#also like not trying to share anyone’s math skill just….. I know for a fact you can’t use ai for a test calculators however will be fair
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rouge-fauna · 5 months ago
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Am I the only one wondering why someone would use ChatGPT as a calculator instead of using an actual calculator for a simple math problem. Like do you need to borrow one of my 8 calculators? Or maybe just use the one on Google or on the phone in your pocket. Like are we really so far gone that not only can we not do simple math in our head, but we can’t even push some buttons and need to ask ai instead…
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twotommyolivers · 3 months ago
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This absolutely has to be a social media thing (in addition to a "teens being teens" thing, amongst other factors). While 600 words is only one and a half pages of text at most (at least according to Word Counter, using 12 pt Times New Roman as an example) the way screens are structured, 600 words probably looks like a tl;dr text wall, and that's even if you're allowed on a site that lets you post 600 words at a time.
As an example, Bluesky allows 300 characters per post. Assuming six characters per word (including spaces and punctuation, taken from various search results and also to make relatively easy math) you would need to make a thread of 12 posts to write the 3600 characters that make up those 600 words. Sure, there are ways to abbreviate or emojify or whatever, so you might be able to get your 600-word point across but you're still going to have a bunch of actual adults wanting a thread reader app to unroll everything onto a single screen. The writer may also be inclined to add to their 600 words by adding a summary at the end per social custom, making the thread even longer. And remember, this is just Bluesky; could you imagine (or remember) what 600 words on 140-character Twitter looked like.
Of course, if there wasn't ChatGPT, teens would find ways to avoid writing 600 word essays for homework because teens are still children and don't understand how the skill of writing can be useful long-term. All they know is that they don't want to do things they don't want to do, and thus will seek opportunities to avoid having to do it. It's the academic equivalent of trying to hide your vegetables in a napkin or giving them to your dog instead of eating them yourself. I know I had my fair share of essay topics I didn't care about (my high school English courses liked to do five-paragraph essays within 30 minutes in class. Those were probably closer to 200 words than 600) but I had to do them anyway. But this is a digression. The point was to demonstrate how long 600 words looks on a screen.
But don’t get me wrong. Generative Artificial Intelligence and Predictive Text Engines like ChatGPT are still a problem that needs dealt with. It’s up to all of us to explain and discourage people from using it. What’s frustrating is that algorithmic tools in fact can be useful to improve aspects of life that we don’t like. As much as you probably ignore spellcheck and grammar check (does anyone ever use formatting or markup text?), those are the kind of tools that self-improving algorithms should be used to make or improve. AI shouldn’t be making new things for us, it should be improving the things we are already making. Don’t know what you want to make or how to make it? That should be what human learning is for! I know I’m digressing again, but I feel like this part was more necessary because AI should be decried at every opportunity. However, I cannot go too far away from my original point of how 600 words will look way too long to a teen who isn’t interesting in writing and who usually uses their device of choice to look at social media sites in their free time.
Did you want an example of what 600 words looks like on a screen? According to LibreOffice Writer, this post is exactly 600 words long. How did you feel about seeing this post?
im still losing it over the "how did high schoolers write 600 word essays before chatgpt" post. 600 words. that is nothing. that is so few words what do you mean you can't write 600 words. 600 words. this post right here is 45 words.
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sweetmusingss · 1 year ago
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Oscar wrapped an arm around you, holding you close to him. He watched you with an incredibly soft expression, unable to stop staring at you. He didn’t know if he would ever get used to this and the fact that you were actually his now. He got to share a bed with you and it was because you were his girlfriend and it wasn’t just one of your ‘friend’ sleepovers. He was definitely feeling hot as he felt your bare legs intertwined with his, trying to be on his best behavior. He wasn’t one to usually make the first move and he was trying to do this all right. He was dying to take the next step with you all while trying to be a gentleman. He leaned into you though, unable to resist kissing you. He tried to keep it sweet and simple while still keeping the kiss slow, knowing that if you kissed him deeper, he would be unable to resist.
I smile up at him as he immediately leans into me and kisses me, loving how he couldn’t seem to let a minute pass without kissing me. I kiss him back, trying to keep everything slow and sweet but it was so hard for me. We were laying in bed after such an emotionally heightened 24 hours and we were in love with one another... anyone could do the math and assume we would be fucking like rabbits but I knew that Oscar wanted to do this right and so did I. Just because we had been best friends for 5 years, it didn’t mean that we should rush everything. I wanted this to work, and in my experience, sex always made things more complicated and ruined things majority of the time, and I did not want to rush it at all. I fist my hand in his t-shirt, pulling him even closer to me, something about making out in his childhood bed was so hot, but I was really trying to control myself.
__
“Oh, you deserve a private dance from me always, baby. And I will certainly be doing more than just dancing for you when we’re in private.” I loved how confident you were about your skills, it being one of the hottest things in the world to me. I had been with some cocky guys before but you weren’t like that, in my opinion. You were just self-assured and confident in your talent, as you should be. “And in that case, I can’t wait to get you drunk. I love when you’re touchy with me and I can’t wait to see you be even more touchy with me. I am a very touchy drunk too so I can’t wait to be heavily making out with you in the club then,” I laugh softly before finally crawling into your lap, straddling your waist and letting my dress ride up more so my legs were almost fully on display. “I can’t wait to watch my baby win.”
“Oh, the magazines will love those photos. Every time we go out, even if we’re in a private part of the club where barely anyone else can go, photographs and videos always manage to get leaked... so I’m sure if someone catches a glimpse of America’s Sweetheart and the Villain of F1 making out, we’d be splashed all over every single website and tabloid magazine. I’d cut out the pictures and frame them.” Max laughs, smiling up at you. He really didn’t love being affectionate in public for that reason, he hated giving the slime balls anymore ammo to post about him, but he also wasn’t going to his relationship with you forever. You meant a lot to him already, and he wasn’t going to hide how much he cared for you. “I can’t wait for you to be there when I win. I’m sure that’s how we’ll go public, when the camera catches me kissing you.”
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tf2-hellhole · 4 years ago
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can we get some fluffy tf2 headcannons? giving you full creative liberty over this one! :)
Idk if you meant tf2 x reader headcanons or just general head canons, so I did two sections for each merc; the first point is a general headcanon, the second is X Reader.
sorry this took forEEEEEEEEVER, I was just experiencing burnout and working on a prize for a contest on my server (BTW WE HAVE A NEW DRAWING CONTEST GO CHECK IT OUT)
Scout:
Scout is actually really self-concious about his intelligence. He’s not very bright and he knows it, and it makes him feel horrible. He had flunked out of high school and struggled in most of his core classes. He honestly feels really stupid and he hates when people point it out. But luckily for him, a lot of the other mercs understand what it’s like to be looked down upon and empathize with him. Quite a few of them help him relearn the skills he never mastered in school. Engie helps him with math, Spy sometimes helps him with writing, and even Pyro has him read children’s books to them to improve his reading.
Scout absolutely loves little casual dates. Stuff like going out to eat lunch, going to the movies, maybe just cuddling up in his quarters and watching a movie. He tries to plan one every week. His dream date is taking you back to Boston to meet his family and go to a Red Sox game. But obviously, since you’re both in New Mexico at the time, he’s going to have to shelve that dream for a few years.
Soldier:
Soldier is an excellent raccoon dad. At first, the other mercenaries thought they’d all end up dead by the end of the month when he first found them. But surprisingly, they are are very well cared for. They’re all fed regularly and basically have his entire assigned quarters to themselves. He loves every single one of them dearly, even the ones that hiss and scratch him every time. The raccoons, at least some of them, are kind of like weird, quiet dogs, and actually get along pretty well with most of the other mercenaries.
Soldier is a surprisingly very physically affectionate partner, and he’s not at all opposed to PDA. He loves hand holding, cheek kisses, cuddles, the whole nine yards. Whenever he’s particularly excited, he loves to run up to you, scoop you up into his arms, and press a hard, sloppy kiss to your lips. Of course, he’s careful to not hurt you, but he’s a very intense, emotional guy and he needs to express all that love he has for you!
Pyro:
Pyro is and excellent listener, so they’re a person a lot of the other mercenaries depend on to vent. Demo often comes to them to vent about his emotions, Scout, Sniper, or Medic will rant about what’s bothering them, and even Engineer will talk about his stress. And of course, Pyro doesn’t understand a lot of what is told to them, but they’re still happy to help them feel a little better, and they would happily do it a hundred times over to make their friends feel better.
Pyro has a hobby of baking and making candy/treats, and they love sharing everything they make with you. When they first gave you a treat, you honestly thought it’d be burnt or bad in some other way. But to your surprise, it was amazing! They’re actually and excellent cook, but they just love making sweet things the best. They’ll make you just about anything you could ask for without hesitation, but they’re best at making anything sweet.
Demo:
Demo obviously has the potential to pretty emotional when he’s drunk, there’s no doubt about that. But on the off-chance that he’s sober, he’s actually pretty sweet and considerate. Though he still is a rough-housing joker, he’s much more considerate of his friends’ feelings and has deeper and more meaningful conversations with them. He often likes to go to bars with his friends and co-workers on ceasefire weekends, having lots of fun conversation, drinking together, and generally causing chaos around town.
Demo, to put it simply, doesn’t like himself. He’s critical of everything, from his skills to race, because people have always put him down about them. His mother told him he’s lazy and unskilled too many times to count, just everyone makes fun of his eye, and many have made fun of his skin color. But you make him feel so much better about himself. Just the fact that someone so kind and gorgeous is actually with him makes him feel like he’s not as horrible as he thought. There’s been a couple of times where you’ve accidentally almost brought him to tears with a sweet compliment or show of affection, because he never thought in a million years that someone would love him and care for him like you do. He feels so blessed that he has someone like you.
Heavy:
I know the fandom’s decided that Engie is the Team Mom and makes the food, but I also think that Heavy cooks a lot too. He makes all of his own food, so he often makes a lot of extras to feed the team because a lot of them just eat junk food and Medic’s always complaining about their eating habits. Heavy often takes like half the food for himself (he does have a huge appetite and loves food, so he likes to take a lot) and just boxes up the leftover portions and leaves them in the fridge for the team to take. He says he’s only doing it because they can’t work properly if they’re unhealthy, but he also does it because he cares about their health. A little bit.
At first, you wouldn’t think Heavy’s the most cuddly guy. But surprise, he actually loves giving and receiving physical affection. He just doesn’t show it often out of respect for your boundaries, and doesn’t do it around others. His absolute favorite thing is to cuddle you against his chest. Sometimes it’s when going to sleep, or cuddling on the couch, or maybe just a quick hug. He just loves the feeling of your head resting against his chest and your arms trying (and failing) to wrap around his torso. It makes him feel like you’re safe. Nobody could ever get you when you’re wrapped up in his arms.
Engie:
You’d think Sniper’s the only nature nerd on the team, but Engie absolutely loves the outdoors, as well as animals. It’s because his father would often take him out camping every couple of months. It was often the only time he would get 1-on-1 time with his usually very busy father. So he does love the great outdoors, especially that of his home state. He especially loves animals. He was raised on a farm and helped take care of lots of injured wild animals with his mother. He absolutely loves pets and would like to have many when he retires. His dream is to have is own ranch, with horses and cows and a bunch of dogs and the whole shebang.
Engie absolutely loves playing the guitar, so of course he loves playing for you. He learns all sorts of sweet love songs to sing to you. He’s an excellent player and actually has a pretty decent singing voice (think Johnny Cash, he kinda has that singing style). I hope you like country music, because that’s all he’s going to sing to you until you give him some requests or he finds out your favorite artists or genres. You can tell how happy he is every time he gets to surprise you with a new song he learned, and he’d be a giddy, laughing mess if you sang along with him.
Medic:
You’d think this guy takes horrible care of his birds because of the environment he keeps them in, but his birds are actually exceptionally well cared for. He buys them only the best and most expensive bird food, gives them super high-quality water with vitamins n stuff in it, takes them to the vet regularly, the whole shebang. Yeah they get a little dirty from sitting around in his lab, but he always gives them a little bath at the end of the day to get all the blood and guts off.
Medic is honestly such a playful partner. Of course, around his co-workers he’s a little more professional; he still gives you soft touches, a kiss on the cheek, or a big smile, but that’s about it. In private, however, he’s such a sweetheart. He’s always sweeping you up into big hugs, kissing all over your face, and calling you all sorts of adorable nicknames in a variety of languages. It comes as a surprise, because you’d think he’d be a little more formal, but that’s really only for special occasions. It honestly brings him so much joy to have someone like you by his side, and every day he’s going to make sure you know just how grateful he is to have you in his life.
Sniper:
Sniper is an incredibly independent and self-sufficient man, but he’s also secretly a real mama’s boy. He loves his parents dearly and has a particularly close relationship with his mother. As well as sending them money every month, he sends them all sorts of gifts, letters, postcards, and souvenirs. He also makes sure to call them regularly. He goes home every couple of months to visit them, and one could see that he loves helping around the house and chatting with his parents. His mother loved gardening, so his number-1 favorite thing to do is help her in the garden.
Despite Sniper’s obvious lack of knowledge on self-care, he takes a lot of time out of his day to make sure you are happy, healthy, clean, and well-fed. He doesn’t hound you like a helicopter parent but he likes to ask how you’re feeling, if you’re hungry, stuff like that. It feels nice to know you’re taken care of or take care of you himself. If you switch it around and try to take care of him, however, he’s honestly baffled as to why you would care so much as to make sure he’s doing well. He does absolutely love the affection and attention he gets out of it though, it makes him feel loved.
Spy:
I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a head canon that Spy has a dog. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s an elderly Chihuahua. One would think he’d buy a French breed, but he found her out in the pouring rain one day and fell in love with her fluffy ears and spunky personality. She’s now 17 years old, extremely frail, missing most of her teeth, and extremely aggressive to anyone other than Spy, but he loves her dearly and pays for all of her medical expenses without batting an eye. And of course, she expresses her thanks with lots of kisses.
Spy loves dancing, and knows all kinds of dances, from flamenco to ballroom dancing to the Charleston to, canonically, disco. So of course, he’s dying to share all of the most romantic dances he knows with you. He’d love to actually teach you how to dance, rewarding you with kisses every time you finally get a move right and laughing softly when you make mistakes. But in reality, he just wants to use it as an excuse to dance with you against his chest and smother you in affection.
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serene-victory-77 · 4 years ago
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Why The Crows Being Teenagers Is Actually Perfectly Realistic
There’s a TL;DR are the end because wow I like to rant.
I lightly discuss the general situations they’re all in to explore how they are frighteningly mature and competent, but it’s not particularly depressing or descriptive, it’s definitely lighter than the books
I thought about this post with a joke first: “People who think that Six of Crows is unrealistic because they’re so young clearly have not spent much time with traumatized honors students.”
It’s a bit of an exaggeration, but the point stands.
But I decided that, hm, actually, I could make a point about this. I totally agree with the aging up of the characters in the Shadow and Bone show, but when people straight up say that the books are wrong or unrealistic for having a young crew, I get annoyed, and here’s why (other than me reading the books for the first time when I was 13 and thinking ‘Huh okay, I see it’ and now being lowkey offended when people say they ignore it for being unrealistic):
On Inej
- At first I thought Inej’s wisdom and general demeanor was one of the most unrealistic things in the book
- When I thought about it longer, I was like “Actually, she’s 16, right? I’ve sent some of the most lyrical philosophy trying to help my friends while in high school. My friends have done the same. It’s valid.”
- Frankly, teenagers love hard-hitting philosophical truths. They love repeating what they’ve read or heard in movies and in books and from family stories. They love sharing little bits of wisdom they have come up with
- Inej’s ability to hear and understand philosophy and wisdom that she was surrounded by for 14 straight years and then sit on it and elaborate it for her friends to understand, or even just to piss them off in Kaz’s case? 
- Teenagers have that. They do it. So, Inej’s Wisdom passes, to me. It’s valid. 
As for her being calm
- You know how everyone jokes that Kaz seems calm on the outside but when you get to his POV he’s like “What the fuck” at the Van Eck house or just straight up “Huh, is this revenge for making tree jokes” at the Djel River thingy in the Ice Court?
- Inej is like that, too. And she gets angry, and she gets confused, or exhausted.
- AKA every quiet kid ever. Like, are you kidding? Have you ever been in a situation in which it’s literally chaos all around you, people are screaming and things are being destroyed (think middle school classroom with bitchy long term substitute and even worse students), and you’re just, calm? You pick up your things, you do what you need to do?
- That’s Inej. Like, what else is she gonna do? She’s smart enough to know that panicking won’t help anyone, and so she just rides it out. Internally she might be like “Why is this happening” but frankly, her being quiet and controlled in most situations is probably a coping mechanism and I respect that
- Pretty sure this is also based on the fact that the Suli have no land for their own and constantly have to keep moving. It might align with generational trauma, I’m sure someone could explain it better than me, but being able to keep your cool while constantly having to change and adapt to new situations, in, say, a country with hellfire politics and no land to call your own? Seems like a hereditary trait that could be useful in Ketterdam, although it’s sad.
On Inej’s abilities
- Simone Biles started training when she was 6 and went to the World Artistic Gymnastics Championships when she was 16, where she qualified in all the events. 
- There are videos of people walking over tightropes as young as three years old. We know Inej didn’t start that young, but not only was she naturally talented at it, but she spent a lot of time practicing. I think it’s valid. Plus, some of her family members do some pretty crazy things in her flashbacks, because that’s the whole point of what they do. 
- Youngest person to beat American Ninja Warrior was 16 year old Vance Walker
- Inej has a variety of of tools that help her wall climb, and while it’s true that she started young and got good really fast, she already had a history of physical work that would help her, and from what we can gleam from the book, a surprising amount of free time in which she was actively encouraged to learn everything she could. 
So that’s Inej! I think her skills are perfectly possible for someone with her history and situation. It’s true that she’s naturally skilled, but that’s not actually all that unusual. And her demeanor and wisdom do fit in with what a lot of teenagers are like and the circumstances she was brought up in
Onto Kaz!
- One thing I hear about is that Kaz is too smart for not having gone to school and also too young to know all that he does
- Do you all KNOW how many self-taught people there have been in this world? The word for people who are self-taught is autodidacts, and honestly a huge amount of famous people apply. Like many, many other people in history (there’s a whole list of them in Wikipedia), he had an vested interest in a field and he learned all he could. Sure, those fields were magic tricks and math, but still.
- Suddenly I have a lot of thoughts
- Okay, think, hyperfixations. That’s essentially what Kaz’s thing with magic tricks was, right? Have any of you ever spent time with an eight year old that clearly really, really loves dinosaurs? Those kids can spout names and facts and identify them by their skeletons and frankly know more than I ever will. Kaz’s was magic tricks. All kids are special.
- Kaz continued working on magic tricks and practicing them for years, so, I think that gets a pass. 
- As for the math! Look, a Fact Of Life is that some kids are just Like That, whether it be possibly from neurodivergence or other factors:
- Flo and Kay Lyman are twins with Autism who basically have the calendar of EVER memorized. Kaz memorizing card decks is sensible, and these ladies don’t need to look up anything to figure it out, so Kaz doing sums inside his head seems plausible. His “photographic memory’ isn’t impossible, although the term itself might be incorrect.
- Katherine Johnson who worked at NASA (yes, the lady from Hidden Figures), was so good at math that she was in high school by age 10 and went to college at age 15. It’s true that she had some teaching, but 1. There’s no evidence Kaz had absolutely no schooling, even if it was just at home with books and 2. Kaz was 9 when he came to Ketterdam, and after Jordie died, when he wasn’t surviving, he was learning. 
- Human calculator is a term that is applied to children a lot and there’s definitely plenty of videos showing how smart these kids are and them doing mental math easily, which he does in the books
- He had a LOT of pressure on him to figure out all he could, and if he wanted to move forward, he was going to have to learn a lot. He spent hours practicing magic tricks, for all we know he spent hours practicing math too. We know Jordie was a bit of a bookworm too, so Kaz from a young age probably already had a reason to learn. Personally, a lot of my love for books was inspired by my older sibling when I was younger
- Young people are adaptable. Kaz is incredibly adaptable. The term prodigy exists because of people like him through history. 
- As for him being rational, there’s no other way to survive. Some of the greatest soldiers in history have been very, very young, and very, very smart. It’s true tacticians are generally considered to be older, but that doesn’t mean there haven’t been very young ones. 
- A lot of the generals I found were like, 19 years old, but Kaz is 1. not a general and 2. in a place where young people take up the mantle really, really quickly, and frankly it’s been like that for a long time. I still think this passes. This isn’t relevant but William the Conqueror was apparently called “The Bastard”?
- Frankly, underground communities of thieves probably don’t go around publishing their escapades so to me it makes sense that I can’t just look up “famous young thieves” and get anything that makes sense, but I did try
- Y’all I tried to do research on youngest escape artists since I think Kaz qualifies and I found myself in what I think is a magicians forum? It’s from 2002-ish and I feel like I’ve just found a relic. I can’t definitely prove they’re all saying the truth, but some of the people there talk about 10-11 year olds at magic camps, so, it’s not impossible for this to be a skill Kaz learned really young, particularly when he made a habit of following around magicians
- I think he passes the realism check overall
For the other Crows:
- Nina being so proficiently multilingual makes sense to me, because she’s been in the Little Palace almost her entire life with all the best teachers they could afford at her disposal. Some people just click with languages. One such would be Timothy Doner, who spoke 23 languages at 16. 
- Nina is a child soldier. She of course can handle the battlefield, although I imagine there’s a degree of trauma that she has to deal with (although it’s true that most of her work was always meant to angle her towards being a spy).
- Jesper was taught to shoot from a young age by Aditi, who was likely incredibly proficient. Plus, there’s mentions of him and his father being on some sort of frontier at one point in the books, so, it’s likely that Jesper got his fair share of ‘being a child soldier” since he would’ve been 15 or younger. Plus, with being a Fabrikator, he gets a leg up
- Jesper’s smart y’all, he just also likes to have fun
- I am a little terrified by the fact that I looked up ‘youngest sharpshooter’ and found out about a 9 year old girl (Addysson “Addy” Soltau) who can indeed shoot guns, but uh, it does prove my point
- Matthias... I haven’t heard anyone really argue about Matthias. He’s the oldest at 18 and again, he’s essentially a religious child soldier. Of course he would be built af and know how to handle himself in a fight, and in a flashback about meeting Trassel, we’re told that he was actually distanced from the other boys and was the biggest and strongest/smartest of the group. Perhaps not compared to Kaz, but still
- We know how Wylan ended up how he is, so I don’t think i have to defend how he’s both a musical prodigy, good at math, and good at chemistry. Plenty of kids who can’t do one thing will immediately gravitate to a different field (think AP math students who can’t write essays, or those kids who could analyse a book and it’s metaphors in class but didn’t understand geometry).
- Granted he took it far but it’s kinda implied that  his father ignored him eventually and what else was Wylan going to do
- I don’t really know how he did chemistry while not being able to read the symbols and stuff, but that’s likely because I’ve never had to learn the way he did and also I really suck at Chemistry, but I refuse to believe that it invalidates his capabilities
Final Thoughts:
- They’re Traumatized Honors Students
- People might say that “it’s unrealistic that all the smart ones somehow ended up together” but again they’re traumatized honors students and those gravitate to each other
- Of course the smart ones ended up together, they’re the ones in those crazy situations precisely because they are prodigies. Nina wouldn’t have met Matthias if she wasn’t skilled and a spy, Kaz wouldn’t have known Inej if she hadn’t been skilled at silence (I can’t explain that one but uh ninjas did/do exist and it IS still a fantasy world). Kaz would have never been a leader of the Dregs in a position to find Jesper if he hadn’t been so determined to rise to the top, and Jesper wouldn’t have been in Ketterdam if his father hadn’t thought that Jesper was smart enough to get that chance.
- You know how those fringe revolutionary artists for new eras end up knowing all knowing each other and even hanging out? That’s them.
- I have decided there is a strong basis for Autistic Kaz, someone who is more studied than me should feel free to explore this.
- I read this book a few years ago, A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah. It’s about this guy’s experiences as a boy soldier and it’s a painful read so I’m not sure I recommend it as a casual read, but he talked about these young kids being able to actually make competent military strategies and handle warfare. It’s an extreme example of what I’m trying to explain when it comes to them being able to handle the brutality of their situation, but it’s true, essentially
- They are definitely serious, but if you think they’re not teenagers I just, disagree so much. They have moments of lighthearted banter, they make light of their situation, they try to support each other Nina covers it so well in her farewell at the end of Crooked Kingdom: The little rescues of laughing at each others jokes or eating together and just supporting each other, is not only a very human thing, but a very teenager thing. 
- Scary experiences that shape us happen all the time, and although for most it’s not the things that the Crows experience, picking each other up is a big part of why they do read as teenagers to me. I’ve seen kids be able to seriously converse about things like being questioned by the police, or being left to their own devices for days at a time, or the general impending doom they all feel, and it’s dark, but they’re also going to joke about silly puns 20 minutes later. 
- Teenagers aren’t exempt from terrifying maturity and competence
- Finally: Despite all I said, it’s a fantasy story and doesn’t have to be realistic
In the end, everyone can believe what they want to believe, but this is my case for my opinion.
TL;DR The Crows are all prodigies and a lot of their achievements and capabilities are based in reality and there are real people who actually achieved things like what they’ve done. Messed up prodigies gravitate to messed up prodigies, hence how they all end up together. When it comes to their mental state, most of them have been brought up their entire lives in situations that required for them to problem solve and keep their cool even when things are going to hell.
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nyantry · 11 months ago
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Had it not been for Nico, Nova's little spiel might have been received differently. As it was, though, Dmitry was used to Nico's own no nonsense attitude. Instead of finding it threatening, he found it oddly... endearing. The more he hung out with Nova, the more he saw similarities between her and Nico, and it only seemed to make Nico that much more adorable in Dmitry's eyes. No, this kinda thing he was familiar with. It drew a smile from him, not offense nor discomfort.
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"Hey... I love Nico; I'm not about to be a jerk at you. Like I said, I'm willing to answer questions, and you must have plenty. You're careful, I get that. I'm just saying I'm careful too. I'm sharing because I choose to, you matter. But I'm sharing only because I want to." He was quiet for a few moments before adding, "It's a compliment. I don't really know you yet, but I'm choosing to tell you things anyway because I know and respect what you've done for Nico. You just need to know no one can make me do things I don't want to do. That is a decision I made, and no one goes above that one. Not him, not Lisbeth, not anyone."
He realized, of course, that by saying that he was exposing that there was a deeper reason why he'd drawn that boundary so long ago. That, he hoped she would understand not to ask about. If she was as much like Nico as he had gathered, though, he was also half-expecting she would ask anyway, precisely because of the personal nature of the topic. In a way, he was trying to let her in, even if he wasn't quite sure how to go about it.
He was definitely interested in the geometry topic, though. As she spoke, he was visualizing what she was describing, playing with the figures in his mind to try and connectt he dots. She was basically telling him that with these pictures, he could do anything. "Holy shit, it's like... wormholes and quantum entanglement."
Then, a natural follow-up question. "When people mess up... How exact does it have to be drawn? I mean, there's gotta be a point where it's acceptable and beyond that, it's considered an error, right? So, a tolerance. I can get the stars pretty accurate, I measure the distances in ratios when I put them on the ceiling. I can tell Nico to get me a few tools and I can make it even more exact if need be. Circles, lines, it can be done freehand," he drew a few shapes carefully to illustrate his skills, "or there's stuff like stencils, rulers, projectors... Just depends." In another life, he could have been a phycisist or an engineer. He would have wanted the former, but he'd have been just as good at either field, really. What he had was a mind attuned to patterns, mechanisms, tinkering.
"Nico sucks at math. He's real smart, he just doesn't do numbers like I do, I think. Loves asking me about it though," he chuckled. "I'm sure if you or I explain it to him, he'll get it. He just has to want to get it, y'know?"
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He was quiet when she asked what was after him, however. He thought about it carefully. What was it that he needed to be protected from? Many things, surely. Some more credible threats than others, too. On one hand, he was almost caught off-guard by the fact that she cared to ask at all. It made sense: she loved Nico, Nico loved him. Therefore, he mattered to Nova too. But some part of him had also always just been accustomed to being ignored, neglected, forgotten and abandoned. It was nice when people cared. It was terrifying when people cared.
Immediately, a few threats came to mind. His father, perpetually occupying first place, was not one he was currently concerned about regardless. The guy was dead, roasting forever. He'd made sure of that, and Nico had gladly confirmed. Chernabog, whose name he didn't actually know, was second. There was just something so deeply unforgivable about Nico having been harmed like that. His own death was something Dmitry could look past, but torturing Nico? No, that was unforgivable. So him, second place. Third...
"I don't like Murmur," he told her, plain and simple. "I don't think he'll hurt me, he has... good reason not to. But I don't trust him and I don't like him. Demons around him, even less. There's also... If I describe one of them to you, do you think you can figure out who it is? I don't have a name." He thought some more. "Not... so much after me, but after my mom. She's safe for now, but I wanna bring her here I think. She'll be safer that way. They're human, though, I don't think it'll take much to stop them from getting here. And... not to keep away, but to allow in, I trust Sammy. He can help, if we need. He's done so before."
She rose a brow when he deflected to Nico. He looked rather healthy for the rumors she had heard. With a comment like that she believed he was eating well. Still, the deflection struck her funny coming from someone who probably thought a normal sized meal was a fatty's calorie ridden smorgasbord. Who knew at this point? It was why she was asking questions.
"Good, good-good...good to know. Glad you cleared that up because I didn't want to have to call you out for the beligerance and immaturity it takes to cry out for autonomy by demanding you owe me no explantion about yourself when you're the one that brought me into this situation, welcome me into your home where I'm now expected to try and survive accordingly as a fugitive, and then act like I have to walk around in it blind if you so choose with no idea what I've gotten myself into. Just trust blindly. Ask no questions like a good mental freak and be thankful you walked with us as my son who I love but haven't seen in years broke me out of a demon's trap, who's current life I know absolutely nothing about. Mhm. Mhm. Got it. Try not to forget I didn't actually belong there."
She had to momma-zone mic drop the little welcome-home-I-owe-you-nothing-little-guy for just a moment.
Then she carried on because what else a momma knows is if that's her son's partner, he matters. What she was going to get that partner to figure out, a boy's momma always matters too. Owes her nothing her ass.
Back to sacred geometry. At least that he seemed to want to stay focused on. No deflections.
"Yes." Oh she was happy there. She could see he was getting it. "You got it. The lines on a demon's or angel's sigil aren't just a logo because it's pretty. They're all equations. Lines that link to their energy. It's the math to tune into their vibrations. Learn the codes to summon or protect. Ward and bannish. You've got the idea. You get it. It works for places too. Different realms. Dimensions. Higher plains. It's why you see yogis or meditators trying to use this stuff and claiming visions."
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She shimmied up a little closer going off on another tangent. "You've probably heard of dabblers in the occult making things go wrong. Like they meant to summon so and so and got someone else. It's not always because they're weak witches. It's because they did the wrong math. They're not practiced. It's why a weak sayer can accidentally tap into a power that overpowers them and unleashes something too dangerous to control or just something went wrong in a spell. The geometry wasn't mathmetically correct. Every line matters. The symmetry. The pitch on the tuning fork. Everything in a ritual. Whatever is being used. Every energy matters. Magic is science. Science is math. Geometry is sacred. We need geometry on our floors and walls, even the attic. We're going to keep a lot of bad things out. Murmur's sigils is his own equation. Things like this can be left as a calling card. It's a link in or an escape route. But we can block the gate. That's one step in making the house safe for Nico and me for that matter. I'll teach you everything."
"I never taught Nico." She admitted. She realized now maybe that was a mistake. He was so young. She did it all herself being mom taking it on back. She tried so hard to not worry him because he was always so worried. She'd see that look in his eyes and turn everything back to play time again wanting him to have some form of childhood in all this.
She was running through her mind what she used to have in their house back when she lived with Nico when he was young as she nodded. What ended up being her undoing was the humans watching her plan for demons. Even that she realized was part of the demon's plan. He was grown up now so no more child services. This was a plus. That's why bear traps were on her list. For the humans. She'd be out digging booby traps before too long for trespassers. But then she had to wonder something else.
"What's after you? What do we need to protect you from?"
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rethmyc · 3 years ago
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Ai Arts on Trial
I've been seeing a lot of Ai art discourse and I figured I'd join in with my 2 cents for once. The issue is more nuanced than it first appears and I want to share. If you disagree with me then great! I want to hear why. Lmk ur thoughts.
Art is hard to make. I’ve been drawing and 3d modeling for years and I really enjoy it. I know for a fact that there are artists out there massively better than me that have put in even more effort to perfect their craft. Props to them.
I've been playing around with Ai art for about a week or so. After some good discussion with my siblings here are some points I'd like to share.
Ai art is accessible and allows unskilled users to create things they enjoy.
Ai art is equal to drawing stick figures. Everyone knows it’s a “low form” but we weren’t trying to go in a museum anyways.
Classical artists should be allowed to opt out of being part of the training data or be otherwise compensated for their contributions.
The technical side of ai art is quite impressive. One can be “good at” creating prompts to get a specific effect. It is not entirely without skill.
Ai art can be useful for rapid prototyping of classical media projects.
Computers have been part of the artistic process for decades now. You’re telling me you did that gaussian blur yourself? You did all the math for that fluid simulation personally? All that raycasting was calculated by hand? What’s the difference?
As of right now, ai art is not good enough to replace human artists. Even if it did I don’t think it would pose a real threat to the community. If you want the best possible art piece, commissioning a human will be best.
People who make ai art should be called artists based on the amount of time and effort they put in like anyone else. Someone who generates images with some simple keywords is not at the same level as someone who uses long prompts, negatives, and inpainting.
The people most at risk are smaller artists. Their quality of work is most easily mimicked and they have the most to lose. They have the right and responsibility to push back against ai art.
If a person were to go and study all of a given artists works, practice their style, and gained the ability to recreate them perfectly, I don't think there would be any backlash. The style is "stolen" all the same, and the original artist isn't making money off of the new artist's creations. Ai follows the same process but much faster. What's the difference?
The main difference we noticed was scale. A person who practiced can't hope to create as many works as a trained, well prompted Ai in the same amount of time. At least, I don't think so. I'd like to test that.
Individual, personal use of Ai art generators is probably not going to spell death for classical artists. Large scale, corporate use is going to be an issue though. If Pepsi is making ads using Ai's trained on images they don't own, there ought to be legal repercussions.
This is similar to the invention of the sewing machine on a personal and industrial level. Hand sewing garments no longer needed so many people. Will the people be replaced by Ai artists? Or will those same people adapt and start creating even more art than before with Ai as a tool?
Cameras didn't destroy painting or drawing. Why should Ai generators destroy other media?
Ai art probably doesn’t belong in a museum (tbh what media do and don’t is its own topic of debate), but it also doesn’t deserve total hatred from artistic communities.
If you disagree please tell me why! I just want to start a discussion about this. The technology is here and it's not going to leave, we need to talk about what we're gonna do about it.
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aomine-ryo · 4 years ago
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kise breaking up with fem s/o like maybe he just used her or it was a bet or idk (yaaas angst but idk if you could make a HEA work at the end?? but yeah :P) scenario pls thank youu ❤️❤️
The DRAMA lmaooo
I really like writing for Kise ngl so it’s kinda long. I hope you like this :) x
Scenario: Kise using and breaking up with a fem! s/o
Kise Ryouta likes playing games. Basketball, football, tennis— you name it, he’s probably played it. But things like sports take a long time to hone enough skills to thoroughly enjoy it. So what does Kise do when he’s in the need for a quick bit of fun? Fool around with girls’ hearts, of course.
Kise’s track record with girls has not been the best. In fact, the track record is so incredibly long that it would take a week to get through it all. Despite this, he gets girls falling for him time and time again because of his looks. It’s quite pathetic to him really. At this point, he’s just seeing how far he can go with this. The moment he gets bored with the girl he’s with, he calls it quits and moves on to the next. Toying with their feelings over and over.
You were fully aware of this. But for some reason, you thought you were different. No one could blame you to be fair. There’s something charming about Kise that no one could resist.
Prior to your relationship, you and Kise were actually quite close as far as classmates went. He was paired as your lab partner for Chemistry and he also sat behind you for Math so it was inevitable that you had to communicate. He’d tell you all about basketball and all his endeavours with other girls and you’d just listen whilst trying to make sure he didn’t cause any chemicals to explode (it was quite ridiculous how often this nearly happened).
“So, Y/N, what’s your deal?” He asked you in the middle of a practical activity one day.
“My deal?” You repeated in a questioning tone, taking your eyes off of your notes to look at him in confusion.
“You know, I’m always the one sharing. Tell me about yourself. Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked you.
You did your best to hold back a laugh so that you didn’t seem pathetic in front of your crush. “No, I don’t,” you answered simply.
“Seriously? When did your last relationship end?” he asked, getting way too comfortable with the questions.
“I’m not sure. Maybe a year ago?” you replied, hoping this conversation would end because it was embarrassing on your part.
“A year?!” Kise exclaimed far too loud for your comfort.
“Geez let the whole school know, why don’t you?” You snapped, a tint of pink rising in your cheeks as you looked around nervously.
“Well that’s just simply wrong. Someone as cute as you shouldn’t be single for that long,” Kise said smoothly, catching you off guard as your cheeks got even brighter.
“Hm, sure,” you muttered in a sarcastic tone as you did your best not to leap in joy at the fact that he called you cute.
“No, I’m serious. Let me take you out on a date,” Kise said with his award winning smile.
You felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest and lay limp on the table in front of you. “Ha ha very funny. As if you even like me like that,” you said, maintaining your cool and logical thinking.
Kise placed his hand on top of yours, which was resting on the table, the sudden warmth sending your mind into a frenzy as you looked at him with concern. “Well I’ve actually liked you for a while now. I was kind of just working up the courage to actually ask you out,” he said, the sweetness of his words paired with the way his thumb grazed over the back of your palm swaying your judgement.
You took a deep breath in attempt to collect your thoughts. You had to be realistic here. You didn’t want to end up like those other girls he talked about. “You’ve practically gone around the whole school. What makes me so different to the other people you’ve gone out with?” you said, hating how harsh you sounded.
Kise seemed to be impressed by your response. It wasn’t often that girls would question him like this. However, it just make him smile with joy. He liked a challenge; you would be adding good fun to Kise’s game.
“I’m not sure. Something about you makes you so easy to talk to. You should know— after all, you know so much about me at this point when I barely know anything about you,” Kise said before tightening his grip on your hand. “We’d work well as a couple, don’t you think?”
You tried to think it over, but your mind was far too blown away with this information that you couldn’t even form a coherent thought. Every part of you screamed at you to say yes, but you were still hesitant. You didn’t want to end up getting hurt. “Could you give me some time to think about it?” You asked, noticing Kise’s smile falter a bit.
Hearing that answer made him ecstatic though. It had been a while since someone seemed to be uninterested. It just meant that he could try harder and improve his game. Which is exactly what he did. He gave you a few days to think about it, but he certainly didn’t sit idle and wait around for a response. He’d send you texts every now and then, engage in flirty conversations with you during class, and even buy you chocolates in attempt to get you to say yes.
It worked though. In the end, you couldn’t say no to Kise Ryouta.
To you, it seemed like he liked being around you. He was always giggly and cheery and your relationship seemed to be lasting longer than the average length of Kise’s past relationships. Maybe you were the one who could finally tie him down.
“Hey there, cutie,” Kise smiled at you as he walked into the classroom of your after-school club one evening.
As usual, the supervisor was not around when Kise entered so he took his liberty in placing a peck on your lips as a way to greet you. A few of his exes were a part of your club and they’d always roll their eyes at the act, but you didn’t pay too much attention to it. “Hi Ryouta,” you’d reply softly once he pulled away, though his hand would remain on your waist.
“Ready to go?” He asked.
“Err,” your eyes scanned your area to see if you’d left any of your belongings. “Yep, all good,” you nodded, letting him lead the way out as you waved a quick goodbye to your friends.
“So, how was your practice?” you asked him as you walked across the school campus towards the gates.
“It was fine. Nothing new. You should come watch me practice, it’d be much more fun with you there,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder and causing you to lose your balance for a moment.
You couldn’t help but giggle at the act. You were now pressed against the side of his body as you walked, and the scent of his sweet cologne was stronger than ever. “You know I would if I could,” you replied.
“I like having you there to cheer me on. Plus I won’t miss you during practice then,” Kise said, causing you to blush. He’d used this line on countless other girls before and it always worked. It was fun to watch how you’d all just wrap around his finger so simply.
“God that’s so cheesy,” you said, averting your gaze out of embarrassment.
“Well it’s true,” Kise responded. He didn’t get that kind of response often but it was still clear as day that you enjoyed it.
Kise placed a kiss on the top of your head as you two continued to walk and talk about your days. This was how it always was with Kise. He’d pick you up after school and walk you home, saying goodbye to you with a rather passionate kiss.
Every now and then, Kise would be left home alone, so he’d call you over. And who were you to say no spending time like that with Kise? You had to admit, Kise knew what he was doing. You were never left unsatisfied. Surprisingly to Kise, he actually enjoyed this time you spent together more than he did with most other girls. He didn’t think too much of it though because he had made up his mind about you. You were just another one of his little games.
A few weeks into the relationship, you had started feeling more comfortable with your relationship with Kise. In fact, most of the school had begun to identify you two as a couple. Everything seemed to be going smoothly with him though, so you weren’t all too worried about that because you genuinely did feel like there was something between you two.
One Friday evening though, he picked you up after school with a smile like he always would. The two of you liked to visit a nearby cafe after school on Fridays so that’s where you were headed. He listened to you talk about your day though he seemed to be a little less responsive than usual.
“Hey Ryouta, is something wrong?” you asked him after you two finally settled down at the cafe after placing your orders.
“I know this is kind of sudden, but can I be honest for a moment?” Kise asked, a discomforted expression sitting upon his face.
“Of course, you can tell me anything,” you nodded, putting a hand over his reassuringly as a waitress placed his hot chocolate and your strawberry milkshake on the table.
“These past few weeks with you have been amazing,” Kise began. He always hated this part— it was such a pain. “And you’re really a cool person.”
“Aw thank you. That’s so sweet of you,” you smiled as he took a sip of his beverage.
“But I don’t think that this is going to work out between us, Y/N,” he said, making your heart sink.
“What?” you said hoarsely, unable to believe your ears.
“I think we should break up,” he reiterated.
You struggled to fight back your tears as your throat felt as though it was closing up. You should’ve known this would happen. “I don’t understand. What went wrong?”
“Y/N, you’re amazing and I feel like you probably deserve better than me,” Kise said. He’d used this line many times before too. However, a small part of him was genuine about it this time.
“Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?” You said, thinking out loud.
Kise was taken aback by your response. Did you see through him? “Lying to you? About what?”
“About why you’re breaking up with me. Someone like you wouldn’t think that there’s anyone ‘better’. So what is it? Is there someone else?” you couldn’t believe how blunt you were being. Your mind was moving too fast for you to process what was even going on.
Kise hesitated for a moment. He didn’t have to tell you the truth. He could easily lie his way out of this. Make up any other reason that isn’t the truth to spare your feelings. How could he say that he’s bored of playing around with you in a nice way? “I never actually wanted to be with you,” he said, words flying out of his mouth as if he drank a truth potion.
“Excuse me?” You said, appalled by what you were hearing.
“I mean, I was using you— wait no, I was just messing around.” Kise was a stuttering mess. Why was he saying this stuff? Why was he nervous to hurt your feelings? Why couldn’t you have just accepted that he wanted to break up easily like everyone else?
“You were using me?” You repeated his words, your sadness slowly turning into anger. “So was I just another fling of yours?”
“No,” Kise replied immediately. What was he saying? Yes you were.
“No?”
“I mean, yes you were. I was just bored and decided to date you for fun,” Kise said honestly, unable to even look at you in the face.
“So it’s true then. I’m just another one of your throwaway girls?”
“Yes,” Kise said. His eyes looked down in shame. Why was he mad at himself?
“You’re such an asshole!” You yelled, throwing your milkshake into his face, gaining the attention of everyone at that cafe. “Never talk to me again.”
You stormed out of the cafe, wiping the tears away from your eyes as you did so. Kise was left sticky, soaking and dumbfounded. This was certainly a first. He grabbed a few tissues to wipe the drink off of himself, but it was no use, he was still visibly covered in it. He quickly left the cafe too after apologising to the workers for causing a scene. He felt so embarrassed. Not once did he ever feel so hurt after a break up.
“Ugh what a bitch,” he muttered to himself as he walked home all sticky. Why was that so incredibly difficult? If anything, he was glad you told him not to talk to you again because he was equally mad at you for putting him on the spot like that.
When he got home, he immediately took a shower and tossed his clothes in the laundry basket. Once he was finally clean, he landed on his bed with a tired sigh, beginning to go through his phone like he usually would when he gets back from school. He noticed that you had blocked him on all social media, so there was no way of contacting you— not that he wanted to anyways.
He spent the rest of his weekend lazing around and going out with his friends like he usually would. He tried to get a fresh start and get the numbers of a few cute girls he saw, but for some reason all he could think about was you. He’d ask for a girl’s number and they were more than compliant, no witty comments like you would do. He’d go to the mall with his friends and remember which stores you liked to shop at. Hell, he couldn’t even have peace in his own bedroom because he’d remember you laying there with him. Countless other girls have been on this bed so why were you the one that stuck?
Kise did his best to avoid you at school. It wasn’t all that hard since you were doing the same. You inevitably had to work with him during Chemistry, but you could do so with minimal words exchanged.
A few weeks went by and Kise still couldn’t get you out of his mind. He tried going out with other girls but they never kept Kise’s attention long enough for him to forget about you. There were even times where he’d almost call them by your name. It was getting pathetic at this point. Maybe he did actually like you.
Kise’s mind entertained this thought for a while and it was slowly picking him apart. It even began to affect his performance at basketball because his mind was so occupied with the thought of being in an actual relationship with you. He was beginning to grow tired of running extra laps as a punishment for not being focused.
What made you so different? Kise couldn’t figure it out no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps that milkshake to the face woke him up. No other girl would dare do that to him. We he really being swayed by the fact that you threw a milkshake at him?
Eventually he gave up trying to figure it out. However he did come to a conclusion. He wanted to be with you. For real this time.
He managed to run into you after school one day. After dating you, he managed to memorise your schedule so finding you wasn’t too much of an issue for him. “Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Kise said.
Hearing his voice immediately made you turn on your heel and attempt to walk away as fast as you could. It was no use though, Kise quickly caught up to you and stopped you my grabbing onto your wrist.
“What the hell do you want?” You snapped.
“I wanted to say that I was sorry for using you like that,” Kise replied, pushing away his pride.
“What do you want me to say? That it’s okay that you wasted my time?” You retorted, trying to wiggle your wrist away from Kise’s hold.
“I genuinely am sorry. Something about you made it so that you never left my mind and now I’m trying to change, I just don’t know where to start,” Kise explained. “How do I get you to forgive me?”
“You can’t. Just leave me alone, why don’t you?” You said, finally breaking away from his grasp and walking away before he could bring you to tears again.
Kise ran after you once more. “Y/N, please. I really like you. I want to date you— for real this time,” he pleaded.
You finally stopped in your tracks. You stared at him with the coldest expression your face had ever worn. “Are you insane? What kind of desperate idiot do you take me to be to think that I’d agree to going out with you again?” you said, raising your voice.
“I don’t know what more I can say except that I’m sorry about before. I genuinely do like you, Y/N. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since we broke up. Ask any girl I’ve dated and I can assure you that I’ve never backtracked like this before,” Kise said, noticing tears of frustration beginning to well up in your eyes.
If you were being honest, you really wanted to believe that he liked you. The time you spent together wouldn’t have felt like a waste if that were the case. However it still hurt. And you didn’t want to be hurt like that again. “I don’t know, Kise. How can I be sure that you’re not lying to me again?” You said.
“I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again, but I can promise that I won’t lie. If I lie, I’ll buy you as many milkshakes as you want to throw at me— you can hold me to that.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of his promise, putting a smile on Kise’s face as well. You took a moment to think about it before finally letting out a sigh, “Fine, I’ll give you another shot. But one lie and you’re buying me ten milkshakes to throw at you,” you warned.
Kise’s heart filled with glee. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him feel like this. He was so elated that he nearly started skipping down the pavement. “Oh my god thank you,” he said, pulling you into the tightest hug ever. “I’ll treat you right this time, Y/N-cchi.”
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innocentbi-stander · 5 years ago
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I’ve decided that this is a fantastic idea so I’m going to tell you all about it:
Acrobat jaskier
Jaskier ran away from his home at the age of 11
(he says he ran away but deep down he knew it was only a matter of time before his displeased father kicked him out anyways)
Being 11 years old alone on the road is not the best experience, jaskier grows used to not having enough to eat and being kicked around
One day when in a small run down town in the middle of nowhere, a troupe of performers arrive
Jaskier instantly falls in love, and watches every single performance
He is caught by one of the troupe members when he tries to swipe an errant coin that was thrown their way
The performer who catches him is a lute player named Maria, who’s soft eyes remind Jaskier of his long dead mother
Maria doesn’t turn him in for stealing and jaskier is rather shocked when she invites him to come have dinner with the troupe
It's the most fun he’s ever had, loud chatter and sharing dishes he’s never heard before
Jaskier stays for dinner and then never really leaves, Maria asks him one evening if he’d like to stay with them and he doesn’t even need to think before he says yes
The troupe is full of a wide range of performers, from musicians, to contortionists, jugglers, and knife throwers
Jaskier loves life on the road with his pseudo guardians and he learns how you can have family that isn’t blood related
Of course one doesn’t travel with a troupe of performers without picking up a few things, and far be it from the troupe to leave their youngest member without the skills to protect himself
They teach him how to charm with a smile, how to disguise oneself with the right clothes
Jaskier learns to have a silver tongue, sharp eyes, and how to dip fingers into pockets so lightly, an unsuspecting person won’t even notice you’ve lightened their pockets until they’ve gone back home
Maria teaches him to play the lute, gently guiding his hands and showing him how to tune and strum
Oswald, who also came from noble descent, is relentless is schooling jaksier, insisting that life on the road or not, he should know his maths
The knife throwers teach him how to punch, how to hold a dagger, how to throw it with frightening accuracy, and also how to do a whole mess of showy tricks that have no practical use but look pretty cool
He learns how to cook a meal out of scraps of almost nothing, the values of carrying spices and not being picky
But what jaskier loves the most, maybe even more than the lute, is what he learns from the acrobats
They teach him to train his body to be flexible, to stretch in ways no common human villager can manage (jaskier isn’t really all human but neither are most of the performers)
He learns to flip and twist, and to love ill advised heights, and he’s good, better than anyone was expecting
Jaskier wants to be a musician but he knows he will always love acrobatics 
Eventually jaskier leaves the troupe to attend oxenfurt, but never stops writing and meeting up with his family at any turn
When geralt and jaskier began to travel together, the witcher is mystified by the manic skill set of the young bard
On the road jaskier strums his lute and sings, stumbling over small rocks and potholes, clumsy like he is still getting used to the length of his limbs
But when they stop to make camp, he pulls himself up into tree branches with immeasurable grace, and geralt watches wide eyed as he swings and flips with little thought to where his hands and feet will land. It’s like breathing
As the years go by, geralt understands that it's just who jaskier is, full of energy and a thousand odd skills
Sometimes as they travel jaskier will perform endless cartwheels, backbends, walking on his hands
There are daggers strapped to his person, and geralt often sees the bard idly flipping them in intricate moves that make geralt fear for his fingers
Jaskier has demonstrated that the daggers are not in fact just for pretty tricks, as he throws them with deadly accuracy and hands movements as practiced as when he plays the lute
Geralt had asked him once about the origin of his skills, and jaskier had simply waved him off with an errant smile and a “oh it’s just a family thing, I just happened to pick it up”
Jaskier may seem like the average bard with his sunshine-y persona and constant smiles, but geralt learns quickly that jaskier has a temper and an awfully short fuse for those insulting the people he cares about
The amount of town’s they’ve had to vacate because the bard got all fancy and stabby over some run of the mill witcher prejudiced towns people is frankly, ridiculous
Geralt’s a little impressed but he won’t tell jaskier that
So they travel, and fight monsters, and argue with each other, and try and disguise how they feel, and everything is pretty much the same except jaskier can lift his foot over his head with minimal effort and geralt tries his best to keep from drooling too obviously
There’s so much more potential for this but I didn’t want to make this post too long, so what do you think folks? Part 2 worthy?
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fenmere · 2 years ago
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Ooh! Ooh! We want to analyze this in comparison to our own personal experiences, because we can!
We're plural. Multiple people sharing one brain. Which is KIND of what Nanase is doing with her spell here.
Now, of course, we have to keep in mind a few things.
This comic is Dan's universe, with Dan's rules. It works the way it needs to work for him to tell his story. This is doubly true when Dan's magic is involved. The limitations that the magic has overrides the limitations of Dan's physics. So, nothing below is criticism, only a pondering that could lead to some cool developments if Dan so wishes.
Also, human brains (and probably the brains of all creatures) are all wildly different from each other, neurodiverse, so this spell may have different levels of affects on Nanase than on anyone else using it.
And we postulate this because we are autistic and ADHD and plural, and in each of those neurotypes we have never been able to find any two people who function with the exact same limitations or bonuses.
Anyway, so.
We're plural.
We experience what Nanase is experiencing. But, normally, to a much lesser degree.
Like, what we perceive as so much lesser that in our novels where we have people doing what Nanase is doing, only with the aid of technology instead, they don't notice any detriment to their cognition. But, then, also, the technological aids do expand their neural resources with simulated Network neurons.
And, also, we've been plural our whole life and we don't know what it's like not to be. We don't know where our baseline is.
OK, review and explanation of what's going on in this comic.
Nanase is creating a magical construct, or summon, named Fox. And Fox is using part of Nanase's brain, and therefore making it harder for Nanase to think. And the characters are learning why and discussing it.
We notice this kind of thing in ourselves, but in reverse.
The reason is a bit different, too.
In our system, and not necessarily in any other system, we each are centered in various locations in our brain. We kind of occupy those neurons that are local to us.
I, Fenmere, am in the part of the brain that handles putting together linguistic structures. Not words, but sentences.
When I'm not awake, the whole rest of the system has a harder time doing that. They still can. They can still use my part of the brain, but a lot of the neurons there that hold my memories won't fire as readily if I'm not awake, and my memories and skills specifically will not be accessible.
And then, when I wake up and join the system in coconsciousness, those skills will suddenly return, along with a greater awareness of everything due to my connections with our senses also being available.
I've been present when Anne the Girl was asleep while we were playing cards. Eh was fronting and trying their best, but really floundering. Also, our vision, hearing, and other senses, felt like they were in sort of a fog. It's possible that most of my side of the brain was asleep.
But then, halfway through the game, Anne woke up, and the fog went away, and we saw very clearly all the patterns in the cards that helped us to start winning. Even more telling was that our intuition, our gut feeling for whether or not we were winning or going to get a good card, improved dramatically. So our subconscious was working better.
We've experienced this multiple times with Anne. She's a very good card player. She's pretty good with intuiting math, in fact. And without her, we tend to make more mistakes.
So, what we think it would be like for us to use Dan's magic to do what Nanase is doing is that we'd end up dedicating a number of system members to run Fox. Maybe just one, but probably a whole team, because we like to work in teams.
And those system members who are running our Fox would not be available to help with running our body.
So, we totally see Dan's model of the human brain here absolutely being plausible.
A plural system that is more dissociated and separated than we are might not notice much of a difference, however. Because they've learned how to function without cooperation from each other, and a system member going off to run or inhabit Fox would not take any neural resources away that they're not already keeping separated from their other members.
Any singlet, however, would probably experience exactly what Nanase is experiencing. To one degree or another.
Maybe. You never know for sure.
Anyway, this leads us to a suggestion that Dan might already be considering.
Nanase could maybe learn to lend Fox specific skills and talents. Like, OK, Nanase is going bowling while Fox works on math homework. Nanase should be able to keep her hand/eye coordination and most of her other bowling skills, but should stay away from the leader board or from trying to figure out any change when buying food.
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Wifi Fox! Do your best!
Clearly the solution is to have Nanase wear receiver boosters before summoning Fox.
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obeymeluv · 5 years ago
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Random Headcanons for the Bros (SFW + NSFW)
I’m bored and was thinking about the more ‘demon’ noises they’d make. It turned into a bunch of random headcanons (SFW + NSFW).
Enjoy!
These got really long so I skipped Belphie for now. I was getting sleepy and I need more time to think up some headcanons for him.
I think I caught all the spelling errors but I’m not sure. Super sleepy...
Lucifer
His ‘angry’ demon noise sounds a lot like the ones koalas make. It’s not an especially deep or rugged noise, like a lion, but this simmering mess of hisses and clicks with a bit of air in it.
Tends to keep his mouth closed and tongue fluffed when making the noise so it sounds more subdued/reptilian
Lucifer’s horns are very sensitive. Mammon found that out at an early age. His beloved could use this to their advantage, but it does bring the teeth.
Would deny to his last breath that he likes head massages or temple rubs. If you can manage, give the guy a shoulder rub and he’s putty in your hands. Won’t even speak. Might make a clicky purr sound though.
When he doesn’t want you to leave or could really use another minute with head scratches, his tail will wrap around your wrist and hold it in place.
When you share a bed, he’s not a snuggler. Lucifer’s the type to be content knowing you’re in the same space. He moves in his sleep, though, so you always end up a little spoon
Asmo says he has a size kink, but he’s not sure. Lucifer will begrudgingly admit he likes power dynamics. There’s something thrilling about grabbing you by the throat, as delicate as you are, but being so gentle with you.
He’s not the most aggressive biter in bed, but he will use his teeth and claws for the sensation. Lucifer’s big on anticipation and overstimulation
Weak for neck kisses, especially at his pulse. Attack! He WILL get even though, so beware.
Doesn’t openly think he has any clothing-related kinks, but he’ll stare a bit longer if you dress up in red or black.
Would never do it in front of his brothers because of the teasing, but very much the ‘come sit in my lap’ type.
His pride won’t let him allow any public fun times, not even the fear of getting caught, but he does get off on flustering you and watching you pull yourself back together before anyone catches on
The ‘lots of strong, long kisses’ kind of guy. Not big on French kissing unless he has time to indulge and knows he won’t be interrupted
Runs very hot when he sleeps. He prefers to be shirtless so cold sheets take the edge off.
You’ll come before he does. It’s a matter of pride, after all.
His love language is helping you get organized (if you’re not), and tracking down resources to things you’re interested in because that’s within his skill set. Also good at creating absolute silence for you if you have a migraine.
If Lucifer makes a pact with you, it’ll be around your heart because it takes a lot of self-sacrifice to do. He’s TRUSTING you.
Mammon
Mammon sounds like an angry tortoise when he’s woken up too early, when he’s embarrassed (or in denial), or telling one of his little brothers to shut up without saying it
I head cannon that he actually needs the glasses he wears. Or that he has contacts and just wanted yellow frames because yellow is the color of Grimm
It crossed my mind that he might wear them just so he can see everything as golden and beautiful because he remembers the Celestial Realms and misses it
He says he stays with you because Lucifer assigned him, but once you connect with him on ANY level (say something nice, defend him, just give him attention instead of suspicion), he’s 100% whipped. Wants to be with you all the time and chase that feeling you give him. He needs more of it. Has to have it!
Mammon’s a sucker for getting his hair played with. Run your fingers through it, play with the ends, and you could probably rob him blind
Will also pester you for back massages because he jacks up his back running from Lucifer all the time (and trying to run off with heavy shit to pawn)
Is really good with math, has bad impulse control, and gets very distractable. Would probably surprise a few of his brothers with his math mark is and the fact that he could tutor if he stays in the right mindset. 
He’s the sloppy/needy kisser that has to be as close as he can. He’ll end up between your thighs and somehow surround you.
Big on little butterfly kisses.
He’s not a full-on biter, but he’s a nibbler. He’s a hickey expert and he wants them to be seen.
Actually super easy to turn on. If you take his glasses off and get close enough to see him, he’s hard because you rubbed up on him coming into view. Also: praise him. IT WORKS!
The Avatar of Greed probably has a breeding kink. Just saying.
Might complain about it, but he’ll give you piggyback rides and carry you if you ask. Literally, all you have to do is ask.
You can’t do the whole ‘laying in nothing but my earrings’ because he’ll either take your earrings out before sex to look at them (very much an ‘oh, shiny!’ person), teeth them during sex and break them, or he’ll think you look so good he’ll want to pile on ALL the jewelry.
Steal his clothes to wear them? He’ll lowkey cry. YOU LOOK SO CUTE, ALMOST AS GREAT AS THE GREAT MAMMON!
Prefers to be the little spoon, but honestly if you fall asleep with him you guys end up tangled up together. Usually face-to-chest, but some kind of tangled up together
Can’t always keep up the dirty talk in bed because he gets so sappy, but he’s big on soft touches, hickies, and needing praise if you want him to go harder/faster when he’s in his gentle moods
Will fight Belphie for King of Lap Naps. Mammon would monetize your nappin’ thighs but then he’d have to share them and that just seems like a bad business idea.
Main fantasy? You begging. Beg for him to do anything and you’re occupied for the next few hours.
Has a bit of a smart mouth so he’ll also get into banter with you and if you get the last word, he’s super embarrassed, proud, and give him a consolation kiss or something, huh?
Helpless when you initiate it because SHIT that was bold and he can’t believed it worked! All you have to do is say his name, look him in the eyes, then his lips, and kiss him. If you think you’re walking away, you don’t make it far.
The type to con you into a quickie in the closet our just out of view/hearing of the others.
The type to write checks his mouth can’t cash 85% of the time. Call his bluff. If he invites you into the bath, do it. Walk in naked. You might have to save him from drowning. 
Leviathan
Levi’s angry noises sound like bearded dragon hisses. Those hisses are used for warning, frustration, and when he does the uncomfortable prickle of awkwardness. When he disagrees or is bashful, they get a warble/chatter to them.
I headcanon that they can also take on their demon form when they feel threatened, as it puts out an aura and makes them more defensive. Levi can transform the easiest due to him feel uncomfortable and not being the most sociable.
When he’s in demon form, his tail will either wrap around him for comfort or will go over to the person he most trusts to comfort him. He tends not to consciously want to touch Lucifer with his tail, but there’s something instinctual about going to the oldest brother. He usually goes to Satan or you (if you’ve reached that type of intimacy)
You would think a guy that shamelessly plays a lot of otome games and uses them as social guides (even though they’re far from perfect) wouldn’t be so susceptible to a peek of skin or nudity, but LEVI IS WEAK!
That whole ‘shirt rides up getting a library book’ thing? He’s dead.
The biggest virgin, basically. Boy’s got a strong imagination and he’s sensitive from the whole ‘gross otaku’ complex.
His biggest fantasy? Water play. He wants to be the big, scary monster who grabs a tasty, tiny human and has his wicked (totally consensual) way.
One of the more adventurous bros because he’s seen a lot of stuff in anime and wants to know if it would really work.
Will definitely ask for a blow job. It’s the shortest blow job ever but he loved it.
Is weak for any kind of kiss so have at it! Especially likes kisses on the mouth, shoulder kisses (because that means cuddling!), and kisses on his chest or belly.
The type to get addicted to sex once he has it, but not helplessly so. He won’t say no if you ask.
Is too embarrassed to ask you to wear some of his clothes so he just kind of leaves them in your room and waits to see if you wear it. If you don’t, he buys you matching clothes so you HAVE to.
Once you’re dating, you’re his good luck charm. No ifs, ands, or buts! He NEEDS you for game night, even if you fall asleep in his arms, okay?
After getting used to the idea of giving you affection and understanding your boundaries, he’s dropping a forehead kiss 24/7.
He hisses more than his brothers, and his tongue can do some tricks the other bros can’t. He’s WAY better than those other dumb humans, too.
You’re one of the only people who can pull him out of his room. He becomes aware that you get him out for exercise (or because Lucifer asks) but if he leaves the House of Lamentation and has you to himself, he won’t complain.
Satan
Cougar noises--the chuffs, the growls, the yeowls, all of it. He is big angry kitty boy
He’s afraid of losing his temper but he’s got a ridiculously tight grip on the reins. You wouldn’t think he’s the Avatar of Wrath until one of his brothers set him off.
His love language is gentle pets, a good book, and a cup of tea. He’s your guard when you don’t want to deal with the outside world. Because Satan’s super logical and admires detectives, his love language is also helping you solve your problems. He just conveniently shows up with something that helps (because he’s been listening and is a background type).
Is emotionally keen, perhaps because his cardinal sin is wrath and he can be sensitive. He has a radar for you and it calls him like a moth to a flame.
Want to seduce him? Read to him. It’s that easy. Share your favorite quotes.
Or just take a cheap shot and do something with cats. He may enlist you to smuggle Hellcats into the House of Lamentation since Lucifer can’t do anything to the precious exchange student. Being its ‘parents’ will bring you close.
Doesn’t like mornings but forces himself to be a morning person. HIGHLY enjoys it if you’re not because it’s so nice to see you go through all the stages of discontent before resigning yourself to getting up and starting the day
He’s not easy to fluster, but he’s the ‘tried and true’ when it comes to getting bothered. If you find something that works, file it away because it will ALWAYS work.
If you fluster him, he has to make it even. It’s the only way he’ll feel good about his weakness. Much prefers if you’re worse off than he is, actually, because there’s something delicious about it
A bit of a sadist. Prefers drawn-out pleasure and taking you for all that you can give
Loves to catch you with that studded tail and keep you in place. Very much likes to drag you back to him. That looks pretty, too.
HIS TAIL IS SENSITIVE. TOUCH IT. PET IT. HIS IQ DROPS TO THE SINGLE DIGITS.
Doesn’t know what to call his kinks, but the idea of restraining you is a nice one. Likes the positions where he has to hold you against him or in place, or can move parts of you to better fit with him. Big on taking you from behind.
Doesn’t care if he’s the big spoon or the little spoon. Just wants to make sure you’re there with him.
Has a fantasy about you serving him tea naked in his room.
Big on biting, and is usually embarrassed about the marks the next day
The type to let you throw your legs over his lap and read in contented silence with you, occasionally massaging your leg
Boy likes legs. Show ‘em off.
Interrupt intense studying sessions (because he over-studies and studies WAY TOO EARLY FOR TESTS) with snuggly pop quizzes (”Who’s cute? A) You, B) The Avatar of Wrath, C) Satan, or D) All of the Above”) because he lives for it.
Cheeky and unexpectedly playful. Will wake you up with tickling or tracing. If you are romantically involved, he’s definitely woken you up with a squeeze or kiss at least once
If you’re in a pact with him, it shows up on your thigh or hip.
Very proficient with magic. Has probably found a way to bring it into the bedroom.
Asmodeus
The cuddliest boy
His angrier noises tend to sound like a giant salamander but his cute flirty/chirpy noises sound like a toy gecko.
I headcanon that Asmodeus became part incubus when he fell to Devildom, or that he ended up with some of those traits once he became the Avatar of Lust
He can feed off the various types of love emotions (genuine love, sweet crush love, jealous love, sex, etc.) but it doesn’t fill him up as much as hunting humans or other demons. It’s just something he can feed off of more frequently so it keeps hunger at bay.
Will pamper his crush or someone he holds dear because that’s bonding. He wants SOMEONE to understand the lengths he goes through to be beautiful! It’s a process! Respect him!
The biggest hype boyfriend ever. Will take your confidence to new levels and show you that you can rock anything
Epitome of ‘looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you’ trope
Are you having a play date with makeup? Turn those lipstick swatches into lipstick kisses and he’s got to stop and recollect himself. His little heart’s going so fast!
Glows when you praise him. It could be something he’s heard for centuries but somehow you say it better than anyone ever has.
When he’s feeling extra affectionate and just really loves you, his eyes will be a pinky-red.
Wants to be babied. Please kiss him.
100% down for soft cuddles and luxurious touches. Long days spent in bed and slow, dream-like sex.
Doesn’t really like his hair messed with because he works on it a lot.
Touch his arms, his back, and his chest and he’s all yours.
Will kiss you anywhere, but his favorite place to kiss you when you’re cuddling is on the inside of your wrist
Prefers to be the little spoon.
The skin on his shoulders can dry out when he takes on his demon form. Something about the texture of demon wings dries them out really bad. Put lotion on him and he’s singing your praises.
Gets you into the most exclusive places and plans the best shopping days. Your off days will be the envy of everyone in the Devildom!
Asmodeus is very perceptive when it comes to his love, and very receptive in terms of sex. It feels like the world’s longest questionnaire before you have sex, but he needs to be ABSOLUTELY clear about your experience, comfort, what you like, and what you don’t.
Probably gets off first because the act of having sex is very heady and strong. It’s a massive energy boost at once. It’s the second-best type of feed he can get and makes him feel drunk/light-headed.
Definitely makes up for it. You probably won’t be able to walk afterwards.
Big on PDA around others. Holding hands and matching nails!
When Asmodeus makes a pact with you, it shows up in aesthetic places like your shoulder, your wrist, your ankle, or above your chest.
Is big on receiving praise but not as big as Mammon
Sex with him can be rough and hard, sweet and gentle, and everything in between. Is very likely to mess up your clothes because he has a hard time controlling his claws when he’s in the moment but you can wear his clothes. It’s fine.
Will give you hickies. Loves the colors they take on your skin.
If he’s helping you get ready for an event, all that pretty makeup might get messed up when he takes you against the vanity. He can’t help it!
10/10 the best, most supportive boyfriend. A sweetheart with claws.
Beelzebub
Sweetest boy. The one that has good intentions even if things don’t go to plan
Very loyal. He’s neutral to everyone when they first meet him, but he’ll quickly pick favorites or befriend someone if his intuition says he should.
Beel’s a pretty good people-reader. Maybe it comes from being an older twin, but he knows a bad heart when he sees it
Is very empathetic and can get really upset for his hungry fury. It’s hard to shake but if you’re gentle/persistent, you’ll get a smile.
If you get some tears, just hold him and tell him it’s okay. You know it’s hard to control.
Also on team ‘play with my hair’
He’s a sucker for kisses around his ear, the base of his throat, AND HIS STOMACH. KISS THAT TUMMY!
Forgets that he’s built very differently than you and is honestly amused by how awe-struck you get with his muscles.
Squeeze his bicep. It makes him blush.
Quiet fawning over his muscles really warms his heart. Just praise him, kiss him, and run your fingers over his chest and you’ll get the good, deep rumbly polar bear purr.
Beel has deep, rolling demon noises. It’s something about how tall and wide he is that makes the reverb shake deep in your bones no matter how gentle it is
Will think the stars of you if he catches you looking after his family.
His heart skips a beat and his face goes super red if you pack him snacks with little notes on them
Is 100% down for food dates.
Loves carrying you. He’s nice and helpful and when you start dating, he just loves having his tiny human close.
Has to learn to temper his strength when you start dating because he tried to be cute and scoop you up but almost threw you into the ceiling
Very gentle bear hugs from very gentle Beel
Prefers you to climb on him when you want to cuddle that way he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. Loves to feel you struggling to climb on his back.
Likes to snuggle your arms when they’re wrapped around his neck (especially when you’re getting a piggyback). Absently rubs your thighs/knees because they’re in his hands.
Lots of absentminded but heartfelt kisses because you smell good and he loves you. He just wants to kiss you, not taste you! (”One more, please?”)
Has a size kink. He’s a big boy so you’re probably smaller by default and you’re just easy to pick up and hold and--boy’s going to bust a nut just getting you into position
Big into oral because you smell good and taste good and he could eat you for HOURS. He has the strength and stamina, trust me.
Has the best jawline of the bros because he’s always working his mouth muscles.
Tends to take you from behind just to minimize the height difference but he’s also had sex in the kitchen, in his bed, and is coming around the idea of you being on top of him.
Won’t leave hickies but he’s the suckling type. Most likely to leave fingerprints/handprints
Heavy post-cuddler.
If you feed him (even jokingly) after sex, he’s going to immediately roll over and want to go again.
You love him enough to feed him and he just loves you and--?!!
If you cook him anything, he’ll definitely give his compliments to the chef
Always buys you cute aprons and things to wear in the kitchen. Has a matching set even if it doesn’t fit him very well.
If you make a trip to the human world, please come back with a bunch of cheeseburgers for your baby. He’ll love you forever (even though he already does).
Loves to cuddle. If you rest your head on him, he puts his arm around you and pull you in close. He’ll initiate the ‘in lap cuddling’.
Is surprisingly good at potions because he’s familiar with the ingredients and can tell if you’re on the right track based on how it smells.
Loves to feed you. Won’t say no to being fed. Didn’t know he had a finger kissing/sucking kink until he was being careful with a bite of food and somehow still got your finger (no damage though).
When you make a pact with Beelzebub, it shows up on your stomach.  
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ibijau · 4 years ago
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Counterfeit AU pt6 / On AO3
Meng Yao makes himself useful after losing his job, and discovers something unexpected
Names are funny things, Meng Yao thinks as he stares at the sheet of paper in his hand. 
Funny things indeed.
-
After everything that went down in the Hanshi, it's Beastie that saves Meng Yao from himself.
Left to his own devices, he would have either wallowed in misery, or waste time proving to himself that everything that happened wasn't his fault, the way he knows he's done in other lives. But when he comes home after having his past lives thrown into his face and losing a job he loves, Beastie’s mother corners him just as he puts his key into his lock. Her daughter is on school holiday, she explains, and was supposed to be looked after by a friend with children of a similar age. But one of the children came down with something contagious, so the whole plan fell through, and the poor woman now desperately needs help finding someone to look after her daughter.
She’s not asking for Meng Yao to play the babysitter, but he knows so many people, he has so many connections, maybe he could pull a favour somewhere, help her out again.
“I can take care of her for a few days,” Meng Yao offers without thinking. “I’m jobless as of today.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! What happened?”
“My employer died,” Meng Yao replies, which is close enough to the truth. He doesn’t think Nie Huaisang will continue using his Shanzi alias after this, and they’ll never meet again. He might as well be dead. “I don’t plan on looking for a new job right away, so I can babysit for a while, it’s no big deal.”
She tries to insist that he doesn’t need to be doing that, but quickly agrees after some reassurance that Meng Yao doesn’t mind. She looks so relieved she could cry as she says she’ll drop Beastie in the morning. Meng Yao smiles, certain that his mother would be proud of him for doing what’s right.
Having Beastie around is definitely the best choice he could have made. She’s a good kid, but she’s also high energy and needs to be entertained, which means he doesn’t get to think too much about how much he misses Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen. 
They watch movies together, as they’ve always done when he picked her up after school. They go for walks to a nearby park, and once to a museum to look at old armours and swords. He buys Beastie a fake sword, though they agree to keep it at his place, since her mother already despairs that she so strongly favours boy’s toys. In fact, Meng Yao ends up just spoiling that little girl, the way he would have loved someone to do for him when he was her age. He even has Nie Huaisang’s console repaired so she can play on it, instead of selling it as he’d intended.
The video games are a big hit with her. She’s particularly in love with the same game Nie Huaisang spent too many hours on, that weird little terraforming thing which Meng Yao can’t see the appeal of. He liked that it made Nie Huaisang happy. He likes that it also makes Beastie happy, and that she’s very careful not to ruin the work previously put into it, focused instead on maintaining it and planting flowers
“It looks like home,” she explains when Meng Yao asks about that, and lifts the console for him to see.
It doesn’t look like a homely place, he thinks, and more like a military fortress right out of a wuxia drama. But Meng Yao doesn’t get to make that remark, because his phone vibrates, demanding his attention. Beastie, sitting crossed legs on some cushion on the floor, goes back to watering virtual flowers, while Meng Yao checks some news from his bank account. A lump sum has been sent to him, a good deal more than his usual salary, coming from an account registered under a name he doesn’t recognise.
It has been a week since he was fired.
Nie Huaisang kept his promise.
It really is over.
Not that Meng Yao really doubted it. Nie Huaisang has many faults but indecision has never been one, though he’s always been good at pretending otherwise. Once his choice is made he toys with expectations but rarely ever changes his mind.
Rarely, of course, isn’t never. Meng Yao, foolishly, hoped to be one of those few exceptions. 
Those new zeroes on his bank account feel like a divorce, and he never even got a honeymoon. 
That night, Meng Yao allows himself a few hours to wallow in misery, after Beastie went back to her mother. He is only human, and it does feel good to eat take-away in front of a cheesy romance. The film's hero doesn't get the girl, who was dead all along. Meng Yao cries, even though he's seen that movie before. 
By morning, he's in control again, and takes Beastie to the park so she can run around in the sun, and scare pigeons with her sword.
Those holidays are all great fun, until Beastie’s mother reminds them that she has homework to do.
Beastie is a clever kid, there’s no doubt about it, but she doesn’t much like doing her homework, least of all when she feels she could be playing. It takes all of Meng Yao’s negotiation skills to get her to even look at her school books, and he almost resorts to bribery to make her pick up a pencil. But she works hard once she starts, and Meng Yao, wanting to encourage her, sits with her at the kitchen table to update his resume. Beastie will go back to class soon, and inactivity just isn’t in his temper.
When Beastie is done with her work, she gets permission to put on whatever movie she likes while Meng Yao checks what she’s done in case it needs correcting.
But when he picks up the sheet of simple maths she’s expected to give her teacher on monday, all Meng Yao sees is her name.
It’s really funny. He knows her name of course, though he hasn’t heard it in a while. Even her mother took up to calling her Beastie after he nicknamed her that. It just fits her so well, that active little girl who prefers trousers over dresses because they're easier to move in and always wants to play at fighting. She’s a real little monster, and Meng Yao loves her like that. She’s just Beastie.
But according to the homework she’s spent the afternoon on, she’s also Nie Mingjue.
It could just be a coincidence. Names are funny like that, they pop up in unexpected places, they get forgotten and reused. Perhaps in another life, Meng Yao would have just dismissed it as a random incident.
In another life, he wouldn’t have been called Meng Yao.
It’s the first time this happens since that first life they all shared. He’s Meng Yao again, Lan Xichen bears his old name too, and now he’s found a Nie Mingjue, hiding right under his nose. A Nie Mingjue who likes fighting, and claims that her toy sword is actually a sabre, and who always insists a lot on things being fair, even when Meng Yao tries to give her the biggest share of a food she likes.
It can’t be a coincidence.
Meng Yao needs to tell someone.
He needs to tell Nie Huaisang.
He tries, of course, and without surprise his former employer’s number has been terminated. He has the same luck trying to send an email. Nie Huaisang might as well never have existed. Meng Yao feels helpless, torn between tears and laughter. After spending centuries looking for his brother, Nie Huaisang just might have lost his chance due to being so damn dramatic. Serves him right, Meng Yao thinks, still bitter about being discarded so easily, and never getting a chance to see if things might work better in this life.
Bitterness doesn’t last. Meng Yao cares about Nie Huaisang, more than he should if he were a little smarter, and he knows how important finding his brother again would be for him. And if Nie Huaisang can’t be directly contacted, there’s always indirect ways.
It’s not that Meng Yao misses Lan Xichen, he tells himself that night, when Beastie is back with his mother and he starts writing a long text message on his phone. Well, it’s not just that, anyway. He does miss Lan Xichen, sweet and funny and so eager when talking about art. But more importantly, Lan Xichen probably has access to Lan Wangji, who clearly must know how to contact Nie Huaisang. 
Texting Lan Xichen is a strategic choice. 
The way Meng Yao's heart jumps inside his chest when Lan Xichen immediately replies is… it's strategic too. He's just glad that his plan is working. 
How have you been? :)
I could have been worse. I've just realised something and I think it concerns you. I've told you about that kid I babysit, haven't I? 
Little Beastie? Is she okay? D:
She's Nie Mingjue. 
This time, the answer isn't immediate. Meng Yao stares nervously at his phone, wondering if Lan Xichen thinks he's lying, or planning something. Considering their first life, who could blame him? 
But after a few minutes, his phone vibrates again. 
Sorry, I dropped my phone and couldn't get it back from under the couch. Are you sure?? (⊙ˍ⊙)
It all fits. You could come meet her if you want. But it's him, I'm sure. 
Did you tell Nie Huaisang???
I can't contact him. Are you in touch with Lan Wangji? Maybe he can warn him. 
I have his number, I just texted him! I'll keep you updated! It's so wonderful if it's da-ge!! Can I really meet him? ╰(*°▽°*)╯
Her*?
I'll send you my address. If you can come tomorrow, she'll be there.
Are you sure? I don't think da-ge would still want me around. (≧﹏ ≦)
Meng Yao gives that question the consideration it deserves. It's not an unfair worry to have, and he'd be wondering the same if he hadn't known Beastie for so long. 
I literally killed him, and he killed me. If she had to hate anyone it'd be me, but we get along great. We're no longer the same people we used to be. It's the same for her. 
If you're sure, then I'll come! (❁´w`❁)
-
Meng Yao is very sure indeed. 
So Lan Xichen comes. 
It's odd to invite someone to his flat. It's a small place, a bit messy, full of trinkets and DVDs that Meng Yao would never admit to owning, not with the image he wants to create. He's always avoided guests. But having Lan Xichen over is as rewarding as it is terrifying. Lan Xichen brought some charming little cakes, as if he's visiting someone important, and he smiles at the sight of a movie poster on the wall, confessing he watched it so often as a teenager that the tape broke one day. 
"It's my favourite too!" Beastie exclaims. "Meng-ge has it, you know! Can we watch it now?" 
Normally, Meng Yao would point out that it's a little rude to ask that when they have a guest. But he can see that Lan Xichen is nervous and unsure how to act around Nie Mingjue, and maybe a movie will let them all relax. 
In the end, they spend a pleasant afternoon, the three of them. Once Lan Xichen stops worrying that the Nie Mingjue of old will appear and shout at him for getting him killed, he starts chatting with Beastie about her favourite movies, what she's learning in school, what she wants to be when she grows up. She's very happy to answer, and very impressed when he explains he's a teacher, even though she's finding it hard to accept that most of his students are fully adult.
And when Beastie is back with her mother, Lan Xichen lingers for a while, tempted by the offer of Meng Yao's favourite takeaway.
“It’s amazing how much like him she is,” Lan Xichen says as they sit on the sofa to wait for the food to arrive. “It’s the first time he reincarnates, you know. At least, Wangji told me they’d never found any trace of him before.”
Guilt shoots through Meng Yao. It’s his fault if Nie Mingjue’s soul was so fractured it took him this long to be reborn. Or at least, it’s the fault of someone he was, once, which is nearly the same, and yet completely different. Meng Yao has learned from living and dying several times, and he’s lucky enough to live in a kinder world than Jin Guangyao did. It helps.
“She’s also different from him, though,” Lan Xichen continues, moving just a little closer, until they’re almost touching.
“We’ll, for starters she’s a kid,” Meng Yao points out, wondering if he should take the other man’s hand. If this had happened before the Hanshi, he would have, but he’s not sure where they stand now.
“It’s not just that. In that first life, I knew da-ge as a child too and he was…” Lan Xichen sighs and makes a vague hand gesture. “He was a lot. Way too serious sometimes. We all were, I suppose, but him most of all. The Nie tended to grow fast, to compensate for dying young. I’m… I’m glad that he gets to properly be a child this time. That she gets to be a child.”
“The world has changed,” Meng Yao says, finding the courage at last to brush his fingers against Lan Xichen’s. “Things aren’t always easy but they’re… easier, I suppose.”
Lan Xichen’s returns that touch, gentle and careful as always. This, too, is easier now than it was back then. It’s not easy, but there’s less pressure to conform, less demands to be good dutiful sons, and just a little more space to be their own people, to make their own choices.
Maybe in their next life they’ll meet again and it’ll be even easier to be like this. But even now, Meng Yao is ready to take the chances that his past self wouldn’t have dared to dream of. He leans toward Lan Xichen, hoping to kiss him, but a knock on the door interrupts them and he jumps to his feet to go get their food. The delivery man looks at him a little funny, but makes no comment. If Meng Yao is half as red as Lan Xichen, he deserves those odd looks.
Nothing happens again that night. The moment has passed, and after eating, Lan Xichen has to go home because he has engagements the day after that he can’t cancel.
It's not a date that night, no more than any of their previous encounters were. 
It's not a date then, but next time, when Lan Xichen invites him to a restaurant, Meng Yao is informed in no unclear terms that this is, in fact, a date. They go see a movie after, and Meng Yao gets to kiss one of the two most handsome men in the world.
Life is good. 
Life is really good, and yet Meng Yao wants more. 
In spite of their efforts, Lan Xichen and him can't get in touch with Nie Huaisang to inform him that his brother has finally reincarnated. Even Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are getting worried. From what they told Lan Xichen they haven't had any contact with him since the day they picked him up at the Hanshi. 
"They say he's done that before," Lan Xichen tells him. "They think he'll return in a decade or two, maybe a little longer. Time is hard for immortals, they lose track easily." 
That's all very well for them, but Meng Yao doesn't have a few decades to waste, and neither does Nie Mingjue. They're not immortals. One bad illness, a reckless driver, just tripping in the stairs, and it's all over until they reincarnate again, and Meng Yao is done with missed chances. 
If he can't directly get in touch with Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao can make a few discreet calls to former buyers, and advise them to get their purchase asserted again, just in case. He makes sure to only contact people who bought legitimate artworks of course. He wants to make a wave, not get in trouble. If Meng Yao knows Nie Huaisang even half as well as he thinks he does, then even in hiding Nie Huaisang will be checking what’s happening in the world of art collectors, and he’ll hear about some of his buyers suddenly becoming fearful of fakes.
It’s a little mean perhaps, when Nie Huaisang is so proud of his counterfeits, but kindness has never been Meng Yao’s greatest quality.
Besides, it works.
One afternoon, when Meng Yao is alone at home, checking a job offer that he’s probably going to reject because he deserves better, there’s a knock on the door. Meng Yao considers ignoring it, but some of his elderly neighbours have been coming to ask for help with their phones or whatever new fancy blender their kids got them to make life easier. Usually, five minutes of easy work means free homemade food for his next meal, which is always a great deal.
When he opens the door, there’s a very old man waiting in the corridor alright, but free food is probably out of the question.
“Well, I’m here,” Nie Huaisang says. “Whatever is going on, it’d better be important.”
32 notes · View notes
oinkz · 4 years ago
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bound to you
— you share an umbrella with your ex, oikawa. (gn!reader)
— angst, harassment (not by oikawa or the reader), light fluff, 3.5k words, very experimental so i apologize if it’s a bit.. messy
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A dark cloud from outside the classroom window stretches across the canvas of the sky, its presence mighty and foreboding. Any minute now, it could start pouring, and that known fact is making it more and more difficult to focus on your calculus test as time lets on.
Just one more question. That’s it. And then, you can finally speed home, tend to your aching head, and take a nap, even. After the awfully long day you’ve had, you think you deserve it.
It was a cliche sort of day, not completely terrible, but it still rendered you exhausted nonetheless. You had woken late, skipped breakfast, ran into someone who was holding an iced coffee in their hand, and then strutted the school parameters in a very obviously stained uniform. (In the end, you’re just glad that the coffee wasn’t scorching hot.)
You had wanted to return home immediately after the last bell rang, but you needed to make up a test you were absent for last week. This brings you to now, in the midst of the very last question. 
With whatever wisdom and knowledge you can muster, you power through, tapping through your calculator and recalling that god-forsaken unit circle.
What even is a unit circle? You wouldn’t know, you’re merely doing enough to pass.
All you know is that one, this test wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be (thank goodness for that) and two, you didn’t have enough time to check the weather this morning. Of course, the one day you failed to check is the day the weather gods decide to hurl you with a storm.
You had forgotten your umbrella. And once you complete this math problem, you’ll have to end your school day in the most cliche way possible - with the walking through pouring rain after a particularly hard day. You see it all the time in movies and books. 
‘Life imitates art,’ they say. And it sure does.
You don’t take long before you can input your final answer to the calculator and write it down on your paper. You even box the number in, making it nice and pretty for the teacher to read through your messy work. Maybe it’s to be generous for the sake of being generous - you know, to make your teacher’s job a little easier. Or maybe it’s to lend some good karma your way, in hopes of postponing the upcoming storm for another thirty minutes. You’re a little desperate, to say the least.
“Done?” 
Speak of the devil. Your head shoots upward to find said teacher.
You merely nod, handing her the paper.
Then, you’re on your own for the remaining minutes in school. You wish your teacher a good evening, and then wander through the empty halls to find your locker.
5pm is a quiet hour for Aoba Johsai. At this point, most students have made their way home - even the ones with extracurriculars. It was a little unsettling when you first stayed late, but you’ve grown used to it.
Long were the days when you would stay in the gym till late evening to help the boys in the volleyball club. They’re memories you wish you could look at bitterly, but you simply can’t. Because in the end of the day, you were happy. So happy.
But just because it was happy, doesn’t mean it was meant to be.
You take a sharp breath inwards, hoping to put an end to this - this reminiscing. You’ve moved on now, and you’re okay. Everything is just dandy without them. Without the supposed love of your life.
You’re taking books out of your locker when you hear it - the small roar of thunder and heavy pitter patter of pouring rain. For the tenth time today, a sigh falls from your mouth. Certainly, you’re not surprised, but it still sucks nonetheless.
You just want one good thing to happen today. One.
Now, you stand at the school entrance, a low frown weighing down the corners of your lips.
There’s no avoiding it - you have to get home somehow... but still. Mother Nature can be so, so cruel. Was it not enough that you walked around school with a dark coffee stain on your blouse?
You’re so busy moping that you don’t see the painfully familiar presence quietly making his way beside you, a subtle, yet adoring smile on his lips.
“What are you waiting for?” He wonders, staring at the sky alongside with you, eyes genuinely curious.
Your heart stops for what feels like minutes.
Because you know that voice. Everyone does, but especially you.
It’s the same voice that lulled you to sleep when insomnia was eating you away. The one you’ve heard sing far too many times thanks to those long gone karaoke nights. The one that whispered ‘I love you’s into your ear when you felt completely, and utterly alone.
That voice.
“It’s raining,” you reply bluntly, wanting to end this conversation as soon as possible. It’s not because you hate him per se - in fact, it’s quite the opposite. But you would rather not be anywhere close to him. 
“Where’s your umbrella?” He asks. It’s a simple question, but it’s so perceptive. Just like him. 
Of course he remembers how you always check the weather every morning. Of course he remembers how you had always - without fail - remembered to bring an umbrella. 
You hate the hope that swells up in your stomach. And you so badly want to hate him, too.
“I—“ You start, shakily. “It’s been a long day.” 
He hums. Whether it’s in agreement, or to say he can tell, you’re not sure.
“C’mon then.”
Dumbfounded, you’re not sure what “c’mon, then” even means. You hope he’s not implying...?
Reluctantly, you look over to him, and he’s waving an umbrella in his hand.
Oh, no. You can’t.
You shake your head rapidly. “It’s okay, really—“
“Please?” his voice is painfully quiet.
He’s practically begging for you to look him in the eye.
And who were you to resist? He’s always been difficult to say no to. 
You know that more than anyone.
So, when Oikawa makes his way outside, opens his umbrella, and gestures for you to get under...
You do, despite the pure melancholy that swallows you whole.
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One year ago.
You don’t remember how it got to this point. Had you known that dating someone would have so many consequences, you would’ve been a little more careful with your feelings.
Falling for Tooru was easy, but terribly dangerous. You learnt this the hard way.
What started out with cute little love notes adorned all over your locker ended with handwritten threats telling you to.....
You can’t even think about it because it had brought tears to your eyes the first time. You’d think one insulting note about your appearance was enough, but it had worsened - even when you were trying hard to stay optimistic. Soon enough, you had to take jabs about your skills, your mannerisms, and little by little, they became daily reminders of how every single thing about you will always fall short compared to your beloved, Tooru.
“.... I can’t do this anymore,” You say, your voice barely above a breath.
Oikawa’s limbs immediately lock in place. He looks up and sees the sad look in your eyes, the way they glisten with tears. No, no, no...
“Surely, you don’t mean...?” He can’t even finish his own sentence, because the thought is too scary.
But somehow, you finish for him. Just like you’ve always finished each other’s sentences, you’ve managed to finish this one, too. Except it doesn’t make him laugh and kiss your lips in utter adoration. This time, it’s gut-wrenching.
“Yes, I want to break up, Tooru.” Your words are firm and sure, but you... you are anything but.
Tooru has to prevent this somehow, but he’s not sure how. 
How do you tell someone to stay?
When staying risks their safety?
When staying puts them in pain?
As out-of-worldly as his skills may be, Oikawa Tooru is only human. You have brought him too much joy for it just to end like this.... With some nobody who can’t keep their jealousy to themselves. And despite the pain you’re going through, he wants you to stay.
So, he brings his hands up to your cheeks, taking you in in your entirety.
“Y/n...” He pleads with his eyes, and it’s the most desperate you’ve seen him. Perhaps it’s because deep down, he knows he’s being selfish.
You swallow the lump in your throat, unable to form the right words in your mouth. Silently, you wrap your arms around his waist, so painfully slow, as if it was the last time you were going to hold him. As if to say sorry.
Sorry for what? You never did anything wrong.
He doesn’t bother to hug you back, because if he does, he’ll lose. Hugging you back will mean he’s also saying goodbye, and he’s not. He’s only just getting started with you. “We can’t...”
“We have to,” You force out, and he hates how absolutely rigid your words come out to be.
He shakes his head in denial. “No, we don’t.”
Your patience is running thin at this point. Because in truth, you tried. You always had, for him.
When the first note came, you didn’t tell him until weeks later. For months and months, you had put on a front to save his feelings and yours. At the time, pretending seemed like the best option.
But it wasn’t, because little did you know, pretending was a gateway to even more issues you had no idea was taking root in you. At this point, you’re not sure if you even know yourself anymore.
If you can’t understand yourself, does Tooru? Does he really love you, or does he just love the facade you put on?
Whatever the answer is, it doesn’t matter, because either way, you’re tired and in dire need of some healing. As terribly cruel as it may be, breaking up and focusing on yourself is truly the only way to be okay again. You may not be okay right now - if anything, the pain is excruciating - but the time will come. You have that much hope, at least.
“Yes, we do, Tooru,” you push onwards, pulling away from your embrace with a deep and sad frown tainting your features. “I love you - I really do - but I can’t keep pretending everything is okay. Those notes hurt, but that’s just the least of it... I just... need to be alone.”
“I’m sorry,” you finish with a sigh. He can’t even bring himself to ask why, because next thing he knew, you were out the door, making your way back home.
But what even was home at that point? Tooru was yours. Yet somehow, the foundation of love and passion wasn’t enough to keep it afloat.
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Now.
“How are you?”
These are the first words that are spoken after ten long minutes of silence. Tooru - no, Oikawa is uncharacteristically awkward as he says them.
You’re not sure how to respond.
Had it been anyone else, you would’ve bluntly replied with a “fine”, but the question catches you off guard. When was the last time Oikawa Tooru asked you how you were?
So, so long ago.
It was never ‘how are you’ with him, but rather, ‘do you think aliens are real’ or ‘would you ever date an alien’. Or even, ‘do you know how much I love you’ or ‘what kind of house do you want to live in in the future’.
How did someone so near and dear to you become such a stranger?
You huff out a sigh, stopping your train of thought before it wanders off to somewhere it shouldn’t be.
“I’m okay,” you answer, holding back your tongue. You don’t even bother to ask ‘how are you’ back, because if you did, he’d probably answer with something so blunt and distant, you wouldn’t know how to react.
Yet, somehow, he doesn’t. Instead, he prods further, practically forcing a conversation on you. You’re not sure whether your thankful for it, or if it bothers you. No one likes an awkward silence, anyway.
“Do you still take the same way home?” He asks curiously, but his eyes are far-off, trained on the droplets of water that surround you two.
You furrow your eyebrows. What kind of question is that? “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. I found a shortcut one day.”
He did?
How did he just find a shortcut? Out of nowhere, too?
“I know what you’re thinking.” He sighs, but it’s not out of irritation - at least, not towards you. “But I just.... one day, I was just walking around town and at the time, I was still hung up on you.”
“... So you found a shortcut to my house while that happened?”
“Yeah, basically,” he laughs at how foolish he sounds. Why is he even saying this?
“You can’t just tell me that,” you say, a little too coldly for his liking. “We broke up.”
“You broke up with me,” he argues, and you swear, somehow, the rain gets louder. “I wanted nothing to do with it. Y’know, I would’ve heard you out if you just talked to me. We were best friends, y/n.”
“I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to say?” You stop in your tracks completely. “I know that at the time, I should’ve let you speak, but rationality doesn’t matter when you get daily notes telling you how ugly you are. I just needed it to end, somehow.”
Oikawa stops in his tracks, too. You’re no longer under the umbrella with him, instead you’re willingly getting soaked by the rain. From afar, this scene probably looks straight out of a drama.
He turns to face you in all your glory. Hair wet,  eyes glassy, and makeup-stained cheeks. It’s a beautiful, tragic mess.
“Did you believe anything they said about you?” He questions, so softly he’s not sure you can hear.
But you do. You always do.
“Sometimes,” you answer. It’s the first time you’ve been honest with him in a while. “Can you blame me?”
He frowns. “No, y/n.... I could never blame you, you know that?”
Did you?
To be fair, your sense of judgement back then was quite clouded. You didn’t know what to feel about yourself, and Tooru... you had just came to the conclusion that he deserved someone better. Someone who could take meaningless insults better.
You should’ve tried harder.
“I— it doesn’t matter anymore...” you reply. “It’s been a year, Tooru.”
You don’t even mean to say his first name, it just slips out naturally.
After a long pause, he sighs. 
“C’mere. You’re gonna get sick.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, walking forward into the shade of the umbrella. 
The next few minutes are a bit conflicting, to say the least. There are unspoken words hanging in the air that no one wants to say, nor think about. 
Oikawa’s grip around the umbrella is so unknowingly tight that he doesn’t even recognize the ache in his muscles. What good would it do to rekindle a fire that never really went out in the first place?
After the breakup, he never really... moved on. He watches, observes you from a distance, and when he works up the courage to approach you, you’re gone. As difficult as it was to find you again, he still notices things that give him hope.
 He notices how your gaze unknowingly lingers as he walks past the halls. How a small smile creeps up your lips when you hear that the boys’ volleyball club had won a match. 
You still care, he knows that much.
But is it worth trying to be close to you again?
“You don’t have to ever talk to me again after this if that makes you comfortable,” he tells you, his expression weirdly unreadable. “But let me just say this.”
He pauses his walking and turns to face you. His gaze on you is so intense, it practically compels you to meet his eyes. 
You don’t like where this is going. At all. Once you get too comfortable and stare too hard, you’ll fall into the same rabbit hole you got yourself into a year ago. Being in his mere presence is dangerous, and that’s why you were so adamant about avoiding him so much in the first place.
But he’s hypnotizing and so, so tempting. One second turns to five when you stare at his face.
“I miss you. Not even just in a romantic way, but you were my friend first,” he confesses, and the sincerity that follows his words shatters your heart. “I’m sorry it turned out like this.”
A lump forms in your throat but you’re too frozen in place to swallow it. Because you see him - the little freckles on his nose, the flush in his cheeks, the dreamy look in his eyes. They hold remnants of your second year in high school, when love was what it was supposed to be - exhilarating, healthy, and freeing. 
You see him on TV, hear his name in the halls, dream of tasting his lips when you’re asleep. There was never an escape even when you desperately tried to avoid him, and now that he’s right here in front of you, you actually have a chance to touch him. To kiss him.
And you want to. So, so badly. His lips look so terribly cold and lonely. 
But who were you to relieve that?
Good god, did you miss him.
“I miss you too,” you breathe out, weak in the knees at the force of his gaze. “I wish I didn’t take those notes so personally. Wish it didn’t come between us.”
He smiles. “So hard on yourself as always, y/n,” he says, a ghost of a chuckle leaving his lips. “Anyone would’ve lost their minds. I would’ve.”
“Yeah... But I should’ve told you earlier,” you argue. “Maybe then we would’ve resolved it—“
“You are not at fault for us falling apart,” He sounds confident - as if it was a truth. 
You don’t know why he keeps insisting it wasn’t your fault. It was. 
Your only argument back is, “... Was too.”
Tooru squints his eyes. Two can play this game.
“Was not.”
“Was too.”
“Was not.”
“Was too.”
“Was not.”
“Was not.”
“Was too— oh, fuck off.” Your expression fades to a glare. 
Oh, how he missed this.
“But seriously, I never ever blamed you for what happened,” he prods firmly, making sure you get the idea into your pretty little head. The idea that he doesn’t hate you - never has, never will. “I just miss us. Do you think you could ever....?”
You tilt your head to the side. “Ever... what?”
A full on blush blooms across his cheeks. “Date me... again..?”
Now, it’s your turn to chuckle. “Seriously, you still want to? After all that shit?”
“Of course I want to, are you kidding me?” Tooru quips back, not wasting a second. “I’m crazy over you, y/n.”
That’s it.
You don’t even know what comes over you for what happens next. Before you could get a hold of your senses, your lips are on his. The taste is one you’ve had on your tongue countless of times, but this time, it’s so strange, so new.
Whatever unsaid apologies you never worked the courage to tell him take the form of this - your perfect lips, and your wandering hands. You two don’t even notice how the umbrella is long gone, allowing the rain to kiss you all over. 
He’s close, so close. His chest is pressed against yours and you can practically feel his bare skin through the thin, wet fabric of his uniform. It’s so intoxicating, you could pass out, right here and right now.
How did you ever give this up?
“I love you,” he whispers after pulling away, his hands cupping your cheeks and gazing at your face in its entirety. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.”
He doesn’t stop there, though. He nuzzles his nose into yours, then kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then plays with your hair.
You want to cry.
“You still... want me?” You ask, your voice painfully small. 
“Yeah, I still want you.” The grin on his lips don’t allow any room for question. “Do you still want me?”
“Yeah... Sadly,” you send him a cheeky smile back.
He flicks the back of your head, and soon enough, you two are kissing in the rain again.
Perhaps this is a sign that Oikawa Tooru is bound to you. He wants you endlessly, kisses like an absolute god, and unknowingly lives through all your worst days with you.
You wouldn’t mind if fate just so happened to like the look of you two together. Shitty, handwritten notes or not.
You like the look of Tooru with you, too.
84 notes · View notes
ascalonianpicnic · 4 years ago
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so the twisted marionette is back and it seems like a good time for this~ @mystery-salad requested I do an essay on Scarlet and discrimination in STEM so~
Warning: discussions of sexism, racism, and ableism. If I got anything wrong (in terms of real world issues) or was disrespectful in any way about certain subjects please let me know
Hey, let's talk about Scarlet Briar. 
More specifically, I wanna talk about Ceara, and how she became Scarlet Briar. Because I'm a gay mathematician and former computer science major, and I think Scarlet is cool.
So let's start here. STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) is a heavily male dominated set of fields and career paths. A few decades back in the real world, there was this deep set societal belief, at least in western society, that cis women were just "worse" at STEM related things like math and chemistry. It's not as visible of an issue now, but, like I said, STEM fields are still really male dominated, and that's because STEM fields still have a massive issue with sexism. Women have full on left the field due to the sexism they faced in workplaces in just the last decade. Trans women in STEM share really interesting and important personal accounts about how before transitioning, they were treated with respect, offered high level jobs, and entrusted with loads of responsibility, and how post transition, despite having even more experience, are offered significantly lower level jobs, worse pay, and are all around treated like they know less. STEM has a sexism problem. 
So, why is this important to Scarlet? Well, her backstory and her life before Omadd's Machine actually tie in to this real world issue in a really fascinating way. It's about Respect. And Scarlet's story is about how she was denied respect over and over, because she was a sylvari, because she was a woman, and because she was neurodivergent. Let's talk about Ceara. 
Ceara was a sylvari secondborn, and an engineer from the start. She emerged from the Pale Tree when her race was still brand new to the world and largely unknown. She spent 8 years of her life studying all the Grove had to offer her about mechanics and nature and the universe. She was born curious and as such, was determined to learn everything and anything she could get her hands on. After her time in the Grove, Ceara left, off to find new teachers and extend her knowledge further. After the Grove cane Beigarth, a famed norn smith. He gladly took Ceara under his wing, seeing her genius and potential. For a year, she trained under him, his best student. Then, much to his dismay, she left, feeling she had learned all he could offer about what she wanted to know. She moved south, going to study under iron legion gladium and demolitionist Asagai. Asagai was an old charr, and it took some convincing on Ceara's end, but she eventually took the sylvari in and taught her about gunsmithing and artillery. And after two years, Ceara moved on again, this time heading for Rata Sum and its colleges. 
The asura of Rata Sum did Not like Ceara. She had to fight to be allowed to study at the colleges. She won in the end, being admitted into the college of Dynamics. Within a year, she finished the course work, and, feeling like she was finally getting somewhere, she applied again, this time getting admitted to Statics. Two years and two colleges down, at the top of her class both times, Scarlet still wanted more. The Arcane council was curious now if she could keep this streak up, so they let her enter Synergetics. This was what she had been looking for, and she got deep into her studies, taking her time. The Arcane council was unimpressed with her work at best. While not driven from the colleges, she found herself being walked off and looked down on more and more, so she sought other sources. These other sources, both of knowledge and support, came from the inquest, and it wasn't long before she fell in deep. It didn't last, however. When the krewe she was working with ran into trouble, she was abandoned as a scapegoat, and thrown out of the asuran colleges. She wandered on her own for a while, taking the time to study alchemy with the michotl hylek, but mostly keeping to herself. Until Omadd found her, pulled her back into his personal research, and, with her help, built Omadd's machine. Once it was finished, Ceara walked in, and Scarlet walked out. 
Sexism in STEM means that people perceived as female are often perceived as knowing or understanding less than they actually do. It's because of this that you'll find young cis male students in STEM classes trying to correct or speak over their female presenting professors. It's why you'll find men at science conferences telling the women presenting for certain topics that they don't seem to understand the topic they're covering or grasp the basics that well, and then recommending or referencing books and research papers written by these women. It means that women will often be overlooked for internships, research positions, and grants. And that is the sort of thing Scarlet faced as a young woman trying to learn everything she could. She had to work for the apprenticeships she could get, and with Beigarth, despite how highly he thought of her, she had to work harder to prove she was ready for more each step of the way. Finding anyone to teach her at all among the charr was a struggle, until an older woman took her in. And no one in Rata Sum took her seriously. 
There was more than just the fact that Scarlet was a woman at play with Rata Sum though. As stated, STEM has a bad sexism problem. But that's not all. STEM isn't just mostly men, but also mostly white men, and as such, the fields have a bit of a racism problem as well. Personally, I can only speak so much to this as I myself am white, have never faced racism, and never will face racism. I do know that the intelligence, skill, and effort of people of color goes largely unacknowledged. They will be denied the same opportunities and respect that their white peers receive, and their work and contributions will be ignored, exploited, and stolen. 
Racism in Tyria isn't the same as it is in the real world, though it is still present there, and prevalent. And it is something Scarlet has to face and struggle with repeatedly as a sylvari. The sylvari are young and new to Tyria. Because of this, the other prominent groups all tend to think of sylvari as innocent, ignorant, and overly naive. The asura are especially bad about this. They already think of themselves as the smartest of Tyria's inhabitants, above everyone else. And when they first encounter the sylvari, the asura refuse to believe this new group could even be sentient. So, when 11 year old Ceara shows up at the colleges, the Arcane Council and the asura in general doubt she could possibly understand asuran studies. She's a sylvari, after all, and just a girl on top of that. There's surely no way she could keep up. 
So when this young sylvari girl finishes at the top of her class in just a year, not once but twice, the Arcane council is intrigued. They don't respect her. They don't hold her work in high esteem. But they do want to know if this is some sort of fluke or if she can do it again. So she's admitted into the third and final college, and when she gets caught up in her studies, genuinely interested and invested in what she's learning and wanting to take her time to take it all in, the Council is disappointed. Never mind that Scarlet has already done what no other non-asura has. She took too long doing what she loved, learning, so the Council dismisses her, and dismisses her hard work. Her theories are looked down upon and ignored, and she is left with only support from Omadd, who can use her and her theories for his own gain, and the inquest. Omadd and the inquest make her feel valued and respected. The inquest let's her try anything she wants, it lets her really explore the fields of study she's most drawn to. The inquest makes sure to profit off her hard work and, when it comes down to it, the inquest leaves her to take the fall for everything. It's easy, after all, to pin the blame on someone already so looked down on by the society she's in. Scarlet is kicked out of the colleges and the city. She loses her access to information, her belongings, and even her own research and findings. All her hard work, taken from her because the inquest was more than glad to use a sylvari. 
And then of course, there's Omadd. He was glad to have Scarlet as a lab assistant, and endlessly fascinated by and supportive of her work. So once she's gone from Rata Sum, he leaves too, taking her research and starting on his own personal project. He gets stuck, he seeks Scarlet out, and he convinces her to help him again. Once Scarlet is back on board, the project goes smoothly and the two construct Omadd's Machine. Omadd's. Despite being built off Scarlet's theories and research, despite her being integral to the construction of this machine, it's Omadd's and it carries his name. Funny how that happens, isn't it? And once the machine is up and running, he thinks Scarlet should test it first. Who knows what could happen in there, better to leave it up to the assistant to try it out, and frame it as her getting the honor of the first try. As we all know, it goes poorly. Scarlet learns so much more, all the knowledge she had been seeking for over a decade, but in return, the seeds of Mordremoth are planted in her mind and slowly take over, destroying her. 
Now Scarlet, who has been used and devalued and disrespected and infantilized every step of the way, her whole life, is going to start tearing down the things that held her back for so long. She just needs a plan, and with the help of a certain sleeping dragon, one begins to form. 
There's something I glossed over earlier that is so important to note, and that's how Scarlet was treated in the Grove. Now, it's been stated explicitly by Scott McGough, a narrative designer for the fame, that Scarlet emerged with lacking empathy. Low empathy doesn't make Scarlet, or anyone, a bad person. It's sometimes a symptom of autism, as well as some personality disorders, and it does affect how Scarlet is treated. As an autistic person myself, Scarlet very much reads as autistic to me, between low empathy, a one track mind, and an intense special interest in the universe and its mechanics. She has a hard time connecting with others, is easily bored by subjects that don't relate back to her special interest, can focus intently on and get caught up in her work, and doesn't really get social graces or expectations. Regardless of any diagnosis she would have if she existed in our world, Scarlet is treated differently due to her low empathy, a trait she cannot help about herself. 
From the moment she emerges in the Grove, she is treated differently. She is talked down to. Her desire to take in her first sights and how it overwhelms her is dismissed as overconfidence and rudeness. Her own brother, barely older than her, talks like he knows so much more than her. Scarlet is an outsider among her own people. How does it feel to have low empathy among a race connected to each other deeply through empathy? Probably not great. Her studies in the Grove are limited, she is treated as rude and prideful for wanting to be independent and needing space. Rather than being accommodated, rather than being understood, Scarlet is infantilized, dismissed, and disregarded. She isn't neurotypical. She was born different. She's punished for it. 
When she emerges from Omadd's Machine, made from her own hard work and creativity, Scarlet Briar is a young woman who has frequently been overlooked and rarely understood. All these thoughts and ideas, all this passion, and the only people who have ever even seemed to understand her have used and betrayed her so thoroughly. Scarlet Briar has always had to look out for and take care of herself, as a woman, as a sylvari, as someone who is neurodivergent and is in a field that doesn't respect a single aspect of her identity. The world won't accommodate her and the world won't take her seriously. So why shouldn't she show the world what she can do? Why not force everyone to recognize her for who she is? Why not give in just a little to that voice that has been calling to her in her nightmares since she left the machine? After all, it promises power and recognition and a sense of belonging. 
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pagingevilspawn · 4 years ago
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Thanks for getting back to me so quickly! I’m the one that asked about the fic recs ☺️ could you please do a fic where jolex have a cute tickle fight with all the fluff in the world?? Thank you 🙏🏼
oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up
this took so long to fulfill like holy crap. I’m so sorry about that. I had to improvise a bit, because jolex is so not the tickling kind of couple and much more of a ‘slap dat booty’ kinda pair you know? But hey, i don’t think that anyone is complaining about jolex babies, right? 
again, thank you all SO MUCH for 100 followers! i still can’t believe how crazy that is! this is super fluffy so yeah, i hope you enjoy it! also, tickle scenes are so much harder to write than i expected...
Alex Karev peeled his bloody surgical gloves off with a relaxed sigh, taking off his gown and tossing it into the bin while simultaneously telling a resident to finish closing up for him. When he gets back to the scrub room he leans against the sink, hands taking hold of the sturdy metal, closing his eyes for a minute because it feels like he can finally breathe. 
His surgery had gone on for seven hours. The kid on the table crashed twice and had lost so much blood at one point he didn’t think the boy was going to make it. Luckily, thanks to skilled hands, surprisingly helpful residents, and Meredith Grey, nine year old Mike Harper was going to be okay. He removes his scrub cap from his head, tucking it into his pants and running a hand through his hair before turning on the faucet and putting his hands under the water, scrubbing off with the bar. 
He shakes his hands dry, little water droplets flying here and there before exiting the room, traveling down the brightly lit halls of the surgical floors until he reaches the elevator. He clicks the button for the ground floor, where the parents are waiting. From there it was routine procedure. He tells the couple that their kid is gonna be alright, they cry tears of joy, they thank him, they ask when they can see their son, he informs them that they’re closing up right now, so he should be relocated to the PICU soon, and they thank him again before sitting back down. 
Alex makes his evening rounds on patients, goofing and joking with them until he’s done and can finally head home. He’d been on call for the past sixteen hours, and all he really wants to do is go home and see his girls.
Unfortunately, he learned from the nurses that Jo was pulled into an emergency surgery a few hours earlier, and had yet to finish, so he didn’t know how long it would be until she was done. He changes out of his scrubs and into his regular clothes, bidding a short goodbye to Meredith, who laid sprawled out on the attendings lounge couch, grumbling that she was trying to sleep and he was making too much noise to allow her to do so.
Adjusting his old, ratty jacket on his shoulders, he slips his phone, wallet, and keys into his pocket, making his way up to the daycare where the littlest Karev was waiting. The worker, Patricia gives him a warm smile, sliding the sign out sheet across the counter. 
“Hey Doctor Karev! Picking up I'm assuming?” she gestures towards his attire, making him nod in response.
“Yeah. I know Jo usually finishes first on Fridays, but she got called in at the last minute.” he says, which earns him an understanding chuckle. 
“Well, I’ll be right out. She was just taking a brief nap, but don’t worry, she’s only been down for about fifteen minutes or so.” she reassures him.  
He nods, shoving his hands in his jeans, pulling out his phone and checking the time. 7:23 pm. It was getting closer to his daughter’s bedtime, so it would make sense that she would start to be getting tired. Alex smiles at his lockscreen, a picture of him, Jo, and their little girl at her two year old birthday party a few months ago. Jo had gone all out, decorating their yard with extravagant streamers, decorative backdrops, and a huge bouncy house. In the picture that stared back at him, Jo and their freshly two year old toddler were both wearing pink, Jo’s in the form of a sheer blouse, and their daughter’s in a frilly dress that Jo spent way more money than she should’ve on. Alex matched, wearing a pink tie and white button down. He had refused immensely at first, but after much pleading from the tiny girl, he gave in. Because what kind of father could say no to puppy dog eyes?
“Daddy!” he sees the little bundle of blue run towards him, causing him to sweep down and pull her into his arms, bunching the thick fabric she was wearing. 
“KK!” he exclaims, matching her enthusiasm, taking the backpack from Patricia, giving a silent nod to her as a way to say both ‘thank you’ and ‘goodnight’.   
His daughter bounced in his arms as they made their way through the door, asking to be let down a few seconds later. Donned in a Cinderella dress up gown and purple converse, Katrina Karev started to race down the hallway in all her glory, the mini ponytail that Jo had done that morning swinging from side to side as she prompted Alex to come catch her. He lets out a small laugh, jogging to catch up to her before she can potentially get in the way of nurses coming in and out of rooms, scooping her up again, making her let out a loud squeal and turn into a fit of giggles. 
“C’mon Kitty-Kat, we gotta go home.” he places her on the ground, holding her tiny hand in his. “No running. What have Mommy and I told you?”
Katrina sighs, puffing out her lips dramatically. “No running in hossal.” she grumbles. She had trouble pronouncing words that had a sharp sound to them, like ‘p’, ‘t’, and ‘j’, but both Alex and Jo found it quite adorable.  
“That’s right. Because Mommy and Daddy’s friends are working really hard to help everyone, and we don’t want to get in their way, right Kat?” he reminds her of the rules, because as much as both he and Jo wished that they could say that their child was perfectly well behaved, she wasn’t. It was simply what having a kid was like. He’d never met a child who listened to every word their parent’s said, followed every rule, and never talked back. And despite what so many different television programs liked to show, it was completely normal for kids to be that way, no matter how crazy it drove the adults. 
Kat murmurs in response, taking on her Dad’s grumpy persona. She wanted to run! She’d been inside of daycare with Scout all day, playing with blocks and crayons, which meant that she was stuck sitting. She wasn’t allowed to play tag in the circle room, no matter how much she asked Miss Lynn.
The duo makes their way to Alex’s car, unlocking it before lifting her up and strapping Katrina into her carseat, brushing back a couple strands of hair that had fallen in her face. He slides his way into his drivers side, revving up the car when Kat speaks from the back. 
“Music Daddy, music!” she cheers, a crooked grin across her face as she bounces around in her seat. 
Alex lets out a breath. As much as he loved his daughter, listening to the same exact Disney princess songs over and over were less than enjoyable. So far this week, he’d heard Let It Go twelve times, You're Welcome ten, and Be Our Guest seven, and those were just the most popular ones. He begrudgingly picks up his phone and puts on Into the Unknown, thankful that this was only his second time hearing it in the last couple of days. He swore that if Kat asked him to listen to Dyawne Johnson singing that damn song one more he was going to hurl himself out of the car. 
Little hums come from the backseat during certain parts of the song, and when the chorus plays through the car he mentally prepares himself for the yells that were to come. Poor Kat couldn’t sing, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. What kind of monster tells his two year old daughter that she sounded like a dying cat? Katrina Karev was good at a lot of things, (math, spelling, and playing dress-up just to name a few) singing just wasn’t one of them. 
With a more than relieved sigh he pulls into the driveway, turning off the car, and therefore the music. Whatever tiredness the toddler was feeling before had gone down the drain, so he knew it would be a while before he would be able to get her to bed. Kat unbuckles herself, getting out of the car and playing hopscotch with the homemade chalk version she and Jo made on the walkway up to the house’s door. She hops from one foot to the other, and Alex had never been more grateful for the fact that she had a good sense of balance. The last thing he wanted was Jo to come home to a bloody kneed Kat and have to explain to her that she fell while doing hopscotch. Honestly, he didn’t even think kids played that game anymore, but when Jo pulled out the sidewalk chalk a few days prior and started drawing, Kat was immediately hooked, and used every opportunity she could to hop across the little squares. Jo laughed when she saw how entranced the girl was, telling Alex that she had been the same way when she was a bit older, and the only thing that got her through some of the tougher houses was when she would go down the road and create a hopscotch game of her own. It became such a comfort in fact, that the tradition continued until she was a teenager. She told him that it would only seem right to share that little bit of joy from her childhood with her daughter.  
They make their way up the steps and Alex unlocks the door, flipping on the light switch as soon as it swings open. Chilly air greets them, since the house hadn’t been in use since earlier that day, and the temperature had been in the low fifties the past week in Seattle. He lets Kat toddle up the stairs, walking over to the thermostat that sat the hallway and cranking it up, knowing that if there was one thing his wife liked coming home to more than her family, it was her family in a warm and toasty house. 
“KK, you hungry?” he calls from the kitchen, being able to faintly hear footsteps padding around upstairs. He winces when he hears something thud to the ground, but assumes it was either Kat or her backpack. 
“Yeah!” the girl cheers from upstairs, causing Alex to chuckle and pull out some box mac and cheese from the cupboard. Kat had been a particularly picky eater lately, much to her parent’s annoyance, and had acquired a taste for a very limited amount of foods. Thankfully, she still liked mac and cheese, which was one of the few things both he and Jo could cook. Alex had gotten significantly better at cooking over the past year or so, but Jo was just as helpless as she was when she was in high school. Either way, both of them preferred takeout, but that wasn’t always an option when they had a two year old they had to take care of. 
“I’m making mac and cheese, change out of your clothes, put your jammies on, clean up your room, and it should be done by the time you are.” he calls up the steps, taking Kat heard him when a groan is what he received in response. Kat was all Jo in the fact that she was incredibly sassy, and not to mention stubborn. She was fine with changing into her pajamas, but she hated cleaning up her room. The way she saw it, it was like one big painting, with all of her toys and books scattered around, but to her parents, it looked like a tornado had come and hit her bedroom. No matter how many times the two of them put everything away, a couple days later Kat’s room only seemed to have gotten messier. Maybe they could blame it on the terrible twos, except rather than having her act out behavior wise, it was a complete destruction to her room. 
He pours the water into the pot, waiting for it to boil before adding the noodles. He pulls out his phone, skimming through emails and texts while the noodles cook, noticing a text from Jo that says that she just got off and was now heading home. 
Once the noodles were done, he pours in the cheese packet, followed by the milk and butter. He felt his mouth water, hunger from the day finally catching up to him. He was grateful that the box was large and Kat was so young, so that meant he could steal some of her dinner, and thankfully still have enough left over for Jo if she wanted some too. The last thing he had to eat was a small snack before his surgery hours ago. When the food finally came together, he turns off the stove, picking out a pink plastic bowl from the cabinet for Kat and a regular glass one for him. It was kind of funny how much their cupboards changed once they had their daughter. Half of what they owned was plastic and princess themed, cheap little things bought from places like the ninety-nine cent store. They quickly realized that the printed patterned bowls and cups from dollar stores worked just as well as the ten dollar four pack they purchased. Plastic spoons littered the drawers rather than just metal, little stars and hearts on the end of them different than tiny, intricate designs that they had gotten used to, since after their honeymoon they realized that one of the gifts they were registered for was real, fancy silverware. He liked those plastic spoons much more though. After all, the smile Kat got on her face when she asked for a princess spoon or fork never failed to melt his heart. 
Just as he placed Kat’s bowl on the island counter, the little girl comes bumbling down the stairs, dressed in her favorite Cinderella nightgown and stuffed monkey clutched in her hand. She practically runs to her stool, making grabby hands so Alex knew she needed to be picked up. He does so, placing her in the seat before she digs into her food, smiling as if it was the best mac and cheese she’s ever tasted. She shovels the food into her mouth, getting it all over her face, finishing it even quicker than Alex, all while talking about her day in daycare in only a way a parent would be able to understand. 
He laughs to himself, wetting a paper towel and wiping off her face, which proves to be a struggle because Kat couldn’t stop giggling. “Go put on some TV, I’ll clean up in here and we’ll watch something ‘till Mama gets home.” he ruffles her hair, messing up her ponytail, and Kat wastes no time before scurrying off the chair and dashing into the living room, climbing up on the couch and turning on the television, an old episode rerun of Max and Ruby playing. 
Alex finishes up in the kitchen, washing the bowls before putting them in the dishwater and starting it, since it was now a full load. He walks up the stairs to his and Jo’s room, throwing on a pair of pajama pants and a shirt before settling down on the couch, pulling his daughter close to him. Kat immediately snuggles into his side, taking a tiny fist and bawling it into his shirt, something she’d been doing since she was a baby. (Katrina would always be a baby in his eyes, it didn't matter how old she got.) 
Around halfway through the episode, he feels the little hand unclench his shirt, fingers start to violently attack his neck in strokes. He lets out a laugh, looking towards Kat, “What are you doing silly girl?” he grins. 
“Tickling you Daddy!” she cheers, continuing to try to get a laugh off of him. 
He opens his mouth dramatically, eyes widening as he takes in her delighted giggles. “Oh, Kitty-Kat, you don’t know what you’ve just done,” he sighs. Kat stops, looking up at her dad, confused. 
“You’ve unleashed,” he meets her eyes, breaking out into a wide smile, “the tickle monster!” he pulls her towards his tickling her feet, sides, and neck all at once, the little girl's loud laughs filling the air. 
“No tickle monster daddy!” she squeals, squirming around, trying to stop the attack on her sides, laughs echoing off the empty house. 
At that moment, Alex makes eye contact with a grinning Jo, who was just stepping through the front door. At the sound of her daughter’s laughs she felt wide awake, and she knew that by Alex’s mischievous look she could join in on the fun. She silently heads toward the couch, plopping down and starting her own fingers assault on the little one’s sides. 
“Mommy help!” Kat squirms once she sees her mom, looking directly at her with eyes that were a mirror image of her own. 
Jo pulls the girl into her arms, planting a big kiss on her head, leaving behind remnants of her cherry chapstick. “Mommy’ll save you KK,” she grins, only to bite her lip and pull away. 
“But Mommy is a tickle monster too!” she flips Kat around with ease, bringing her little feet up to her face and blowing raspberries on them like she did when she was still a baby. 
“No no Mommy no!” the girl giggles, thrashing around in a failed attempt to wiggle out of her grasp. Just to her luck, her dad decides to join in again, giggles turning into loud laughs that came from her little belly, a grin so wide neither one of them had ever seen it before. 
“I’m gonna eat you!” Jo presses little kisses all up the girls, legs acting as if they were bites, making her laugh even more in the process. Jo gnaws at the skin, making pops with her lips and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Mmm,” she hums face scrunching up playfully, “delicious” she grins, the sound of her daughter giggles filling her ears until it was all she could hear.  
Alex and Jo share a look. This was one of those moments, the ones where all they wanted to do was just pause time and stay in this one freeze-frame for the rest of their lives. It was moments like these they wanted Kat to stay this way forever, this perfect age and unconditional love she had for everything. 
But for now, these pure, unfiltered moments of happiness were all they would need.
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UC 51.03 - London Business School vs Hertford, Oxford
Since it was introduced at the 1988 Olympics, every single Gold Medal in the Women’s Team event in the Archery has gone to South Korea. Including yesterday’s win that’s nine straight victories, and their period of unparalleled dominance continues. The men’s team have also won six of the nine they have contested, and a mixed team won the first staging of that event in Tokyo too. Adding their success in the individual events, South Korea have won 26 gold medals, and 42 in total, in the 43 archery events which have been thus far staged at the Olympic Games. 
As Twitter’s own @tarequelaskar pointed out in the brilliant article which alerted me to this story, this is a perfect example of specialisation, an economic concept whereby countries or companies focus intensely on one particular aspect of a given industry and come to serve that niche in such a specialised fashion that they become the ultimate experts and nigh-on irreplaceable. This is done in government and business by providing companies with incentives to specialise, and supporting those who succeed at it. 
With respect to Korean archery, similar forces are at play. There are a bunch of professional teams and leagues in the country, giving archers financial stability while they focus on their training, something not as common across the world. Said training involves such things as practicing in live baseball stadiums and replicas of the Olympic venues, to mimic first the atmosphere and then the conditions that will be present on the day of the actual tournament. 
This philosophy of marginal gains - the same system used by Team Sky and Chris Froome to win multiple Tour De Frances on the trot - puts their preparation miles ahead of the competition, which goes some way to explaining their dominance. It is not the only reason. Before the fine-tuning of the elite shooters comes the discovery of the promising young ones, and the inspiring nature of past success (along with a historic national love of the sport) helps to create a virtuous cycle which give Korea a far larger number of archers to choose from than any other country. This greater choice means that there is a greater chance of finding the next Gold medallists.
Making the argument that professional footballers are at a higher level than other elite sportspeople, Michael Cox used this same argument in a recent article for The Athletic. To summarise, he stated that because there are a far higher number of people who wish to become professional footballers, that must mean that the ones who do make it are at a higher standard than those who make it in other sports. Initially, I was drawn in by the pure maths of this point, but having thought about it some more I’m no longer sure to what extent I agree. 
Now, the fact that hundreds of millions more people play football than rugby, or basketball, will certainly confer some level of “eliteness”, but only up to a certain point. Because football has been so popular for so long, the general standard of the play, relative to what it used to be, has had longer to improve. In the same way that if you transplanted a 100m runner from the Olympic final in the early 20th century to now they probably wouldn’t even qualify for the games, a footballer from the 80s would stand less of a chance of making it were they playing today. Many other sports don’t have that level of natural progression, afforded by decades of technical and tactical advancement - at least not globally. 
But the numbers argument only goes so far, as can be demonstrated by the Korean archers. Yes, there are more archers in Korea than anywhere else, relatively, giving them a higher chance of uncovering those with a natural aptitude, but the reason behind their bow and arrow dynasty is the specialisation. The hyper-detailed level of training and focus which allows them to be the best they can possible be. 
Now, archery is unique in that there is a theoretical maximum score (I understand that this is to some extent arbitrary, and related to the rules of the game as defined by some human being, semi-randomly, but it works in terms of this argument, because it gives a percentage score of how good the archers are based on the agreed-upon parameters of the sport), which, at the Olympics, is 720. The Olympic record is 700 (held by Korean Kim Woo-jin, giving an implied “eliteness level” of 97.2%. 
The best player in the history of football (don’t @ me) is Lionel Messi, and few would doubt that he operates at or above that level of perfection in his sport. But I also don’t think you could doubt that Novak Djokovic, or Serena Williams in her pomp, were similarly magnificent at tennis. Cyclists on the Tour De France put their bodies through more in three weeks than most people endure in a decade, and have every aspect of their training and diet strictly controlled so as to bring them as close to perfection as possible. There will certainly be a higher number of these elite performers in football, because there are a higher number of paying jobs for said elite performers, and because more people attempt to become elite performers, but I don’t think that it follows on from that that they are better at their sport than other elite athletes, all of whom have undergone years and years of specialised training to get them where they are.
Does any of this matter, in terms of how each sport should be enjoyed? Probably not, but its interesting to think about, and kind of awe-inspiring to try and appreciate just how good those at the top of their respective games are. And if there is some discrepancy in the level of eliteness between the different sports it doesn’t detract from the fact that they would handily dispatch any civilian challengers without breaking a sweat. The joy comes from watching people who are good at stuff doing that stuff - and, as evidenced by the crowds which gather for non-league football, it doesn’t matter whether or not they are at the absolute pinnacle of said stuff. They’re still going to be much better than the rest of us. 
Competitive quizzing is different from the activities previously mentioned in that any normal person can have a guess at pretty much any question, with a chance that they’ll get it right. What sets the contestants apart on shows like University Challenge is the speed of their recall under pressure - the quickness of their knowledge as well as the knowledge itself. But there are plenty of armchair quizzers who think they could wipe the floor on the show, so just how good are the actual contestants? (Compared to an elite footballer or archer on an imaginary scale that accounts for relative skill in all disciplines?). I don’t know (and in case you hadn’t noticed by now I’m just fascinated by people who are really good at anything, and wanted to share some of that fascination with you all), but I’ll try and have a go at answering it anyway. 
So, the World Quizzing Championships have been dominated by British and Irish quizzers since its inception in 2003, with 16 of the 18 winners coming from either Britain or the Republic of Ireland (who have four wins courtesy of The Egghead Pat Gibson). This, in my mind, makes this neck of the woods comparable to South Korean archery. It is a hotbed of talent, and the infrastructure is in place to encourage and aid talent maximalisation. Indeed, if you scroll down the list of highest ranking players at the WQC in any given year you can see a significant cohort of UC alums, so clearly there are a number of elite quizzers who have passed through the show. 
This specialisation can be seen in microcosm with the preponderance of top-level quizzers produced by Oxford and Cambridge, who both have a long-standing culture of competitive quizzing far beyond other Universities. The debate is there to be had on the fairness of each institution having so many teams, but clearly they produce enough elite players to compete with far bigger Unis when entering as (sometimes tiny) colleges. 
In conclusion, I think it is pretty obvious that UC is a breeding ground for world-class quizzers, and though no one has won a World title straight off the bat after appearing on the show, there are top-50 and top 100 finishes abound, which is still greatly impressive, and helps to give an idea of just how good these students really are. 
Hoping to justify the 1000 words I’ve just written about their exceptional talents are two teams from the London Business School and Hertford College, Oxford. The Oxford side have never made it beyond the second round, but LBS reached the semi-finals in 2006, their only previous appearance on the show. Anyway, there is quite literally no time for me to recite the rules; here’s your first starter for ten... 
Paxman mentions that LBS were in the show in 2006, but doesn’t mention that they reached the semi final, which is lazy imo. A bunch of them are studying for MBAs, which makes sense. He doesn’t mention Hertford’s previous appearances either, but that’s more understandable.
Hertford’s Hitchens takes the first starter with Kennedy, and the Oxonians added a full set of bonuses on words made up by authors - including a couple of educated guesses. LBS hit back with the next question, but can only manage one bonus on famous scientists. One of the two they miss is Rosalind Franklin, and Paxman teases them for not spotting an apparently obvious clue within the question.
The first picture round is on national emblems, and LBS are first to recognise that of Vietnam for the starter. They don’t know Laos or Belarus, but do know that Mozambique has a machine gun on its one. Butterworth then jumps the gun with argon on the next starter, giving his answer just as Paxman says it in the question. Butterworth makes up for it with the music starter, recognising Fat Boy Slim before anyone else, and LBS know Primal Scream and Wu Tang Clan too. They’re still fifty points behind though, and will need a big second half to turn things around.
This task gets more difficult for them, as Hitchens takes another starter. Lloyd adds a second in a row for Oxford and they are nearly one hundred points clear. LBS really need to get some points on the board, and Ruess duly obliges, knowing that there is a massive sculpture of a spider called Maman, which sounds needlessly scary, to the extent that I’m not even going to google it.
The comeback is ended before its even begun as Oswald takes a starter for Hertford, which gives them the picture bonuses - the starter having been dropped by both teams. Lloyd produces another excellent guess of Reuben, demonstrating how useful it is to have vague knowledge as well as specific knowledge. This is one of probably five questions he has answered in a throwaway manner, but which turned out to be correct. 
By this point LBS seem to have accepted defeat. Ruess takes another starter, but there is little to no urgency on the bonus questions. They’re right, granted, to have none, they have no chance of winning, but if they gave it a go they might scrape a high scoring loser spot. Ruess is the only one who seems bothered, and bags himself ten more points. They have an amusing discussion about methods of poisoning in Agatha Christie novels (’it was used as a curry ingredient?’, Ruess wondered aloud, trying to figure out which spices could be poisonous, before Butterworth pointed out that it wasn’t something commonly used as a curry ingredient, prompting respectful mirth from the audience) on the bonuses, but still languish miles behind. 
Lloyd grabs the last starter of the night for Hertford, who win by eighty at the gong.
Final Score: London Business School 100 - 180 Hertford, Oxford
At the end, Paxman mentions Hertford’s stellar guesswork, which means I wasn’t chatting nonsense (at least on that front, the jury is out on the rest of it), and says that they’ve done a really good job. Incredibly effusive praise for a score of 180. He really is going soft in his old age.
Phew, that was a long one. If you made it through the intro you deserve a prize. And that prize is that you get to come back next week for the next episode of this blog!! Woop woop! 
And if this wasn’t quite enough UC content for you then you can subscribe for extra blogs on my Patreon, which features Retro Reviews from the 2015/16 series of the show. Ta x
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