#though also when we hit the heavier stuff

[myrleius]

what remains when the sound fades — bakugo k.

timeskip bakugo k. x patient fem!reader│wc: 3.8k

synopsis: Bakugo’s almost deaf now. But at a hospital he never meant to care about, with a girl who falls asleep without warning, he learns that maybe silence isn’t the end.

cw/tags: fluff, angst, hard of hearing!bakugo, made-up illness for fem!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers

The doors slid open with a sound Bakugo couldn’t quite hear anymore. He just felt the pressure shift in the air, a faint vibration under his skin. 

He stepped into the hospital lobby anyway, hands buried deep in his hoodie pockets, shoulders drawn tight beneath the fabric.

No appointment today. No injuries or bruises to patch up either. But somehow, this visit felt heavier than the others combined.

His boots tapped against the polished tile—at least, he assumed they did. These days, sound was more of a memory. His hearing aids buzzed softly in his ears, letting in pieces of the world like light through cracked glass. Voices blurred, distant and muddled. Sharp one moment, swallowed the next.

He still wore them though. Most days. When he remembered.

He stopped by the reception desk. The nurse glanced up, clearly recognizing him. Pro-hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite wasn’t exactly subtle, even in civilian clothes. 

He didn’t bother speaking.

Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly wrinkled sticky note—bright yellow with a tiny inked flower blooming in the bottom corner. Yn had given it to him months ago, back when he'd muttered—half ashamed—how much he hated asking people to repeat themselves.

The message was simple:

Hi. I’m hard of hearing. Can you write things down for me, please?

He held up his phone next, showing a photo of yn—caught mid-laugh, paint smudged on her wrist, eyes shining with something quiet and untouchable.

The nurse smiled gently and scribbled something on a notepad, turning it toward him.

She’s on the third floor. Art event today.

He nodded his thanks and made for the elevator, the paper note folded carefully back into his pocket.

As he waited for the elevator doors to open, he let himself replay the conversation from this morning.

“I’m losing my hearing,” he’d said, blunt and brief. “It’s almost gone.”

He expected disbelief. Or pity. Or those strained silences people always gave when they didn’t know what to say.

But it didn’t come.

Kirishima just slammed a hand on his shoulder, grin bright and unwavering. “Damn, man. That’s rough. But you’re still gonna kick ass, right? You’ll figure it out. And if you need backup, we’ve got you.”

Kaminari blinked, then leaned forward, curiosity overtaking any hesitation. “Wait, so does this mean you won’t hear me when I’m being annoying? Sweet—uh, I mean, not sweet, but—can I learn sign language just to mess with you?” He grinned, dodging the half-hearted swipe Bakugo took at him. 

Sero snorted. “Dude, you already ignore us half the time. What’s the difference?” When Bakugo glared, Sero held up his hands. “Kidding, kidding. But seriously, if you ever need us to repeat shit or write stuff down, just say the word.”

Mina didn’t miss a beat. “Okay, new rule. We’re all taking sign language classes. Also, don’t think this gets you out of game night. We will mime everything if we have to.”

And Deku—the one who’s known him longest, who’s seen him at his worst and his best—didn’t even flinch. His eyes remained steady, analyzing, before he nodded once. “You’ve already been adjusting, haven’t you? The way you’ve been positioning yourself in fights, relying more on visuals…” Of course he noticed. “You’ll still be one of the best. And… if you want help finding resources, or training workarounds, I’m here.”

No one stiffened. No one treated him like he was broken. And that hit harder than he’d thought it would.

And now, standing alone in the quiet of the hospital, he wasn’t sure if it made the weight in his chest had eased or fucking doubled.

The elevator dinged.

He stepped inside, pressed the third-floor button, and leaned back against the wall. He wasn’t here for anything urgent. Wasn’t even sure what he planned to say.

He just… needed to see yn.

They’d met a few months ago when his hearing started going to shit. She was always here, a familiar figure in the waiting rooms and hallways, worn hospital bracelets like second skin. At first, she was just a girl with the tired eyes and bright laugh who somehow made the place feel less suffocating. 

But she was more than that. 

She understood, really understood, what it felt like when your body turned against you.

He hadn’t expected to find someone like that in the middle of this nightmare.

Yet there she was. Her presence, gentle and steady, made it easier to breathe. She didn’t pry. Didn’t talk just to fill the silence. And she knew exactly how to sit with this kind of slow pain that didn’t have clean answers.

But when he needed it most, she always seemed to know what to say to help him hold his shit together.

The doors open, scattering his thoughts like startled birds. Before he could gather them again, his feet carried him out.

The third floor was loud.

Not in sound—Bakugo barely caught snippets of laughter and the thuds of feet—but in color, in motion. The hallway was lined with drop cloths and plastic sheets taped across the walls and floor. Furniture had been pushed back. Paint buckets sat open, and kids ran by waving paintbrushes like flags.

It smelled like wet acrylics and masking tape.

Bakugo didn’t need to ask who was responsible.

“Hey! No paint in anyone’s eyeballs, got it?” came a voice from further down the hall. “We want windows, not lawsuits!”

He turned the corner just in time to see yn balancing a tray of mini palettes, swerving between kids and elderly patients like it was a practiced dance. A brush was tucked behind her ear. Paint dotted her sleeves. Her smile was effortless.

And then her eyes met his.

She brightened instantly. “Bakugo,” she called, walking over. “You don’t have an appointment today, right?”

Bakugo shook his head and signed stiffly, fingers sharp with feigned disinterest, “Had extra time. Figured I’d see what you’re up to.”

Yn didn’t miss a beat. She was fluent by now, between her own years in this hospital and months of chatting with him.

“Oh, so you missed me,” she signed back with a cheeky grin, handing him a clean smock. “Got it.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t refuse it. He slipped it on, its sleeves straining around his biceps, while surveying the windows. Every one of them, long panes stretching the whole corridor, was already a riot of color—splashes of sky blue, cartoon suns, stick figure heroes, one ambitious mural of a dragon and a bakery somehow mashed together.

“What the hell is all this?” he asked aloud this time.

Yn adjusted her stance, instinctively positioning herself so he could see her lips, just in case he hadn’t caught her words. They’d practice this enough that she didn’t even think about it now. 

“Window canvases,” she said. “They’re replacing the glass soon, so I asked if we could paint on them instead of just throwing them out. Figured it’d be good fun for the others. Plus, my friend’s gallery agreed to exhibit them, so they get recycled and displayed. Cool, right?”

Bakugo folded his arms. “Let me guess—you bribed the staff, didn’t you?”

“Hey! I got permission from the hospital director,” she said, wiggling her fingers. “Now quit stalling and help me out.”

They spent the next hour darting between stations. Yn played the ringleader—passing out fresh brushes, hyping up shaky stick figures like they were masterpieces. Bakugo kept a closer eye, steadying ladders, pulling kids away from spilled paint, reminding a particularly rowdy pair of teens not to paint each other’s faces again.

It was loud. It was uncoordinated. It was a mess.

And it was… nice.

He wasn’t giving orders or chasing down villains, but he could still do something here. Still be useful.

One of the older patients tugged on his sleeve, holding up a brush. She pointed to the top corner of her window, then mimed her arm not reaching.

Bakugo didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed a chair, climbed up, and filled in the empty corner with simple strokes of yellow.

When he stepped back down, the woman gave him a toothy grin and signed, slowly but clearly, “Thank you.”

He blinked. Then nodded, almost sheepishly.

Yn watched it all with a warm, quiet smile.

By the time the last of the patients shuffled off to their rooms, the floor had fallen quiet.

The sunset bled through the painted windows in long, glowing streaks. Everything was bathed in amber. Where once there was sterile white, there was now a wash of color—skies, forests, tiny heroes flying beside flowers, scrawled messages of hope and names written with confidence.

Bakugo stood at the center of it all, arms folded, head tilted back. Even the ceiling had caught a few stray splashes. The low hum of his hearing aids filled the silence, a steady static he’d grown used to. Tonight, it felt less like noise, and more like… presence.

Yn drifted to his side, her shoulder nudging his.

“Think they’ll let me do this again next year?” she asked, voice light and teasing.

Bakugo huffed. “Not if they see what you did to the walls.”

“They’re covered. Mostly.” She gestured to the plastic sheets still clinging to the walls, though tiny paint splatters had seeped into the creases. “Besides, they're repainting the whole floor anyway. I just… sped things along.”

He shook his head, a low laugh slipping out despite himself. He glanced over. Her hair clung to her forehead, cheeks flushed, fingertips stained in streaks of color. Despite the exhaustion weighing on her shoulders, triumph sparkled in her eyes.

“You did good,” he signed. Hands slower than usual, but sure.

She didn’t hesitate to sign back. “You helped.”

He looked away at that. His hand twitched at his side before he shoved it into his pocket.

A moment passed.

Then another.

“I… told them,” he muttered, more to the empty hallway than to her. Fuck if he knew why. Maybe just to prove it mattered. “The other heroes. Told ‘em I can’t hear for shit anymore.”

Yn didn’t react. She just waited, giving him space to let it out.

Bakugo stared out at the windows, jaw tight. “I didn’t think I’d be able to say it. But I did. Told ‘em I’m still learning sign, still working on reading lips. But I’d still… probably need someone to help interpret if my aids crap out. Might miss shit or mess up.”

A pause. And his throat worked again. “I didn’t expect them to—to take it so well. Just an, ‘Okay. We’ll adjust.’ They didn’t even look at me like I was broken.”

Yn’s hand settled on his shoulder, the touch feather-light. “Because you’re not.”

“But I’m slower now. I can’t do the same field work. Can’t hear civilians shouting. That used to fuck with me so much.” He exhaled sharply. “But they said they’d work with me. That they’d adapt or whatever.”

“Then that’s their call,” she said, shrugging. “They know what they’re signing up for. And they asked you to stay anyway.”

His gaze flicked to hers. Something tight and uncertain lingered beneath the surface.

“You ever think people say that shit just to be nice?” he asked, voice scraping low. “Like, they believe it now, but deep down, they still think you’re… a liability?”

Yn paused, thoughtful. Then tilted her head. “Would you?”

Bakugo blinked. His mouth twitched. “Fuck no.”

“Then why assume they would?” she asked, sliding her hand down his arm to catch his hand. “They’re not stupid, Bakugo. They’re pros. They know what a liability looks like. I don’t think they’d risk the safety of people on someone they didn’t believe in.”

His brow furrowed, mind scrambling to find the flaw in her logic. There had to be one.

As if sensing his spiral, she cut through with quiet certainty. “You’re not weak, Bakugo.” The word landed deliberately, dismantling his unspoken fear. “You’re just changing. That doesn’t diminish who you’ve always been.”

Bakugo was silent. He let her words sit, feeling its weight. Then, slowly, his hand turned, fingers lacing with hers.

“I just… I get scared,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “Not about being deaf. About being fucking useless.” His thumb brushed her knuckle, an unconscious plea. “I thought it meant I was done. That I couldn’t be a hero anymore.”

“You’re not done. You’re just learning a new way to fight,” she said, her voice was softer but the steel beneath it never wavered. “And if anyone’s stubborn enough to make it work? It’s you.”

She leaned in until their shoulders touched, forcing his gaze up. “Imagine it—first deaf hero in the charts. Kids with hearing loss seeing someone like them up there.” Then her smile widened, teasing again. “Unless… you’re actually considering retirement?”

He snorted, real and unguarded. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Then you’re not done.” Her tone left no room for argument. “Because you get to decide that.”

Her words sat in his chest like a live wire.

Bullshit. 

Heroism was supposed to be hard. He'd welcomed that—the broken ribs, the sleepless nights, the impossible choices. But this wasn't another challenge to overcome. It was a permanent fucking handicap. Deafness wasn’t an enemy he could punch. It was a door slammed in his face.

But.

His hands flexed against his thighs. The same hands that had once sparked with explosions now knew the shape of signs. The same body that had lunged into battle without hesitation now calculated angles, light, vibrations—workarounds.

Was that weakness? Or just another fight?

The hospital hallway stretched too bright, too quiet. He could still see the other heroes’ faces when he’d told them. No flinching. No whispers. Just nods, quick adjustments. They planned to work around it. Like pros. Like equals.

Bakugo slowly felt the warmth of her hand then.

He gritted his teeth. Fuck. A long-buried memory resurfaced—one he’d almost let slip away.

Heroism wasn't about perfection. It was about persistence. About dragging yourself through hell with whatever pieces you still had, just to keep the light in others’ eyes.

A breath shuddered out of him. Fine. Fine. If the world wanted to count him out over something like this, they’d learn the same damn lesson they always did.

Because Katsuki Bakugo didn’t lose. Not to villains. Not to fate.

And definitely not to himself.

He breathed out slowly. His heart beat steady in his chest.

And then, with absolutely no warning, he reached out and ruffled her hair with excessive vigor, fingers combing through the strands just to wreck them completely. 

“The hell?” he asked, voice full of forced insult, but his touch was gentle. “Since when did you get smart enough to say shit like that?”

Yn squeaked, batting his hand away. But she didn’t move far. Because she felt it, too—the way his hand hovered for a moment too long. Shaking, not from strain, but from everything it took to admit he was scared.

She could’ve called it out. Could’ve gone soft. Instead, she smirked and poked his cheek. “Says the guy who needed me to spell it out for him,” she fired back.

He scoffed, but his hand lingered, sliding from her hair to cradle her cheek. His thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone—lighter than his usual rough handling, but just as deliberate. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice dropping to something dangerously close to tender. “Guess I needed that.”

He barely heard it, but he saw her breath hitch.

“Oi.” His squint was all mock-suspicion as his thumb brushed the flush spreading across her skin. “The hell's this, huh? Sunburn?”

“Shut up.” She tried to twist away, but his grip shifted to her chin, holding her in place.

“Ain't wearing makeup,” he mused, leaning closer. “So unless you're running a fever—”

“I swear to god—”

“—must be me.” The smirk in his voice was audible. “Damn. That's embarrassing for you.”

She huffed, but didn’t pull back this time. Instead, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, right over his chest.

The light from the painted windows spilled across her face just then, making her eyes look like they were glowing. Blue paint smudged her cheek, a messy contrast to the red flush beneath it. And her lips, damn it, they looked so soft. So inviting.

He’d imagined this. More than he’d ever admit. Would she go all soft and sigh, feeling warm like her hugs or laughter? Or would it be all teeth and fire, like when she’d snap a comeback with that infuriating grin, leaving him itching for more? God, either would ruin him.

Bakugo leaned closer, their noses brushing. “Hey… I’ve been thinking—”

And then her body tipped.

His reflexes moved before his thoughts did.

He caught her easily, arms looping around her middle as her knees buckled. Her head dropped lightly against his chest, her weight sudden but familiar.

“Shit,” he muttered, adjusting her in his hold.

Her breathing was soft, even. Completely out like a light.

Right. Her sleep spells.

She’d explained them the first time it happened—some kind of neurological disorder with no warning signs or real triggers. One moment she was awake, the next she was out cold, collapsing like a puppet with cut strings. She’d joked that her brain had a faulty “off switch.” Nothing dangerous, just… inconvenient. That’s what she called it.

But it still scared the hell out of him every time.

“Ruined the moment, idiot,” he mumbled, brushing her hair back.

She didn’t respond, obviously. Just nuzzled unconsciously into his chest like she always did when this happened.

Bakugo sighed and looked around.

The hallway was empty. Lit gold. Quiet

He stood there for a long minute, holding her steady, his heartbeat slow in his ears. Her weight wasn’t heavy. Just… warm.

This wasn’t the kind of saving he was used to.

No villains. No collapsing buildings. No flash of cameras or crowd roaring after.

But maybe… that was okay.

Maybe saving people wasn’t always about being the strongest. Sometimes, it was holding someone when they fell. Watching over a hallway of kids so they could paint suns. Catching a brush before it hit the floor.

He looked back at the art. 

At the handprints. 

The names. 

The hope.

Bakugo exhaled.

Yeah. He could still be a hero like this, too.

When yn woke up, the first thing she noticed was the dim lighting. It was night outside, the curtains pulled but still faintly glowing at the edges. The overhead light cast a soft halo around the room—just enough to see by.

The second thing she noticed was the dry taste in her mouth and the dull ache in her back, which meant she’d been out for a while.

The third thing she noticed was the very broad figure slouched in the chair beside her bed, arms crossed and chin tucked low against his chest.

Bakugo.

He was fast asleep. His hearing aids were out and tucked into a little case on the table beside her water cup. His hair was messy, a smear of green paint still streaking one forearm like a leftover memory of the day.

Yn blinked at him, a slow warmth blooming in her chest.

“You could’ve gone home, dummy,” she whispered.

He didn’t respond. Of course not.

She pushed herself up slowly, limbs stiff but cooperative.

The motion must’ve stirred him, because Bakugo’s eyes cracked open a second later. Red, sleep-heavy, a little bleary.

He blinked, squinted at her. Then straightened with a quiet grunt, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re up.”

“Was I out long?” she rasped, reaching for the water.

He grabbed his hearing aids and slid them in. “Five hours.”

“Mm. That’s not bad.”

He gave her a flat look. “You missed dinner.”

She smiled, unbothered. “Worried I wouldn’t get my pudding cup?”

“I ate your pudding cup.”

She laughed. “You thief.”

“It was melting,” he said, smug.

She looked at him for a long moment.

The curve of his shoulders. The stupidly hot smirk. The stubborn warmth in the way he always stayed, even when it wasn’t convenient.

Then, she held her arms out with all the drama she could summon. “Pity hug. Now, you monster.”

He gave her a look—half amused, half exasperated—but stood up anyway and leaned down to hug her, arms looping around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her hands found the back of his neck, fingers toying lightly with the tips of his hair.

He didn’t pull away. Just rested his forehead against hers, eyes half-lidded and soft.

“Did I miss anything?” she murmured.

“Mm. Something pretty major,” he murmured back. “Life-changing, even.”

She chuckled. “Can I still experience it? Or was it a one-time thing?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “It’s a lifetime thing.”

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t perfect. There was too much grinning, too many half-laughs between presses of lips. But it was good. Warm. A tiny pocket of peace carved out of everything else.

And then, it changed. Just a little. He leaned in again, his hand sliding lower, and lips parting with unsubtle intent.

Yn made a sound of protest, half chuckle, half warning, and pressed a hand to his chest.

“Hey,” she said, breathless. “We are in a hospital.”

“No one’s watching,” he muttered, cocky. “I’ll be quick.”

“Bakugo,” she warned, trying to look stern.

His grin went lopsided. “Be glad I waited ‘til you were awake. I was tempted earlier.”

She groaned. “Oh my god.”

But she was still tangled in him, still laughing, and he looked unbearably pleased with himself.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment—gentle, polite, and clearly a nurse’s way of saying wrap it up, Romeo.

Bakugo sighed dramatically. “There goes our chance…”

“Text me when you get home, all right?” she said, hand still on his chest, ignoring his whining.

He leaned in, kissing her forehead. “I can smuggle you out, you know.”

She flicked his arm. “Out. Go. Before they revoke your visitation rights.”

He laughed and headed toward the door, pausing just before he stepped through.

“Oh,” he added, glancing back over his shoulder. “By the way. You’re my girlfriend now. Just letting you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh. That’s it? No asking?”

He shrugged. “I figured the kissing made it pretty clear.”

She tried not to smile, but failed. “Fine. But you’re buying me pudding next time.”

“Noted.”

And then he was gone, the door clicking softly behind him.

Yn lay back against the pillows and let the silence settle.

Officially dating a half-deaf, overly-confident exasperating pro hero with a pudding problem.

Not exactly how she thought the day would end.

But it felt good. Solid. Like something she could lean into without fear of breaking it.

And even if he was a thief… At least he’d finally stolen something she’d wanted him to all along.

[96wonulicious]

more than enough - c.hs

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

It was another casual day at practice, training for their 10th anniversary comeback in May. Of course these practices don't come without a little teasing here and there, that's just the usual stuff you got to deal with within the group. Today was no different, except todays main target was Vernon.

"Do you guys even like, kiss?" Jeonghan asked his younger friend. "Even share the same bed? With the way you sleep it wouldn't be weird for her to sleep somewhere else to be honest.." someone added. Usually this wasn't something Vernon cared about. He knew you loved him and knew he loved you even more.

Lately though, certain weverse messages about you have gotten to him. Fans talking about the lack of affection in your relationship, speculating your break up and all. Aside from this being incredibly disrespectful and annoying, it also affected Vernon a lot. Was he really THAT "cold" towards you? Do you know that he loves you more than himself? Do you think the same way fans and the boys do? All this teasing today made him even more insecure about this than he already was.

"Can I ask you something real quick?" Vernon asked his best friend Seungkwan after finishing their dance practice. "Sure, what is it? Is everything alright?" Seungkwan asked a bit concerned.

"Yeah, it's just...YN. I'm scared that she'll leave me.." he said, staring into his reflection in the big mirror. "Leave you? Now why the hell would she do that?" Seungkwan said shocked. He wasn't just Vernons best friend but also yours, and he clearly remembers every single occasion where you would only talk about Vernon and your love for him. Hearing this out of his best friends mouth now made absolutely no sense to him.

"Ever since people found out about us, they've been saying that she'll leave me once she sees how exhausting it is to be with someone 'emotionally inexpressive'. I just can't bear to lose her. She's the love of my life, my world..my everything" Vernon said, his voice shaking. He felt like the walls were closing in on him. "I had this really bad nightmare a few nights ago. I was with YN, and she suddenly said she needed to talk to me..And what she said was, was.." he stopped, his voice cracking and tears welling up in his eyes. "I can't even say it oh god" he said. This is the first time in years something has hit him so bad it made him cry out of fear.

Seungkwan knew what Vernon was talking about. He tried his best to comfort him, to calm him down and talk some encouraging words into him. "You know, why don't you just talk to her? We both know that you can tell her ANYTHING, especially you, her boyfriend. I can guarantee that she loves you more than everything in this universe, so please do me, her and yourself a favour and just talk to her."

Vernon knew what he had to do. The only way to fix this is to talk to you, no matter how uncomfortable it was going to be for him. He knows you will always listen to what he has to say, so why wouldn't you this time? "Should I drive you home?" Seungkwan asked. "I'm good thank you, I'll walk. I'll have more time to think about how I'll tell her.." Vernon answered, already heading out the door.

He was imagining every way the conversation could go, his legs just automatically taking him home to you. When his keys slid into the keyhole and the doorknob started to turn in his hand, his heart started pounding in his chest. He was scared of this conversation, scared that you'll think of him as "weak" or "insecure".

"Babe? I'm home" he shouted, hoping for an answer from you. "In the kitchen!!" you happily answered. You were happy your boyfriend finally came home. He took his shoes off, placed his backpack next to them and made his way into the kitchen. His palms were sweaty and his breathing got heavier. You greeted him with your usual big hug and a kiss, smiling at him. "How was practi-..Why are your eyes so red? Are you okay?" you asked full of concern.

With that, he just broke down in your arms. You didn't quite know how to react, figuring the best thing to do right now was to just hold him and let him cry. It broke your heart, seeing your boyfriend like this. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch" you suggested and led him to the living room. You sat down and put an arm around him, pulling him close again. His head was resting on your chest, soft sniffles here and there and holding onto you like you'd disappear once he let go.

"What's wrong love? Please talk to me.." you said while gently running your fingers through his hair. "Do I make you feel unloved?" he asked, his red eyes staring right into yours. "What? Where is this coming from??!!" you asked in shock. "Well, fans have been saying some mean things on weverse about you breaking up with me, and you being tired of my lack of affection in our relationship. The boys also said some things today that made me.." he said, tears rolling down his cheeks again. "..made me think maybe you'd be happier with someone else. Someone who won't shy away from kissing you in public, someone who will do literally anything for people to know you're his."

You couldn't believe your ears. Your hand instinctively pulled his head back to your chest, your head resting on top of his. You took a deep breath, before speaking up.

"You are way more than enough Vernon. You make me the happiest girl alive, everything is better when I'm with you and I could never ever in any world feel unloved by you. First of all they know NOTHING about what we do in private, so how would they know you're not actually hogging me every morning because you want to stay in bed with me? Secondly, they're just jealous. It's so obvious, the fans because I'm dating literally the most handsome, gorgeous, fantastic, amazing, BEST artist ever!!"

"Oh and the boys are just jealous 'cuz they get ZERO bitches" you said and rolled your eyes. This made Vernon laugh a little and you were happy you could cheer your boyfriend up a bit.

"Thank you for accepting me the way I am. I'm so so unbelievably happy to be with you my dear, I couldn't imagine a better life.." he said before kissing you. You spent the rest of the night lounging on the couch, just holding eachother while thinking about how lucky you guys got to have eachother.

[nylqnder]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 | 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

summary: after radio silence from you, will worries that you've forgotten your pregame tradition before his nhl debut.

warnings: little tiny bit of angst in the beginning, kissing, gross fluff

word count: 1.04k

notes: this almost went a totally different (and heartwrenching) way. also i know this is unrealistic but i don’t care!

The air crackled with anticipation as the Sharks’ first game of the season loomed closer, the arena filling with a sea of excited fans eager to witness the dawn of a new era in Bay Area hockey. The buzzing energy seeped through the concrete walls, even reaching the locker room where Will sat, shoulders hunched, elbows resting on his knees. His gaze stayed glued to the scuffed floor beneath him, though his mind was somewhere else entirely. He was thirty minutes away from making his NHL debut, the dream he’d worked toward his whole life. But instead of feeling exhilarated, his stomach was twisted into a million knots, and it was all because of you.

He ran a shaky hand through his unruly hair before picking up his phone for what felt like the hundredth time, staring at the screen with an expression that bordered on desperation. Still no messages. His thumb hovered over your contact, but he stopped himself from calling. You’d always been the first to text him before every game, sending a sweet “good luck” that never failed to make him smile, no matter how many times he read it. It was your thing, something he’d come to rely on, especially on game days. Today, of all days, you hadn’t said a word.

Will swallowed hard, trying to drown out the unsettling thud of disappointment. He clenched his jaw, tossing his phone into the compartment above his head with a bit more force than necessary.

“Yo, Will, what’s with the long face?” Macklin asked, dropping into the spot beside him, his voice cutting through the low hum of pregame chatter. “You’re about to live the dream, man. Smile a little.”

Will exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “It’s nothing. Just… personal stuff.”

Macklin leaned in, his expression both amused and concerned. “Personal stuff? Come on, dude, you’re acting like you lost your puppy or something. Spill.”

“It’s just…” Will hesitated, debating whether he should even say it out loud. Finally, he gave in. “My girlfriend, she’s always texted me before every game. It’s kind of our thing. But today—nothing. And it’s driving me insane, man.”

“Dude, you’re trippin’ over a text?” Macklin shook his head with a grin. “She’s probably just busy or caught up with something. Doesn’t mean she forgot about you.”

Will nodded, though Macklin’s words did little to ease the uneasy feeling lodged in his chest. He wanted to believe that was all it was, but the silence from you felt heavier today, almost like a warning sign he couldn’t ignore.

The minutes ticked by, each one dragging slower than the last, and soon enough, Coach Warsofsky’s booming voice echoed through the room, calling everyone to attention. “Alright, listen up! First game of the season, boys. This is where we show everyone what Sharks hockey is all about. But before we hit the ice, we’ve got a special guest who is going to announce our starting lineup for tonight.”

Will barely registered the words, his mind still tangled up in thoughts of you, until he heard a voice that made him freeze.

“Hey, everyone. I’m super excited to be here tonight.”

His head snapped up so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. There you were, standing just inside the doorway, looking slightly nervous but glowing under the fluorescent lights. It took him a second to realize he wasn’t dreaming, and when your eyes met his, all the tension drained out of his body. For the first time all day, he felt like he could finally breathe.

You cleared your throat, glancing down at the paper in your hands as you began to read out the names of Will’s teammates. With each name, the excitement in your voice grew, until you reached the last one. “And finally, starting at center, number 2…Will Smith!”

The room erupted into cheers, but Will didn’t hear any of it. He was already halfway across the room, ignoring the playful jeers from his teammates. He reached you in three long strides, scooping you up in his arms and lifting you off the ground. “You’re here,” he breathed, burying his face in your neck as if he needed to make sure you were real. “You actually came.”

You laughed, the sound like music to his ears. “Of course, I did. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Before he could think twice, he kissed you, right there in front of his entire team, not caring one bit about the whistles and hoots echoing around the room. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You had me worried, you know that?” he murmured. Will took your hand in his, leading you out into the hall where you could talk in private, away from his teasing teammates.

“Had to keep you on your toes,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “Besides, I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” he chuckled, taking you back in his arms, keeping them wrapped around you as if afraid you might disappear. “I thought you forgot about me.”

“Never,” you said softly, fingers threading through his curls. “Good luck, Will. You’re going to be amazing.”

His heart swelled at your words, the weight that had been pressing down on him all day finally lifting. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You have no idea how much this means.”

He kissed you again, this time slower, savouring the warmth of your lips and the way you melted against him. His hands moved to your face, cupping your cheeks, feeling the way your lips curved into a smile against his. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “I’ll make you proud out there.”

“You already have,” you replied, giving him one last peck on the lips. “You should probably go back now or else you’re gonna miss your first game.”

Will nodded, a confident smile spreading across his face. With one final squeeze of your hand, he turned and jogged back into the locker room, feeling lighter than he had all day. The game hadn’t even started yet, but he already knew this was going to be a night he’d never forget.

[creativitysloyalservant]

i have decided to break my lack of original posting on this blog to bring you my Thoughts on Rot in Paradise. because i played it as soon as i got up this morning and i have scoured for some opinions after finishing it, and now i have my own!!

(and also i posted this on twitter but twitter has such a Shit wordcount that i'm also posting my things here with More Detail)

so! spoilers under the cut, please go and play the game if you haven't. it takes literally an hour (it only took nearly 2 hours for me because i like voice acting by myself and exploring every nook and cranny) and it's also free. so maybe come back into the tag once you're done.

okay, so i noticed quite a number of people being confused and disappointed on the lack of an explanation for the monster. it's brought up in the story as the central thing driving the plot, but it's never explained on what "she" is, why she's compelling people to eat a ton of fish-related food or hell, metal, and why this doesn't impact June at all.

but you know what I think?

i think that that's the point. the focus of rot in paradise isn't supposed to be on the monster.

yeah, it's the thing that pushes the plot along besides June and the gang going on vacation in this island. it's what's causing that uneasiness from the moment that guy grabs June's arm at the drinks, to the sheer unnerving feeling of witnessing people going to the ocean to get Raptured basically. i know i personally felt a chill when i saw that one dude literally eating chains and the other hauling an anchor, as if they're trying to make themselves heavier so they get taken by whatever She is.

but that's not the main point! the main conflict is about June and her friends.

as people have pointed out, this game is about toxic friendships and relationships! it's foreshadowed in the conversation that June has with the gang about her cousin (which i will also get into), and it carries it through the way her friends are horribly warped by this ocean Creature. June goes on a silly little vacation trip with her friends only for them to become so so different from themselves that they lash out at her and even hit her in McCoy's case.

but she still sticks it out with them. through the whole game, even despite their verbal abuse, despite being slapped, despite them being people that she can hardly recognise. she stays with them for the whole game, up until the point where you are given the two options at the very end. and she could still stay with them.

because they're still her friends. she cares about them even if they still hurt her. from the way June still tells Carmen to tell June if she needs anything after Carmen literally tells her to shut up and leave, the way June worries about Vonnie eating seafood even though she continues to stuff herself despite being implied to either hate or make an active choice to not eat seafood, to the way June still trudges out to sea screaming for McCoy to come back to the shore as he wades further in even after he slapped her until her nose bled.

it mirrors the conversation about her cousin, the reason for why June was looking forward to the vacation. that while she did comfort her cousin through all of it, June clearly says that "they were dickheads, and she should have ditched them a long time ago".

but it's funny, isn't it? that June, an outsider to her cousin's friend group, easily sees the pain that her cousin's friends are causing her, and immediately calls it as it is. that her cousin should have left the second they hurt her.

and yet now, when her friends hurt her, even though this was a quick and sudden change that happened in a span of three days, June still sticks around. her friends are dickheads right now, and we can see that in the way they interact with June, but she still stays.

because they're her friends. and how could she just leave them like this if it's something that's causing them to be this way?

so no, i don't think the monster is supposed to be the main picture. we don't need to know what it looks like, or why it needs to do this to the islanders, or how it's even doing it in the first place. it adds to the scariness of the game, as per the Spooktober Game Jam, sure, but that's not the point. might be a bit disappointing to some, but that's not the point.

the point is about June, and the choice that she needs to make at the end of the game.

it's a choice on whether she chooses to be pulled deeper into the tides and be with the friends who hurt her and will continue to hurt her in this way,

or to leave them to their fates, whether deserved or not, and resurface to a world where she's alone without her friends.

and even though the first choice hurts much more in the long run, doesn't the second hurt even more in the moment? knowing that you're alone at the end of all of this?

even if it is the right choice, i'm sure the pain must be unbearable in the moment.

[martiandmichelle]

Now it's settled.

I had reported a few weeks ago that I was gaining weight to fit what Roxy and I saw for a character I'm playing in an adult video series - a matronly woman. I usually set my upper weight limit at 150 pounds (from my usual 135) but decided to go a little higher, maybe 155.

Being very partial to my tits, I liked how I looked and felt at 155 as my boobs had increased to an X cup from the usual W. I let my weight drift up to 160 and became a Y cup. I LOVED it. But, being in entertainment - sexual entertainment at that - I wanted to know what others thought. The ladies here at Mountain Media supported me though some worried about what the extra weight was doing to me health-wise. The guys here at the studio were, not surprisingly, all for it, but the real test was what the Board of Directors (BOD) thought. Dana brought it up to them and, by a surprisingly lopsided vote (13-2) they went all in on my new weight. (Note: We now have 15 board members to improve investments.) There was one last test: medical.

Just after Hurricane Helene, the BOD added on on-site physician to "protect their investments." The physician's name is Shannon, a very lovely and sexy lady in her late 50's. She came to us by recommendation of one of the board member's wife. Shannon had recently retired from practice; her late husband was very wealthy and when he passed Shannon herself became wealthy on top of her successful practice (a cardiologist). Shannon went over my records and gave me a thorough physical, lab tests, and a few x-rays and MRI studies and declared me fit to handle the weight. She worked with Dana (a women's health therapist prior to being our onsite manager), Gail (a nutritionist before becoming a model and our house manager), and Gina (a nurse practioner) to set up healthy weight gain and maintenance.

I'm all set to go to 170 and see how I feel - and how big my tits become!

Then, this morning, I was on a phone call with our CEO and Board Chairman, Bas, and with Dana. I try to stay out of the business side of this thing, but they wanted to talk to me. The October earnings statement was finalized and, in terms of income, October blew away all other months. (It was also the best "bottom line" month but after adjusting income for expenses the difference was still the best yet even if spending was way up on construction and hiring.) Willow and Emily continue to do very well and Maria seems to hit a home run every time - so congratulations to them! But, and I'm embarrassed to say, my earnings were, well, way above expectations. "It's the bigger tits," Bas mused. (I give Roxy a lot of credit for some great scripts, Lin kudos for her fantastic camera work, and the rest of the support team for all they do.) "Maybe," Bas said. But in his typical Dutch no bullshit manor he repeated. "It's the tits."

So get used to seeing a heavier, larger-busted Marti. You'll still see some of my more glamorous photos from the last year and some of the older stuff, too. Hope you all agree that bigger tits is the way to go for me?!?

Marti

[child-of-the-cosmos]

Part 1. > Here. Part 2. > Here. Part 3. > Here.

You stare at it in silence. Your whole body buzzing- and your thoughts going haywire, with fight or flight mode kicking into overdrive. Problem was. You didn't have a fight or a flight. No, you had the bonus option... freeze. And freeze is exactly what you did.

Your mind faintly thought back to words you heard in one of those cheap movies you watched once.

"If you don't move, it can't see you."

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, you could feel the vibration resonating within you. White eyes stared into yours.

It could definitely see you.

It's cracked eye flickered, just a bit. Thankfully, that gave you something to focus on as you tried to stand up. The air between you two still.

It sat there, quietly looking at you as you did. And If it wasn't for the slight twitching of it's hands, you would have thought it had turned back off.

You were a good two steps away from it, about to take another, when it started talking again. Making you flinch.

"W-wait...." It's hand started to move towards you, but then it stopped, pulling it back to where It was before.

"You didn't answer my question." It finally said, barely above a whisper.

There's a beat of silence between you two... then two, three....

"You're in the storage room, behind the theater." You told it.

It says nothing. It's cracked eye flickering again, this time getting so dim you thought it'd go out completely.

You were beginning to feel bad for it.

Then it laughs. A hollow, quiet laugh, static overlapping with it's voice.

"A theater... huh?"

You stood there, awkwardly looking for something to say. You were not the best conversationalist. Even worse when it came to heavier topics.

"Uh, yeah... sorry for- you know." You gestured between your head and it's chest. You looked stupid, you knew. You also felt stupid. How are you this bad at talking to it? You couldn't find anything comforting to say for the life of you. And you were trying.

It pauses. Glancing at you, your uniform, and then the place around you.

"It's dirty... must have been a while." It says, looking at the piles of boxes littering the place.

You feel the urge to look back down at your shoes again. How could a still face convey this much... emotion?

"A while since what?" You force out, you had a feeling that the answer would be bad, but it was all your poor mind could think of to say.

"Since we were last on." It says simply. Getting quieter at the end. It looks at you, then. "You're... not supposed to be here."

You flinch. It hit right on the mark. "Uh... right. Don't- Don't tell anybody, please. I uhm..." You trail off. What were you supposed to say? Oh gee, yeah, I was actually looking for stuff about you- like you were some sort of secret mystery, and then actually accidentally found you. Yeah, no.

"A curious one." It laughs, a little more up beat than before. "We would've appreciated you at the daycare."

So it was real. The daycare- you mean, yeah duh, considering you found the single, probably the most important bot that had something to do with it... but still.

"Not sure how," you huff humorously, "I'm basically trespassing now. I think. Pretty sure."

It stiffly nods. Something was wrong with its joints. Or what were supposed to be it's joints? You were trying not to look at it too hard.

"Oh, you most definitely are!" It tells you, and you cringe inwardly a little. "But, positive curiosity is greatly appreciated. And since you helped us, it counts as a positive!" It's voice was still filled with a bit of static, but it was obvious it was much more upbeat than a few seconds ago. Which was good. You applauded yourself in your head for correctly steering the conversation.

You laugh. You were starting to understand why the kids had liked it so much, regardless of how it looked.

"Trespassing is still bad, though." You tease, just a little. Your shoulders were relaxed now, and your mind was much clearer. You were still scared a bit, sure... but it didn't look like something that would hurt you. And it seemed nice enough.

"That's true! But I must thank you anyway, who knows how long they would have left us."

Oh. That was sad. Very. The silence from you must had spoken volumes, because it started talking again.

"It's okay, y'know. Things like this are to be expected, we were defective." It tells you, still trying to be upbeat, but it couldn't hide how quiet it was getting again. That ticked off you for some reason.

You folded your arms, really looking at it this time. Sure it looked a little... worn down, but it wasn't defective.

"You look fine to me." You say with a slight huff.

At this point, you were beyond sad for it. And the poor thing looked like a kicked puppy when you said what you did. You didn't mean to sound so... angry. But you were! Just not at it! It was wrong. It felt wrong.

"N-no, I mean..." It starts, trying to move a bit towards you, but then stops itself. Again. "It's just... it's okay. Really."

No, it wasn't. You told yourself, but thought it'd be better than to voice that opinion right now.

"I'm not mad at you, by the way." You suddenly clarify. "It's just unbelievable to think someone did this to you."

"You don't know what we've done. What were capable of." It blurts out. It's voice was tense, but empty? It was hard to tell the tone over the static that had somehow increased.

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to find out." You stubbornly tell it, as you plop down on the ground where you were standing. It fliches, but then watches you. Waiting for something.

Your eyes don't move from it's, unwavering this time. You wasn't sure if you were being fueled by rage, or stubbornness, but it kept you still. Eyes steady. You were waiting, too.

It looks off first. "You should go back." It says quietly, static subsiding a little.

You frown, thinking. "Okay, but first-" You suddenly stand back up, going over to a pile of boxes you had went through before.

It's eyes lock back on you, and you feel it staring at you while you dig through them, a little more haphazardly than before.

"What are you doing?" You hear it ask you from where it was. It still hadn't moved much, and you had realized early on that it was because it couldn't.

"Looking for something." You told it, moving to the next box. You knew you saw them somewhere... which box was it?

It doesn't say anything after that, and you keep looking. Finally, you find it.

"Ah ha!" You exclaim quietly, pulling it out the box.

"What did you-"

*jingle*

You turn around, facing it in triumph. You were probably grinning like a maniac, but you didn't care.

"These are yours, right?" You ask it, holding a single red ribbon with a bell in your hand.

"...y-yes-"

You immediately start walking over to it, looking at the tattered ribbon tied around its wrist. There wasn't even one it it's other hand, but you knew that there had to be one there at some point.

You bend down next to it. "Is it okay if I touch you, just to change the ribbon out?"

It looks at you, while you wait for a response.

"You should worry about yourself more, do you just walk up like this to any stranger you meet?" It tells you.

You grin. "Maybe. My name's Y/n, what's yours?"

It looks off somewhere. "I used to be called a lot of names... sun, sunny, sundrop."

You think. "Then is... Sun, okay? Can I call you that?"

"...sure." it says, and you barely catch it from how quiet it had spoken. It was almost inaudible. But you caught it, regardless.

"Okay, Sun! It's very nice to meet you! Now, we're no longer stranger strangers... but like strangers-who-have-introduced-themelves strangers." You ramble, smiling as you did so.

"That's still a stranger, Y/n." It tells you. It sounded a little... angry. You pause, smiling a little less, getting ready to apologize.

"Sorry." It- they, say before you do.

Sun turns towards you, somehow managing to look a little gentler than they did before. "Sorry..." they tell you again. "I was... if you could-" They start, fumbling over their words as they look at the ribbon in your hands.

"The ribbon?" You offer, smile returning.

"That would be greatly appreciated." Sun says, voice sounding less... tense, now.

You nod before moving to untie the old ribbon, gently fiddling with the knot until it came loose. Sun didn't move an inch while you did so. The old ribbon was much shorter the the new one, so it was easy to pull away.

You just as gently set it down on the ground next to you two, as you began tying the new ribbon to replace the old one.

The bell on it jingled a bit as you tied it in a final knot. It was then you realized, that the one Sun had on before didn't have one.

You glance at them once you're finished. They were already looking at you.

You glance at their other wrist, the one obviously missing the red ribbon. Your eyes flick to theirs for another moment before you dig through your pockets, pulling out the ribbon you had stuffed in there before, from when you had first went through the boxes.

"Oh, a magic trick! How nice!" You could tell they were just messing with you. "What else are you hiding, I wonder!"

You laugh. "Well, a magician ever tells." You decide to jest with them, anything to help lift their mood. Even a little.

"Ah- That's true. I would know."

You look at them. "You can do magic?" You ask them, curious.

Sun's eyes somehow squint? That caught you off guard, but you recover quickly.

"A magician never tells."

Oh, wow. You burst out laughing. Shaking your head as you did so. Once you sober up a bit, you look at them, holding out the other ribbon. "Is it okay....?"

"Of course. We're strangers-who-have-introduced-themselves now, after all." They say, bringing up what you had said before.

You nod, softly smiling as you got to work on their other hand. "We are."

Once you were done with both ribbons, you moved back a little to make sure it was tied right. Sun was looking at them, too. There was a softer silence between the two of you now. You didn't say anything, feeling like Sun needed that quiet moment for some reason.

"Thank you." He finally says. "I mean it."

You smile at him, "it's nothing, really-"

"It's not nothing."

Oh, okay. You find yourself looking at your shoes for what felt like the hundredth time today. Again, you can see why the children liked them so much. Sun was more human than some of the humans you've personally met. The fact that they were just left here was really getting to you now. More than ever.

"Okay..." was all you could force out. You felt a little chocked up for some reason, but you refused to show it, keeping your eyes instead on your shoes.

"Okay..." Sun says, and a silence falls upon you both again. Both of you needed a moment.

And for a moment you both sit, stuck in your own thoughts, in your own emotions. That is, until your phone rings, and you jump.

You quickly fiddle for it in your pocket, looking at the contact. Your heart drops. It was your manager. It had been well over an hour now.

You shoot up to stand, completely missing how Sun fliches at your sudden movement. "I- uhm- oh no." You blurt as you pace waiting for the caller to stop calling. No way you were gonna answer that. But you needed to get back to work, pronto.

"Go." Sun urges. "I'll be fine here."

Will they??? You think to yourself frantically. "Do you like, uhm, need a battery- shoot sorry, a charger or something?" You say looking around the large room. Where would you even find something like that??

Sun chuckles, their hand twitching a little as they tried to wave you off. "I'll be fine until tomorrow."

They look at you, "you'll come back, right?"

You eyes snap to theirs, "Of course???" You say, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because to you, it was.

Sun looks at his hands, watching as they twitch again. "Okay..." They say quietly. "Goodbye for now, then?"

You smile, "Just until tomorrow, I'll be back, promise."

Sun huffs humorously. "I have you know, I take promises very seriously."

You smile back at him. "Then that make two of us."

You wave them goodbye before you quickly run off. You really hoped your manager wouldn't be too mad. Because you'd coming back here tomorrow, no matter what.

[starillusion13]

FRIENDS!? Chapter 20

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

Series ML

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere

Warning: mention of memories (nothing much just go with the flow).

W.C: 4.2k Network: @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

>.<

"why are we here?"

You looked back at Jongho, who was busy taking off his blazer, placing it on the bench and adjusting all your stuff together so that nothing goes missing.

"isn't it obvious, we are at a basketball ground." He said and unbuttoned the sleeves of his white polo shirt and proceeded to folding it. then he glanced over at you, staring at him for more explanation, not clearly getting the point of being at the place.

When he rolled his eyes, you glared at him, "I thought we were here on a business meeting but it ended in the morning and now we are here in the ground. Care to explain?" his eyes trailed on your white flared skirt, ending just below the knee and a light pink top, fitting your body perfectly.

"let's play." He smiled at you cheekily.

The young Jongho flashed across your eyes. The same gummy smile but with a mature and refreshed look. Your favorite smile which you wanted to watch everyday in your way back to the orphanage.

And this made you miss Mrs. Stella so much. Where is she?

The night was alive with a quiet, peaceful stillness as you both made your way to the center of the basketball court. It was late—so late that the usual sounds of the city had faded, leaving only the soft hum of distant traffic and the occasional rustling of trees in the cool breeze. The empty court sat under the soft glow of streetlights, the pavement shining faintly under their feet as they stepped onto it.

You looked around, feeling slightly out of place. "So, this is what we're doing tonight?" You asked, your voice carrying a hint of nervousness. You had never really played basketball before—just watched from the sidelines or seen others play on like him and Yunho and sometimes others when they joined in the game. The ball felt a little foreign in your hands, heavier than you expected, and the hoop seemed impossibly far away.

Jongho flashed you an easy smile, walking ahead and grabbing the basketball from your hands, giving it a few bounces on the pavement. "Trust me," he said with a grin. "It'll be fun. You'll learn in no time."

You let out a skeptical laugh, crossing your arms. "I don't know, I'm pretty hopeless when it comes to sports. I'm also wondering where did you get the ball."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You say that now, but just wait. I'm a good teacher. The waiter I was talking to in the afternoon...he is a trainee in an academy so well he lent me." He dribbled the ball effortlessly, the rhythmic sound of it hitting the ground filling the quiet night air.

You stood at the free-throw line, biting your lip as he tossed the ball back to you. You caught it awkwardly, fumbling slightly before getting a grip. "Okay, so what do I do?"

Jongho walked over to your side, standing close enough that you could feel his presence but not so close that it felt overwhelming. "First thing's first," he said, gently placing his hands on your shoulders to adjust your stance. "Feet shoulder-width apart. You want to be balanced."

you shifted your feet, mimicking his instructions, though it still felt awkward. you held the ball out in front of you, your elbows sticking out too far, and you glanced at him with a hesitant smile. "Like this?"

"Almost," he said, stepping closer and lightly adjusting your arms, bringing your elbows in and showing you how to hold the ball properly. His touch was gentle but firm, and you could feel the warmth of his hand as he guided you. "See? Now you've got control."

The spark inside you was undeniable as if the night felt colder and silent. His presence so close to you never held such tension between you two but tonight it was rising a new feeling, you subtly caught his eyes, the gleam of excitement and happiness in the orbs, he was always this friendly and acted like a child. He actually never grew up. He is still your little teddy bear, whom you befriended back then. Your gummy bear.

You gave him a doubtful look but nodded. "Alright, I think I got it. Now what?"

"Now," he said, stepping back with a smile, "you shoot. Keep your eyes on the hoop, and when you release the ball, just let it roll off your fingertips. It's not about how hard you throw—it's about the technique."

you swallowed, focusing on the hoop as you tried to follow his instructions. It seemed so far away, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were about to make a fool of yourself. But you took a deep breath and threw the ball, watching it soar through the air—completely missing the hoop and bouncing off the backboard with a loud thud.

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "Oh my God. I'm terrible."

Jongho laughed, walking over to pick up the ball. "That wasn't terrible! You've got the right idea. It just takes practice."

"Yeah, practice and maybe a miracle," you muttered, your face still flushed with embarrassment.

He tossed the ball back to you, this time with a more encouraging smile. "Come on, you've got this. You're overthinking it. Just relax and have fun with it."

you looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his expression, and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know what I'm thinking...."

"y/n..."

You cut him off, "Alright, one more try." you took a deep breath, adjusted your stance again, and shot the ball. This time, it hit the rim, bouncing off but much closer than before.

your eyes widened, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. "Did you see that? It almost went in!"

He clapped his hands together, nodding with approval. "Now you're getting it! See, you're not hopeless after all."

you grinned, feeling a small surge of confidence. Maybe you weren't as bad as you thought. And maybe, you could just know a little bit more today what was the situation between you two back then. You continued practicing, with him giving your tips and encouragement between shots. Slowly but surely, you began to get the hang of it, your movements becoming more fluid and natural.

After several more tries, you finally made a basket. The ball swished through the net with a satisfying sound, and you threw her hands up in the air, cheering for herself. "Yes! I did it!"

He laughed, walking over and giving you a playful high-five. "There you go! Told you it wasn't so hard."

you beamed, face flushed with excitement. "Okay, I'll admit, this is kind of fun."

They kept going, shooting around and playing a few simple one-on-one games, though he went easy on you, mostly just showing your different moves and how to dribble. you stumbled a few times, tripping over your own feet as you tried to keep control of the ball, but every time, he was there with a laugh and an encouraging word.

you caught the ball, a smile tugging at your lips despite your frustration. "You really think so?"

Jongho nodded, his expression softening. "Definitely. You're picking it up faster than you realize."

you looked at him for a moment, your heart swelling with a warmth you couldn't quite explain. He made everything seem easier, lighter—like it didn't matter if you messed up because you were just having fun. "Thanks for teaching me," you said quietly, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. "I guess I'm actually enjoying myself."

He smiled, that same warm look in his eyes. "I'm glad. I knew you'd get the hang of it." There was a pause, the air between them feeling different now, softer somehow. "It's more fun when you're not so focused on getting it right all the time."

She chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"how are you, y/n?" he asked quietly, just staring at you straight with a heart full of weary and questions and honestly, he wanted to bubble wrap them all, just so he could keep you with him and protect you from your nightmares.

You might not know but the first day he caught you crying in your sleep in your cabin, he felt those sharp pain all again after meeting you after years. He couldn't see the lost eyes and a scared face looking back at him when you jolt woken up by him. even though he asked you the reason to be like that, deep down he knew the reason. He knew more than you could have visioned. He knew the exact scenary. He knew the cause of it. he knew that he was also a part of it.

You blinked at him, tilting your head, "what do you mean, Jongho?" you cracked a soft smile, "how will I be?"

"are you fine with us? Anything making you uncomfortable? You know you can vent to me anytime. I promise I'll always be waiting for you." He stepped closer, holding your hands in his, staring at them for a moment before meeting your eyes. "I just want a better life for you, where you are genuinely happy."

You held the eye contact, he is the only one with whom you can hold gazes for a long time, without feeling otherwise or shying away. He is that of a comfort zone to you, whom you are scared to lose if something happens between you and them.

You were in relationship with all of them.

Then why did Mingi said he never proposed to you?

Oh...you don't even remember anyone's confession other than Yunho. But others, Wooyoung gave you his words that he would love you more than you could remember your past. Is that even possible? Will you remember them all? Seonghwa already stepped up with his date and you accepted him at the exact place because you felt the need to stay with him. Hongjoong is always keeping a watch on you...as if he is scared that a miss of blink of an eye, you will be gone or something might occur for which he can't forgive himself or ... it would pull you away from him.

Yunho...you need a lot more explanation from him.

Mingi, he was honest with you. Since the first day, you got to know everything from him. the trust you build on them was majorly because of him. he was always explaining you and encouraging you to not be scared of the things which are out of hand because he would hold your hand and guide you through all the darkness of your life. Just like the night you two confessed to each other and kissed.

And, Yeosang...even if you two are close but since the first day you have that itchy feeling with his duality. Is he hiding something that's crucial for you to know? If so...then why?

Lastly, San. He did tell you to give him a chance. Right? You felt secure in his embrace that day. He held you so dearly and softly, feeling secure and comfort and you did fell asleep with a content smile on your face.

"I am happy, Jongho...thanks to all of you to bring back an essence to my life." You smiled at him.

A smile cracked on his face, "why? Were you not happy?"

"uh no...it was literally boring because there was no such things where I would meet my long lost friends who all are apparently my lovers and they waited for me for so long and then arranged a place for me in their office. And now I have everything, ever wanted."

His one hand left yours and quickly, he pressed the palm on your cheek, his eyes scanning your face but there was a flick of sadness in his eyes, "you will stay with me forever. I promise...I'll keep you happy and shield you from all negativity...but y/n..." his thumb caressed your cheek in a feather touch, "we were not couple back then...I never really proposed you...we were really close friends but never like...lovers."

"then why am I remembering that..."

"you were as in together with all of us." He completed your sentence, nodding to himself. "I know...let me be honest with you. There's a lot you don't know but I won't tell you just now. I want you to remember everything and only then I can say and reason with you regarding everything."

"I believe you the most, Jongho. Some of you never made me be sceptical of anything and I do really appreciate it so much. Just don't break my trust ever." You looked up at him, your eyes were shining softly same as the way your smile.

"thank you, y/n. I just want us to be friends forever. Even if I want something more but I wouldn't step forward without your consent." He hugged your body tightly, his chin resting on top of your head and you patted his back tenderly, whispering 'it's okay'. "I am just afraid to lose you from my sight."

"then I'm giving you my consent...go ahead and lock me up in your embrace. Don't let me go, Jongho." You said quietly. Hearing your words, he quickly pulled back slightly to take a look of your face and as soon as you nodded, he dipped his head down, locking his lips with yours just to pull you closer to him. his dream and his passion in one place. He loved playing basketball and he loved you. There was a faint smile into the kiss from both of you. You both noticed each other every day at the ground, just oblivion to each other and after so many years, he is here kissing you at the basketball ground.

"I love you, y/n."

You waited before replying. Your foreheads resting against each other, breathing heavily when you stared into his eyes. There was sincerity and the love for you. He will protect you. They will do as well. They want you. You should hold their hands as well when they are extending it to you. If they did wrong, you should forgive them. You will let them know their fault and in the end, you will stay by their side.

Aren't this what like a friendship?

Maybe a true love.

"I love you too, Jongho."

Just don't leave us again...

They sat there a little while longer, side by side under the stars, the court all to themselves, the night stretching out before them like a secret they were both in on. The game didn't matter anymore; it was just the two of them, lost in the quiet magic of the night, sharing a moment that felt infinite.

>>>><<<<

"Yeosang, we need to talk." Placing the file on his table, you gave him a pointed look. Without asking any questions, he subtly nodded his head and got back to his computer screen.

You waited beside the shelf, tapping your feet till he completed his work because you were determined to talk with him for the matter that was keeping him distant and quiet. No. You are not letting him go away without hearing him. He is always the one who will change his personality according to his mood and if it's something like that then you should really hear him out.

While you were staring at him, Wooyoung entered the door in a very enthusiastic voice, "ah, cupcake. You are here. Let's go to my cabin if you are done with him."

He caught your wrist, but you halted his actions when you held his hand and shook your head, "No...Woo...listen I'm just busy right now and..." glancing at Yeosang, you smiled at Wooyoung, "but I'll be there soon...after lunch...how about that?"

"But you don't seem busy." He raised a brow, "you are just standing here and straight up staring at that weirdo."

"Wooyoung..." you gave him a look to shut up and noticed Yeosang's glare directed at him. You shook your head before pulling the younger one out of the cabin, closing the door behind you two.

"What's up with you? Why are you acting like this?" You crossed your arms after asking the questions to Wooyoung who just rolled his eyes.

"You always stay with him alone most of the times and i hate it sometimes."

"You know he doesn't open up to us often and if he does it's only when we are alone and there's something I want to talk to him about." You said.

He nodded, registering your words, "okay but remember our tomorrow plan should be as planned. No deny and failure."

"Of course, woo. Afterall, im looking forward to your little surprise." You wiggled your brows at him.

"It's a big one. Not a little."

"Of course." You laughed at him.

"And what surprise are we talking about here?" Yunho joined in the conversation. He was passing through the corridor where you both were standing and when you took a notice of him, you smiled at him and quickly accepted the open arms directed to you.

His love and warmth are so precious and memorable. As if all these years you missed it so much.

"That's a secret for her from me." Wooyoung said to Yunho while a faint smile dancing on his lips to see you so comfortable in his friend's arms.

Yunho nodded before looking down at you, rubbing your back when he felt you relaxing in his arms but quickly a smirk appeared on his face mirroring the one on Wooyoung.

"wooyoung, isn't our girl looking too pretty today?" Yunho asked the younger boy and you slowly parted from him to furrow your brows at both of them. Not knowing from where this compliment suddenly came from.

The younger one tilted his head and poked his inner cheek with the tongue, "yeah...too pretty to be left alone."

"What are you two saying?" You furrowed your brows and looking between them. You stepped back from Yunho to read his expression. There's something going on.

Yunho stepped forwards hen you took a step back but when this repeated again, your back hit a girl chest and soon two arms caged you in between, the man in front of you folded his hands and smirked, bending down to your level.

"Come on. Why are you so pretty and attracting us so much in office hours. You are becoming a regular distraction for us. You know it's hard to work when you are roaming around." He said.

You could hear the chuckles of Wooyoung from behind you, he placed a kiss to your cheek, surprising you and suddenly, Yunho placed a finger below your chin to lift your face to meet his eyes.

"Do you agree with what I'm saying? Say it, Pearl." He whispered the words, his breath fanning your lips.

Gulping down the sudden intense heat in your throat, Wooyoung's nose nuzzling in your neck when you spoke up, "it's not true. You are just trying to put the blame on me."

"Is it?" Yunho's whisper and his breath tingling on your lips, you closed your eyes in anticipation. Wooyoung placed a soft kiss just below your earlobe. Your breath heaved and you felt lips pressed on yours.

Wooyoung whispered in your ear, "so you are saying that we are telling lie. Y/n..." he chuckled in your ear, "you are just the same...the one I wanted and the one I still want. Either ways you are mine."

Yunho pecked your lips and cheeks before standing straight, "ours."

"We should not do here...uhm...anyone can come." You said between your shaky breaths.

Wooyoung detached himself from you and turned you around, Yunho stepped closer, stroking your head and both of them looking at you, "why? You want us to continue in our cabin...or maybe in our floor."

Yunho nodded at his friend's words and smirked at you. You hit Wooyoung's chest and glared at both of them, "shut up."

"I suppose you two have meeting in half an hour." Hongjoong's voice bloomed in the corridor from a distance and three of your heads whipped to the direction. You mentally thanked that it's only him and no other staff or employees. There would be more gossips than already exist. You smiled at him when he started walking toward me you, wiggling in Wooyoung's hold, but he didn't budge and told you stay put.

"Hey, Joong...here?" You asked him when he patted your head with a comforting smile.

"Just to check for a file I kept in Mingi's cabin. But I guess here something else is going on." He said and eyed the three of you.

"Why? Want to join?" Wooyoung raised a brow and smirked.

You hoped Hongjoong to scold him or to say something, even Yunho when he supported his friend but to your surprise, Hongjoong smirked and stared at you, locking eyes when he spoke up, "no need. I can have her to myself alone. We spend more time than you two."

Yunho chuckled, "really, y/n?"

They are going to kill you like this. You are so embarrassed. You pushed Wooyoung from you and glared at three of them, "I'll be with Yeosang for now. Maybe the whole day so none of you should dare to come into this cabin or wherever we will be."

With that you ran inside the cabin and closed the door, leaving behind three men laughing at your flustered state.

Aren't the days going well? The type of life they wanted and the things they wished to be, other than those cursed ones.

NEXT

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(open! dm me/ send ask/reply here)

[lolitakirstein]

Sore part 2/3

AN: GODDD WHY DO I WRITE SUCH LONG STUFF. There's just so much I want to put in. Anyway here is part one CW: Smut

I walked into the gym the next evening but it was more like a hobble. I'm more sore today than yesterday. I find Toji throwing punches at the punchbags. The sounds of his fist hitting the bag sound like gunshots and the bared teeth and scowl he's wearing are absolutely deadly.

I approach slowly, not wanting to startle him into whipping those fists around on me, but before I can say hi, he grabs the bag to still it.

"I've seen sloths move faster than you, grandma." He says breathlessly, wiping sweat from his brow.

"That's no way to treat a customer," I cross my arms and pout.

He chuckles and unwraps the taping from his large hands.

Am I really about to let this man touch me with those paws after what he just did to that bag?

"Is it still tight?"

"Excuse me," I shake out of my thoughts.

He rolls his eyes, "your neck? You said it was bothering you yesterday."

"oh, yeah." I try to save this conversation with humor. "But as you can see it's a bit more than my neck today. I'm more sore than yesterday"

"DOMS" he answers.

"Uhm, I"m more of a sub myself-"

He cuts me off with a booming laugh, "That's great to know, but DOMS is delayed onset muscle soreness. Happens from progressive overload."

My cheeks burn. Not only have I shown where my mind is twice (the gutter) I've also exposed my preferences (a whore).

"Youve been squatting heavier so it check out," he shrugs.

Is he hinting that he's been watching me squat?

"Yes I watch," he reads my mind.

"What? Why?"

He shrugs again, "I like to make sure everyone is using proper form."

"And how is my form?" i arch a brown

"Excellent," he croons, eyes slowing scanning my body. It's suddenly hotter than the sauna room in here.

"But you can quit the theatrics of pushing your ass out as far as you can. You'll hurt your lower back."

Fuck he is watching me be a whore

"I'll keep that in mind." I try to change the subject though I doubt where I'm going with this is any more appropriate. "So, if your not busy do you wanna take a look."

He pauses wiping off with a towel and we both stare at each other before it clicks what I just said.

"LOOK AT MY ALIGNMENT I MEAN!" i say quickly, but Toji already has a smug fucking looking gracing those scared lips.

+++

The gym's spa room is complete with a hot tub, sauna, tanning booths, and tables that customers can schedule for a masseuse to come in.

Toji gestures to the table, pressing a button that lowers it. "Hop on."

is he being suggestive now?

I sit on the table after removing my shoes. "How do you want me?"

Damn it's no wonder so many porns revolve around massaging, it's too damn easy.

"Well, let me feel your neck first." He steps behind me, "Is it ok if I touch you now?"

I nod. Fuck yes, you can sir.

"Let's get this hair out of the way," he says, gathering my hair in his large hand and laying it across my shoulder. The touch is gentle and comforting. Toji presses the pads of his thumbs along the base of my neck, "Tell me when it's tender."

He continues to palpate around my nape, hitting a tender spot right at the base of my skull. "Ouch right there, " i wince

He place his whole palm on the column of my neck, massaging up and down the area."Yeah, your really tight along the cervical spine area." (😏)

I pull away from his touch, too sore to take it.

"I'm sorry, too much?" He asks, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I nod and he waits for me to signal that he can continue.

"Do you get headaches alot?"

I nod again

"Hmph," he uses a lighter touch to prod my muscles. "Lay on your back for me."

I do as he instructs, placing my head in the desginated head rest.

Toji pulls a stool up, sitting his large thighs now framing my head. I close my eyes to not have to see him overtop of me. My face is literally between his legs wtf.

He puts both hands on the side of my neck, his fingertips push and rub against the base of my skull. It feels amazing in a painful way.

"Right there," i breathe when he hits a particular sore spot.

"Yeah? Does that feel good."

I whimper at the sensation...and at the low purr of his voice.

"I could adjust ya if ya let me. Just a quick crack."

"Uhm, I don't know," I sit up, suddently scared that this man is going to snap my neck. "That seems scary."

He laughs, "It wont hurt, I promise. Youll just hear the cracking like when you pop your knuckles."

I'm still unsure and look down at his large hands.

"I'll be gentle, I swear to you. It'll be quick." He eases me back down onto my back. "I won't kill ya. Would be a horrible PR stunt if i killed a woman in my own gym." He teases.

"Thanks, really reassuring thing to say with your hands around my throat." But damn if it wasn't a thrilling sensation to feel his warm palms pressing against my neck and his fingers slipping through my hair as he moves it out of the way.

"Alright," He pulls himself closer. My whole head is now fully in the palm of his hands. "Just relax, let me do the work."

I glance up quickly at yet another ambiguous comments. how many is that now.

I relax me head into his hands and his moves it side to side, feeling for the knots.

"Yeah right there it is," he says to himself.

Before I can think of anything salacious, Toji twist my neck to the side. A rush of heat enters my head and I gasp at the abrupt movement.

"There, breathe," he lays my head down on the table and rubs my shoulders encouragingly. "Good girl."

I take a deep breathe as more blood rushes to my head. it roars in my ears.

"Wasn't so bad was it?"

I shake my head. Too stunned to speak.

"How do you feel?"

"Wow, so much better" I laugh in relief at home incredible how my neck now feel.

"Now you said you have low back pain?" He swings around the side of the table. I nod. " Lay on your stomach."

Toji stands over my prone body, "I'm going to lift your shirt up a bit."

I feel the fabric slowly graze my low back, a chill springs up at the chill to the room temperature. But it's quickly heated by Toji's warm palms coming to rest right at the dimples above my ass. His thumbs dig it, moving in slow circles and I moan at the delicious pain.

"Seems like a pinched nerve. Nothing to adjust really."I hear toji readjust his positioning, "I need a better angle to push it back into place. "

He leans on the table, one knee bumping between mine so he's able to dig his thumb hard into my sacrum. "Just breathe."

I feel a nudge in my lower spine as he pushes into it, a tingling sensation shoots around my hips. I sigh in relief as the nerve is released.

"There we go," he continues to rub his thumbs into my back, and with the pain subsiding, I can't help but arch into his hands, losing myself to sensations. "Does that help?

When I nod, his hands move lower, spreading outward to grip my sides. "You have beautiful hips..."

I arch more into his touch, the movement causing my body to shift downwards, putting my aching core directly onto his knee. I fear I've gone too far but he doesn't move, just continues to rub my low back, moving slower, almost guiding my hips in circular motions.

The rough fabric of his sweats catches my already wet center. The thin yoga pants I'm wearing probably show just how aroused I am. I continue to grind on his knee; he continues to move my hips, completely silent as though he's afraid of snapping me out of this deviant act.

"Oh, god," I gasp, pushing my hard onto his knee as my orgasm rips through me. I lose myself in it, humping like a damn bitch in heat against him.

When I land back on earth and catch my breath, I push myself to my elbows. My hair sticks to my sweaty face.

Looking behind me at toji, I don't know what to expect. I see toji, still as a lake. His hands have loosened on my hips. He stares at me with pupils that completely engulf his green irises. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly and removes his knee from between my legs, coming to a standing position. My cheeks are on fire as I see the damp spot on his pants from me.

I stand quickly from the table, my blood rushes to my head and causes me to go blind momentarily. I stumble past him without waiting to see clearly.

After mumbling a thanks, I rush out the door, leaving my gym bag behind...

[yomiurinikei]

KEISUKE IRANAMI!!!!!! (<- self proclaimed no1 keisuke fan)

okay i lied post gets to go live NOW !! long time no keisuke hi boyyyy…

•was a bit of a late bloomer, Specifically, took a minute to hit his height. he grew less than 10cm over the few years he was expected to grow more and was worried that was It

•then he effectively Woke Up and grew like a bean sprout. tbh was a Bit embarrassed abt it for a while, i can see a sibling or two or six teasing him abt finally growing Up

•the reason for his longer hair in sdra2 is Honestly more that he hasn’t set aside time to go get it cut than anything

•smthn smthn caring for your appearance/presentation… his sense of self falls under his devotion to his beliefs, bc he’s following a System and Orders instead of thinking things through on his own. 

•does still take good care of himself in terms of hygiene though. his hair is very smooth!!! well brushed

•speaking of haircuts, as a kid, satsuki Hated getting her hair cut so keisuke always got his cut at the same time as her. whenever she needed a haircut, he’d go w her and get his done first, and then she’d go so they could match <3

•totally has had no impact on his haircut avoidance now. totally.

•in general keisuke doesn’t really have time for things he wants to do… but that’s kinda a lie. its less about having the time and way more abt like… bc of how Dedicated he is to his work at the foundation, he… doesn’t have much life outside it. but that’s less bc he works long hours and stuff- it just.. Consumes him

•he gets to his apartment and thinks about the foundation. he doesn’t go get engaged with a hobby. if he’s Invested in anything it’s the foundation. nothing else interests him

•THOUGH i don’t wanna portray sdra2 keisuke as empty shell of a man

•like he’s clearly still close w ryutaro and midori even if things come to a Head when we last see them. he’s clearly maintained a relationship w them!!!! he’s still iranami keisuke, who served his role in helping everyone survive 6.5

•and he’s just Fixates on the foundation. because it gives him a code of beliefs. a system to follow. it’s a promise. 

•he just has Worse issues than he lets on. which is why ryutaro and midori seem so surprised w how he is. he goes w them for dinner and hosts them at his apartment for a game night. and it’s fun and he’s having fun and he’s fun to be around. and he’s one of Many who’s just severely crushed by the tragedy. this is how he’s taped himself together

•hey whoops. this direction was uhh not where i meant to go! speaking of board games he feels like a chutes and ladders guy

•HEY ALSO. TBT OLD POST. he gives satsuki all his grape jolly ranchers. she gives him all her blue raspberries (…most of them. a girl needs variety in her diet!)

•doesn’t have a big sweet tooth but like fruit + cream sweets. roll cakes and etc..

•favorite season is winter but he likes to stay In during it. lowkey has poor circulation in tragedy days, his fingers get Cold fast

•really huge on the Cut of his clothing in terms of how it fits on him. he needs pressure on the right places… likes things heavier on his shoulders, looser around his waist. (context for this is i was looking at his overalls (?) on satsukis design sheet + 6.5 design)

•i think the uniform kinda bugs him bc of this. he likes the vest but he’s gone a size up w the pants. no one tell tsurugi

•just naturally has a p balanced diet. likes a lot of foods!

•Generally not a big seafood guy tho. this is occasionally an issue w traveling around for the circus(/tragedy agriculture changes) bc it’s Such a common meal staple, but it’s part of why he likes sm different things. he’ll eat Anything else

•any seafood he has has to be Coated in sauce/seasoning/etc. if it tastes like the sea, he’ll sea you later.

•a fan of Moderate spice. likes it when it’s used Tastefully~ ….satsuki pranks him a Good Bit w spicy foods. he coughed it up once and she spiraled abt it bc she felt so bad-

•was a HUGE bookworm as a kid. kinda defied stereotypes by still being v friendly and sociable, but he Loooved to read.

•satsuki picked up reading p quickly bc she was curious abt what he was up to. wasn’t super caught by books, though. liked being read to, so keisuke tried to Monitor his book choices a bit

•started to be satsukis #1 big sibling after getting randomly handed her to watch Once. he was just her deigned caretaker after that, and once she was old enough to convey her wants, it was p clear she associated him w being happy <333

•would’ve gotten into photography as a preteen if he wasn’t busy w his family and the circus

•a pretty good cook! but bc of the range of things he likes, he can sometimes make things that others are a bit wary of.

•tbh he’s content living by himself but i think if he had some pets it’d make him happier than he thinks it would.. (+ would Make him be invested in smthn new)

•particularly i see him w cats since they’re happy w being indoor only, while dogs Need to go out. little white and black kitty… long haired orange cat….. my visions are So clear!!!!

[karamazovposting]

On Ivan and bipolar disorder (part two)

Before continuing from where I left off in part one I have to say something: I go over some heavier stuff in here. Nothing that isn't already present in the book and that I haven't seen mentioned in other people's metas, but I still want to give you a heads up: the main focus of part two is suicide/suicidal ideation and childhood trauma. I mean, this is a The Brothers Karamazov meta about a bipolar coded character so I think you all already knew these things were going to be in here, but I think that if you have bipolar disorder or are close to someone who has it some things could be upsetting or remind you of some unpleasant (to put it mildly) experiences. Writing certain things hits me at least (though not in a triggering way), but I think it's important to touch certain topics as they are core topics when it comes to bipolar disorder and it's impossible to talk about it without going over the ugly stuff. I've also been on meds and in therapy for years and I'm doing fairly well in life now so that's all in the past. Anyway don't worry, this is the only part of this essay that includes these topics.

This said, here's what I'll go over in this post: mostly what Ivan says in The brothers get acquainted, Rebellion, and The Grand Inquisitor, focusing more on the former two than the latter, as I personally find a particular passage of The brothers get acquainted to be one of the most beautiful and bipolar things I've ever read and we need to talk about Rebellion to further understand Ivan's inner world. The Grand Inquisitor isn't really that useful in this case but there's one thing that caught my attention.

As I already said in part one, The brothers get acquainted is the chapter that made me decide that Ivan is bipolar coded. I've even written a specific part of it down and read it to my therapist because I am, in fact, clinically insane. At this point I don't think I can hide how biased I am anymore, not that I ever really tried anyway, so I'll start by saying that this is my favorite part of the whole book. It may seem strange because it seems like such a small and simple chapter: it's not The Grand Inquisitor, it doesn't have the dreamlike atmosphere of Cana of Galilee or the chaotic passion of Delirium; it's not the courtroom scene or the epilogue. No one's getting murdered or hallucinating the devil or getting falsely accused, just Ivan talking about himself and letting us see his humanity like we had never before. We get to know him in the same way and at the same time his own brother does.

Why is this, in my opinion, the most crucial passage? What does it tell us? This is the first window on Ivan's inner world we get and the first thing it tells us, through Alyosha, is that there's a significant gap between how other people see Ivan and how he actually is. I mean, we already had a glimpse of that in the previous chapters through Miusov, Dmitri and even Fyodor, but Ivan was never there. The difference here is not only that Ivan is present, but also that Alyosha managed to see right through him in a way the others didn't, and it's telling that Alyosha asks Ivan if he'll get angry and feel insulted after hearing what he picked up on, considering that it's just that Ivan is after all a regular twenty-three year old. Alyosha even tells him he's nice! The thing is that Alyosha thinks that to Ivan the offense wouldn't be in what he managed to see in him, but in the fact that he managed to see it in the first place. I think I'll go over this and the other characters' perception of Ivan in part three because it doesn't really fit with this part's themes and also I have a feeling this post will get long even without it (sorry!).

Ivan is not angry at all though, he's amused and he takes this opportunity to open up; after all he did say he wanted Alyosha to get to know him (and viceversa!). I think it's important to note that he ends up pretty much monologuing for three chapters straight, almost as if he's used to bottling up his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself (I'm pretty sure it's actually stated somewhere that he does, I had some little notes I wrote in my phone mentioning something like that but my notes app crashed before I could save them and I can't for the life of me find it in the book, but I swear it's there).

Here we get to see Ivan's rather unusual attitude towards life: he's not actively suicidal in that moment, but he doesn't exclude the possibility of suicide later in life, and not only this is a very bipolar feeling on its own, but the origin of this feeling and the way he explains his reasons also are. Ivan is very tired, both physically and mentally, it's stated multiple times through the novel, but he doesn't necessarily hate life even though he has mixed feelings towards it; on one hand he says there is no kind of misery, no matter how deep, capable of making him want to stop living (after all, bipolar disorder is all about bouncing back up no matter what), but on the other hand he's repulsed by life and that's why he describes his lust for it as inconvenient and against logic. He wants to live but he hates that he wants to live and he knows he'll eventually get tired of it and just quit, and it's something he feels very strongly, all of it. The thing that really sticks out to me and that struck me is that his passive suicidal ideation is very thought out (unlike Dmitri's which feels more impulsive to me but that's another story for another post), like he's gone through miserable periods of his life several times (I mean, the narrator does also say it) and he came to the conclusion that yes, this is bearable, but only for a limited number of years. He says he asked himself a thousand times if it's worth it and after a thousand times he gave himself the illusion of choice: I will kill myself but I won't succumb to my misery, I'll just be too tired to keep living, it will be my choice. With Ivan (just like with bipolar disorder in general) it's all about control and it's something that hits very close to home to me to the point I had to stop reading to stare at the wall and go he gets it. He really does, this is a very common sentiment and experience among people with bipolar disorder and that's why it's sadly one of the mental disorders with the highest suicide rate (and most historical figures with bipolar disorder I know about actually did die by suicide). The constant up and down is exhausting and that's exactly the feeling Ivan's words gave me, he describes the bipolar experience so well I was genuinely impressed considering The Brothers Karamazov was written and is set in the second half of the 1800s, when psychiatry and psychology were just starting to be born. I think it's also important to mention that he doesn't really give himself much time either: he's only twenty-three and he set his own life to end at thirty. It's only seven years, but seven years can seem like an infinite amount of time when you have to deal with what we have to, especially if we consider my interpretation of Ivan and his childhood. What do I mean by that? I mean that this is about to get interesting (and kind of personal).

Now, in the past almost two-hundred years, no one has still figured out the exact cause of bipolar disorder as the exact mechanism behind it is still unclear (to the point we don't even know why the meds used to treat it work, we just know that for some reason they do) but it mostly comes down to two factors: genetic and environmental. It's usually a mix of the two and it's most likely that once again it varies between individuals, but a very common bipolar experience is the one of a traumatic and overwhelming childhood: many of us had to deal with a mentally ill parent growing up due to the genetic factor and many of us went through so much stress and trauma that the end result could be nothing but bipolar disorder. And this is where Ivan's character stumbles in: I think his protectiveness towards children and his impossibility to accept their suffering stem from his impossibility to accept his own traumatic childhood. Let's be clear, all four brothers had a traumatic childhood, but Ivan seems to be the one who's most impacted by it. Dmitri was abandoned by his mother at the age of three and his father forgot about him (just like he forgot about Ivan and Ivan also seems deeply affected by that considering how he reacts when Fyodor doesn't remember Aleksej's mother was also his own), Pavel never got to know his due to her death in childbirth, and Aleksej's only memories of his mother are fuzzy and dreamlike, which leaves Ivan as the only one who actually has clear memories of his mother: an ill woman who probably couldn't take care of him and his little brother properly because of that and who died young (very traumatic for a child); he probably still remembers her screams. There's a very well written post about how each brother was affected by their respective missing mother figure so I won't go into that because there's no need and it doesn't really fit in here, but I think this is a very important part of Ivan's life that also obviously reflects in his adulthood (again, I'll talk about it in the future), and that we have to take into consideration as an example of what kind of pain a child has to go through to turn out a certain way.

But why am I saying this? I'll be honest with you: mere projection. Ivan's words on the injustice of children's suffering resonated with me so much, especially in relation to his refusal to accept God's existence in a world that allows such things to happen. As you probably figured, I'm an atheist myself and I am for the same reasons he is. There's a quote by Sylvia Plath, who also had bipolar disorder: I talk to God but the sky is empty. I won't elaborate because I don't feel like this is the place, but I relate to it a lot and I think it's applicable to Ivan as well. Mind you that I'm not here to talk about religion, I mean no disrespect and I wouldn't have mentioned my atheism if it hadn't been relevant, so please don't say anything unnecessary about that.

My projection went even further when I realised that Ivan is young (we're the same age actually!), what business does he have to be talking like that? Why does he talk like that but his brothers don't? But I also talk like that so here's that and here's connecting the dots, as I started doing a couple paragraphs ago.

Symptoms of bipolar disorder on average start manifesting during early adulthood, which checks out because Ivan is twenty-three. But he already seems to have a lot of experience "on the field" and it's unusual for someone that age, so it got me thinking a lot, mostly about my own experience. I was "lucky" enough (I still haven't figured out if I'm being sarcastic or not, as it can be both a blessing and a curse, how ironic) to develop symptoms way earlier than the usual onset age of twenty-five, which led me to being diagnosed and starting treatment as a teenager (blessing, the earlier you start treatment the more effective it is on the long run), but which also means I was a terrified child fighting for my life on a daily basis (curse, for obvious reasons) and I thought that maybe Ivan's background could be similar to mine considering what I said earlier about his very strong feelings towards the suffering of children; it's still projection but at least it makes sense. I genuinely don't know how common this experience is, apparently cases like mine are quite rare (I've had this disorder for most of my life), so I guess I also take some sort of comfort in Ivan's character due to this.

And with that, we're done with both The brothers get acquainted and Rebellion, so where does this leave The Grand Inquisitor? As I said earlier, there isn't much to say about it in my opinion when it comes to the point I'm trying to make, but there is one particular thing that I noticed: Ivan thanks Alyosha for listening to him, he thanks him for caring. I found it very sweet but also quite sad and I think it's useful insight about how Ivan lives his life and his relationships with other people. If everything goes as planned, part three should be mostly focused on that and Ivan's particular (and partially self-inflicted) loneliness (which is also tied to how other people perceive him, I already mentioned that, I know) so I won't talk about it now. I also want to highlight that Ivan makes a joke! It's not the usual kind of joke he makes though, as we previously see that Ivan's humor consists mostly of taking the piss out of people he doesn't particularly like or agree with, this time he makes a lighthearted joke about his poem that isn't at the expense of anyone ("that's plagiarism") and he's even described as being delighted in that moment. I personally found that cute and I think we don't talk about this side of Ivan enough.

I'll stop here because I think I covered everything I wanted to regarding these particular parts of the book. I'm not completely satisfied with this, but I got stuck for days because it was a little hard for me to write this part, I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible because I had to treat matters I'm sensitive about (hence the slight change of tone between this and my other posts, I noticed and I hope it wasn't too depressing, I tried throwing in some humor here and there), so I wrote in as little sittings as possible and I barely gave this a couple rereads, sorry. It feels more emotional than part one, which is something I am not a fan of but I'm not surprised and there isn't much I can do about it (other than fix my own discomfort with human emotions I guess but I'm working on it). I wanted to write this but at the same time I didn't but there was no way for me to completely exclude my personal experience as it's the main reason why I saw what I saw in Ivan and I'm writing this essay in the first place, but please don't dwell too much on it. I managed to edit most of it out anyway but still.

I wanted to go over Ivan's implied problem with alcohol as well and also the comparison with Dmitri (I mentioned him at the beginning for this reason) because I see the two of them as being two sides of the same coin, but I didn't really know how to include them (I think I'll briefly talk about the former in one of the next parts but I'm not sure how or when) and then I realised these topics can be treated together (as I think they're related) in a separate and more elaborate post that is not part of this essay, so look forward to that (and the rest of this long ass thing).

[mutipede]

Oh my fucking god loooll I don't know whether I'm exasperated or blessing in disguise - WORK STORYTIME

My 1st shift co-worker has been convinced for a long time - since before I started working here - that one guy has been fucking with him. And so he spends a lot of time setting up elaborate ways to protect against that.

I actually managed to debunk one of his biggest concerns yesterday. We keep getting that turret clamp sensor alarm, right? And he was CONVINCED that it was that guy doing it. Maintenance thought it was just heavy tool blocks throwing the turret out of balance, especially when we turn the machine off every day, the hydraulics unclamp and the turret can drift out of position if it's heavier on one side, so when we turn the machine back on and it's not in the position it expected, it alarms out. Made sense to me. And I thought since it's intermittent and worsening over time maybe the sensor's just going out. But he was CONVINCED it was THAT GUY...

Until he showed me theoretically how someone would be able to throw off the turret position manually. They'd have to turn the machine on (cause you can't open the doors while it's powered down), hit a "turret unclamp" button, move the turret out of position, then shut the machine back off.

And then I realized every time you turn the machine on, it tells you to zero all the axes. <-THAT shows up in the same spot as an alarm or other error message. The machine keeps a diagnostic history of the alarms it displays. So you can go in and see exactly when the machine was turned on, the date and time. And he said it was a load off his mind AND he felt like an asshole accusing that other guy of doing it, even if he still thinks he's fucking with him in other ways.

So one of the things he's been doing is - there's a key in the machine that has to be there and turned on in order to change or edit programs, among other things. So he's been taking the keys out and hiding them. He normally tells me when he changes the hiding place, and if the machine's running you don't need that key to make basic offset adjustments anyways, so it's no big deal.

Except today I'm supposed to do a setup on one of the machines, and the key for THAT machine is not in the most recent hiding place. The one for the other machine is, and he didn't tell me about any new hiding place, and I checked his old hiding places and it's not there, so...

Unless he gets back to my text which I would not be surprised if he doesn't cause he's gotta wake up in <5 hours I cannot do this setup lol

Chances are good he just forgot where he put it but man I Get paranoia so I also can't help but think "man wouldn't that have been an effective way for someone to fuck with him, taking one of the keys out of his hiding place and moving it somewhere ELSE so his defense is turned against him and maybe he'd even get in trouble for hiding the keys in the first place"

But either way aaayyy valid excuse to not have to do a setup. And I can get all the tools and stuff ready and look like I'm doing him a favor even though it's less work for me in the end hahaaa

[heliosthegriffin]

Shadow Knight, and Magic Girls XII

AO3 Link

Chapter 12

-----

'The choice is yours, was the Gods answer to the Hero.

The Hero-King thought on it, then made his decision.

He went to live inside the tower with his Moon.

With his kingdom following him.

They lived happily together.

Then the Hero-King died, ascending into the Heavens.

With his death, the Golden Age of Man had ended.

-----

Jaune put away the book, Melanie snapping her fingers to get his attention.

"Really, a children's book?" She asked dismissively.

"I like the pictures." Jaune asked coyly.

"Huh," She sighed. "Whatever, time to suit up, we've fully replaced your inventory and gear, hope you don't miss the old stuff."

Jaune frowned. He would, but he also wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. "What did you do with the old stuff?"

"Burned it." She looked at him, searching his face. "We can't have your dna laying around. Plus, it was all a hairs breath away from falling apart, seriously, how did you even stay alive up to now?"

"Spite, mostly." Jaune answered. "And, a need to hit things really hard."

Melanie laughed. "Alright, then." She shook her head. "Lets get going."

Jaune followed her into a clean, sterile room with humming lights, he couldn't spot a speck of dirt if he tried. In the center of which, a steel table with a set of folded clothes, a helmet, a set of shoes, socks, and gloves. Next to it, a similar table, thick sturdy-looking vest, a set of straps and holsters, full of fun looking toys and gadgets, and then another table, full of weapons.

Walking over to the first table, he realized the sets of clothes came with a set of underclothes, he raised a eyebrow at Melanie.

"What?"

"Underwear, really?"

"You want to have kids?"

"If I live long enough, yeah."

"Then you're going to need to protect you're jewel's better, boy."

Jaune went quiet in acceptance. He stripped, feeling no real shame in the act, as he Melanie and the rest had already had seen everything he had to offer.

Putting on the underclothes first, it clung tightly to him like a second skin, stretching and contracting across him. They also felt warm, and comforting. They were also a dark grey, almost black color.

"Those are reinforce with Kevlar, it won't stop a bullet, not by itself, but it'll keep you from being shanked, and when layered beneath it the rest of the outfit, it'll keep you from having a new blowhole."

"Thanks." He had been grazed a couple of times past, but never taken a direct hit.

Moving onto the rest, Jaune realized he was looking at dark-blue suit and trousers. Picking them up, they were heavier than they looked.

Jaune peered at Melanie curiously.

She shrugged. "What? If you're going on the Xiong's Lien, you're going out in style. Anything it's more protective than what you had. This will stop a bullet, a low-caliber one, but it'll stop it. It might hurt like hell, but it won't go through you." Jaune put on the pants, they fit perfectly, like he had worn them a thousand times before. Was this power of a personally made clothes? Or was it just money?

"The top half has Kinetic force-reactive Earth Dust built into it, so when you get hit hard enough, it'll form plates that'll break instead of you, not that'll save you from being hit by a bus, or a building falling on you." Melanie continued. "But, to the common thug? You might as well be a walking tank. It's also reinforced like the underwear, stab-resistant, slashing-resistant, and padded to absorb blunt force. Not that I recommend you testing that."

"Noted, and approved." Jaune felt heavier, but not uncomfortably so, the weight was well distributed across him. It was actually, quite comfortable. It was like he wasn't hindered at all by it. He did some quick movements, a couple punches and rotated his torso, as though dodging unseen hits, it didn't restrict him in the slightest, or slow him down. "It feels great."

"I would hope so, It was 4000 Lien, and that was just the over clothes." Jaune stumbled, balancing on one foot so he wouldn't crash into the floor. His neck grinded against his head as he looked toward Melanie. "4000?" She nodded. "Yup, and remember this is just one suit, we're having multiple ones made, which since it's bulk order, they threw in a slight discount, but it still is around 37.5K Lien total, and adding in everything else, you're looking at," She pulled up her scroll, and projected a screen. "89.5K."

Jaune stared at the number with horror. "How?"

"Well, it's custom made, so the maker can charge practically whatever they want." She shrugged, holding up her hands helplessly. "And, quality doesn't come cheap, we're not the military, so we don't just take the lowest bidder, either. Anyway, it's actually not that bad, that's also including your weapons, gear, and everything else. But, you can't expect to go into battle cheaply, do you? You're a Xiong asset, and will be treated as such, you just so happen to be one that talks back sometimes."

Jaune said nothing, it was sinking again how far into this he was again. It was one thing to just a see a big number, and know in theory one was responsible for paying it back, but actually seeing the items that were worth that much money, well it was staggering.

"Hey, don't look so glum," Melanie said, trying to cheer him up. "At least we won't be taking your organs if you don't pay interest, as long as you risk your life every night for us." She said cheerfully.

Jaune chuckled. "Well, that helps, I guess." He moved over to a pair of boots. "How many kidneys would I need to sell for one of these?"

"None, just several days of hard labor."

"Oh."

"Anyway, they're just extra-durable otherwise, and made to fit into the outfit without sacrificing practicality. They're also slip-resistant, water-resistant, and noise-suppressant."

Jaune put on his gloves, looking at them for any secrets. "They're just reinforced, but I suppose, they look more like gauntlets than gloves. They're well padded, though and have plates on the back. So, feel free to go catching knives, and back-handing brick-walls, if you feel like it. Should be safe-enough."

The helmet was no long an old bike helmet he had found. They had given the bastard-love child of a tactical helmet and a knights great helm. It was also a dark navy somehow fitting with the rest of the outfit.

He'd give the Xiong's this they didn't half-ass it when it came to design, if they were going asskicking they're doing it in style. Jaune included too, now.

He put it on, and like the rest, it was made for him.

'Testing.' Miltiades voice spoke from inside, and Jaune jumped back in surprise. 'Ha, got you! I was waiting all day for that' Jaune looked around for her. 'Try speaking back to me.'

"Alright," And Jaune noticed his voice was distorted like it was coming down a hallway, and slightly deeper. 'Neat, right?' Milita said. 'Anyway, since you can't be taking your scroll out with you, we put a com system in, along with so other goodies. Like night-vision, light-protection, hearing-protection, and even, some emergency air-dust! You're all set, buddy.'

"Thanks." Jaune answered, but internally thankful, he wasn't hearing voices.

Going to the next table, he looked at a tactical-vest, then asked Melanie show him how to put it on. She didn't know either, so they just looked up some Atlasian Soldier show them how.

"Alright, we got that figured out. Inside the pockets are flash-bangs, tear-gas, basic-first aid, rope, extra magazines for the guns, knives, a stun-baton, water flask, flares, and some pain-killers. That's all we could think of at the moment, if you need anything else, just ask."

"If I can, I'm having trouble just remember what you already said."

"Then we're probably good for now."

Then they moved over to the last table. Jaune smiled under his helmet.

-----

Red held out a bundle to Black. "It's done, my dark mistress."

Black nodded, accepting it and sliding it into a shadow space. "Acceptable. Consider you're debt paid."

"Yes!" Red cheered.

"Though,-" A scythe tickled Black's neck. "Red?" She asked nervously.

"Oh, don't mind me, continue you on." She smiled like a saint.

Black sweated, and slowly pushed the scythe away. "I'll get to deleting those video's now."

Red continued to smile. "Good."

The two then took off in streaks of light across the city, over towards the dock, where the other three were waiting.

"So, what's the lead?" Yellow asked the group.

"There has been a murder here!" Red proclaimed, gesturing to the dark waters lapping at the boats and docks.

"There's always a murder, somewhere." White sighed. "Why are we wasting our time here, instead of letting the cops handle this?"

"At cost of agreeing with her, yes, this a pretty charged place to begin with." Black added, but added a snide look toward White. "Not that the cops are going to be of help here, they're probably to busy being paid not to come here."

White looked agrieve and glared at Black, opening her mouth, only to be cut off by Crimison.

"I've done my own research, and the murders go back farther than that, the Grimm have been here longer than any of us, or our predecessors. Brutal killings happen here, there is a pattern going back at least sixty years here, of dock-workers being torn apart by some monstrous creature, with legends and storys going back centuries of something lurking around the waters here. Now, given what we know about Grimm..."

Yellows eyes lit up. "Then we got a very old, very strong Grimm hanging around the waters here." Her hair lit up in antipation. "This is going to be awesome, I've been getting bored fighting all these pests around here!"

"I wouldn't get too excited." Black added. "If it's a Class-D6 minimum, maybe even up to a multi C-Class, then to get that old, it probably knows better than to reveal itself around us, the older a Grimm gets the more sensitive it becomes to Aura. So, if we're all up here throwing out several magnitudes over the normal amount of Aura, it's probably already gone into hiding."

Yellow deflated, hair extinguishing. "Oh. That's no fun."

"Which is way, we're going to be observing in shifts over here, until we can determine if it's still even in the area." Red added.

Yellow frowned. "Can't we just blow up the area till it comes out?"

All of them looked at her like she was an idiot.

"No."

"Bad idea, Yellow."

"Lady Purple was most displeased last time."

"With all due respect, no."

Yellow sulked. "You girls are no fun." Then flew off searching for cobblerable enemies.

White sighed. "Someone make sure to go get her for her turn, anyway whose going first?"

Red held up her hand. "Me."

"Alright, then I'll follow after her." White added.

"I'll take over after you," Crimson said.

"Alright, then me, then Yellow." Black nodded.

"Lets do this!" Red cheered.

-----

Downtown Vale was not a quiet place in general, it was busy full of foot traffic, and a had a healthy night-life. Couples met up with friends for drinks late into the night, clubs offered meetup spots late into the early morning, and hotels were one could book by the hour were open 24hrs.

That did not mean tragedy did not happen.

In a secluded alleyway, a man took his last breaths in utter agony. He could not move his hands, his feet, or even roll his eyes. His stomach was torn open, and he was pinned to the ground by a great black beast. He was in the process of being torn apart alive.

It ripped great big chunks out of him with a twist of it's neck, and sent viscera flying across the alley. It stomped it's legs and flattened whatever it hit into a gruesome, unspeakable paste. Bones broke, organs pulped, and a man slowly died.

This was no animal, that could clearly be ruled out, what did this, did it with a evil mind and utter hatred that motivated it's entire reason to exist, a soulless abomination in search of destroying all with a Soul.

A man watched in horror inside a dumpster, cowering in utter fear and disgust.

River Song had been having a rough couple weeks, job was a mess due to lack of people, he hadn't had a good night sleep in weeks, and he had been feeling himself losing his life into a spiral of depression.

So, when he got a sudden call from some of his old friends coming into town, he had been ecstatic, agreeing to meet them tonight. It had been years since he seen some, and months for others, so he made sure to look his best before going out.

When River met them it was the best night he had in years, he felt his energy come back, and it was like they had never been separated from each other for more than a second with how in tune they were.

It was late at night, when they had stumbled out of a bar, and decided to call it a night, with River offering his friend Garth a shoulder to lean on as he escorted his friend to his hotel.

They had opted to take the back-alleys, as while it had some dangers, River and Garth were full of a drunken sort of confidence that told them it was good idea.

Garth had needed to take a piss, and River kept a watch to make sure no one came up behind them.

River wished it had been a man with a gun, or a knife, piece of wood, whatever it a man could wield. It would have been better than the thing that crawled out of the night.

He hadn't been able to see it at first, only hear it, the sound of something massive moving around behind him. He had disregard it figuring it was a stray dog, or maybe a large raccoon.

When a pair of shining red eyes looked at him from the other end of the street, he felt a primal chill grip his heart.

It made no sign of it noticing them like a wild animal would, no snorts of aggression, no growls, no pawing at the earth, no shaking its head. It just charged at them, moving at a automotive speeds that could only be seen to believe.

River grabbed his friend by the shoulders, and they took off running blindly in a panic.

It was a futile effort, as they ended up cornered, Garth tripped and was trampled by the creature, and River ended up tossed into a dumpster when he was clipped by it mid-sprint. He couldn't move his leg, he didn't know if it was out of fear, or if he actually broke something.

He had heard of fight, or flight before, he hadn't known till now of a horrifying third option.

Freezing. He knew he couldn't fight, and he could not flee, so all he was left with was seat in the observation theater to his long-time friends mutilation.

Forced to watch the beast as it tore him apart.

It's black skin practically melded into the shadows around, with only thick white plates giving any evidence it was more than just a mass of monstrous shadows.

It was massive, so big, that it made him wonder how it got into Vale with no one the wiser. It was on all fours, looking vaguely like a giant pig, with large tusks. It was low to the ground, but as wide as two men put together, and so heavy, he laughed at the idea of moving it without a machine.

Crack.

River felt his heart freeze, as he saw the thing bring it's hoof down on his friends head, done with him.

It turned towards him, and charged.

The entire dumpster shook and flew backwards into the wall, and River scrambled back, as steel dented inward, and two wickedly sharp tusk were inches away from him.

For a moment, Rivers hoped, that the monster was stuck, that this was his chance to run.

The tusks jerked back and forth, tearing apart steel like it was wet cardboard, opening up the dumpster to the alleyway, spilling trash out into the alley.

Rivers then got a good look at it's bone-plated face, and hateful red eyes, and had a moment to realize he was about to die.

Yet, he still could not move, utterly taken by the horror he struck with.

Looking at his friends mangled body, time-slowed down for him, and he got a good look at every horrible inch of it. He felt a great and terrible sense of responsibility, that he was at fault for this.

He absorbing the sight and burning it into himself.

The boar-thing launched itself at him.

Bang.

The sound stretched to infinity to Rivers, it was horribly loud sound, one that rattled his teeth, and made his frozen heart jump in place, it was sound he didn't ever want to hear, yet at that moment, it was more beautiful than a heavenly song.

He got a front row-seat to watching as the boar-things mask jerked to the side, pieces flew off in slow-motion in great shards and thin slivers. Crack lines grew slowly from the point it was hit, like watching weathering happen in real-time. From underneath the mask, Rivers could see nothing but dark-red mass, shifting around, but no blood was spelt.

Bang.

Another sound rang out, the mask exploding off it's head, in a great white spray of bone-like fragments, shaving off the front of it's head, removing it's horrible red eyes from looking at Rivers.

He felt his heart start to be normally, and he scrambled as far back as could, time started moving normally. The urge to live hitting back in full force, guilt suppressed for the moment, as adrenaline hit him like a sledgehammer.

Getting up, he looked about for a exit to his current crisis. But, realized in they're blind panic earlier, they had cornered themselves in a deadend.

And, he was stuck with the monster.

Rivers was not alone though.

As what could only be described as a Knight cloaked in shadows emerged from the alleyway with a calm stride, pumping a sleek-black shotgun, before firing with pin-point accuracy at the ruined mess of the boar's face.

Rivers watched in awe at the Knight's focus. They're wasn't the least bit of fear in him, was there? A sense of child-like wonder hit him, as he saw what could only be a story-book hero kill the monster in the dark.

It's head was hanging on by a thread at his point, having taken 3 hits from that shotgun. But, it was still very much alive, as it turned on a dime, with far too much grace for a creature it's size, charging the Knight with deadly force.

The knight merely slung the beast of a gun around his shoulder, and reached to his side, taking out a black-shield, and a large ax, then charge slipped to the side, as the boar almost hit him.

But, just as it pasted, he made a single downward swing with that ax that looked like it belonged inside a museum, and River's saw it's head separate from it's body, which carried on charging for a dozen yards before it realized it was dead, sliding to the ground.

Rivers was stunned.

The Knight wasn't, putting away the ax, and looked at him. "Are you ok?" His voice was deep and distorted, but it couldn't have sounded more friendly, if he was trying to offer him a beer.

Rivers realized he was crying, and feel to his knees, gesturing at what remained of his friend.

"Oh." If it was possibly, the Knight managed to fit a entire speeches worth of disappointment and sadness into a single word. "I'm sorry I wasn't quicker."

Rivers couldn't answer, he was choking on his own breath. Split between being happy to be alive, and disgusted at himself for living where his friend couldn't.

---

'So, the Silver Age began,

Led by a Lonely Woman, who sought to bring her husband back from the dead.

She left her town for the first time, searching far and wide for the magic to do so.

Eventually, she made her way to the spirit world, and found her husband.

He glowed with a majesty like the sun, and she wept, as he refused to come back

The Moon was enraged by this, but The Former King refused to yield, explaining his time was done.

His Wife could not comprehend it, and swore to bring him back, no matter the cost, and they would live forever.

The Man like the Sun swore to forever resist her attempts, less they bring the Wrath of Gods.

So, the Woman decided to become like the Moon, practicing her magic, she rose far above all others. Making the King's once great, but humble kingdom into a might kingdom.

Wielding dark magic, commanding great and terrible beast that were made of darkness and destruction, and made seven great generals to fight on her behalf.

Each one wielding a horrible bone mask.'

-----

Author's Note: If the cost for Jaune's equipment seems low, I'm using my head-canon that Lien has more buying power than the dollar, sense it's a univerally back currency on Remnant, that's accepted everywhere. So, it's worth is probably several times that of dollar, or even a euro.

How many times? Eh, lets go with a conservative estimate of 4 times the dollar, since they're 4 kingdoms. So, Jaune's actual cost is around 356K Dollars.

Anyway, I'm also using a ranking system for Grimm. It's not perfect, but it's not meant to be, it's just a general danger level related to age categories.

Going as

Class-Y0 for Yearling, all Grimm under or around a year old, with each number up, representing a year older, unto -

Class-D for Decades.

Then, Class-C, for century.

Then Class - M, for Millennium, at which point they're known as Super-Heavy Grimm.

Anything older is Class-A, for Ancient. As in Grimm known to be around since as far as recorded history, possible beyond it. Such as Krakens, Drakes, and Leviathans, and so on.

Then, lastly, for the end, we have Unknown - Class Grimm, ones that can't be measured as any age, due to power, or simply having a form that's hard to tell. These are the most dangerous simpply due to a lack of knowledge.

Thoughts? Idea? Let me know!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Hi Mr. S—I’ve got a very tmi ask about to follow so if any of this at all steps over the line please feel free to ignore and delete. I’m honestly a little mortified to even be writing this but I can’t think of another way to source this. Okay—

I am a learning writer and definitively not a dick-haver. But I’m trying to tackle writing smut and getting over my fear of it so I need to know (and I know you’ve sort of talked about what it’s like being hard so I’m hoping this is just. Next-step level stuff) whatever you can tell me about how it feels or how to descibe it to get aroused, be hard, and frankly, like… get over the finish line. I just have no idea how to put words to it in a way that actually feels realistic so anyone who does happen to have a dick isn’t pulled out of the writing.

Anyway I’m. truly sorry about this but your blog has always seemed very tmi and sex positive so I figured it was worth a shot! If this crosses a boundary please please ignore it :)

Hey!

That's all good, you're alright. This isn't too tmi, lol (even if it took me a minute to actually get to this ask. Sorry about that) and I do like to be open and sex positive.

This ask is the one you reference, about what it feels like to be hard.

*Before anything else, though, I have to say that I've never been bothered by the way fanfiction authors describe erections, orgasms, or any of that jazz. It's not so much about it being accurate as it is about the tone of the writing, y'know? Like, if it's in that wonderful, smutty tone, hell yeah, that's what it's about.

Obviously, tmi under the cut

Erections

As linked above, I have described what it feels like, to me, to get hard before. But, it was in fic form, and, hey, why not try and describe it more here right now?

I feel like most of the words for being erect that aren't so clinical as 'erection' are the words for it because they're descriptive of what it feels like. It can be really hard (ha) to build on it from there. Like, yeah, it feels hard. It feels stiffer. It feels hotter.

It's a rush of blood to my dick, pooling in the area, so naturally, it feels engorged and stiff and hot. It can also physically feel heavier or, at least, emotionally heavier in that I'm aware of my dick more than when I'm not hard. All those descriptions, to me, typing this right now, feel kind of dumb, though, lmao. Like. It's a hard-on, no shit, it's hard 💀

So, we move on, and as far as the stiffening, a detail that I don't see a lot is how, in my own experience, I can literally feel (if I pay attention to it, and depending on how fast the erection happens) my skin pulling--sort of expanding and stretching. The sensation is very particular and hard to put into words. It's itching without it being itchy. Hot and tight. Tingling sometimes. Like I mentioned in that short fic, it's almost like there's a balloon under your skin that's inflating. As it inflates, it gets more and more sensitive, too. So, you're more aware of it, and you touch it, then as you touch it, it feels like it expands more and more, getting more and more sensitive, pushing you to touch it more.

That expanding, pulling sensation, for me, has always been particularly noticeable around the base of my dick and my balls (which makes sense, lol, because, physically, when you see a dick get hard, you see the change in how the balls hang and the size of the shaft). It's a lot more noticeable when my skin brushes against itself. Hypersensitive and much hotter temperature wise. I don't even have to be actively touching myself to feel those sensations (it is a trip, though, if I think about it too much, touching myself and feeling my body swelling and getting stiffer with blood in my hand... just because of some spicy feeling in my brain, lmao).

Here's another sort of metaphor for the purpose of illustration--it's kind of like if you've ever hit your hand (or another part of your body, like your hip) on something solid, and as a result, you can feel the low-level throb under your skin with the pulse of your blood rushing to the injured area. It's like that. But it doesn't really hurt. Not right away. It can start to hurt if you prolong the experience. Like, a bruise might not hurt after getting it, not until you press down on it again. But, usually, it's not pain. It's an ache or a throb or pulse. Hot and intense, but not outright painful. Sometimes, getting erect almost tingles, but not really, also. It's hard to describe. It's a rush, certainly. Electric and thick, arousal going through your body in this hot, pulsing wave.

Oh, also, pre-cum is a thing. Humid, hot, and wet. Personally, I haven't found that I get super wet in the same way fanfiction describes (including my own fanfiction, lmao). However, not all dicks are the same, some people really do drip. To me, it doesn't really feel like anything, aside from registering as wet. It's not like ejaculation where I can feel it happening--it just comes out amidst the waves of pleasure and arousal already happening. And if I'm already using lube/lotion/whatever, it's actually fairly hard to notice.

Another way to describe it is like a bug bite--just stick with me here, lmao, I grew up camping and being ✨️manly✨️ so I have had lots of bug bites in my life.

Imagine the feeling of having a bug bite without the urge to itch the bite. What you have left is the swelling, the pressure, and the heat. You're very aware of the bite, and even hovering your hand over the bitten area means you can feel the radiating heat, plus there's this insistent need to do something about it (itch, lmao, don't you enjoy this mental image). Without touching, though, it still feels like something, right? It's swollen and tight. Pulsing, even. Plus, when you have a bug bite, the skin that you normally don't really notice becomes hypersensitive. Alive and awake. When you're hard, your dick is especially sensitive and responsive.

Pre-orgasm

Probably the best way to describe the build to orgasm and ejaculation (which, I know, for some men and dick-havers, can be separate events (dry orgasms) but for me they've always been the same, lol) is similar to how you feel when you've been out all day, on a road trip, or whatever has happened that's resulted in you not being able to go piss. But! Suddenly, you know you're going to be able to go piss--you're walking into your home, or you finally stopped at a rest stop, etc.--and your body is like, Oh, I Know What This Means. Now Is The Time. And you feel yourself start to relax prematurely even as the pressure continues and maybe even worsens. It's relief. It's pressure and heat, and it can get to the point where it's been so long that it hurts.

Lmao, it's almost like the moment before a sneeze but more tension and more pleasure; the same sort of time stopping as you wait for the moment to overtake you, though.

Also, edging is absolutely a thing, as are ruined orgasms for men and people with dicks, that being said, though... I find that it is near impossible to hit the breaks once the pressure is building and you're almost there. It's like a cliff precipice, and there's no holding back by the time you're aware you're at the edge. It definitely has something to do with how short the conscious build-up to orgasm is. Like, the whole time, my arousal is ramping up, but by the time I'm aware, oh, shit, now, it's kind of too late to do anything, lol.

Orgasm

In my experience, orgasm and ejaculation mirror each other--they happen at the same time, usually, so that tracks. They have the same sort of deep, rushing waves of heat and pleasure. In order to get the semen out at all, of course, the body's muscles are squeezing--rhythmically spasming, really--and I can feel it. Sometimes, those spasms feel stronger than others, and when it's strong, it feels like it's really being pumped, even ripped out of me.

The aggression or pure force of orgasms in fanfiction I find to be is fairly true. Not every orgasm is a double-over, gut-punched, ripped-out-of-you, teeth-gritting feeling, of course. Unfortunately, not everything is a sex-pollen, omegaverse knotting fantasy, haha. BUT from the way I've heard cis women describe orgasms as a full-body, more slowly fading, longer lasting experience, it seems like my orgasms are a lot more one note. It's building. Then breaking. And then gone.

It feels fucking great, of course. Tingling. Shivering. It's tight and hot, and then tighter and hotter, suddenly wet and tightening, pumping, blood rushing through my ears, but the only thing I feel is heat and pleasure. I'm not paying attention to anything else.

If arousal starts deep in my body, somewhere low, low between my spine and belly button, then an orgasm lunges forward and starts from the muscles around the base of my dick, spreading, reaching out lower and higher and wider. All directions. Radiating. It hits me in the balls and the flat muscles under my belly button. Contractions. Sometimes, it even reaches out to my hips, squeezing at the bones. It definitely tightens my balls, too. I've heard common "locker room talk" (as much as I hate that turn of phrase) description of ejaculation as shaking up a bottled soda and then unscrewing the lid as fast as you can and... yeah. I can get behind that. That's pretty close to how it feels.

Post-orgasm

Once it's over, I'm usually like, damn, when did I start breathing so hard? Lmao. I also nearly always get lightheaded afterward when with a partner. That moment of fuzzy vision, blinking a few times to get it to clear. It depends more when I'm jacking off alone--sometimes I have the same feeling, sometimes I don't.

(I also will say that I'm aware I work a little differently in my arousal and sexual response. I genuinely would rather get someone else off than get off myself. I specifically enjoy kinks when sex isn't always involved, and it's not about sex at all. So... maybe take this all with a few more grains of salt than normal when talking to someone on the Internet 💀 I don't even know if any of this is useful at all, though, lol.)

Erections don't go soft immediately after, naturally, but it is fairly soon if you aren't still in the headspace of being aroused.

With clean up, I don't mind it as much as I think fanfiction makes it seem like I should. Maybe it's because it's how it's always been, ever since I learned to jack off, so I don't find it to be a chore. I barely even notice that I have to do it 🤷🏻‍♂️ It's also not as much, volume wise, as fanfiction makes it seem like. Which, yeah, that's fantasy for you. It doesn't really matter anyway, lol. There's nothing wrong with a little extra semen here and there, haha.

Hopefully, this was helpful in some way! If so, go forth and write all the dick-filled filth possible 😘😘

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

New algorithms could enhance autonomous spacecraft safety

For humans throughout history, the sky has evoked thoughts of a vast emptiness, of a great vacant dome punctuated during the day by the sun, and at night by numerous tiny spots of light (and periodically by the moon). As we have ventured into space, both physically, with spacecraft, and optically, with a range of telescopic technologies, we now know that there is quite a lot of stuff up there.

This discovery has profound implications for the aerospace industry. Imagine, for example, a multibillion-dollar autonomous spacecraft that has been carefully designed and engineered for years is launched into space with precision calculations only to lose one of its thrusters and go sailing into an asteroid.

Historically, engineers have dealt with the possibility of equipment failure on board spacecraft in two main ways: First, by having a "safe mode" in which the spacecraft can do the least amount of damage to itself while scientists on the ground look at the data, make a diagnosis, and develop a solution; and second, by equipping autonomous vehicles with redundant systems. These allow a spacecraft, for example, to shut off a malfunctioning thruster and start using backup thrusters.

However, dangerous situations may crop up in space with little warning and insufficient time for space-to-ground communications. And though redundant systems have been quite effective, they add to the expense and heft of autonomous spacecraft.

This is why experiments are being conducted in the laboratory of Soon-Jo Chung, Bren Professor of Control and Dynamical Systems and senior research scientist at JPL, which Caltech manages for NASA, to streamline emergency features on autonomous vehicles such that they can diagnose and safely respond to encounters with other objects in real time. With new algorithms on board, spacecraft can test their own equipment and predict which future actions are most likely to keep them operating safely.

As one of the supervisors for this project, Fred Hadaegh, research professor in aerospace at Caltech and former JPL chief technologist, explains, "Having redundant systems is not always practical. It means the spacecraft has to be bigger, heavier, and more expensive than it would be otherwise. So, the idea here is that when a spacecraft encounters a problem, it can figure out what's not working and correct or adapt to that specific fault."

Chung's lab houses, among other things, an advanced multispacecraft dynamics simulator facility.

"The simulator occupies a large room with a really flat floor," explains James Ragan, a Ph.D. student in the Graduate Aerospace Laboratories of the California Institute of Technology (GALCIT) and lead author of a new paper on this topic. "The model spacecraft uses air bearings so that it moves across the floor with near zero friction. At rest, it seems to be floating, and if you push it in one direction, it will keep going until it hits something, which is what space dynamics are like."

Ragan has programmed the robotic spacecraft simulator with what he and his co-authors call s-FEAST: Safe Fault Estimation via Active Sensing Tree Search. "Our s-FEAST algorithm rapidly 'dreams' about numerous possible futures that could result from actions it takes now," Ragan says.

"Because the system is noisy, these futures are uncertain. There are multiple possible outcomes, which leads to a tree of possible branching futures. Each branch represents one possible way the future might happen, based on things the spacecraft controls—the test actions it selects—and also things it doesn't, such as observations coming from faulty sensors."

Chung adds, "What is innovative about our s-FEAST method is that we systematically solve the chicken and egg problem of estimating vehicle states, such as positions and velocities, and inferring failures or degradations, which are intrinsically coupled to one another."

When the spacecraft detects unexpected data, it turns to the s-FEAST algorithm, which runs test actions "similar to how you might carefully test your muscles when you feel an unexpected pain, and you want to figure out just what hurts and how to avoid actions that might further injure you," Ragan explains.

s-FEAST simultaneously spins out a range of possible futures and from those selects the course of action that appears most likely to diagnose what went wrong and also to avoid danger. In the case of this model, danger amounts to a collision course with an asteroid.

"The key idea here is that s-FEAST isn't replacing all spacecraft operations. It's your emergency response," Ragan says. "The spacecraft receives an internal signal that something is wrong, so s-FEAST takes over all the spacecraft's computing power to quickly assess what's going on and take remedial action. Once the danger is pinpointed and addressed, s-FEAST hands control back to the spacecraft's ordinary computing environment."

s-FEAST can also be used proactively. Say an autonomous spacecraft is about to take on a particularly risky or mission-critical action; s-FEAST can run a testing cycle to ensure that all systems are working properly before this action.

Chung and his co-authors envision that the proposed method will establish a new way of making expensive space exploration safer and more cost effective. "Space systems make autonomous operations necessary since we cannot grab and fix spacecraft and Mars helicopters operating in a world far away from us," Chung says. "Space is our ultimate 'proving ground' for any autonomy research we do for Earth-based vehicle systems."

Not surprisingly, the s-FEAST algorithm that worked on the spacecraft simulator was adapted by the team to work on a ground track vehicle as well. Both experiments were successful, so s-FEAST technology holds great promise for autonomous vehicles on Earth as well as in space.

The research is published in the journal Science Robotics. Co-authors are Ragan, Caltech postdoc Benjamin Rivière, Hadaegh, and Chung.

IMAGE: A close approach to a model comet in the Caltech Autonomous Robotics and Control Lab. This robotic spacecraft simulator mimics a space environment by floating on a low friction cushion of air and using air thrusters to maneuver. In newly published research, this robot is used by researchers at Caltech to demonstrate new capability for safe, real-time, autonomous fault estimation. Credit: Joshua Cho, Sorina Lupu, and James Ragan

[contritecactite]

I'm... not sensitive about my writing. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, and I'm ok with that! There are also teas (real and metaphorical) that many other people like that I don't enjoy! But. (vent below the cut)

There's a lot of history to this that I don't feel like airing, but my first fandom writing partner, who I started writing with almost 15 years ago, recently started trying to entice me into writing with them again. I stopped years ago for many reasons including that I no longer had the impression that we were on the same page as far as the stories we wanted to tell and that I felt they didn't really respect me or take my ideas seriously. I haven't written collaboratively with anyone since because I'm a little gun-shy, as it were, but I loved it SO much when it was good and I've always wanted to find that again.

But I recently let slip that I'm back in fandom pursuits (though different fandoms than we worked in together), and they took it as permission to put even more pressure on me to write with them again. "We're both more mature writers now" and "our old stuff still gets attention!" And today I said, "I really just enjoy working on lighter things at the moment. I'm not really into heavy angst."

And she said, completely genuinely, "Then that balances out perfectly because I tend to write more realistic stuff, which tends to be somewhat heavier."

And I just... feel completely set aside like I did the last time we tried to write together and they scoffed at my ideas and tore up the world I had started building and invited them into. How much would it have cost to say instead, "We can balance each other out well, then, since I enjoy writing angst!" or, even better, to admit that we want to cover different topics and reach different goals and just aren't suited to working together that way for now? Something about being told that happiness and humor, etc. can't be realistic hits way harder for some reason. Ugh.

[apureniallsource]

When you’ve been in one of the biggest boybands in the world, figuring out what life looks like afterwards is no easy feat, especially when it encompassed some of your most formative years. For Niall Horan, though, it seems all too easy. He still lives the pop star life with a sold-out set of shows coming up next year, a whole host of festival performances lined up this summer, and an album that hit number one in the UK just a few weeks ago. Yet off-stage, he’s calm, carefree and so down to Earth that you might not even realise what he does for a living.

If Niall’s work life is about the biggest stages, biggest shows and biggest songs, Niall’s life at home is all about indulging in simple pleasures. Whether it’s bingeing a Netflix true crime series, lighting candles to make hotel rooms feel a bit more like home, or hopping from the gym to the golf course, he keeps himself grounded with a balanced routine and a low-maintenance lifestyle. It’s the perfect antithesis to celebrity life, and it’s helped him maintain the chilled-out vibe that he’s been known for since he was 16.

He might have just been about to fly to LA, but when we speak to Niall he’s as relaxed as they come. He’s still got yesterday’s hair (he proudly shows us how it’s still holding its volume), and he’s lounging in his living room in his gym clothes…

Let’s start with your dressing room. At this point in your career you’re used to being dressed, but how would you describe your own style when you’re at home?

I’d say I’ve got two different styles. One is very casual — I love street and sportswear — and then the other is very influenced by the 1950s and Sinatra. There’s a lot of collars, pressed trousers, penny loafers and that kind of thing. I like putting a modern twist on those old styles, whether that’s adding a more utilitarian jacket or whatever it might be. There’s a touch of ‘90s in there as well.

What about hero pieces?

I just got this vintage army green Gucci coat that’s very militaristic. I’m saving that for something good - can’t just walk to the shop in vintage Gucci, can you? I’m wearing this other, more casual coat at the moment, it’s a big green oversized bomber from Second/Layer. That’s been my go-to. Green goes with most things, so I’ve been wearing that a lot. I try and lean away from it, being Irish, but sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.

I’m big on Reebok Classics. I buy like three or four pairs at a time and just wear them until they get destroyed. They look better the worse they get but there’s a point where it’s like, okay, you might just need to get a new pair of shoes now…

Vintage Levi’s jeans are a big one. I get them online from a place called the 13 Club. Lots of straight-leg denim going on for me at the moment, 505s or 501s. I'm also big into — whether people agree with it or not — double denim. I have this vintage Ralph Lauren denim shirt and I like that with a white T-shirt and some matching jeans. The Canadian tuxedo! I’ve been doing a lot of that.

You’re very into golf. What does your golfwear looking like?

I’ve been trying to '50s up that a little bit too, wearing a slack rather than a golf trouser and a shirt with a bit of that old-school two-tone to it. I say that…I also have a lot of the classic gear that I just throw on because no one’s going to see me on the golf course. I often think that, I overthink what I’m going to wear and then I don’t see anyone for four hours.

For general workouts, I’m obviously a brand advisor and investor for the Irish brand Gym+Coffee. I’m a big fan of all their workout tops, I’m not good on materials but they’re easy to wear and nice and light. They just go with everything. All their shorts are really comfy too, really lightweight stuff that’s easy to wear in the gym. Nothing worse than some of that heavier stuff where you’re sweating out and it’s definitely not pleasant to feel in or to look at.

Moving onto the bathroom and grooming… what’s your routine there?

Yes! My forté! Firstly, I came across these things on Amazon. My groomer showed me them. The orbs that you put in the freezer and use with serum. I just love them! Genetically, I get dark [under]eyes and it’s crazy how good they are. I’ve never had anything work but ice is the answer, it turns out.

Sarah Chapman is the brand I’ve been buzzing about for a couple of years. I do an eye cream, a spray, an intense hydrating serum, moisturiser and SPF — the old Irish skin can’t handle any kind of ray, so that’s a must. I’ve got to watch myself even in the winter. For the evening I’m doing retinol, moisturiser and then a face oil. That keeps me glowing. I do a lot of face masks, I don’t even know if any of this stuff works I just love doing it.

Shampoo is Philip Kingsley. I’ve stopped using conditioner as much but I use a Redken clay to style and a matte paste. I use the Dyson hairdryer — make sure you put that in block capitals and tell them they can send me whatever they want — I absolutely love it. And for aftershaves, it’s Le Labo.

Moving into the kitchen, do you cook much when you’re at home. Do you have a go-to gadget?

I have a Nespresso coffee machine. I kick things off in the morning with an espresso, then the late afternoon coffee is an oat latte or an Americano, it depends on what buzz I need. I don’t get too LA on it. Out there you hear all sorts of stuff…“choco-loco-choco-mocho”. Just drink it, will you?

I do cook a lot. When I’m at home I try and cook for myself but keep it relatively healthy, so I end up doing a lot of Mediterranean-style stuff — salads, chicken, couscous, all that kind of stuff — nothing too complicated until the weekend. I’m no Stanley Tucci.

On a Sunday we’re always doing a Sunday roast. Roast chicken, parsnips, cheesy leeks, cauliflower cheese, potatoes. Love a Sunday roast, it’s my favourite thing. I also make this really simple Italian dish that’s just so good. It’s fried garlic, chilli, onion, squashed tomatoes, spaghetti, smoked bacon and a whole block of parmesan cheese. I don’t even know what it’s called but it’s just magic, it’s just what you want. If I’m in on a Saturday night, that’s what I’m making.

Let’s think about unwinding before bed. What helps you out there?

Candles, always. I always have a candle with me, particularly Diptyque Fig and Oud. I usually like softer fragrances: Le Labo Santal is also a favourite. I actually travel with candles - hotel rooms, dressing rooms, just to give them a homely feel. The only problem with that being that once you blow it out you have to sit around and wait for it to dry before shoving it back in your bag.

I always listen to green noise before bed. When I concentrate on that I can just doze right off, and I do a pre-bed face mask every two or three nights. And I do watch a lot of TV in bed… which is not good. It’s always ‘oh just one more episode’ and then before you know it it’s half one in the morning. I love ‘24 Hours in Police Custody’. We watch a lot of true crime and all those American Netflix series. Name it, we’ve seen it.

Thinking about your living room, what do you do to unwind there of an evening or afternoon?

There’s a piano in the living room and I spend a lot of time with that. That’s where I do a lot of writing. I wrote probably a third of my new album on that piano, sat at home during the lockdown. There’s a guitar on a stand next to it and sometimes I’ll wander over there when I’m half watching TV. I’ve got a Fender Telecaster and a Gibson 335 that I play a lot, a big old red thing. My acoustic is from an Irish brand called Lowden, myself and Lewis [Capaldi] went to their factory on our Amazon show, and I’ve been into them for eight or nine years. Maybe I need a green one…I’ll be a walking leprechaun in no time.

I listen to a lot of music; I’ve got this big JBL boombox, it’s class. It’s got a big handle on it and I take it everywhere. I’ve also got a vinyl player, I listen to a lot of vinyl. People are always asking me what I’m listening to at the moment and it’s never anything new. It’s always the old stuff that I just love…in fact, I just rotate the same fifteen or so vinyls. Old head, young shoulders, I suppose.