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andypantsx3 · 7 months ago

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SOMETHING IN THE WATER | 6 | SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems. TAGS/WARNINGS: mermaid au, interspecies relationships, mating rituals/courting behavior, (sort of) case fic, aged up characters, eventual smut, fem pronouns/afab reader LENGTH: 3.7k of est. 27k, 6th of 8 chapters

Shouto was waiting on the shore when you returned, mismatched gaze pinned on you as you stepped out of the trees. He seemed to know from your expression that you’d found exactly what you’d been looking for.

“It is what you wanted, then,” he said.

You could feel a grimace overtake your features. “Not what I wanted, exactly, but it is what I expected to find.”

A clawed hand reached out to catch your ankle as you stepped out of the shade onto the hot sand. You could see the impression of Shouto’s tail in the sand where he’d dragged himself from the water, a thick line of disturbed beach. He peered up at you, thumb pressing into the hollow behind your ankle bone.

“They’re polluting this place and they’re trying to hide it,” you said, your mouth pulling into a thin line. “They’ve dammed off that lagoon for now but it’s not going to hold forever. And they’ve already killed off everything in it.”

Shouto’s claws rasped lightly over the skin of your ankle. “You are upset.”

You glanced down at him, finding his handsome face concerned. “I’m—angry, I guess, yeah. Especially now that I know you and your whole pod are here. It’s bad enough thinking of what this is going to do to all the local populations, but to think of you getting sick…”

Shouto’s long eyelashes fluttered as he took a slow breath. You carefully studied the sand next to him so you didn’t watch the way the muscles of his chest flexed and relaxed as he did so. “You want to protect me,” he concluded, something strange in his tone.

Your face flushed hot. “Well, yeah.”

Shouto’s expression went carefully blank, like he was trying not to look too pleased. Instead, he reached out a hand, taking yours, prying it open to reveal the sample kit containing a bleached chunk of coral you’d cut off the poisoned reef. “And you will keep the coral I gave you,” Shouto said.

You nodded, blinking in surprise. In your momentary funk you’d almost forgotten the underlying reason for your visit here—Shouto had given you something that would have taken him hours to get. Something he’d have had to pull himself through the forest on his arms alone for, something he too would have had to have waded into a poisoned reef for—and that had to mean something significant.

You doubted it was a token of friendship, as you’d first assumed. But then—what would be the cultural significance of the gift?

Shouto’s thumb petted over the hollow of your ankle bone again. “And you will wear them.”

You nodded absently, suppressing a shiver at the feeling of his touch.

“Yes, when I get back to my room I’ll scrounge up something to wear them on,” you promised.

Shouto’s expression shifted into something satisfied. “With dinner and a movie,” he said.

You stared at him. “You want—right now?”

“Right now,” he echoed, nodding seriously. His features rearranged themselves into a mask of determination.

You laughed at the expression, like a movie was some great hurdle to overcome, some life-or-death mission.

Well, you supposed a promise was a promise. And it was nearing dinner time.

Your mind instantly began to churn with plans. You’d have to dock the boat and beg off the meal with the science crew, figure out when and how to tell them about the poisoned lagoon, find a meal somewhere that Shouto could digest, meet him back at the beach, steal a wheelbarrow, and figure out how not to get caught.

“Alright, a deal’s a deal,” you decided.

An almost triumphant smile teased at the edge of Shouto’s mouth.

His hand left your ankle and he followed you back across the sand down to the water, slithering agiley like a handsome snake. He supervised you as you stuffed all your things back into your dry bag, then slipped into the water, keeping pace alongside you as you swam out to where you’d anchored the boat.

He pulled himself in after you, and boated most of the way back to the dock with you. He only slid back into the water when you shooed him off just out of sight of the port, promising to meet him back on the beach in front of the inn.

You docked the boat in town, then poked through a couple take-away food stalls for something that seemed like it wouldn’t mess with Shouto’s digestion. Stifling a wry grin, you settled on a sushi vendor, picking out a few basic rolls with local fish and a seaweed salad that you and Shouto could split.

You trekked back to the inn, stowing your food in your room, then poking your head into Yu’s room to let her know you’d finished up on the water, but weren’t feeling well and were going to sit out dinner.

Once you’d also verified Izuku was nowhere to be seen and that Inko was safely installed in the front office, you crept over to the maintenance shed. The door was unlatched—probably a product of living on such a small island with little crime—and you helped yourself to the wheelbarrow and an ancient tarp wedged underneath several old planters.

Shouto was waiting for you just off the beach, that head of red and white pair poking out of the water inquisitively as you approached. He eyed the wheelbarrow with suspicion, even as he hauled himself up on shore.

“What is that,” he asked, flatter than a question.

“Your chariot awaits, good sir,” you joked, gesturing at it.

A red eyebrow went up, Shouto’s mismatched gaze pinning on it with distrust. “I do not think I like chariots.”

You laughed. “It’s actually called a wheelbarrow—it’s used to haul heavy stuff. And you most definitely qualify as heavy stuff. I’m not strong enough to carry you all the way back to my room.”

Shouto’s eyes slid over the muscle of your arm assessingly. “Humans,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You cannot swim, fight, or lift things. It is a wonder you survive at all.”

You poked him with a sneakered toe. “Hey, I can too swim and lift things.”

Shouto’s pointed non-reply was answer enough and you huffed out a laugh.

“I will do it for you,” Shouto decided. “The swimming and fighting and lifting.”

For some reason this made you flush. “I—there will be no fighting on my watch.”

Shouto’s mouth quirked. In lieu of another answer he reached out an arm, gripping the side of the wheelbarrow. Your mouth went a little dry as you watched the muscles in his arm activate, and you just barely remembered to hold the wheelbarrow steady as he pulled himself in, biceps cording.

He was far too large for it, the bulk of his muscle and broad shoulders taking up nearly the entire thing, leaving his tail to drape out and drag along the sand. There was no way the tarp was going to cover enough of him.

“Okay, let’s wrap this around your tail, at least, in case anyone sees us,” you decided, spreading it out over his waist like a blanket. He looked a little goofy, and possibly a million percent more suspicious with the tarp dragging after him on the ground, but it was the best you were going to get, probably.

“So how long can you last out of salt water, do you know?” you asked, wheeling him around and heading up the beach. You figured it had to be a couple hours considering how long it must have taken him to reach the coral he’d given you, but you hated the thought of him getting uncomfortable.

“A long time. Close to a day I think,” he said.

“Wow, and you don’t dry out?” you asked.

He tipped his head back to look at you as you wheeled him, wet hair dripping into the wheelbarrow. “I do, but it takes some time.”

“And you’re not uncomfortable?” you grunted out the question, shoving him up the incline towards your room.

“Not for a long while,” he said.

Well that was good. You probably wouldn’t need to set him up in the tub then. It would be nice to eat your sushi somewhere other than the bathroom.

You were panting by the time you got Shouto up the hill, and it was an even larger production getting him through the door. It was only when you finally wheeled him inside, watching him peer around your room curiously, that you realized your seating options were limited. You were possessed of a single chair, currently occupied by your suitcase—and Shouto was far too large for it besides.

Something flipped in your stomach as your eyes were drawn towards your bed.

Like he could sense your sudden hesitance, Shouto turned to you, mismatched gaze pinning on you with a startling focus.

“You are nervous,” he observed.

You could feel your face heat. “Well I don’t exactly wheel mermen back to my room every day of the week.”

Shouto’s mouth pulled like he did not like the image of that. He grasped the sides of the wheelbarrow with clawed fingers, hefting himself out and slithering to your floor. You stared at the sight of him perched there on the rug, eyebrows lifting when he reached out a hand and drew your sitting chair towards him.

Instead of climbing in, however, he flipped open the top of your suitcase, peering in curiously.

You watched him flip a book over then ease it aside, rifling through your bag of clean socks and shorts. You sputtered when Shouto’s long fingers unearthed a bra, his head tilting.

“Nosy!” you squeaked, darting forward to throw your suitcase shut again. You didn’t know why you were so embarrassed, but you desperately hoped merpeople did not know the difference between swimwear and underthings.

Shouto’s frown was almost too cute to be borne. He looked up at you, his hand going to your ankle, as it always did.

“You do not have anything to bind the coral with,” he said, sounding a little pouty again.

Oh. So that’s what he’d been looking for.

You nudged his other hand aside, unzipping the pocket where you’d stored a few pieces of jewelry. You hadn’t brought many on the assumption that you’d mostly be working, but you’d brought enough to be useful. Shouto watched with some interest as you unclipped the chain of a necklace, sliding off the charm and storing it in your bag again.

His eyes followed you as you stepped away to your nightstand, where you’d stowed the coral he’d brought you. Immediately, you realized there was a problem.

“Uh, we might have to wait a couple more days until I can find a way to put a hole in these,” you said, gesturing with the pieces.

Shouto’s heavy tail made a scraping sound as he dragged himself across the carpet to you again. You plopped down on the edge of the bed so as not to tower over him, holding out the coral to him. Shouto angled his claws carefully away from your palm as he took a shard in his long fingers, the bleached white of it standing out starkly against the crimson of his coloring there.

Shouto’s handsome face stilled in careful concentration as he angled his pinky claw carefully, so that just the point of it pressed to a corner of the piece. You watched in fascination as he pressed down, and his claw bore right through—piercing it shockingly easily.

Your stomach flipped, and you recalled the first time you’d seen Shouto—how deadly those claws had seemed. Weeks into your friendship, you’d realized you’d been so focused on his most human of qualities—his beautiful face, inadvertently funny manner, his sweet thoughtfulness. But here was a reminder that he was also something far more than a man—possibly one of the most dangerous things in these waters.

Your heart beat a little faster as Shouto did the same to the next piece of coral, and you looped the necklace chain through them. There was a sort of dark, satisfied look in Shouto’s eye as you clasped it around your neck. A clawed finger gently touched your sternum, lifting the coral for Shouto’s inspection.

“Good,” he rumbled, looking pleased. His finger was warm against your skin, and you wondered if he could feel how quickly your heart was beating against it.

For some reason you felt your face warm. You stilled under Shouto’s touch until he let the coral drop back against your skin, seeming gratified.

Clearing your throat, you quickly rose from the bed, gesturing Shouto onto it.

“I’ll, um, grab our food,” you told him, hoping you sounded normal. “And get my laptop to pick out the movie. Just, uh, make yourself comfortable.”

You pointedly did not watch as Shouto levered himself up on the strength of those arms, instead unearthing the sushi from your room’s miniscule fridge, along with two bottles of water. You piled it all on your laptop like a tray, then turned back to Shouto.

He was far too large for your bed, laid out across it like a sunbathing model. His tail was far too long, draping off the end in a sweeping fan of scarlet and white. Your eyes traced the line of his tail back up the bed, up to where the scales freckled into the taught muscle of Shouto’s abdomen, fair skin all but glowing in the fading summer daylight, the shadows swirling and pooling in the divots of the muscle like water.

You flushed again at the sight of all of that laid out in your bed, waiting for you. You reminded yourself that he did not have the cultural context you did for sharing a bed, and that you were just splitting food. And he was another species, besides, no matter how human his upper half looked.

You very deliberately did not think about the fact that his sister had a human husband.

Shouto wriggled back against the headboard as you approached, and you clambered in next to him, careful not to brush his arm as you did. You set the sushi between you like a shield, then flipped open your laptop, wondering what kind of movie a merman might like.

“Um, got any requests?” you asked him.

Shouto’s mismatched eyes pinned on you. “I want to watch whatever you want to watch.”

Well that was no help. You wracked your brain for options, blinking when you remembered you’d told Shouto that he’d probably find human movies about merpeople funny. An idea formed.

Shouto watched with interest as your fingers clacked across the keys, alternately watching the movement of them and the windows that appeared across the screen. The island wi-fi was slow, and it took a few painful minutes, but eventually you ended up with a title screen queued up: The Little Mermaid.

You looked at Shouto for approval, only to find his eyes searching over the screen, as if for some clue of what was to come. Oh—that was right—he might have been able to speak to you, but chances were probably slim he could read any human languages.

“It’s an animated film about, uh, this mermaid who strikes a deal to be human and live on land,” you explained. “She, um, falls in love with a prince and they, uh, sort of fight to be together.”

Shouto’s mismatched eyes picked over you speculatively. “A human fights? I thought you were not capable.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well he mostly steers a boat around. But he does help try to defeat a sea witch.”

Shouto eyed you. “There is no such thing.”

A startled laugh burst out of you at the look of suspicion on his face. It was patently ridiculous that a merman was propped up in your bed telling you what was and wasn’t real.

“It’s fiction,” you told him. “People also think merpeople aren’t real, as you well know.”

Shouto looked doubtful, but you pressed play on your laptop anyway. You deposited his sushi in his lap, then hesitated over whether to hand him chopsticks too. As you watched him draw one long claw across the plastic cover, slicing it open instead of just uncapping it, you decided no. He most definitely would not be needing a pair of chopsticks.

Shouto seemed to like his plain rolls, all of the ingredients except the rice ocean-based. You watched his handsome nose flare suspiciously at your own rolls when you opened your container, shooting a look of obvious distaste at the spicy mayo drizzled over the top of one.

You had to hide another smile, strangely charmed by everything about him.

Shouto also was quickly absorbed by the movie, and did not notice when you plucked his empty container from his lap. He seemed to find it equal parts amusing and ridiculous. It was only when Ariel and Prince Eric almost kissed in the boat that you felt Shouto’s eyes on you. You stared resolutely ahead, pretending not to notice, your skin prickling.

He was distracted again by the rest of the film, even leaning forward with interest during the climax. But his eyes wandered your way again when Ariel and Eric finally kissed, and you looked up reflexively, face heating when his was closer than you had expected.

“Uhhh,” you said, stupidly. “Did you… like it?”

“Yes,” Shouto replied. Outside, the sun was sinking, and it cast Shouto’s face in an orange glow, the blue light of your laptop refracting strangely off his eyes.

Your breath quickened, for some unfathomable reason.

You jumped when warm fingers met the skin of your sternum again, and you heard the chips of coral click as they were lifted. Shouto’s eyes dipped to them, then back up to your face, dragging over it slowly.

“You said there were no other mating rituals, correct?” Shouto said.

You startled under his touch, brain functions freezing up at the mention of mating. What—mating rituals? And what did he mean other?

“Mating rituals?” you echoed, trying to keep your voice from coming out strangled.

Shouto nodded. “You said jewelry is often given. And dinner and a movie. But I believe you said there were no other common practices across cultures.”

You blinked, mind whirring with the implication that Shouto thought dinner and a movie was a mating ritual and yet had engaged in such a thing with you. And as for jewelry… you felt one of Shouto’s claws drag delicately over the skin just under your neck as he thumbed across the pieces of coral.

A sudden suspicion formed in your brain, illuminating your synapses like a light had just been snapped on. A million other things Shouto had said about fighting and hunting and protection suddenly felt like they made a terrible sort of sense to you. You stared back at Shouto, mouth dropping open.

No. There was no way.

“Shouto,” you said, your voice shooting embarrassingly high. It was ridiculous to even ask the question, and yet… “Are you—did you ask for dinner and a movie as a date?”

Shouto inclined his head. His hair had mostly dried, and it looked soft and silky in the orange light from the sun. You fought down the sudden urge to reach out and touch it.

“Dates are mating practices, are they not?” he murmured.

A hand pressed down next to your hip, titling you a little towards him with the dip of the mattress. Your heart beat fluttered, the skin at your hip prickling.

“But you—but there’s—but we didn’t—but you—” you fumbled, blinking flusteredly. The air in your room suddenly felt about a million degrees warmer, almost suffocatingly hot. Shouto tilted his head, then pressed the backs of his fingers to your cheek, as if testing your temperature.

“Are you well?” he asked.

Were you well. Were you well?

A literal fairytale creature, a prince of fairytale creatures, was sitting in your bed, having all but just admitted to engaging in mating rituals with you, and here he was asking if you were well!

You made a noise somewhere between the moo of a cow and a goose honk, and Shouto’s fingers shifted against your skin.

“How is it that you conclude the mating ritual?” he asked, watching you carefully. “If it is successful and my suit is accepted?”

His suit. His suit! Like he was courting you!

Dear god what had you been getting yourself into. And why did every single inch of your skin feel like it was on fire, especially when Shouto leaned closer?

“When they—in the movie when they pressed their mouths together,” you stammered. “You must know it from your sister having a human husband—it’s called kissing.”

Shouto’s fingers moved across your skin, until he was cupping your face in one large palm. Your breath froze entirely in your lungs. This close, his face was somehow even more perfect, and you were entirely robbed of higher brain function, gawking at him like he was an animal in a zoo.

Shouto was near enough that you could feel the exhalation of his next words on your mouth. “I would like do it, this kissing,” he said, tone slow and rolling. “That is if you accept me. If you acknowledge we are mates.”

You couldn’t really think past the feeling of his hand on your face, the way his claws rasped so sweetly over the skin behind your ear. He was so warm and so close and so stupidly, mind-numbingly handsome, and the low, gentle way he spoke to you sounded like the sea, a rumble of waves you wanted to sink beneath.

You opened your mouth to ask him to repeat the question, as your processing power was suddenly at zero percent.

But then Shouto shifted on the bed, the weight of his hand tipping you even further towards him. You felt yourself losing a little balance, falling, a hand pressing against his naked chest to catch yourself—

—And then Shouto’s mouth caught yours, and you forgot to feel anything else at all.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #andie's writing

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sl-vega · 4 months ago

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♫ 8.5; ↠ ENEMIES TO ???

↳ my heart beats for you-a scaramouche smau

Off key chords. Employees running around the live house holding speakers, cables, mic stands and several other appliances that Scaramouche managed recognize from his years of playing with 5WIRL.

It was nice, the atmosphere that the place radiated all the time. It was familiar, cozy, safe. He had grown quite fond of it. It felt like home to him.

Well, more like how he assumed other's would describe their home, his house life was practically worlds apart from the bliss that Favonius gave to him.

So, perhaps home wasn't the right word to describe the place. Haven, yes, a safe haven for him, that was a much better term. A get away, a paradise that he could always go to, but never quite own. Company that he could always count on but never keep.

Such thoughts always plagued his conscious when left to his own devices without interruption. Happiness was present in the moment yet his own thinking seemed to pollute the so-called joy he was supposed to be lavishing in, the joy he should have been savouring.

Because one day, it would all be gone.

One day, they'd all leave, out of sight, yet fresh in his mind.

One day, he'd be alone again.

Suddenly Scaramouche felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to the current scene. Friendly deep gold eyes met his dead indigo one's.

Aether.

Right, he was in the live house, surrounded by his bandmates. Not alone. He had company. He had other's to spend time with. He had friends.

"Hey."

He simply said, nonchalantly, though he spared Aether from the usual glare that sat on his grumpy, albeit gentle, face.

"You good? You were staring off into space again."

Aether gave him a quizzical and concerned look, they have had this conversation countless times. Always the same scenario, always the same response between the two.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Lies.

His friend didn't look convinced. He never did. Yet he never pushed it further than that, Scaramouche liked that about Aether, he knew that insisting that he wasn't okay would only make him feel worse. Aether's expression quickly shifted into a gentle smile, clearly fake, clearly strained.

"I'm gonna go on a snack run, wanna come with?"

The blonde asked, gesturing to the front door of the live house.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing a soundcheck with Sucrose and Mika?"

Scaramouche deadpanned in response. He loved spending one on one time with Aether, he really did, but he didn't want to screw up tonight just because of that.

"Nah don't worry about it, Xiao told me he'd do the rest of the checks with them."

Aether explained, of course Xiao agreed to do it for him, the guy basically followed him around like a dog, not to mention acted like one. Scaramouche supposed he admired the dedication. He'd make a good boyfriend for someone if he wasn't so attached to Aether.

"Fine."

He muttered in response. On the inside, he was practically jumping for joy though.

Aether led the two of them out the door, and they headed to the local convenience store using the all too familiar route that Scaramouche had memorized from his time spent with the band.

They finally arrived at the store itself, Aether opening the door for Scaramouche, allowing him to head inside first.

"Ever the gentleman I see."

"You know it."

After him, Aether shortly followed, allowing the door to gently swing shut as the soft cling of the door chimes sounded and rang throughout the shop.

A brief intermission of silence shortly followed after the two began to examine the shelves for snacks. Aether gently pushing boxes and bags aside while Scaramouche had settled for rummaging through the aisles. He always made sure to put everything back in it's place though. He wasn't that much of a jackass.

Him and Aether eventually reconvened at the candy aisle together. Scaramouche holding two bags of chips for himself, and Aether holding a small basket full of snacks.

The began browsing the sweets section together, and thankfully, Aether broke the silence.

"So, other than her, did ya' invite anyone else?"

Aether asked him, back turned as he checked the price tag for some chocolate bar.

Scaramouche didn't know how to feel about the fact the he immediately knew that Aether was talking about you, even if he didn't mention your name.

He shrugged, picking up some dark chocolate in the process. "Yeah I only directly invited her, but she probably asked your sister to come or somethin'..."

He placed the bitter candy back on the shelf. He didn't care much for candy, even if some fit his flavour profile.

"Why did you invite her anyways?" Aether inquired.

"Cuz you told me I should."

He replied, without missing a beat. He seemed to repeat the same mantra over and over. Yeah, he's only doing this for Aether, he's doing this for Aether, for the sake of his friend.

That's all.

"I told you to try being nicer to her, not invite her to one of our gigs."

His friend turned around to face him, smirking.

"I've never seen you put this much effort into someone you claim to 'hate' Scara~ Maybe you care more than your willing to let on."

He teased, playfully poking his shoulder. Scaramouche simply let out a dry chuckle and swatted Aether's hand away.

"Yeah right..."

Sure, maybe he didn't hate you, maybe he never even disliked you in the first place, but it wasn't like he liked you, or was fond of you by any means. And he certainly wasn't in love-

He wasn't.

He couldn't.

At most he admired you as a musician. He'd never say it out loud, but he certainly admired you.

Admiration and actually having feelings for someone are two completely different things that way too many people confuse for one another.

"Well I'm gonna go pay for everything now, you can wait for me outside, I'll be there in a sec."

"Hm? Oh, yeah thanks..."

Scaramouche handed Aether his snacks and some cash that would cover the stuff he wanted before promptly turning his heel and exiting the store.

Why was he even thinking about this right now? Why was he even thinking about you right now.

Sure, he'd been following your musical career for longer than he'd like to admit, and part of him envied the passion you had for the art. But that didn't mean he had to like you in that sense.

Liking you in that sense would make things weird. You made it abundantly clear that you disliked him. You were stubborn, and brash, and incredibly irritating.

Liking you in that sense meant that things between him and Aether would be weird. And that was the last thing that he wanted.

Hurting Aether was the last thing he wanted.

"Scara! I finished paying for everything-"

His friend placed his hand on his shoulder once more, causing him to flinch, clearly catching Aether off guard.

"You good?-"

"I'm fine. Really. You just started me a bit."

Scaramouche insisted, lifting the blonde's hand off him, and taking the plastic bag full of their purchases from Aether's arms and into his own.

"We're heading back now yeah?"

He tilted his head in the direction of Favonius, taking a few steps forward as he waited for Aether to scurry along.

"Yeah! Thanks for coming with me Scara."

"No problem."

He wasn't gonna hurt Aether, no matter how he felt about you.

But surely, getting just a little bit closer to you wouldn't hurt anyone,

...Right?

additional notes:

denial is a river in egypt for $400

also if you thought you saw a different chapter instead

you are sorely mistaken

idk what you're talking about :D

ALSO HEAR ME OUT

y/n is Alexander, and scara and aether are eliza/Angelica (those roles are interchangeable between the two of them tbh)

anyways ty again for reading!

love y'all <3

masterlist

MY HEART BEATS FOR YOU

Pairing: [BASSIST!] Scaramouche x [GUITARIST!] Reader

Genre: rivals/enemies to lovers, rivals to friends to lovers, fluff, crack (?), comedy, angst (?), slowburn, high school au, band au, modern au, social media au, smau

Synopsis: You're the lead guitarist for your band, C✧LESTIA and Scaramouche is the bassist of 5WIRL. The two of your bands have a friendly rivalry, but you and Scaramouche don't. On top of being academic rivals, you and him have never been on good terms. Always one-upping each other in grades and in music. Even your bandmates have grown tired of your constant bickering with each other. But when your usual practice hub gets flooded, you and the rest of C✧LESTIA are forced to find a new place to rehearse. So when 5WIRL offers to share their studio with you who are you to refuse? Of course, this forces you to spend time with your sworn rival whether you like it or not. But maybe the two of you can overcome your differences and actually be friends?

Or maybe even more?

(CLOSED) TAGLIST: @featuredtofu @levianamor @danfelions, @thatoneswordgirl, @lolmeowing, @bananasquash, @xiaosantenna, @twilightclouds, @kaitfae, @mujiwuji, @zestyseggsydaddy69, @peaceindreams, @freyao7, @rinquin, @justpeachyteastea, @seafumes, @b2ne, @skyoverkill1, @scaradooche, @morallyrainyday, @adres-tia, @justadvena6, @agaygothicmushroom, @aiher, @seaofdata, @kyon-cherri, @aether-darling, @ukinya, @sketcheeee, @ibawa, @shutingstar, @eutopiastar, @kunimix, @wonderful-worlds, @ectomotive, @yourfavoritefreakyhan, @b4tm4nn, @animegirl-12s-world, @h3xi2g0n3, @lalaloveallmydays, @st4xs-3, @valentinasgirly, @kazuieee, @hikoiaa, @princess-peachys, @feikyuu, @dainsleif-when-playable, @animeobsessed56, @useless-potahto

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche #scaramouche smau #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #wanderer #wanderer smau #hat guy #aether #5wirl #6reeze

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sevikas-biceps · 1 month ago

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[TLDR: me rationalising and then ranting about why Caitlyn and Cassandra are both in the wrong]

Y'all. We love Cait, and we do stan Cassandra in some regards—but be fucking for real. Think of them as real people, in the real world, doing real things. Y'all would hate them. I'm putting Cait's gay love and Cass' gay support aside—because I really do feel like a lot of people gloss over their flaws just because of the queer rep and allying.

Think of it. The Kiramman's ventilation system was the bare fucking minimum being done for the people of Zaun. Caitlyn weaponising it is literally a violation of human rights practices. We know how privileged Topside is, we know there are at least sympathetic characters out there—and both of these are true for the Kirammans. What does this imply? That the Kirammans were essentially one of those at the top of the hierarchy, and this put them in a complete position of ability to help.

But they didn't. That's the issue, people.

One of the previous matriarchs putting the vent system into place was to solve the matter of the air pollution, yes—but arguably, the people of the Undercity shouldn't have had to deal with that problem to begin with. Cassandra might've been aware it existed; she gave her daughter the key, after all. However, that does not mean she actively came to the aid of the people of Zaun. Hell, do you think she was even aware of Silco, for instance? At the beginning? Maybe she'd've heard whispers from informants, about some old peacekeeper people called the Hound, and then about some mysterious tycoon taking his place. Maybe Grayson said something about the Undercity's concerns in the past, during the time of the first insurrection, but the Council took no note of it. Maybe Cassandra had someone else in place to make her dealings, if ever she dabbled in that black market shit.

Whatever else you can think of with that line of thinking; at the end of the day, it just proves that Cassandra herself was only another person stuck in the cycle—she did her job, she was cunning and selfish, she played the game. It's just business. It's just politics. No more, no less. The original line-up on the Council had members that were either ignorant, negligent, or corrupt (and yes; that includes Heimerdinger, Mel, and Jayce you guys)—and Cassandra was no better. Again, they all were part of the same damn cycle to begin with.

What makes Cassandra remarkable as a character—to us, the audience—is that she's remembered as someone redeemable because of her love for her family, for Caitlyn; that she was willing to try for her daughter's sake and happiness. Caitlyn. Not the city, not her kid's new girlfriend, and most certainly not Zaun. Above all else, it boils down to her little girl. Her only child. Cassandra being on the Council meant that she could give that child the best life that she could; Cassandra being on the Council meant that the child has a future. It implies that peripherally, she was aware of the Undercity's issues—hence the little frustrations exchanged about Caitlyn becoming an officer and venturing into the Undercity in Season 1.

That's her redeeming quality. Duty for family.

[If you want a visualisation of her actual nature, I'd honestly recommend using Olenna Tyrell, Tywin Lannister, and Jon Arryn from ASoIaF/GoT as points of reference.]

Now, onto Caitlyn herself. Credit where credit is due; the girl is in the middle of grieving, and she's being denied the chance to have even that. She doesn't deserve that. No one does. It would be unfair to deal her an amount of resentment for going unstable, when we'd all been rooting for Jinx for half of the same reasons in Season 1. But that's the issue: half of the same reasons.

Let's be honest for a quick second here. Do we really think Caitlyn would've ever gone down to the Undercity had Jinx never attacked on Progress Day? With someone like Marcus hot on her trails, if he lives in this hypothetical alternate reality, I imagine she wouldn't even be placed near the bridge(s) to begin with. And if, in canon, he'd survived the explosion, I can also see Caitlyn being put on house arrest—because if Marcus himself is outed as working with Silco (similar to how Grayson did with Vander), then that's all the more reason to keep the Kiramman heiress away from danger, or worse, death. If things are so bad that the Sheriff, symbolically a paragon of justice and protection, resorted to consorting with the enemy...well, what then? What does that say about the system? What does that say about Piltovan society?

Back to Caitlyn. I'm a firm supporter of the idea that she never would've been put into a potential line of fire had life gone on normally. If Jinx never stole the hexcrystals, then Caitlyn would have no reason to snoop around; Vi is still in Stillwater, Silco is at large, and so on and so forth. Caitlyn remains largely ignorant of the world she lives in. It's noble that she genuinely wanted to help people. But in a place like Piltover? She'd be worse than Jayce when Season 1 began. I'm sure she'd no doubt notice the surrounding manipulations in her life, or how flawed their reality could be—but the point is, at the end of the day, it's still a privileged life that she leads.

Let that word sink in. Privileged. This isn't to disparage her original desire to make her society a better place—I do think that Caitlyn has the potential to do so if she exerted her efforts into long-term developments that could fulfil that vision. But this is where it gets tricky—especially in the context of Season 2. She had all of those resources at her disposal. She was aware of the consequences in using them—how it might affect civilians, innocents. And she still did so anyway. Strike one.

For all that she was a decorated officer, it's really the personal vendetta against Jinx that made her unfit to lead the strike team to begin with. I imagine Vi refused the enforcer position at first not just because of her and her people's history with the authority, but because it's so blatant that doing so enabled Caitlyn to act in her anger. By accepting the badge, Vi validated Caitlyn's need for vengeance. Not that Caitlyn is unreasonable in wanting such a thing, mind, but what is unreasonable was how tone-deaf she'd become in the process of grieving, forgetting that it's not just her own interests on the line, but others' too. Strike two.

There's nothing wrong with Caitlyn at the beginning—the girl just wanted so solve a crime. But then circumstances came up. And then, all of a sudden, she has to choose between duty or self-interest. What the show does is that it gives a convenient solution for Caitlyn to be able to serve both her duty and her own self-interest(s): invade/scour Zaun, she catches a criminal and delivers justice for the Council; find Jinx, Cassandra is avenged and Vi may find closure. The fight at Janna's temple is where it all indeed goes to shit, as we can see, and that's where Caitlyn really slips off in my opinion. She'd toed the line when she asked Vi to wear the badge—but it's really when Isha (a child) got involved and later on when she struck Vi herself (a betrayal), that her motives get warped. Strike three.

My main argument is that Cassandra and Caitlyn were both in the wrong, in one way or another, albeit for different and varied reasons. The former didn't do enough for the situation at hand, and the latter seems to be doing too much at once. Cassandra herself seemed to have enabled her daughter's worse traits, too, whether directly or indirectly; and this is what makes up much of the character that we see Caitlyn evolving into.

There are many aspects of both mother and daughter that have always been there, or, at least, have had the potential to be there, such as: the ruthlessness, the narrow focus, the determination, the strictness—and, most of all (and I have a feeling this is going to be controversial), the hypocrisy. We know, for a fact, that Caitlyn and Cassandra are at least self-aware. To merely label them as naïve or inexperienced (to life) is a gross disservice to their characters. On some level, they're cognisant of their status and ability in society (evidenced by baby!Cait's scepticism regarding Grayson's trophy, and Cass' agreement to support their case at the Council meeting)—and they both have exacted measures in the face of what is demanded of them.

This is the reason that Caitlyn weaponising the Grey, using the Kiramman's ventilation system, is more or less unforgivable. Just because it had Vi's hesitant approval, it didn't make it right. Vi counts as an unreliable narrator in this case—when we know that she, in multiple instances, easily caves when someone she's attached to doubles down on her.

We, as the audience, can at least agree on the moralities regarding the authorisation of the strike team; and that means that we, as people analysing the show, can also agree that the effects of an act such as using the Grey can be devastating. We see this in Viktor's chronic illness, we see this with Silco's asphyxiation trick on the Chembarons, we see this when Jinx knocks out Sevika, we see this in Cassandra's notes. Stop trying to downplay the Grey. Stop trying to justify a fucking war crime. 'Oh, but it's just knock-out gas'—baby, no it's not. It's really not. Smeech explicitly says this: factory smoke trapped underground. Smoke. It's still gas. There's no safe way of administering it in high doses. That's like smoking Marlboro Reds taken beyond the extreme, and fuelled by gasoline of all things.

I'm not villainising Caitlyn, but some of y'all also need to stop excusing what she did—and I'm saying this because a lot of you also did the same with Jinx in Season 1. For the lack of a better example; it's very much like excusing what serial killers of the past had done because they were 'interesting' or 'charming' or hell, relatable. Be Gay, Do Crime is most definitely not applicable here, you guys. Seriously.

That is literally the reason Vi snaps at Caitlyn after the fight with Jinx. Why are you the one acting like her? It's not just a comparison between Caitlyn and Jinx, it's not just vendetta against vendetta; in a broader context, Vi is asking: Why are you resorting to the same acts of terrorism? Why are you enforcing the same tactics your predecessors used? Why are you turning into what you once swore not to become? Why are you doing this? What are you turning into?

Vi asked Caitlyn to promise her not to change. But she did.

Why are you betraying yourself?

#sorry y'all I had to vent #also made some edits to this but people already reblogged it. oh well #arcane #arcane s2 #arcane league of legends #arcane analysis #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #cassandra kiramman #cassandra arcane

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qweerhet · 1 month ago

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I see some of your pro-ai stuff, and I also see that you're very good at explaining things, so I have some concerns about ai that I'd like for you to explain if it's okay.

I'm very worried about the amount of pollution it takes to make an ai generated image, story, video, etc. I'm also very worried about ai imagery being used to spread disinformation.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem to go by the stance that since we can't un-create ai, we should just try our best to manage. How do we manage things like disinformation and massive amounts of pollution? To be fair, I actually don't know the exact amount of pollution ai generated prompts make.

so, first off: the environmental devastation argument is so incorrect, i would honestly consider it intellectually dishonest. here is a good, thorough writeup of the issue.

the tl;dr is that trying to discuss the "environmental cost of AI" as one monolithic thing is incoherent; AI is an umbrella term that refers to a wide breadth of both machine-learning research and, like, random tech that gets swept up in the umbrella as a marketing gimmick. when most people doompost about the environmental cost of AI, they're discussing image generation programs and chat interfaces in particular, and the fact is that running these programs on your computer eats about as much energy as, like, playing an hour of skyrim. bluntly, i consider this argument intellectually dishonest from anyone who does not consider it equally unethical to play skyrim.

the vast majority of the environmental cost of AI such as image generation and chat interfaces comes from implementation by large corporations. this problem isn't tractable by banning the tool; it's a structural problem baked into the existence of massive corporations and the current phase of capitalism we're in. prior to generative AI becoming a worldwide cultural trend, corporations were still responsible for that much environmental devastation, primarily to the end of serving ads--and like. the vast majority of use cases corporations are twisting AI to fit boil down to serving ads. essentially, i think focusing on the tool in this particular case is missing the forest for the trees; as long as you're not addressing the structural incentives for corporations to blindly and mindlessly participate in unsustainable extractivism, they will continue to use any and all tools to participate in such, and i am equally concerned about the energy spent barraging me with literally dozens and dozens of digital animated billboards in a ten-mile radius as i am with the energy spent getting a chatbot to talk up their product to me.

moving onto the disinformation issue: actually, yes, i'm very concerned about that. i don't have any personal opinions on how to manage it, but it's a very strong concern of mine. lowering the skill floor for production of media does, necessarily, mean a lot of bad actors are now capable of producing a much larger glut of malicious content, much faster.

i do think that, historically speaking, similar explosions of disinformation & malicious media haven't been socially managed by banning the tool nor by shaming those who use it for non-malicious purposes--like, when it was adopted for personal use, the internet itself created a sudden huge explosion of spam and disinformation as never before seen in human history, but "get rid of the internet" was never a tractable solution to this, and "shame people you see using the internet" just didn't do anything for the problem.

wish i could be more helpful on solutions for that one--it's just not a field i have any particular knowledge in, but if there's anyone reading who'd like to add on with information about large-scale regulation of the sort of broad field of malicious content i'm discussing, feel free.

#anonymous #ask

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whyeverr · 1 month ago

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I am such a fan of your rebuild a city series. I love everything about it. Just a question, where it concerns editing are you using a gradient overlay on your photos to have the brownish hue/tone effect? Or just reshade/gshade?

hiiiii Jae! I love everything about this question! mostly because I love any excuse to ramble about any / all particulars of my bacc 🥰

I play on Mac so can't or maybe supposedly theoretically "could" but can't be bothered to figure out how to run reshade, so all processing is after the fact in Lightroom.

just playing in dimly-lit interiors and the stagnant yellow pollution haze of Evergreen Harbor lays a lot of the ground work, so my base preset's primary job is honestly kind of to counteract the dinge: cranking exposure and brightening shadows, dropping contrast and saturation, plus some slight color grading to make things perfectly imperfect (and yes lol very warm):

of course, two wrongs don't necessarily make a right, so I work from there to make any necessary adjustments (like Octavia's left hand, which was blown out from resting on Queso's rump in the single patch of natural light):

my favorite bit though is the texture and clarity adjustments that give everything a bit of a Vaseline-on-the-lens, dewy, radioactive, post-apocalyptic glow. 🥹 I find this to be especially noticeable on world deco objects that are already somewhat hazy in the distance to begin with (like the water from the dam or yellow metal structures on the hydropower plant):

this is the element of my editing style that I personally find "pretty." 🙂 I sometimes find myself wondering whether I'm doing myself a disservice by leaning so heavily into the ugly with everything from the way I edit to ugly builds and questionable outfit (and now also makeup) choices... but I can't imagine doing it a different way! perhaps as things progress and we work past the point of just surviving and towards building something better...?

#side note i wish i COULD play my game looking like this with reshade #would definitely make things even more immersive #and i would be so delighted to have DOF control #i would simply evaporate #rebuild a city asks #rebuild a city extras #answered asks #kofencrew

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vamp1r1cjuggalo · 6 months ago

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Update about the downfall AU?? I love it already, so I must ask.😭

Hi hi! Yes yes! I’m really glad you like it!

So we do actually a lot of updates! I’ll start off with our status list and then dive into characters!

Status list

Toons:

Flippy: dead rip L

Lord Lowden Clear: Alive, the new mayor

Mata Hairy: Alive, doing well

Good Ol’ Gil Giggles: Alive

Bumpy Bumblebehr: Alive

Rain: Alive and well, chilling with William

Reid Stock: Alive

River: Alive

Barnacle Bessie: Alive

The elders: Alive, old as shit

Timmy: Alive

Rocky: Might be dead, possibly due to an encounter with an odd red cat lawbot

Vinny: Alive but injured, not critically however

Rhapsody: Alive

Moe Zart: Alive, heavily disgruntled

Rose: Alive

Reed: Alive

Coach Zucchini: Dead

Lil Oldman: Alive

Ridge: Alive

Mac Opsys: Alive

Winn Dos: Alive

Elvis Purrsly: Questionable

Ok yeah most of the toons R alive

Cogs:

William: Alive, but fired, bad condition

Buck R.: Alive-ish, stuck in a permafusion w/Dave

Brian: Alive, fired, with Mac and Winn

Alton: Alive

Mary: Alive, on the search for misty, left the company

Misty: Alive but missing

Winston: Alive, very bad condition but alive

Holly: Alive, trying to help finding misty

Prester: questionable

Ben: Alive, forced to stay in the company

Cathal: Alive, the current VP

Allan: Dead, they killed my wife

Belle: Alive

Dave: Alive-ish, stuck in a permafusion w/ Buck

Chris: Alive

Flint: Alive, in the mafia

Cosmo and the inventors: Alive, buisness is kinda going to shit, hence them trying to get more people into the family

The Litigation team: Chimeraed

CLO; Critical condition but alive

Spruce: Alive

Chip: Alive, stuck in override

Craig: Alive

Desmond: A lot better than William that’s for true, Alive

Buck Wilde: Alive

Dana: A bit fucked up mentally but she’s doing ok, propaganda machine

Tawney: Alive

Graham: Alive but kinda starting to not be great mentally and physically L

Thomas: Alive but doin shit mentally

Robert: Alive, doin shit mentally, desperately trying to stand ground

Now for character updates:

Rain and William

William and Rain end up partnering up, the two coming together to survive after William left the company, having to leave for his safety as his age and outdated shell and software led to him beginning to fall apart, not able to withstand battle.

Rain has taken on engineering, to keep him together as best as she can.

Flint Bonpyre

They join Pluto’s crew officially, mostly out of desperation for a bit more money since repairs and stuff have been more expensive as of late due to the rise in them as well as lack of resources

Elvis Purrsly

Looking a little more robotic then usual, but it was found out he is alive. Sort of.

Misty Monsoon

While alive she may be, no one can find them, they’ve gone missing. Though reports have shown heavy and rapid weather changes in certain areas around toontown.

Mary Anna

Mary quit COGS inc, due to both her heavy concerns for the pollution, how awful everything has been, and to make more time to search for Misty. She has been leading the search for a few months now, but no one has been able to find Misty.

And that’s all for now folks!

We do have high roller lore but I still need to draw her ack

But yeah! Here are some updates! Thank you for reading!

#toontown #toontown corporate clash #ttcc #TT downfall au #downfall au #rain toontown #derrick man #firestarter #elvis purrsly #rainmaker #deep diver #william boar #flint bonpyre #misty monsoon #mary anna #cw mention of death

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teacupofgooglyeyes · 1 year ago

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THE MAGNUS PROTOCOL. oh my GOD, the magnus protocol. (marginal spoilers up ahead for the tmp trailer + arg)

….i have a theory. its based on other possibly improbable theories but please indulge me as i connect the dots nobody else can see with red string and declare it a masterpiece.

WHAT IF…. something was trapped in the database? yes this is absolutely inspired by the theories bouncing around saying J.01 + M.01 are jon and martin- and possible J.02 is jonah. yes im going insane about it. yes i am distraught. BUT- what if its not just our silly little jarchivist and martin ‘knife crime’ blackwood trapped in the O.I.A.R. database? what if theres something that the O.I.A.R. takes ‘incident reports’ of to contain (and perhaps categorise) in encrypted files or the like in an attempt to rid the world of this something for good?

what if they had figured out a way to trap… the fears themselves in the database?

okokokok hear me out- it sounds insane but i promise i can provide evidence that proves with sufficient certainty that theres definitely SOMETHING (or someone) trapped in there. as to what that something is- i cant prove that for sure but i can absolutely try my darnedest! and whatever you choose to believe is up to you.

PROOF #1: THE ARG EMAILS

1. in the tmp arg, there was a small message at the end of every email. it read as follows: ‘In accordance with governmental guidelines we encourage you to consider the environmental impact before printing this email.’ All in all, this doesn’t seem too suspicious, right? Probably just rusty quill trying to be eco-friendly, right? right??

2. but that’s not all. in the middle of the environmental impact text in the first email sent, there is a section of random german text. it reads: ‘[NichtdurchkommenlassenEsistwichtigdasswirdieKontrollebehalten 🜶]’. this translates to: ‘Do not let (pronoun missing on purpose) come through. It is important that we remain in control 🜶’. Pairing the two makes it definitely seem like theres a reason for the O.I.A.R. to not want people printing things off of the internet that is absolutely connected to making sure certain things contained on internet in some way do not escape…

PROOF #2: THE TMP TRAILER

now that the arg has been solved, we now all have access to the tmp official trailer. i could rant about the contents of this trailer alone for HOURS but right now i just want to focus on a few specific details i noticed.

1. the epa pollution preventer. when the program is initiating, up in the top right corner there’s a logo for some company advertising anti-pollution… something. im mentioning this as this only furthers the strange obsession the O.I.A.R. has with protecting the environment, this incessant need to keep everything digital.

(SIDE NOTE: i have two other theories as to where this environmental obsession stems from:

1. paranoia from the archives burning down in this universe calls for the usage of any flammable items to record important data is STRICTLY forbidden!

2. the extinction has become the leading fear in this universe, prompting this very interesting concern for keeping eco-friendly.

these theories are enticing and i would love to expand on them later if i have the energy lol all these theories are rushing through my head and driving me even more insane.)

2. the files. THE FUCKING FILES!! yes, the ones that we are PRAYING contains our dearly beloved jon and martin (and probably jonah, but i doubt anyone else is as excited about that compared to the happy couple). this got me thinking- what if they trapped something ELSE in the files? something that maybe took the burning of the entire magnus institute, all those fears open and barely contained on paper, to contain digitally? something that maybe needs to be encrypted in files to keep it away, and to further contain it recordings of incident reports statements are made and also placed in the files archives? just saying. its a possibility.

PROOF #3: WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT JONNY

1. after listening to all the Q&As and extra content to recover from episode 200, i have LEARNT a few things. specifically, i know our good friend jonny sims loves creepypastas. fun fact- the actual s5 finale was itself inspired by creepypastas!

2. plus theres many episodes that do also have distinct creepypasta influences, one of which being mag 65: binary. this particular episode is about a fictional creepypasta/internet rumor about a man who placed himself and his sentience into a file on the internet that turns out to be true. internet horror stories often involved something trapped on the internet, interacting with users on the internet to attempt to escape or achieve whatever their goal may be. seems…. interesting. hmm. what if this sort of thing is influencing the podcast yet again? its a thought…..

IN CONCLUSION:

im insane. and-

#the magnus protocol #the magnus universe #the magnus protocol theories #the magnus pod #the magnus archives #the magnus institute #tma #tma theory #im going insane

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gadawg-404 · 1 year ago

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It’s amazing that you never hear one climate fear monger mention Solar Cycles, Sun Spots and that the various sun events change the weather on Neptune. Yes, reasonable efforts to not pollute are wise. Why isn’t anybody concerned about theGreat Pacific Garbage Patch, which is larger than Alaska in size? Why no huge international effort to stop the pollution from China and India? Must be there is no money in for the fear mongers.

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followthebluebell · 1 year ago

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Hi there! I was wondering about clay cat litter and if it poses any internal risk to cats? My parents told me that they once lost a cat due to bowel obstructions from clay litter (so their vet said), so we always used wheat or pine alternatives and I continued that once I moved out just to be safe. But I've always wondered how dangerous clay can really be, if it's so commonly used and sold? Is there any real benefit to using the "fancier" litters at all (assuming cat preference isn't an issue)?

Hello!

Yes, if your cat eats clumping clay litter, there is a chance it can become an obstruction. Clay litter clumps REALLY well when it comes into contact with moisture. Great for cat boxes, not so great if the cat decides clay litter is delicious.

It's not very common for cats to just straight-up eat clay. It's more common with very young kittens who don't know anything yet or cats with pica. Pica seems more common in certain breeds like Persians. If your cat doesn't have pica, clay litter is pretty safe to use.

Cats who eat their litter are usually better switched to a corn or wheat based litter. It won't stop them from giving it a nibble (some cats will decide they REALLY like the taste, even), but at least it'll pass safely through their system.

Benefits of 'fancier' litter:

There ARE environmental concerns with clay litter. The process to mine the clay used (generally bentonite) is pretty grueling and causes lots of pollution. In my experience, this is the primary reason people switch from clay.

Weight is another concern, especially for people who live in upper floor apartments or disabled folks. Clay litter is heavy. No one wants to cart all that weight around.

Age is another reason why some people use 'fancier' litters. Kittens also aren't very... GOOD at keeping their butts away from litter when they're using it at first. They can form nasty little clumps of clay around their genitals. For this reason, most kittens are started on non-clumping paper litter.

Oh, and allergies! Clay litter is dusty as fuck. Even the 99.9% dust-free stuff is still going to have clay dust in it. If someone's got sensitive lungs (or their cat does), they might want to explore another type of litter.

For the record, I use Dr. Elsey's clay litter at work and at home. I don't judge anyone for using alternative litters or clay litter. Use whatever works best for your cat and you.

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meret118 · 18 days ago

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The gas industry relied on Hill & Knowlton, the same public relations company that masterminded the tobacco industry’s playbook for responding to research linking smoking to lung cancer. Hill & Knowlton’s tactics included sponsoring research that would counter findings about gas stoves published in the scientific literature, emphasizing uncertainty in these findings to construct artificial controversy and engaging in aggressive public relations efforts.

. . .

The key question is whether nitrogen dioxide exposure related to gas stoves is large enough to lead to health concerns. While levels vary across homes, scientific research shows that the simple answer is yes – especially in smaller homes and when ventilation is inadequate.

. . .

This has been known for a long time. For example, a 1998 study that I co-authored showed that the presence of gas stoves was the strongest predictor of personal exposure to nitrogen dioxide. And work dating back to the 1970s showed that indoor nitrogen dioxide levels in the presence of gas stoves could be far higher than outdoor levels. Depending on ventilation levels, concentrations could reach levels known to contribute to health risks.

. . .

This issue took on new life at the end of 2022, when researchers published a new study estimating that 12.7% of U.S. cases of childhood asthma – about one case in eight – were attributable to gas stoves. The industry continues to cast doubt on gas stoves’ contribution to health effects and fund pro-gas stove media campaigns.

#Health #Asthma #Gas stoves

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guppygiggles · 10 months ago

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Like Real People Do, Part 3! ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Avery explains where he's from and why he lives in the lighthouse. Casper takes Avery to the fair. Things get a bit more interesting between them.

☁️ Warnings: Very mild suggestive language, mild emotional scene, Real Actual Tickling™ This is a series now!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 *you are here

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

"Wait, what? If you can do that, why didn't you do it when we met? Weren't you afraid I'd freak out?"

"Well... it takes a lot of energy, and it's not something I can do at the drop of a hat, either. It takes time to spin up. It also wears off after about an hour," he explained, pausing for a moment to take a sip of his drink, "and, yes... I was afraid you would freak out, but I also didn't know how long you would be unconscious. You were out for about twelve hours... I can't hold it for that long."

Avery shifted pensively on the couch, his eyes not meeting mine. My heart sank. He'd only been in my apartment for half an hour, and I had already upset him.

"Look, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. Please don't feel pressured to agree, okay? I won't be upset. We can do something else."

"Please don't misunderstand. I really want to go! I've admired the Ferris wheel from my lighthouse many nights; I've always wanted to see it up close. It's just that, I've never been around that many humans at once before. I'm concerned I won't... behave correctly. Casper, I... I don't want to get you in trouble, or embarrass you."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. I had to admit, it did make sense for a man whose only social interactions were Internet-based to be concerned about his first social outing. I just couldn't believe he was worried about embarrassing me. I shook my head, snorting.

"Dude, there's nothing you could do that would embarrass me, I am so cringe already on my own. As far as getting me in trouble, eh. I've been in trouble before," I said, smirking coolly. That was a lie. I was a total goody-goody who'd never gotten so much as a speeding ticket, but I was willing to risk it for him.

Avery chuckled uncomfortably. He still would not look at me. "So have I."

My eyes widened.

"Holy shit, like, with the law? Avery, you? What did you do?" It was hard to imagine this straight-laced man, in his neat little button-down and slacks, had done anything wrong in his life, much less run into legal trouble.

Avery looked down at his hands, then inhaled deeply. "To answer that, I think it would be appropriate to first explain why I'm here, living in that abandoned lighthouse, in the first place.

"I am from a place called Cirropa, way up in the mesosphere: The highest level of the atmosphere where clouds can still form. Your scientists think that noctilucent clouds are the only type that form there -- that isn't true. Above that layer is where sentient variants, like myself, are born. We just aren't detectable by human technology at that altitude. When you see noctilucent clouds, you are really just seeing the "floor" of Cirropa," he explained.

"Though clouds can't die of illness, pollution can still make us sick, just like it makes you sick. It also prevents new clouds from being born; sentient and mundane alike. A little is tolerable, but too much has a major impact on clouds as a whole. Your industrial revolution in the 1700s had such a deleterious effect on our population that we are now on the verge of extinction: That is why I'm here. I research weather patterns and pollution relief strategies, and collect data that your scientists don't have the technology to obtain, then anonymously provide it to organizations that are trying to enact change. I wanted to ensure that currency would never be a barrier for entry in terms of obtaining my services, because for me, the situation is quite literally life-and-death. So, I do it for free.

I don't often have need for physical things, but when I do, I steal them. Books, clothes, parts to maintain the devices I use to collect data, et cetera. I never take anything I don't need, including food -- I only know that I can eat food because I have occasionally found wild berries and such while conducting research, and, well... I'm a curious fellow."

He brightened a bit, to my great relief, then continued, "Despite the pollution and damage you cause, I still find humans endearing and fascinating. I know you are not all the same, and I feel true sorrow for those who are suffering like we are. The work I do is for them, too. But yes, I have been caught stealing before; I've even been chased by your authorities once or twice! I try not to steal from local businesses when I can avoid it, though. I don't want to hurt small shop-owners with families to feed. Robbing big-box stores is more dangerous, since it's easier to get cau- Casper, are you okay?"

When Avery finally looked at me, my eyes were glassy with tears that I was fighting to prevent from rolling down my cheeks. I hated crying in front of other people, but when I got emotional, it was impossible to hide -- my face flushed when I cried, too. Quickly, I turned into my shoulder and rubbed my tears on my sleeve. He was just so compassionate. My species was destroying his, yet he still held such tender curiosity and empathy for us; he still wanted to be there in my apartment, spending time with me. What could I say to that?

"Avery... whatever you need, just ask me, okay? I'll give you my phone number."

"Casper, I couldn't possibly-"

"Yes, you could. I'm not rich, obviously... but I make enough money. The work you are doing is so important, more important than anything I've ever done. I can't bear the thought of you putting yourself at risk when I can do something about it... especially since I literally owe you my life. I would have drowned yesterday if not for you. Please?" I implored from across the coffee table, my hands fidgeting in my lap.

Avery fidgeted a bit, himself, looking out the window for a moment.

"Alright, dewdrop. If you insist," he relented, smiling a little now.

"Yesss! Here's my number." He typed it into his phone, then gave me his. "So... we got a little off track. Do you still want to go to the fair? Like I said, no hard feelings if not."

He perked up again, his big smile a salve for my aching heart. "Yes!"

"Cool, let's do this transformation thing."

+++

"Erm. Could you turn around? I've never had someone watch me do this before," Avery asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, yeah, of course."

I spun around, facing the kitchen. From behind me, he took a deep breath.

"Remember, once I'm transformed, we have one hour. Okay?"

"Got it, no problem. The fairgrounds are a short walk away, and I'll set a timer on my phone."

"Okay."

First, there was silence. Then, a sound like crackling fireworks, which grew progressively louder until it was so loud, I was concerned my neighbor might hear it. In the blurry microwave window, I could see flashes of light, followed by the faint chlorine-like scent of ozone. The microwave clock informed me that this went on for three minutes, during which time the urge to peek was nigh-unbearable, but I stayed put. Then, there was silence again. After what felt like ages, Avery spoke, "Okay, you can turn around now."

I whirled, instantly catching my breath.

His face was essentially the same, but his puffy head shape had been compacted into that of a human skull, the top of which erupted in a cloud of fluffy, curly white hair. Peeking out from his curls I spied two delicate ears, and his previously white irises were now a playful cerulean, glimmering above his round, cherub-like cheeks. It took me a moment to realize my mouth was open, and close it.

"Do I look human?" He asked.

Avery didn't look human at all, he looked like an archangel, perhaps even a god in this form. 'Celestial' was the only word that seemed appropriate to describe his beauty, and yet... I felt a pang of regret. Though I was excited to take him to the fair, and I accepted this as the only way he could attend... I already missed his cloud form, and the soft, elegant curves of his real head.

So distracted was I, that I forgot to temper my response.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," I said, and in my heart I knew that I wasn't just talking about his face.

Avery flushed, and despite his human countenance, his blush was still blue.

+++

The glowing arc of the Ferris wheel grew larger as we approached, LED lights illuminating it in a rainbow of colors. It was a Monday night, and I noticed approvingly that the crowd had thinned considerably from the mass of patrons I had seen on weekends prior. As we walked under the colorful welcome awning, the aroma of popcorn, frying oil, and spun sugar engulfed us. The night was warm, and as I looked at Avery, his blue eyes reflecting the many lights looked like a sea of stars.

"What would you like to do, first? If you don't know, I'm happy to lead on," I offered.

"Oh, I'm so excited to ride the Ferris wheel, aren't you?"

I had been on Ferris wheels plenty of times in the past, but I had never been so excited to ride one as I was right then.

There was a short line for the attraction. I bought our tickets and we climbed into the colorful metal cart, which I noticed with delight was painted with a cheeful cloud motif. Unlike other Ferris wheels I had been on, this one had old-fashioned style carts with a single seat and an open top. I climbed in, and as Avery sat beside me, my heart fluttered nervously as his hip pressed against mine. The gate closed and we were off.

Though the night was warm, a gentle breeze caressed us as we ascended to the top of the wheel. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply the heady bouquet of food, sea and ride machinery. After a moment, I turned to Avery.

"Aren't you able to fly much higher than this thing can go?" I joked.

"Well, yes, but... it's nice to rest and take it all in, you know? Flying is fun, and freeing, true enough... but it can be tiring as well," he said, alabaster curls spilling over his shoulders as he looked up at the stars. Recalling how it felt to ride my skateboard, I could relate.

An unexpected sound broke my reverie.

"Hehe, stop it!" a female voice cried from below us.

I looked down, where two women were cuddled together in the next cart, seemingly on a date. Like Avery and I, they were pressed together in the confined space of the cart, and it seemed one of them was taking advantage of the other's immobility. I watched with a cocktail of elation and horror as she squeezed her partner's sides and scribbled fingertips on her kneecaps, making her squeal with laughter.

"Whatever they're doing down there sounds like fun," said Avery, elbowing me playfully. His nudge to my sensitive ribs sent a shockwave through my whole body, and it was all I could do to endure it without jumping, petrified to tip him off.

"I am going to DIE. How does this keep happening?!" I thought, feeling in that moment as though I were a character in the story of a tickle-obsessed blogger.

"H-haha, yeah, I think they're on a date," I choked.

"Are we on a date, too?" asked Avery, his innocent eyes now trained on me.

Sweat broke out along my hairline, my palms slick as I gripped the lap bar, my heart pumping like an engine piston. In my panic, my internal monologue rang out.

"Say something, quick! If you take too long to answer, it might make things awkward!"

"What do I say! What if I say it's a date and it makes him uncomfortable!"

"What if you say it isn't and he's crushed because he feels the same way you do!"

"BOTH OF THESE OPTIONS SUCK!"

"Do you want us to be?" I asked, summoning all of my courage to look him in the face. Even with his altered visage, behind those eyes, it was still him. There was no going back, now. Whatever he said was going to mean something for our relationship... whatever kind of relationship it was going to be.

"Hehe, well, I... I'll admit, I'm... I'm quite fond of you. But, I've never done this before, especially not with a human. I want to keep going, but, do you think we can take it slow? Isn't that... what real people do?"

"Avery, we can take this at whatever pace you want. I've got nothing but time, and I'm not going anywhere. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for," I replied, trying to hide my breathlessness. "And, for the record... I'm quite fond of you, too, cloudboy."

Avery flashed me his signature grin, making me melt like a snowcone in July.

"Then, it's a date."

He shifted a bit. Then he gently leaned his body against mine, and as he did, my heart soared like a kite off its string.

#tickle fic #tickle fluff #tickling community #casper and avery #like real people do #fluffylore #writing #my fic #romance #tickling #ocs #my ocs

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