#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.

[offtorivendell]

What you all seem to be missing is that this isn't even a topic of infertility, it's of delivery. The discussion is NEVER "can Elain get pregnant" because the problem was not "could Feyre get pregnant." The plot introduced into the series was what happens after she became pregnant and carried the baby to term, could a non Illyrian safely deliver a baby with wings which has now carried over into the discussion of Elain since it's canon that Feyre and Nesta were changed while we were not told the same of Elain. It's not a reason Elain can't be with Az but it is a valid topic of discussion within this series since the author posed it as a plotline. In the real world, most women safely choose a Caesarean section if they're dealing with delivery issues in their pregnancy so acting like delivering a winged baby has real world implications is simply you jumping on a pedestal for something to yell about. That's not to say there aren't delivery issues in the real world but this scenario is not one of them.

TW: death, infertility, pregnancy and childbirth related trauma. Also a brief mention of sexual assault.

Hi anon,

Respectfully, please stop being deliberately obtuse. Let's break this down, line by line.

What you all seem to be missing is that this isn't even a topic of infertility, it's of delivery. The discussion is NEVER "can Elain get pregnant" because the problem was not "could Feyre get pregnant."

I'm aware! I assume that you sent me this ask because I reblogged an old post of mine yesterday, so what you seem to be missing is that I've already discussed this.

Here, where I implicitly acknowledged both infertility and trauma related to pregnancy and childbirth as potential triggers in the post:

And here, where I explicitly stated that we know you guys don't mean that Elain is unable to conceive at all - which is impossible to know, as per the text she hasn't tried. If you read what I wrote, you'd see I said that - assuming Nesta had not changed her anatomy and would not be able to in the future, or that Elriel would even conceive winged children if they wanted kids at all - Elain and Azriel together would be functionally infertile*, as any child with wings (which is not a guarantee, by the way, though as you guys treat it as a foregone conclusion I worked off that premise) would die before or during birth, killing Elain at the same time.

* Is it more correct to say they'd suffer from "impaired fecundity"? Yes! But please read a little further.

The plot introduced into the series was what happens after she became pregnant and carried the baby to term, could a non Illyrian safely deliver a baby with wings which has now carried over into the discussion of Elain since it's canon that Feyre and Nesta were changed while we were not told the same of Elain.

It's really not hard to understand that we are discussing a fictional woman's ability to successfully have a specific man's children, and that their impaired fecundity does not (or should not) impact her worthiness to be loved by that man; that it has been equated to the struggles that many real, living people have experienced with regards to conceiving, carrying their babies to term and giving birth; and that - while an oversimplification - all these issues are being lumped under the umbrella of "infertility struggles" to be concise and accessible.

That being said, let me correct you quickly. While you very carefully said that we were "not told the same of Elain," with regards to Nesta changing her anatomy, you neglected to mention that SJM actually had her choose wording that didn't explicitly exclude Elain from the change, either.

The brisk spring wind whipped her golden-brown hair across her face. “I gave it back to the Cauldron in exchange for the knowledge of how to save them.” She swallowed. “But a little remains. I think something else—someone else—stopped the Cauldron from taking all of it. And I made some changes of my own.” The Mother. The only being who would see the sacrifice Nesta had made and give a little back. Perhaps it was she who had peered out at them through the Mask. “What did you change?” Nesta rested a hand on her abdomen. “I changed myself a little, too. So none of us will have to go through this again.” - ACOSF, chapter 78

Also of note, Nesta specified she had the "knowledge" to perform the change, which suggests that even if Elain wasn't changed then, it could be done in the future.

It's not a reason Elain can't be with Az...

Literally all that ever needs to be said on the topic.

... but it is a valid topic of discussion within this series since the author posed it as a plotline.

You should have stopped after the first half of the sentence. Elain's lack of pliable bones - ie. the second half of the "Illyrian womb" discussion that posits Gwyn as the only logical love interest - is not even a medically accurate theory, so it shouldn't be entertained full stop. While SJM may have posed Illyrian womb/wing issues as an issue for Feyre and Rhys, she never suggested it would impact any couple's decision to get or stay together. In fact, Nesta and Cassian were mates while Nesta was still unable to birth winged babies, too.

In the real world, most women safely choose a Caesarean section if they're dealing with delivery issues in their pregnancy so acting like delivering a winged baby has real world implications is simply you jumping on a pedestal for something to yell about. That's not to say there aren't delivery issues in the real world but this scenario is not one of them.

Once again I'm asking you to put your thinking cap on.

Obviously we do not have to consider the delivery of winged babies in the real world, but if you cannot see how the frequent suggestion (that Elain's hypothetical inability to successfully have Azriel's children is a valid reason as to why an author would separate, or even hint at separating, a potential couple) could be hurtful and upsetting to the many people who have/are currently struggling with infertility - or who have lost their much wanted and loved babies during the course of pregnancy or childbirth - then I have to assume that you're either suffering from a catastrophic lack of empathy or, respectfully, you have a sheep or two loose in the top paddock.

As I mentioned in the post I linked above, if the fandom is (rightfully!) expected to handle the topic of Gwyn finding love after experiencing SA with grace - out of respect for real life assault survivors - then it is not wrong to expect the same degree of care in return when discussing the anatomy change in ACOSF, out of respect for those who have trauma associated with infertility, pregnancy and childbirth in real life. It's an incredibly simple act to listen in good faith, rather than jumping straight to accusing us of wanting to "yell about" something just because you are prioritising shipping discourse over being kind.

It's 2025, the "Elain doesn't have an Illyrian womb or pliable bones" theory is both medically inaccurate and hurtful, and it really needs to end here.

Please.

[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 [��다], 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. ]

[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.]

[lilkrissmuffet]

Hey how are you doing so imagine the butterfly bio female get into an intense heat one night, she can help but think about cell while touching herself but feels unsatisfied so decides to sneak outside her creators house to see him, and beg him to take her and her pheromones are strong enought to get him in the mood ?

Short answer? Her 'creator' ain't getting her back 😂

Longer, more satisfying answer:

Mother had warned you time and time again. That he was too dangerous, too unpredictable. Even if he had ultimately decided to spare this wretched planet a terrible fate, Perfect Cell was still not to be trusted.

Not like that would stop you tonight.

You were on fire. Burning from the tips of your butterfly wings to the biological core deep within, the one that separated you from all of Mother's other, clunky, mechanical creations. They had no soul, no heat. Not like you.

Now that same heat was consuming you in your own bed, more powerful than your programming could ever hope to override. And you knew exactly how to douse the flames. Drifting towards and through the open window, moonlight fills your iridescent wings like delicate stained glass. You knew that your body was not built with fragility in mind, but your heart had yet to be tested. Part of you hoped he might be gentle.

Another part didn't care.

~

"How did you manage to find me, little one?", Cell wonders, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. He almost seems impressed. "Why, I thought I had sufficiently suppressed my-"

"Pheromones." You answer simply, concisely, sounding every bit like Mother even if you have yet to realize it. "You and I both share entomological DNA, yes? Therefore, you release pheromones, just as I do. I do not need to detect energy signatures when I can simply smell you from miles away."

You found him standing sentinel atop the roof of the tallest skyscraper in West City. His eyes had been closed then, deep in thought. But now here you were, practically demanding his attention.

"Huh. And you were desperate enough to come all the way up here to see me? How cute..."

You can practically hear the glimmer of sharp, white teeth revealed by his grin as Cell snatches your tiny wrists and yanks you into his arms. You gasp softly, a mere fly in his web, your cheek pressed to his hard, armored chest. He's surprisingly warm, his low, deep voice rumbling from within.

"Mm. Now that you mention it...you do seem to carry a most delectable scent, my dear." The tips of Cell's claws trace up the length of your spine to the base of your wings. He chuckles quietly when you shiver in his tightening grasp.

"Do you think you can...assist me with my problem, Mr. Cell?", you ask timidly, your own words breathless and heavy with the weight of your need. He can feel the heat through your synthetic flesh, and it beckons him like nothing else.

"Look at me, pet." The android purrs, deftly slipping his other hand beneath your chin, arching your slender neck to meet his magenta gaze, "That's Mr. Perfect Cell to you...But if you really want to know what I think..."

He leans down then, tilting your head to the side to brush his impossibly smooth lips against the willowy antennae-like appendages that serve as your ears. Sound is not the only thing they're sensitive to- your body quivers like a lone leaf on a branch at Cell's touch, his long fingers seeking out the source of that ever-enticing aroma. A honeyed ambrosia that teases a hunger into his voice, so raw that you'd never expect it.

"I think," he growls, suddenly spinning around and dipping you back over the edge of the roof like a dancer, his movements graceful and swift. Pressing a deceptively chaste kiss to the hollow of your throat, he allows you to dangle above the city while his mouth lingers, savoring the taste of your skin. You fall silent with shock, staring up at the moon with stars in your eyes until terror screws them shut. Stimulates your vocal cords to cry out into the night.

"You should've listened to your mother."

💚

[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

[superconductivebean]

#1584: Quillbot & AI Shenanigans

Have you ever got a strange result from this website, when put your certainly human text and received either an accusation of generating, or refining with AI? I am choosing Quillbot specifically for this as it claims to use an advanced… something… for catching other LLMs.

I have written a small fanfic recently. No idea how it performs on the readability front and in comparison to my earlier, weaker works, but I was curious if my slightly changed style—'style'—would get flagged.

It got flagged as Human-written & AI-refined. Had done no such thing, I decided to try and explain Quillbot's weird judgement to myself, but alas. Linguistics & AI-detection post it is, again.

My supposition was, stricter adherence to the grammar rules might have yielded me a percentage of AI. Now, my command is objectively advanced, but it is foreign and has its own little voice, too; it saves me from falling into probability matrixes of LLMs—Language Learning Machines.

What's the probability matrix? How do I explain. In my previous posts, I pointed out that the LLM will construct an output based on a token, a context word, around which lt grows he syntactical muscle.

How does it do that?

Apart from Burstiness and Perplexity parameters, which regulate the choice of words (P) and syntactical-contextual variance (B), it uses tokens.

A token is a unit of memory and it is not a word. LLMs do not operate with words; tokens are used to determine which words and grammar should go together for a given query. It is all, plainly speaking, a cloud of tags surrounding a tag (or tags) taken from the prompt. The LLM does not know what dog is is or what the prompt is; it navigates an intricate web of connection between words and is obviously unable to become the second James Joyce or stallion stool twenty eight.

It literally can't choose to go mad with the language because it does not understand the language at all. What it has of it is mathematics.

Choosing which tag should go next is the problem any given LLM solves. This problem is called either next word prediction, or next sentence prediction; sometimes, the LLM can be tasked to solve both. Hence why I and many others call LLMs sophisticated T9s.

I hope it made sense.

Anyhow, these choices are then composed into a neat probability matrix, from which an LLM will pull combinations most likely to occur within certain syntactical constructs. You can already sense that grammar is determined by math, too, but also, for the reasons of clarity, LLM opt out from using passive voice almost completely and rarely uses prepositional phrases, preferring participles and other modifiers to deeply contextualised variants of the language use.

Goes without mention that a LLM can only use so much tokens. This memory issue is apparent and thus an output of any LLM today is an approximation to the form of the naturally produced language unit.

LLM a pinnacle of computational linguistics. It is a technological wonder; but it is a terrible writer and in no sense it is intelligent.

LLM's matrix of probabilities absolutely includes something a human can come up with, too, hence the false positives. It usually occurs to the people in preference of simpler, concise, or mechanical language. Any constriction in the use of the language naturally creates a case of style, in other words, you are locked to a certain stylistic framework.

And it is fine.

But is also something that simply does not occur outside of certain linguistic contexts.

(it's so strange not many people are aware of this; but, truth be told, people equate tokens with words, too, and believe in all sorts of sci-fi where LLMs are capable of writing or being impossible to tell from a human…).

Anyway.

The art of writing literary in English has been severely damaged by the atrocity called The Elements of Style, first published in 1918. Before I am put on stakes: this book ventures into composition but never explains syntax in fine enough detail, yet is treated like a must-adhere style guide despite being wrong on the very premise. i am also growing salt on my back at the sight of prescrptivistsssssss hisssssssssss

It is going to be a speculation on my part (or, maybe, an educated guess?), but I suppose this book was taken into the account quite heavily, as LLMs prefer to give outputs that follow many of its advice.

So.

My fanfic. Quillbot. Yes.

I wrote all this as a short introduction for my concerns about Quillbot.

My results were interesting, to say the least.

Quillbot does not like M-dashes when you are using them as a parenthesis clause/phrase or exclamatory phrases.

An example of this:

In Quillbot's opinion, my improvised parenthesis is suspicious. But why?

My hypothesis: when you are adding something and it seems being weird/10, AI detector will get confused. Dreadfully so.

I was at loss for a brief moment until I decided to consult with the only entity in existence that understands how to process text better than most.

Another LLM.

So I asked it to reformulate what I had written and… It was not able to understand the context behind invoking Christ in the middle of the lesbianisme accidental scene; it straight up misses the narrative context of this parenthesis! It does not understand!!11!

But isn't Quillbot an algorithm? I think it's a LLM trained to catch other LLMs based on comparing probability matrixes. It is a LLM, too, but you can't chat with it thus you can't learn its opinion or see the exact math behind its assessment.

Quillbot points at what it supposes should either be a line of speech, or a thought, but not part of Julia's perception of the Extremely-Bad-And-Not-At-All-Hot dirty talk from Imelda in that scene.

Another example:

The M-dash is used correctly. What gives? I don't know. Removing "a truly" or the dash solves the issue but is it truly the 'problem' here?

It might coincide with the observation that LLMs also like to use M-dashes. There are accounts of people using M-dashes abundantly and being accused for copying off GPT "because GPT also loves M-dashes", or—at the very least—can use them correctly in a sentence.

I hope it is evident that this argument—correct or advanced grammar used 'unprompted' means LLM—is insound and, frankly, idiotic?..

I said it many times and I will say it again: a LLM is many different things; it is a language model, it is complex, albeit not linguistically. Mathematically. You learn to spot it in the same way you are able to tell apart accents or dialects. Math has its own: direct, probable, and in a sense, highly predetermined. An M-dash can or may not appear in the output depending on the style of speech, but in and of itself is not indicative of anything but alright grammar.

Quillbot has something against Russiаn sentences.

What's Russiаn sentence? It's a complex sentence with a subordinate clause and a participle phrase; this designation is my own, if you got confused. Example sentence:

Ink escapes the pen as it touches the paper, spreading in a puddle around its steel nib.

You may remember one of my posts mentioned LLMs like participle phrases. Quillbot was convinced 'spreading' had to do with AI, but it was also alerted at my words choice in the next sentence, too:

"How does one even compose a letter like this?" Imelda thinks.

Changing compose to write solves the issue as well as reformulating previous sentences into two simple sentences or what could have I.

In my mind, composing generally means building a composition or a framework; for me, it does not exist as a formal word that should be used sparingly and carefully as to not create syntactical oopsies of the Wrong Usage Case kind. Quillbot was useful in catching that, but only minisulely so, and that is the reason why I write this post.

Quillbot could've been used as a strictly mathematical tool for catching improbable words.

Styles can be turned into mathematics, and frankly, LLMs would do better if they are turned into a style advisors as it is what an LLM can theoretically do well enough. It already does, to an extent.

But.

LLMs—computers—are only as good as people make them to be. You know what it means. They're bad. And they will remain bad. Trusting their judgement blindly is a mistake—but so is disregard its flare ups; a tool needs to be studied, no?

[vipier-a]

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

[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.

[realcube]

you flinch during an argument pt2

navi | masterlist | part one

thank you to anon for this request

characters ♡ sugawara, bokuto & akaashi

tw ♡ cursing, angst, mentions of abuse, hurt to comfort, hinted ptss, mentions of ashes/cremation & parent! reader in bokuto’s

KŌSHI SUGAWARA

♡ a grimace; the expression sugawara had been wearing for the last 10 minutes as he bickered with you in the kitchen while cooking his meal prep

♡ “i just don’t understand why you need to study for hours on end. at this point, i think you’re just making excuses to avoid me.” sugawara spoke, his incomprehensible tone making it impossible for you to decipher whether he was being kind or condescending, or whether that last comment was supposed to be a joke

♡ “why would i do that?” you inquired innocently, keeping your gaze fixated on preparing your own meal. honestly, he didn’t deserve even a shred of your attention after elongating the conversation to no end. “exams are less than a week away and if i don’t pass then the last two years will have been for nothing. not that i’d expect you to understand.”

♡ you acknowledged that was a low blow, but your mind told you to just blurt out the first thing that you knew would make him shut up, and it unfortunately worked. 

♡ immediately feeling a wave of wave of regret wash over you, you shuffled over to his place at the kitchen counter, pressing your cheek to his arm to show affection before muttering, “sorry, i didn’t mean that. please don’t take it personally, kōshi.”

♡ usually an act like that would put an end to one of your silly squabbles but today was different

♡ out of the corner of your eye, you noticed something come flying towards you and — contextually — it didn’t take long for you to figure out that it was sugawara’s hand 

♡ that was enough reason your mind need to take the following course of action: your arms shot up to shield your the side of your face while your knees bent, brining you closer to the ground while your eyelids squeezed shut

♡ although after a few without the expected impact, your eyes fluttered open and you dropped your guard, allowing yourself a few moments to collect yourself before looking up at your boyfriend who’s demeanour had changed completely from a few seconds ago 

♡ now, his face was pale and his jaw was tight. as for his eyes, not so long ago they were faux-soft, now it was as if he had witnessed a crime; his pupils were constricted and his eyes were wide. he still stood tall as always but he appeared to be frozen in place, with his arm — that you had deemed a threat — looming above your head 

♡ you glanced up for a moment just to take a look, and upon noticing how his hand was cupped, you realised that his intention was to pat your head. it was a gentle gesture which he did often to show affection so you couldn’t help but wonder why you’d ever assume he was going to inflict harm on you 

♡ “(y/n)!” he finally managed to choke out, hastily retracting his hand back to his side, “are you alright?” 

♡ you were unsure as to why he was asking such a question, considering that he didn’t even lay a finger on you, but you answered none the less, “i’m fine, are you?” 

♡ it was clear that you didn’t think much of your actions, which made sugawara even more concerned. if he were to be completely honest, he wanted nothing more than to pull you into a hug and prattle on about how much he loved you and how he would protect you with his life for hours on end, but he knew that’d be an immature way to deal with such a situation so acting in an adult fashion, he stood at a respectable distance from you and spoke concisely

♡ “why’d you flinch?” he blurted out, feeling like a complete idiot as you replied almost immediately with, “i’m not sure.”

♡ your nonchalant and unaffected attitude made him wonder if he was making a big deal out of your simple action, since you didn’t seem that bothered by it at all. however, his morals spoke louder than logic and told him that he needed to resolve this issue, even you didn’t view it as such.

♡ “i swear i’d never do something like that.” was all he could think to say. so he decided it was best to stay silent right now, allowing you to head up to your room to study without another word spoken. 

♡ the next hour or so was spent trying to think of something to say to you. evidently, he was at a loss for words and all he could do was bury his face into his arms and mentally curse himself for being so confrontational over such a trivial problem

♡ eventually, he came to the conclusion that you’d probably want some space so for now, he’d allow you to study in peace and come out to talk when you are ready 

♡ but he is still sugawara, so expect there to be a place of sliced fruits outside your bedroom accompanied by a little motivational note 

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO 

♡ arguments with bokuto only came once every blue moon since you both seemed to agree almost all the time, and even when you didn’t, bokuto would either apologise within less than a minute or simply oblige because he hates seeing you mad at him, or just mad in general 

♡ but sometimes — no matter how much he apologised — you’d still resent him for whatever he did, and a part of him just felt like that was so unfair. perhaps it was a childish thought, but why can’t you just understand that he made a mistake and move on? after all, he always learns and it’s rare that he makes the same mistake twice, so why are you still angry?

♡ plus, he always forgives you immediately when you do something wrong. he just wanted the same treatment and he realised this at the worst moment possible.

♡ “saying sorry won’t fix it!” you barked, wiping away the tears as they fell from your lashline. your skin felt like it was on fire but you paid no mind, just focussing on remaining stable and not losing yourself to a crying fit, “it’s gone forever now, i hope you are happy.”

♡ bokuto seeing you upset more than anything, and knowing that he was the cause of your tears only made things worse. he felt so worthless. 

♡ the only words combatting the voice in his head telling him that he couldn’t do anything right, were the ones reassuring him that it was simply an accident and that if he had known that there were ashes in that jar, he would’ve been more careful when walking around it. 

♡ “i don’t know why i take this from you.” he muttered under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear. of course, you thought you had misheard him as you knew him better than to say something so audacious, “huh?”

♡ “i don’t know why i take this from you!” he repeated, but this time he lunged forward to yell it right in your face so you’d hear him for sure. “there’s nothing i can do to fix it now, so why can’t you just forgive me?! i’m so sorry and i’d do anything to make it up to you yet you are still so fucking nasty to me! no one wants to be with a stubborn bitch!” 

♡ blinded by rage, it took him a few moments to realise that you weren’t standing as you were before he lunged at you, but rather you had stumbled backwards and were now on the ground with your hands raised in defence

♡ as much as he wanted to continue with his momentum and yell at you while you were down, his subconscious acted fist by outstretching his hand to help you up, “(y/n), why are y--”

♡ he cut himself off as something finally clicked in his mind, helping him realise that he was the reason you were on the ground. you must’ve flinched and fell backwards when he suddenly moved towards you, but why? i mean, it’s not like he was gonna hurt you. so were you just surprised? well, if you were just shocked by his movements you probably wouldn’t be defensive and appear terrified.

♡ upon coming to this conclusion, bokuto dropped down to his knees and shuffled towards you, evidently having calmed down as his cheeks were no longer red with fury and his eyebrows had separated. 

♡ “i’m so sorry.” he mused with wide-eyes, his blank expression and stare kinda scaring you as not even for a moment did he release you from his gaze.

♡ ‘sorry’ appeared to be the word of the day

♡ “i’m sorry too, kō.” you admitted, lowering your head and allowing the hair that hung down in front of your face to shield you from bokuto’s penetrating stare. “i know you didn’t break it on purpose, so of course you are forgiven.” you knew the feeling of frustration all too well, and you were ashamed that you were cause of it for bokuto.

♡ like magic, your statement pulled bokuto out of his trance and back to reality, where he was able to beam and throw his arms open to offer you a hug, “you don’t need to apologise. c’mere!”

♡ you hesitated at first, but there was truly nothing more comforting than the sight of bokuto’s bright smile and glistening cheeks under the golden sunlight which seeped in from passed the blinds; it was almost angelic. hence you found yourself leaning into his arms without a second thought, finding solace in the way his shaky breath tickled the warm skin of your neck

♡ though he didn’t say much in the moment, the image of you cowering in fear away from him will permanently be inked into his mind 

♡ but that’s not to say his words didn’t have an effect on you

♡ your kid grew up knowing endless forgiveness and tolerance from both you and bokuto, as whenever you saw your son’s golden eyes gaze up at you through a stream of tears, all you could see was bokuto, and all you could hear was him calling you a stubborn bitch 

♡ it was almost funny how your brain made that correlation, but rather than laugh, you simply smiled and kneeled down in front of your son, cupping his cheek in your hand, “it’s fine. i forgive you.”

♡ the poor boys glossy gaze flickered between you and the shards of the mug he had chosen for you scattered across the floor

♡ his teeth gritted together, presenting an expression of anguish which was only highlighted by both of his fist curling into balls before he lunged forward to throw his arms over your shoulders and bawl into your chest, “i’m so sorry!”

♡ you pouted, glancing between your son and bokuto who just stood with an awkward smile on his face, watching the scene while knowing full well that it was mostly his fault for entrusting a fragile mug to a four-year-old 

♡ although, it wasn’t as if you could stay mad at either of them; you love them too much

KEIJI AKAASHI

♡ arguments with akaashi were rare. after all, communication is key in a relationship and he ensures that you both tell each other everything. hence you can see the irony in the situation where his order of transparency is exactly the reason you were so pissed off.

♡ “please tell me what’s wrong, dear.” akaashi almost whispered, trailing behind you like lost puppy while you stormed towards your front door in order to lead him out

♡ “i’m tired, i said i‘ll tell you later.” you groaned, feeling guilty for being so impatient with him but you truly didn’t have the energy to argue or explain how you were feeling tonight. really all you wanted was to get some rest and discuss everything in the morning but akaashi clearly felt like there was something deeper that needed to be unpacked first.

♡ “you say that but you’ll probably be too tired tomorrow as well.”

♡ you quirked a brow, taking a pause and leaning against your doorframe just as you were about to lock him out, “and so what if am? goodnight."

♡ “don’t be immature.” each word sharper than the last, they stung your eyes.

♡ “tomorrow, akaashi. love yo—"

♡ the next few moments were a blur. It was as though your body reacted on it’s own to seeing akaashi reach out towards your face, so without a moment of consideration, you found yourself jerking away from his touch; appearing alarmed while your heart rate skyrocketed for reasons beyond your knowledge

♡ once your mind was finally able to comprehend what happened and absorb the context, it didn’t take long for you to figure out that he outstretched his hand so he could tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ears, an act of affection he performs often yet it just happened to slip your mind

♡ akaashi yanked his arm back to his side, staring at his hand — eyes filled with disgust — as if he were presented with a murder weapon. despite that, his self-loathing was short-lived as he immediately inquired, “are you okay? do you need water?” he wasn’t really familiar with the ideal procedure he should take in a situation like this, so he used his judgment which told him that water was the solution to most problems, hence this should be no different.

♡ before you could deny his offer, he was already rummaging through his satchel in search of his water bottle, and once he found it he was quick to hand it to you

♡ after taking a few sips of water, you placed his bottle back in his bag and zipped it up for him, “thank you.” you murmured, not sure as to whether you should apologise or just play it off as if nothing happened. however, guessing by the dazed look in akaashi’s eyes, it would be safe to assume that these events have been permanently inked into his memory

♡ for the first time ever, he was truly at a loss. usually people would look to him when in trouble – or even danger – but now he was the threat, the cause of your stress

♡ perhaps it was because of how long you’ve been together, or maybe it was due to the fact you converse so often with him, but you could read akaashi like an open book. where others see a deadpan, dull setter; you see your boyfriend who is just in desperate need of affirmation from time to time

♡ a few minutes ago, you could’ve sworn you didn’t have enough energy to smile or communicate your feelings but here you were now, wearing the sweetest grin you could muster and humming in a honeyed voice, “i really do love you, keiji. and i’m not afraid of you either.” to emphasise your point, you leaned forward to plant a brief kiss on his cheek and tuck an imaginary loose strand of hair behind his ear, all while he stood speechless. not that you expected a reply anyway.

♡ “i love you too, dear.” akaashi finally uttered after an elongated period of silence.

♡ it was amazing how much you could tell simply from his eyes. his irises no longer vibrated as if they were pending an eruption, and pity behind his gaze seemed to have dissipated slightly. there was still somewhat of a glassy look to them, but he could say the same about yours.

♡ “goodnight. i’ll message you in the morning.” he smiled, mimicking the kindness in yours well as he turned around, promptly heading towards the bus stop with a final wave of his hand

♡ and he didn’t lie either. not only did he text you goodnight again, at exactly 6AM you received a notification from none other than akaashi himself reading:

♡ ‘good morning, sweetheart <3  how’d you sleep? i’m about to head to the shop, do you need anything?’

♡ although you denied his offer, he ended up buying you your favourite drink anyway