as Dworkin, and The Combahee River Collective, this sentiment stayed with me. By deciding to conduct my final research paper on the first assigned reading I have turned this course into my own full circle liberatory practice. Making every theory a personal endeavor, I was able to create a healing space not unlike that described by hooks.

My space for healing was defined by the range of theory we were able to cover in our given ten-week period of discussion. I felt a wide expanse of emotions, filled pages of notes with rage, love, and often confusion. Expressing and making sense of my own emotions became a regular act following our class time. I followed the recommendations of hooks and gave myself the opportunity to heal. I engaged with theory in, and outside of, the classroom. I read books that challenged my ideas and fed my brain with only the most choice of readings. Through this passage of time, I found myself sense making. I began to theorize about my own world, my own life.

hooks places a necessary emphasis on taking theory beyond the pages from which it is written. As a class we have had many discussions about the importance of “real world” applications to the theories we have drove deep into. It is only through my own journey with the hooks piece that I have been able to make such a jump. To take theory into our everyday lives is no simple task, but rather one that takes consistent work and effort. Even now, as I walk down a street or find myself daydreaming, I have begun to interpret that which surrounds me. I have taken words from pages and attached meaning to the leaves on trees. I have finally been able to make theory my practice. 

This is no small feat for any individual, yet alone someone still engaging with the studies of feminism in the most basic of forms. Taking oneself outside of their experience takes effort and practice. I would even like to acknowledge that it is much easier to theorize about theory than it is to actually practice it. Taking theory into the place that hooks describes is difficult, and for me, took weeks to finally begin to conquer. I still have a long road to pave for myself moving forward, but by continuing to practice the words of hooks I hope to accomplish deeper theorizing. I hope that for my peers this class has had the same momentous effect.

Throughout her piece “Theory as Liberatory Practice,” bell hooks askes her readers to think of theory as a place for healing, and a place for discovery. We must all heal from something and by providing such a space to ourselves we are allowing for, and encouraging, a personal liberation. Theory helps us make sense of our environment, and even ourselves. For one to make the conscious effort to engage in such a quest one must acknowledge the intense work required for a productive practice. I have decided to take the wise words of bell hooks with me, and work to practice theory as liberation every single day.

Works Cited hooks, bell. Feminism: Theory as Liberatory Practice. Anna Maria van Schuurman Centrum, 1992, pp. 1-21.

[cleavetheclover]

RESISTING i tell you RESISTING THE URGE TO REWRITE THE CHAPTER

Because I know that I can do it better, i KNOW that all 14K words can be written more concisely and artfully, and there are so many ideas i JUST had while laying in bed last night, BEAUTIFUL IDEAS that would make the sense of panic so much more dreadful and intimate

But alas, every time I open the existing document I simply close it. I have stared at those words for so long, pored over them even, that I cannot do so any longer. I can’t even read the whole thing for cohesiveness out of sheer boredom. This behavior has even made me question whether it’s worth reading to begin with. If the author can no longer look at it, why would readers ever do so?

I feel a deep and profound sense of shame in uploading it as is. I don’t think I’ll be able to cherish and take pride in this chapter as much as I did with chapter 3. All the same, I think uploading and carrying forward is ultimately the best decision. I love this story and I want to be able to tell it, simple as that. But the story will not get told if I cling onto it forever.

If this were a Real Novel and i were a Real Writer then i would simply come back to this chapter another time and re-write it then. But the reality is, I really suck at that. As long as my chapters are unreleased, I find it nigh impossible to switch gears to other chapters or even other works. Nighttime in Las Vegas, my proudest work at the moment, is the primary victim to this.

So farewell, Chapter 4 of Nighttime in Las Vegas, i hope you serve your readers well. I have my whole life to write chapters better than you and I look forward to that, but I will never get there if I cannot let you go. So I take my lessons kindly, and hope to use them soon.

Nighttime in Las Vegas update: chapter 4 is coming soon! I need to finish my edits but I am going to upload it by the end of next week at the latest (today is tues 8/15/23)

[mrskurono]

title: Baby Fever a/n: ok you know what I’ll admit it, all I’ve been thinking about lately is Geto. He’s on my mind constantly. Should I be working on something else, yes. Is Geto the first jjk character I really had a crush on, maybe. I just....fucking Geto ok this has taken me four times to right jfc word count: 1.7k tags: no sub/dom dynamics, romantic sex, established relationship, manga spoilers, fingering, multiple female orgasms (not overstim though) breeding kink, needy Geto, creampie, unprotected sex, pregnancy mention, body worship, really just soft sex ok, unedited character(s): Geto Suguru (jjk)

They had grown. 

Both girls that was. 

Into wonderful adolescences that brought a set of different challenges. Geto was ready for that be it blindly. And he loved every part of it times two. Each time he looked at either of the kids though he could vividly remembered rounder cheeks, rosier faces and goofier smiles. It left him reminiscing over that more and more now.

You noticed it in the most subtle ways. Geto wanting more. More of those days even though he wouldn’t outright ask.

A trace of his fingers along your collar bone drew you away from what was in your lap. For the most part you’d ignored him once he came to bed but it grew almost impossible when the sorcerer had his lips pressed to the conjunction of your head and neck while a light touch traced down your chest. Not irritated in the slightly, you still give a playful sigh as you put your book down.

“Can I help you?” You can’t even turn your head to see him. Geto’s face is pressed to you with a trail of peppered kisses following suit.

With a firm grip he slipped his fingers against your thigh to give it a playful squeeze. Geto pulled out of the crook of your neck enough to finally look at you with that off brand smirk of his, “Mayhaps.”

You grin just to lean down and catch his lips on yours. Instead though you pull away just as he was going to lean into you. Earning your own smirk to play on your lips, “Mayhaps if you ask nicely Mr. Suguru.”

The hand on your thigh tightened. Pulling you towards him in a meager attempt but for the most part you stayed rooted where you were. Only slightly letting your legs fall open as your smirk grew into a full blown smile. He was awfully soft for a man on the run orchestrating a death cult. 

Geto slipped his fingers up along the crotch of your bottoms. Nudging his forehead against yours like he’d done every night this week. An eye roll that held no merit you grab his face and kiss him deeply. There isn’t a second in hesitation as you lean into him. Geto’s fingers moving up to help you wiggle out of your bottoms. A similar scene playing out just like the previous nights but you didn’t mind in the slightest with his attention fully on you.

“You’re so wet.” He commented against your lips the second his index finger dipped between your folds.

“And you’re already hard.” You toss back to him when your palm presses up against the stark hardness hidden under his robes, “Why don’t we help each other out?”

A nod and he didn’t stop to push back into the kiss. Geto hovering above you but it was your teeth nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Leaving the man to groan as his fingertips danced on either side of your clit. Your hips coming up to join in the motion of his fingers rubbing against you. Only for a few moments though because once they were soaked enough Geto couldn’t keep them from slipping inside you.

“Fuck...you’re so needy,” You moan against Geto’s lips as he curls his fingers in on you. He wouldn’t hesitate to make you cum like this before the main event even started.

Lips back to your neck, Geto hummed something but then nodded and mumbled against the softness of your ear, “I need you.”

Reaching down to grip his forearm as Geto’s fingering picked up in it’s urgency. You regretted the moan when his fingertips brushed over your g-spot. Within seconds he was back at it. Not leaving your sensitive spot alone as your cunt twitched and tightened around him with the impending orgasm. He was gonna get one from you with not much more than a snide remark on your part.

“F-Fuck...” Lip taut with tension as you bit down, fighting it wasn’t in your best interest, “S-Suguru- I- I’m gonna-”

“Cum-” His voice almost desperate, hot breath against your neck, fingers not letting up on their assault, “Please cum- Please I need you to cum- Please-”

The want in his voice too much. Just the way he wouldn’t stop after your orgasm tipped itself over. Fingers pulling a toe curling orgasm out of you as you clutched onto his robes and felt every fiber in your body tingle with hopelessness for him.

Fingers slowing, Geto simply wiggling them around in you and feeling the slickness covering his knuckles. It was when you snagged him for a long drawn out lazy kiss. Just to follow it by an order that he get undressed already, meant the man had no choice but to listen.

Rid of his clothes and between your legs before you knew it. You look down to see him swiping his cock up through the drool of your cunt. What wasn’t on his fingers previously now coated his cock with a beautiful glisten. Geto more than enthralled seeing his cock slip between your cunt lips. Each movement of his length grinding into your sensitive nub sent a shiver up your spine. Either he was too into watching or he was teasing you. A few more swipes and you demand he get on with the main course already.

One push and Geto’s cock slipped down to the hilt with ease. Stretched thoroughly from the nightly fucking all week. Today was no different. Juices squelching around his cock Geto pushed himself down to his base. Feeling his cock bottom out in you no problem. Leaving the man to hover over you. Caged in by both his arms on either side of you. And his hair tickling your face when you looked up at him.

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re handsome.”

Geto stalled a moment. Savoring the way his hips felt snug in yours. The residual feeling of your walls twitching around him. Not a day would go by where he didn’t swear you were made for him. 

“I love you.” His words clear and concise. You looked up at Geto once more.

What smirk you had early softened into a smile. Bringing his face down to yours for a kiss, “I love you t- fuck-” Before he let you finish Geto grinned against your lips and thrusted into you without warning. Just to watch you convulse and loose yourself on his cock. Just as beautiful as ever. He felt himself unable to control himself all over again.

Each snap of his hips into your core left you breathless. He wasn’t rough. Never was he rough. Geto’s cock curved in the right way that left you rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts. Even if it felt like he was going to split you in half, you still wanted more.

Orgasm or not Geto was bringing you right back to the edge. He always did. As you showered his face in breathless kisses. Some of those met with his own lips. Others spared on his neck and collar bone as you watched with a dazed look at where your bodies met. Geto buried inside you with each thrust. His hands hooked into your hips with your legs slightly elevated so he could defile your deepest parts. Every night this week he’d fuck you like this. In the drunken pleasurer of it all you might have thought he was trying to breed you.

“Please-” Geto’s voice peeled you away, “Please cum-”

Thinking he wanted you to cum on him again you half ass nod, “Yes- Fuck yes I’ll-”

“No-” He groaned more of a gasp. Geto putting his forehead against yours even with the dew accumulating on it, “Please- Please can I cum- Cum in you- I just-”

More than surprised. Of course he’d done so more than once before. Now he was asking you? 

“Love why ask just-”

“I want another baby-” Geto broke your question up, his hips still a mind of their own. His breath ragged against your lips and sweat making his hair cling to him, “With you- Another one- Just one- Let me fill you up- Let me fuck a baby in you- Please- I- I love you so much and-”

“Yes.”

Geto’s turn to be surprised.

“Yes please, god fuck yes- Fuck a baby inside me-” You grab Geto’s face. Caring less if you cum at this point and more for the warmth of his release. Lips smashing onto his you don’t hesitate to moan into the fevered kiss.

Geto pulling you down on him with each thrust. Driving his cock in you as deep as he could. Quicker than before like he was desperate for it. Even while your legs twitched and curled, knowing he was breeding in you, something snapped in you.

The way you can on him. Scream only muffled by the fact Geto wouldn’t move his lips from yours. Each rippling twitch of your cunt around him was maddening. Hearing and feeling you craving him sent him into a tizzy until it was simply too late. With the way he snapped his hips into. A rumbling moan emanating up from his chest. It was far too obvious when the first gush of warmth overwhelmed you.

Full well past just what oozed out of you. The mixture of cum and juices soaked the two of you as Geto’s arms waivered a little. A moment of uncertainty if he was going to pull out and waste the gift he just gave you. Instead you yank him down on you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and loosely with your legs around his hips. Making it very obvious he was to stay in place on and in you.

Hand drawn down his back you ignore the sweat between his shoulder blades. Instead engrossed in the feeling of Geto’s cock still inside you and the heat of his chest against yours. Sighing softly to lay a kiss against his cheek you hug him a little tighter, “...you could have just said something you know.”

Exhausted and without a real witty reply. Geto had been saving this all week and now he was a little spent. Mumbling something but you didn’t hear.

The idea of being pregnant, with his child, making you smile more and more with each passing second. Even as cum dripped out of you. It was right away that you kissed the side of his head, “Looks like we gotta keep trying until you succeed huh.”

No question to it there was a twitch of excitement in all of his body. You knew neither of you would be happy now until Geto got what he asked for.

[echo-of-sounds]

autism

How Aizawa, Toshinori, and Hizashi would help and support their autistic partner.

There is such a wide range of symptoms and experiences autistic people have. It'd be impossible for me to portray them all. I stuck to mostly what I struggle with. I also have headcanons that may relate to some struggles if I didn't list them are, as I didn't want to be too redundant: adhd, afraid of loud noises, rejection sensitive dysphoria, and hypersensitivities

Warnings: nothing incredibly explicit, but a couple of these talk about sex and some self-harm-like behavior

Aizawa Shouta

When it comes to communication, there are very clear ups and downs with Shouta. On the plus side, he’s clear, concise, and doesn’t speak in unnecessary, fluffy metaphors. He means what he speaks. You don’t have to worry about missing something. On the downside, he doesn’t talk a lot, let alone talk about his feelings. He tends to express himself in physical ways when close to someone: his facial expressions, hinting for cuddles when in need of comfort, stressing his jaw and shoulders rigid when stressed. The latter is his biggest giveaway, but it can be difficult to catch. He can’t always say it, so his body does. And if you have trouble reading the room as he’s huddled in on himself, needing time alone, he might snap if you bother him too much. It’ll take time, but he will learn to say, “I need some time alone. Please, don’t bother me for an hour or two.”

The symptoms the world labels as ‘too autistic’ and ‘too unnatural’, Shouta feels are complete bullshit. Stimming is only seen as an annoyance because it isn’t ‘common’ or ‘normal’ behavior, even though it’s completely normal for you. Not smiling or laughing at a ‘joke’ just because someone expects you to, has nothing to do with you. It’s others just expecting something from you for no reason. Having sensitivities isn’t being picky. It’s a physical reaction you cannot control. And hyperempathy, hypoempathy, and any lack of social cues are all seen as negative because it means others may have to adjust and they don’t want to. Most, if not all, are because others expect you to adjust your behavior to fit into their world. It’s incredibly asinine and childish to expect that of you.

While shutdowns are different for each individual, he understands the gist of them. He’s had panic attacks and gone on autopilot for days at a time. They aren’t the exact same, but they do share a lot of the same feelings. It’s like your body and mind are overburdened, exhausted, and in overdrive simultaneously, choosing to just freeze and dissociate amidst it all.

Shouta won’t touch you. He won’t make you feel like a burden or try to ‘force’ you out of it. He’s never gone through one, but he knows it isn’t a simple thing; it’s physical, affecting your entire body. After the first few you had around him, he realized he needed a way to comminute with you without words. He’ll end up keeping something sort of chart or card on his phone. Whether in public or at home, when he notices you beginning to withdraw, he can pull it out. You can just point to what you need. Company or alone time? No touching or to be held? Can you move or do you want to stay put? Is it too bright? Too loud? He’ll help the best he can.

If you enjoy parallel play, he’s such an amazing partner for it. Shouta likes being able to just sit. No forced interactions. No talking. No expectations. You two can simply be in each other’s presence, doing your own things while physically near each other. He doesn’t understand why people find it weird or a sign of a bad relationship. He feels it’s the opposite because if you can find comfort and relaxation by just sitting in the same room as one another as you work, your relationship and connection are stronger. Words and interactions, a lot of which he finds unnecessary, don’t always equal a healthy relationship.

The battle between having a dirty or clean place is constant. Dust clogs your throat. Animal hairs feel worse than needles. Cluttered areas are claustrophobic and impossible to work in. Then, on the other hand, hand wipes and disinfectants stick everywhere, irritating skin, lighting nerves on fire. Dryer sheets leave races of chemicals to haunt you through the day. And Shouta isn’t a messy man. He also isn’t the cleanest man. Things may pile up, collect a good layer of dust, and be left out of their proper place. He isn’t intentionally messy. He’s just busy, and once he’s home, he’s tired. Cleaning the kitchen table and sweeping are the last things on his mind.

It’s best to meet in the middle. The specific types of messes that bother you and you can handle, you clean, like laundry and organizing the shelves, items, and furniture how you want. He isn’t picky. And since he’s busy most of the day, you can dust and sweep, keeping the surfaces and air clear of grime. When it involves something that irritates or hurts you, he can take care of it: deep cleaning, cleaning and disinfecting the bathroom and kitchen counters, vacuuming, or anything else that involves chemicals, overstimulating smells/sounds, and other irritants. It’s better this way too as his chores don’t need to be done every day. He can do them when he has the time and energy.

Little to no eye contact, poor coordination, being blunt and/or forward, and getting burnt out much faster than others in social situations don’t bother him. He doesn’t like big groups and loud places. He knows eye contact doesn’t equal attention and awareness. If you want to go out to eat but need to leave halfway through your burger, he’s fine with it. It’s more comfortable eating at home anyway. And he prefers when people speak what they mean. Don’t pussyfoot or hint at something and expect others to get it. Just say it. Life is much easier being direct.

Dealing with emotional dysregulation, anxiety, and/or hyperempathy, Shouta is going to need your help. He isn’t the softest or most sensitive man. When you become incredibly upset over something seemingly minute, he isn’t sure the best way to help. He worries about sounding dismissive or ignorant. Typically, he doesn’t bother with tactful words, but when it’s the people closest to him suffering, he does want to be attentive, though they may still fail. If words won’t work, he relies on his body to provide comfort. It’s warm and firm— perfect to lay on, crying out the fears, then sleeping away the anxieties.

Yagi Toshinori

As with most other mental illnesses and neurodivergences, Toshinori has read a fair amount on autism as a way to connect and support his fans and those he saves. However, he isn’t a psychiatrist, and he will not ever pretend to be one, so even if he has the slightest inkling you have ADHD or autism or anything really, he refuses to bring it up before you do. Mental health is personal. He won’t take that away from you by coercing you into discussing something you’re not ready for or simply don’t want to. Just know, whenever you feel ready, he’ll be there, listening and supporting you.

Sadly, autism comes with many comorbidities: anxiety, mood disorders, OCD, ADHD, allergies, epilepsy, Tourettes/tic disorders, language, speech, and auditory disorders, gastrointestinal issues, motor and sensory dysfunction, and more that’d take too long to list. So, not only do you have the difficulties autism brings, but you’re also stranded under a dogpile of health issues with seemingly no end. It’s like you’re trapped. Medications measure your day. And pain, frustration, and tears are too common.

This is where Toshi greatly relates to and can understand the daily distress, and since he’s gone through his fair share of health issues himself, he’s able to listen, follow, and help with health-related anxiety. Food you enjoyed a month ago may suddenly feel like crumbling sandpaper in your mouth, infesting you for hours after you spit it out. Yesterday, your stomach was fine. Today, it feels like cement. Tinnitus, tics, and allergies can act up for seemingly no reason other than to spite you. And he hates seeing you push through the worst, most painful symptoms/attacks. However, since he is no longer active as a Pro Hero, he has a little more time to spare. It’s a plus for spending time with and comforting you. For appointments, he’s a great partner to have. He never fails to remember and asks important questions. And, though he’s anxious too, he will share his own fears and struggles with his health, hoping it’ll help you realize you’re not alone.

And because Toshi is required to focus on his health and food intake, he often but very subtly takes on the role of the ‘mom friend.’ Now, he isn’t one to police every little thing you eat. But when your diet starts to only consist of peanut butter and muffins for weeks on end, he gets worried and will cautiously bring it up. He may not fathom how much texture can affect eating habits, and he certainly doesn’t want to sound judgemental, but he’s just worried. The last thing he wants is for you to faint because you’ve hardly eaten. He’s willing to explore different foods from different places to find more of a variety.

Toshi, along with being a great partner for doctor’s appointments, is a great partner for anxiety. He can explain jokes you missed and is open to using any nonverbal cues you need when necessary. Feeling a bit overwhelmed and need to step away for a bit? Tap him on the shoulder a few times. He’ll wait for your return without having to worry. Do you need to leave right now or else you’re going to slip into a meltdown? Grab his hand and squeeze. He’ll understand and guide you someplace less stimulating. Because they’re so big, his jackets are perfect to hide in, away from all the sounds and smells.

The behaviors he worries about are self-injurious stimming. He’s fine with you rocking and bouncing and humming. He won’t even notice them a year or so into the relationship. They’re simply another part of you. It’s when you get overstimulated so much that your fist starts colliding with your head, or you begin scratching to get the inside sensations to go away, or you bite yourself, needing something painful and something to break inbetween your teeth to release the emotions.

The only time he’ll physically restrain you is during a meltdown/panic attack that leads to self-injurious stimming. He’ll grab your hands, positioning you safely against him. Nothing more. Nothing less. It’s hard to see you struggle in his hold, but he can’t risk you seriously harming yourself. Any other time, he’ll remind you to use something else. If you need to pick, a popping toy could help. If you need to bite, chew on some fabric or a necklace designed for it. He doesn’t judge you for any of it. You aren’t bizarre or gross for doing it. He knows it helps get emotions out and only wants you to do it safely.

Navigating touching, cuddling, kissing, and sex can be difficult. Depending on your tiredness and energy level, one specific thing can be too much. Maybe your hands are abnormally susceptible one day, and when Toshi goes to grab them, it’s painful. He hates watching you recoil away. To avoid anything like that again, he’ll always ask if you’re comfortable for touching or signal that he’s about to do it, so you can pull away if you need or want to. He doesn’t think it’s weird to ask for a kiss or hug, no matter how far into the relationship you are. It’s about respect.

Skin-to-skin contact and sex also go along with that. Sometimes, naked spooning feels properly stimulating and refreshing but kissing is way too overloading. It’s sticky, leaving damp smudges to sink into your skin. You have to scrub it away. Yet, the next day, the feelings switch around. Kissing is fine, quite favorable actually, especially having his tongue in your mouth, getting you worked up, but his finger’s sensations when they run down your back or squeeze your hips is agonizing. It’s frustrating, your senses not reacting the same as other people’s.

However, like with everything else, Toshi takes it slow, never really getting annoyed or blaming you. He cares for you. He’s going to take the time to understand your body and reactions better. There are numerous ways you two can have intimacy and sex. All it takes is patience.

Yamada Hizashi

Hizashi can relate to some of your daily struggles. While he may not be autistic, and he knows they aren’t the same thing, he does have ADHD, and that brings its own life problems. Hyperfixations, hyperactivity, sensory issues, stimming, fidgeting, rejection sensitivity, executive dysfunction, and emotional dysregulation are things he can relate to. They all have their ups and downs, and he’s able to help you deal with the downs, especially if you share the compassion back when he’s struggling. He’ll also probably be a little excited to learn your neurodiverse too. Easier communication and more appreciation.

When it comes to your special interests and hyperfixations, Hizashi is your biggest supporter. It doesn’t matter if it’s deemed ‘dumb’ or ‘immature’ by others. It isn’t. Having fun, indulging in something you enjoy isn’t either of those things, especially if it brings you some kind of happiness. And it certainly shouldn’t matter if your SI isn’t ‘useful’ in some way. Loving Scooby-Doo or TMNT doesn’t apply to parts of life. You can still enjoy it. Not everyone is like those autistic, technowizards characters on Tv. ‘Dumb things’ are worth loving too.

Due to his ADHD, he’s prone to understimulation, needing movement, noise, and excitement. He often gets it by singing, listening to music, chewing gum, and moving his arms to and fro. If you also deal with understimulation, he’s a great help. He knows how to stimulate someone plenty. But, if you’re prone to the opposite, it will take time and understanding on both your part’s. He can’t magically become quiet. He’d be suppressing himself. Noise-canceling headphones and a room set aside for you to retreat to are your best options.

He may suggest you two start using reminders. Meds, food, appointments, and general notes are things he forgets for one reason or another. And if you become too engrossed in an activity, it’s more than likely your body isn’t going to register as needing something, whether it be a snack or a bathroom break. If your brains can’t keep track of time, then you can work together so your phones will remember important things for you (it’d also take the stress off of his friends so they don’t have to wait for him once again).

Social cues? You don’t need them with Hizashi. You don’t have to focus on his facial expressions or gestures or tone when he isn’t afraid to shout his feelings towards the heavens. If anything, he’s apt to miss them as well. Though, he misses them because he typically isn’t paying enough attention to catch the subtle eyebrow lift or posture change. When you’re out together and ever wondering if you’re missing something, he isn’t afraid to ask others what’s going on or explain the undertones to you.

The loneliness and distress of navigating a neurotypical world are very hard to describe. You feel out of place, almost wrong, always heeding how your body is positioned, how your brain is taking in everything, and how inane and demanding small banter is. You try to blend in but never feel like you ever do, particularly in groups. It’s so much easier to have one on one time with someone, talking about and sharing your interests, showing you want them to also enjoy your interest because you care. It’s like giving a little piece of yourself over. And Hizashi is anything but unwilling to accept it. He may be extroverted and love people, but he values your time and voice, especially because he knows it isn’t easy to give.

At the end of a long day of masking and socializing, the second you step through the door, a crash is just waiting to happen. It’s not just mental. It’s emotional, physical, and nearly visceral: forced eye contact that wears you thin, dealing with scratchy, strappy clothing, and restraining all your taps and flaps. After hours upon hours, it takes everything. And for what? To repeat it all the next day? Avoid attention? Stockpile stress, anxiety, and tension that’ll lead straight to burnout and leave you incapable of properly functioning?

Hizashi, like any caring partner, is most worried about the last one. He’s had to withhold his drumming and humming He knows how awful those pent-up nerves are once they come flooding out. It hurts. Everything is ten-times louder, ten-times brighter, saturating too deep, too thick, stealing your voice, and leaving you a mess. He does his best to help you to your room and make sure you have water and a light snack. If you need to be alone with the feelings, he understands. He’ll putter around your place, so you don’t have to worry about dishes or sweeping that evening. If you don’t want to be alone, he’ll happily lay with you, providing a nice, warm weight. You can play with his hair, or he can rub a soft blanket along your skin, soothing the ignited nerves.

[overx]

thegatesofinfinitespace​:

Considering it is better than not at all! Psi chooses to take his chances with the offer, leaning back with a grin. It was rare if at all that he’d seen the OVER performing his actual duties. (Outside of those thousands of hours on his monitors, but that wasn’t in the field…)

He watches the reploid struggle to answer in a concise fashion, knowing full well he could not. Verse had been built for something extraordinary, but because of that… it was simply impossible to explain in something easy to comprehend at a glance.

Verse’s question is a simple one, and for that the X relents, flashing a wink. “I think you know that answer. You’re a little curious to see what happens too, aren’t you?”

Having fun indeed. 

When... did they last spend time together like this? Or rather, when was it for Psi? 

“Intentionally sabotaging my systems to see if there is some change?” While the OVER found it unlikely, aside from his... somewhat wondering thoughts, it is interesting to him nonetheless. “...yes, I suppose I am curious.” 

Anything to learn. Maybe that made him an easy target this time around. Not that he truly minded with his present company-- or really could to begin with. Verse slides out of his spot across from Psi momentarily, only to settle in beside the X instead. 

Is it a ploy to apply pressure without asking unpleasant questions? Of course it is, but he wanted the other reploid to continue having a good evening if at all possible. “I never did ask you,” Verse reaches for the bottle on the table, to refill his glass. 

“...when did you realize you were interested in me? Or perhaps how, is a more appropriate question?” He is somewhat unsure exactly which version of this is best to ask. Emotions were far too abstract for Verse to really conceptualize the path that lead them here. The OVER heavily weighed the pros and cons of each action he took, there was no gut feeling. No eureka, nor sudden moments of inspiration.