#and my brain decided to connect those two neurons

[sttoru]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⟣ sypnosis. you had been in your first ever relationship with suguru for a couple months now. neither of you have taken your relationship to the next level; suguru was extremely patient and never brought the topic of sex up until you one day decide you were ready.

⟣ note. first fic for my event :3 i spent way too much time on this fic so it turned out very detailed, long, romantic and fluffy. i hope you all enjoy and appreciate it teehee. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk ! wc: around 6.1k

⟣ tags. soft dom!geto suguru x virgin!female reader. fluff + smut. slow burn. age gap (reader 20-ish, suguru around 29/30), little talks about insecurity, loss of virginity, breast play, edging, teasing, fingering, lots of praise, dirty talk, size difference!, p in v — unprotected (dont b like reader and use protection please), creampie, aftercare, suguru’s really romantic and just a softie for u, suguru being a good ‘dad’ to mimiko and nanako and teeny tiny bits of him secretly being a pervert.

never in a million years had suguru expected his girlfriend to be so upfront about such a big, personal decision. the thought of having you say those words had never crossed his mind.

“can you repeat that for me, sweetheart?”

could you blame him for asking you to clarify the words you’ve uttered? that man has seen you as an oblivious and innocent woman ever since the start of your relationship. of course, unbeknownst to him, your thoughts were anything but that.

you may be a virgin, but your mind was a place for the most lewd and nasty thoughts. it’s just that you’ve been scared of being intimate with a man—it’s frightening, especially when having heard the many online stories about how badly it could hurt. some say that such descriptions were over exaggerating, however your inexperience still lead you to believe everything you’ve read about the topic.

and then you started dating an older man named suguru. you’ve met him by chance at a mall in kyoto and he was the first one who approached the other. you remember how suguru politely asked you for some advice regarding what type of presents he should get for ‘two teenage girls’. of course, you agreed to helping him out and that’s how you two eventually ended up brainstorming about possible ideas in a cozy café.

once seated, chosen drinks in both your hands, you asked the man whether the gifts were meant for his daughters. somehow, that’s the first connection the neurones in your brain had made once suguru told you about the two teenagers he was picking out presents for.

you remember it vividly; the sweet, gentle sound of the laughter that accounted as your answer, the eyes of the then stranger looking rather nostalgic as they stared into the liquid in his cup. suguru responded vaguely; “i guess you could say that, yes.”

that little ‘date’—if you could call it that—ended on a wholesome note. suguru thanked you for your time and made sure that you safely got into the train you needed to take home. he did want to offer you a car ride, however he kept that question to himself since he knew that no woman would voluntarily agree to be taken home by a stranger. even if suguru had the purest of intentions.

there were a couple more dates that followed after that one; all where you both gradually got to know each other better. you’ve found out so much about suguru—the details about his own life being both fascinating and sad at the same time. likewise, suguru had also learned much about you. he always shows great interest in what you tell him, even if it’s a minuscule detail. he remembers it all as well—a feature which caused you to feel funny things in your stomach.

you realised you were catching feelings for that mysterious yet sweet and loving man; it was inevitable. the way he makes you giggle, his respectful and easygoing manner of speaking, the slight touches you two shared on accident.. all of it added to your little crush.

however, you didn’t actually think suguru was falling for you too. you only met up for a few times, plus, you seem out of his league—both due to your age gap and difference in the things you’re pursuing at the time. you were in college, trying to get your degree whilst he already had a job as a powerful leader of an organisation and was trying to achieve one of many goals with them.

there’s not a chance he’d like you, right?

wrong. you were confessed to a couple weeks after your first meeting and have been in a relationship for over 4 months now. it still felt like a dream; having your first boyfriend be such a gentleman. it truly felt like you already met the love of your life whenever he was near.

suguru’s been nothing but sweet and caring to you, has never asked you to engage in any sexual activities nor even ever dared to touch you in places you haven’t consented to. the furthest you’ve gone in terms of intimacy in those four months, were make-out sessions. just some tongue action here and there—adding sprinkles of neck kisses and hickeys.

there were times where you wanted to let things escalate, however you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to ask your lover. suguru wasn’t the person to decide your feelings for you either—if there was no verbal consent coming from your lips, he’s not going any further. even if he wanted to as well.

you were grateful that suguru was that willing to wait for you, no matter how long it might take. not only were you anxious of the possible pain the sex would bring, but it was partially due to the fact that your lover was much more experienced in that field.

what if you were lacking? what if it wasn’t satisfactory enough for him and he’d eventually leave you for it? it’s obvious that suguru wasn’t the type of man to actually do that, however you couldn’t stop the many possibilities from running free in your brain.

your change of mind was rather spontaneous; it was today when you suddenly came up with your final decision. you were staying over at suguru’s, the sun was out and he was sitting on his balcony, reading a book whilst sipping on his coffee. what caught your eye was his bare back and the muscles which were on display to you.

suguru was shirtless and the seams of light were making his skin glisten—the view making your own body hot and bothered. you bit your lip and approached your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before kissing his neck. that skin-to-skin contact made you sure of your decision; you needed him. in more ways than one.

that’s how you ended up saying what you said. the statement left suguru baffled since you uttered it in his ear out of the blue. he couldn’t deny one thing however; the idea certainly did send a shiver of excitement down his spine.

“i said,” you repeat with a little mischievous grin, leaning in closer to your lover once he turned around to face you properly—as if searching for any hints that your words were indeed not his imagination, “i wanna lose my virginity to you.”

it wasn’t. you actually said it—the words that would take your relationship a step further. although, suguru couldn’t help but wonder where your sudden decision came from. his hands found their way to yours and he held onto them like they were two delicate flowers.

“i’m happy to hear that, though i’m curious,” your lover starts off carefully as he places chaste yet soft kisses on your palms, “why so sudden?”

you shrug nonchalantly like you didn’t feel that twinge of nervousness in the back of your mind as you felt suguru’s lips on your skin. ‘it really was happening now, was it?’—that kind of feeling was the cause of your subtle anxiousness.

“well, ehh— you just looked good.. sitting there.. i guess.” you mumble, voice trailing off in embarrassment whilst your eyes darted around the balcony in attempt to avoid suguru’s gaze. your flustered expression and adorable confession makes him laugh gently. it was not a mocking laugh at all—more of an amused one;

“just when i thought you couldn’t get any cuter..” the long-haired man muses, the locks of his bangs grazing ever so slightly against your hands as he keeps holding them, “you never fail to surprise me, do you know that?”

suguru had a way with words that made you weak in the knees. or maybe it’s simply because he’s shirtless and kissing your palms so romantically. you don’t know which one it was.

“but, love,” suguru continues carefully as he stands up, your eyes following his as he towers over you, “are you a hundred percent sure? i don’t want to do anything you aren’t comf—“

“yes.” your answer cut your boyfriend off and he’s left in shock once more. your eyes were filled with determination, yet the faint glint of nervousness in them didn’t escape suguru’s sight. you’ve given your verbal consent and are even the first one to suggest the idea— what more could he ask of you?

there hung a silence between you two, the breeze blowing through suguru’s dark locks making him look even more majestic than he already was. you had no doubt about it; today was going to be the day. it had to be.

“then, if you’d let me have this,” his low voice sounded more sensual than it had ever been as his hand found its place on your cheek, fingertips rubbing against your ear, thumb softly pressing onto your skin—

a slow and romantic kiss followed straight afterwards. it had caught you slightly off guard, even when knowing fully well that this was what you were longing for.

his lips moved in tandem against yours, the soft touch making you feel certain emotions that you hadn’t even thought existed. this man whom you called your lover had never been unable to expose you to new sensations. and soon, he’ll grant you another one. a much pleasurable one.

one arm circled your waist, the other held up, hand on the back of your head to deepen the passion-filled kiss you shared. his lips parted your lightly trembling ones, the tips of your tongues attentively rubbing against one another as if to test the waters; was it fine to go further? are we actually doing this?

you were. it was set in stone as your throat formed soft noises of satisfaction, shaky breaths being exchanged by the two lovers on the balcony—not one of you realising that the weather was changing in the background. the sun was setting, creating the perfect mood for the situation as you were still engrossed by each other’s moves and touches.

it was only for the sake of catching your breath that you had pulled away. your cheeks felt hot, as did your entire body which was still pressed against suguru’s—chest to chest. the proximity was one you both had enjoyed many moments before, however this instant was unlike any other. you both knew as you stared at each other in silence, your quick breaths doing the talking instead.

“will you let me..” the voice of which you have grown to adore spoke to you, the owner grasping your attention once more by holding onto your hand. suguru’s fingers smoothly slid across your skin until they found the puzzle they were meant to complete—that being the gaps between your own fingers. once your hands were tightly intertwined, the man finishes his sentence;

“will you let me love you?”

his face was still close to yours as he uttered those beautiful words to you, warm breath lightly fanning the thin strands of hair on your cheeks to the side, lips subconsciously trying to brush against yours once more. but, they could wait. they could wait until the agreement leaves your mouth.

“of course.” the answer escapes before you could even register it properly. this makes suguru smile against your lips as he captured them in another sweet kiss. he muttered a small ‘thank you’ and then swept your legs off the floor—strong arms placed under your thighs to hold you up against his body whilst the hungry kisses continue.

suguru doesn’t know how he got there; carrying you over to his bed, settling you down onto the soft mattress, his body caging yours underneath him, eyes fluttering over every detail of your exposed skin. he hadn’t had you like this ever before; he hadn’t had you in his bed for a reason as sinful as this, only ever for cuddles or sleep.

“you’re beautiful.” the dark-haired man whispers as he carefully takes off the clothing covering your figure—the gorgeous skin his hands still have yet to explore. suguru can’t remember the last time he has treated anyone like this; like a treasure he’s had the honour to find and keep to himself. there hasn’t been a single woman in his life that he’s cared for this much—you’re the only one capable of mellowing him and his heart.

“stunning,” another compliment; another breath spent to praise you. your lover’s fingers teased the edges of your bra, lips kissing down your collarbone and towards the centre of your chest—each touch being done with precision. your bra became undone a second later and you let the straps fall of your arms, all the way until your breasts were fully revealed.

suguru’s breath hitches, mouth forming more saliva than in any previous instants, the liquid being pushed down his throat with a gulp. you didn’t have the chance to feel conscious of yourself in a moment like this; the dim light of the bedside lamp shone on suguru’s face, his lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva whilst his gaze was lingering on the new sight in front of him—he was utterly obsessed.

“may i?” his hands were already reaching out for the plump flesh and they came in touch once you nodded shyly. his palms were warm as they kneaded your breasts and his fingers brushed against your nipples, which made you whimper from how sensitive they were now that someone else has finally touched them.

suguru took notice of your reaction and put pressure on both small buds once again, thumbs rubbing your areolas in circular motions, “that good, princess?”

“mhmm— y-yes,” you mutter through a moan. your body was pushed further onto the mattress as your lover put more of his weight on you, your entire chest area getting covered by licks and kisses, slow and deliberate ones that left you yearning for more. suguru’s eyes gazed up at yours for consent once his parted lips hovered just above your sensitive nipples, his breath on them alone making you squirm already.

with another nod, suguru wasted no time taking one nipple into his warm mouth—wetting it with his saliva as his tongue slid around the area. his long fingers squeezed, twisted and pulled on your other nipple to give you both stimulations at once.

“mm, so good.” his muffled voice caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. suguru slowly lets his lips travel across your tits, sucking on them, even kissing down the curves until he reaches your torso. he gives that area the same amount of love and attention whilst your fingers were tangled around his smooth, long hair. suguru clearly seemed to enjoy the sensations; he let out small moans and hums against your bare skin to indicate that you should continue playing and tugging at his locks.

his tongue abruptly came to a stop right above the waistline of your panties—the barrier he was about to reach past for the first time. the hesitation was visible in his body language, however his fingers eventually tugged at the fabric, preparing to take it off.

your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched suguru slowly pull the last piece of cloth away. your thighs pressed together on instinct, stopping your panties from exposing your bare cunt.

“should i stop?” suguru asks with a raised eyebrow, fingers pulling away from your underwear now that he’s seen you close your legs. you didn’t want him to stop—it’s just the nerves that made your body move on its own command;

“please— no,” you shake your head, biting your lip as you swallowed your own saliva out of pure desire. you craved him now that it’s come this far, “need you. need you so bad, suguru.”

those words caused suguru’s brain to shut down. any irrelevant thoughts were thrown out of the window; the only thing his mind was telling him to do, was to take care of your needs. your body was laid out on his bed—trusting eyes looking up at his in anticipation, pretty hands grasping onto his sheets like it’d calm you down.

“i’m all yours, sweetheart.” suguru sighs, fingertips slightly shaking as he pulls your panties down to your ankles, eyes pausing on the revelation. to say that suguru was simply rendered speechless, was an understatement. that man was on the verge of letting loose of any self-control and just dive his face right between your thighs, eating you out like he’s fantasised of doing for a while now.

“fuck.” your boyfriend closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before opening them to smile down at you—the handsome smile that was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him, “i’ll be careful. i promise.”

naturally, you nodded along. you’ve built up enough trust between one another during the past few months to let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. the palm of his hands patted your thighs slightly before spreading them apart, once again showing your glistening folds, a slight wetness to them from your own arousal.

suguru couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. he’d already have devoured your dripping cunt if it wasn’t for his self-control. but, it was your first time. he couldn’t rush into things just yet.

“thank you, baby.” the dark-haired man whispered under his breath. he was showing his gratitude for the sight you allowed him to see—a sight only he had ever seen before. the only man to be able to witness the beauty before him. that fact alone made his eyes darken in lust ever so slightly.

his fingers carefully slid across your vulva, your bodily fluid coating the skin which makes him shiver and his fingers get bolder. the cute sounds that filled his ears were only making this even better for him.

the way your hips bucked up slightly into his touch—just asking for suguru to take you right then and there—was driving him insane. every vein in his body felt like it could pop with how much he was restraining his own self from acting out of line. his finger easily slid into the little hole and suguru almost couldn’t believe it; your pussy was clamping down on his finger, your insides tightly wrapped around him to the point that even he wouldn’t know if his dick would fit in.

“hnnngh, suguru, please— wan’ your cock already,” that dirty sounding sentence was one he didn’t expect to hear from a virgin. it made him shake his head with a small, delighted chuckle; you really never failed to surprise him.

“i know you do,” suguru purrs, pressing kisses against the curves of your tits whilst another finger of his joined to stretch your pussy out properly, “but i need to prep you enough if you wanna take my cock. can you be patient for me, sweetheart?”

“m’kay. gonna try..” his fingers pumped in and out of you, the feeling of them curling up deep inside you made your walls squeeze against them. you’ve played with yourself before, of course, however it was then that you discovered that nothing could ever compare to the real thing: suguru’s long and slightly girthy fingers.

just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, you felt a third finger—not inside you--but on your clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves like you could’ve never done to yourself. suguru was so precise and exact with his actions which showed his experience. that’s another reason of why you’ve put all your trust in him. getting your virginity taken by a sweet, older and experienced man was probably ten times better than losing it to any guy your age, who were probably only out for sex.

suguru was there to make love to you.

your back arched once you felt suguru’s fingers increase their pace, the wet and squelchy sounds echoing through the room as they got louder the more your pussy got played with, his thumb almost overstimulating your clit to the point of release already—that’s how superb your lover’s hand movements were.

“no, no. can’t have you cum on my fingers like that.” you whine once you felt suguru take his fingers back the same moment you were about to reach your first orgasm by someone else’s hands. the older man smirks at this and kisses you on the lips, pulling away slowly with your bottom lip between his teeth, letting it lightly flop back into place as he lets go; “i wanna have you cum together with me, okay?”

you couldn’t refuse such a romantic request, thus you nod. suguru smiles back at you once more before his hands move to take off his sweatpants, tossing the piece of clothing to the side. your eyes widened as you were propped on your elbows, gaze lingering on the massive bulge formed at the crotch area, his boxers not hiding much of the shape.

once the underwear was off as well—that’s when you realised that your underlying anxiousness was not for nothing. suguru’s cock sprung free, it was slightly curved near his pink tip, drops of pre-cum flowing down the length. you haven’t ever seen a dick in real life, only ever on the internet, so this had left you stunned. you didn’t know what the average size was for a man, but there’s one thing you knew for sure: suguru was definitely way above the average size.

“cat got your tongue, princess?” he teased, his hand absentmindedly pumping his cock to the sight of your naked body underneath him. suguru didn’t even know that he started doing that in front of you; it was out of pure instinct. he couldn’t hide the excitement in his body, his shaft twitching in his hand as if it desperately wanted to feel your tight cunt around it.

“uhm, s-suguru..” you stammer a bit, biting your lip as your eyes followed his hand motions which got faster once your sweet voice called out to him. something about you looking a tad bit intimidated by his size made him want to destroy your insides to mush—have you beg him to fuck you as he bullies his whole length into your poor, small cunt.

“i know, i know..” suguru reassures you, free hand giving you a few consoling head pats, “i’ll try to make it as less painful as possible, okay?”

you hum and watch how your lover settles between your legs, spreading them enough to kneel before you, upper body bending forward to place soft pecks on your forehead; he was encouraging and preparing you more in his own way.

your arms instantly wrapped around his back, sweaty palms set underneath his shoulder blades—you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, just waiting on that moment. that feeling you’ve been craving, yet also have been avoiding.

you waited for a bit, however the only sounds heard and sensations felt were the slight dent in the mattress near one side of your body, the bed creaking faintly. suguru was leaning on side of his body, one arm stretched out to open a drawer, apparently searching for a condom.

once you realised what he was doing, you shook your head and tapped his back twice to regain suguru’s attention. his gaze immediately flickered over to yours and his head tilted to the side in curiosity; “i want the full experience—no condom, please.”

his eyes widened at the request. you seemed to be dead serious, eyes glinting determinedly, lips forming a little pout— it was impossible to refuse you, although suguru knew that he had to play the role of the older, more wise and experienced lover in the back of his mind.

he parted his lips to list off the reasons why you should let him use a condom, yet the words died on his tongue. you were impossible to say ‘no’ to. not when you’re looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

suguru prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock, circling the hole and wetting it more by using a mixture of his pre-cum and your own arousal. you took another deep breath and tried your best to hold tightly onto your boyfriend, arms wrapped tightly around his back with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck—bracing for impact.

“tell me if it hurts too much,” suguru whispers in your ear, leaving one last kiss on your temples before pushing his hips forward, folds stretching out and apart to allow his cock through and into your pussy.

did it hurt like you expected? yes. it most certainly did. maybe even worse than you were prepared for.

“fuck— nhhh, fuckfuckfuck!” you hiss whilst your nails dig into the skin of suguru’s back, probably leaving red marks because of how much you’re clinging onto him—like your life depened on it. that’s quite literally what it felt like to you; body being forced to part and make way for suguru inside you, pussy feeling like it was burning by how big of a stretch it was to fit him in—if he actually would be able to push all of his inches into your tight hole.

“sshh, shh, it’s okay, try to relax for me, yeah?” your lover comforts you the best he could, stilling his movements for a couple seconds before gently slipping his cock further into you. it pained him to see the discomfort written over your face, however you hadn’t made any clear signs of wanting this to come to a halt. in fact, you were encouraging him to continue whenever he stopped at any indication of hurt.

“i can take it.. p-promise,” you manage to moan out. suguru breathed in deeply at your words and nodded, kissing your lips in hopes to distract you from any pain you’re feeling, “you’re too good to me, sweetheart. really.”

both of you exhaled deeply as suguru finally bottomed out, a long minute of reassurance and pushing now behind your back. your eyes had watered up a little, chest heaving as you tried to accommodate to the new feeling inside of you.

“take your time.” suguru utters gently, voice sultry and sweet whenever its directed at you. his lips graze against your cheeks, smothering the area with pecks to take your mind off anything else. the locks of black hair tickle your chin and nose, the hairtie that usually kept a good chunk of his hair in a bun now out of sight.

suguru hadn’t taken anyone’s virginity before and that’s what also made this opportunity special to him. he didn’t know how to thank you with words, so he showed his gratitude throughout his actions; lips kissing your shiny tears away, moving across your face to your forehead and eventually to your own round lips which had formed a cute pout.

you could feel suguru smile against your mouth, his tongue gently tracing the outline of your lips whilst mumbling words of affection and praise; “you’re taking it so well, baby. such a good girl for me— love you so much.”

you giggled lightly at your lover’s appreciative remarks, focusing on returning the kiss instead of the tingling feeling in your lower body. you pulled away after a bit and looked up at him with nothing but pure adoration; “i love you too, suguru.”

if suguru had the ability to freeze time, he’d want to do it during this moment, just to relive this bit over and over. he’s sure that this exact instant will be engraved into his memory for the many years to come.

and once you’ve given him the green light to move, he did it with caution, slowly but surely. his hips moved back and then forwards, girthy cock dragging along your walls at a leisurely pace, but just enough to make your pain transform into pleasure.

suguru’s big hands were placed on your hips, sometimes they’d leave their position to cup your chin and make you face him. he doesn’t want you to look away from his eyes; he’ll think you don’t like this if you do. besides, the thing he loves most about being in the missionary position, is that he’s able to hear how good he’s making you feel whilst looking into your eyes to see your face scrunch up in satisfaction. it’s so romantic and perfect. just like you.

“my little princess is so pretty.” suguru sighs in content and kisses your tears away, thrusting into your tight cunt in a comfortable pace—not too fast but not too slow, “the way you take my cock and still manage to look beautiful while doing it— you’re incredible.”

if the physical pleasure wasn’t enough, his added commentary would certainly be. you moan and whimper phrases that sound like his name over and over again; you didn’t know what else to say as your mind was foggy with the amazing sensations your body was experiencing for the first time. that was fine with suguru since all he wants was to see you enjoy yourself—this moment was for you. everything he did was for you—every thrust, every kiss, every touch.

“nhhg, too good, so good!” you mewl and leave more scratch marks across suguru’s back, ones which he didn’t mind at all. it only served as further proof of this special moment. the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of your insides, puffy folds parted widely to make room for more of his length until it felt like he actually was balls deep.

“mhm—you’re, haah, tight..” the once calm and collected man seemed to let loose of himself the more he felt your cunt swallow him all the way, gripping onto his dick as if you didn’t want to ever let go. suguru grunts and moves down to leave a couple hickeys across your neck, hips non-stop pushing against yours, “don’t think i can last long—fuck, yeah—you feel amazing, baby.”

your eyes roll back as the pleasure seems to build up in your stomach as well. it felt like a coil that threatened to snap at any moment and it’d release another immense wave of pleasure upon breaking. your body was on fire, sweaty and hot, just like suguru’s.

“can you cum with me, princess? can you wait and hold on for me?” he asks, and the questions sound impossible, however you could at least try your best to fulfil his desires. you’d also want nothing more than to reach your peak together with the man you loved.

“okay—mmhh—together.” you nod and your body tenses up, legs subconsciously moving to wrap around suguru’s waist, heels of your feet simultaneously tapping against his lower back along with his hip movements. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out for as your breathing patterns changes, whiney gasps and choked up moans escaping the back of your throat as your clit bumps against his pelvis over and over.

“almost, almost—“ suguru curses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while yours did the opposite. your body rocked back and forth and the bed felt like it was shaking along as well. you could tell by the way suguru’s hips rolled against yours that he was close—his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes half-lidded but not closed to still hold contact with yours and his hands clutched onto your waist. all indications of his nearing climax.

“mnph, gonna cum— shit, shit, shit, i’m gonna cum—“ suguru swears under his breath a couple times more before snapping back into reality at the last few seconds. he realised once again that he didn’t have a condom on, so his first rational thought was to pull out and finish himself outside of your body.

you were also nearing your own orgasm, not thinking rationally due to the intensity of the moment, any other thoughts except for the man on top of you were thrown out of the window. you felt suguru try to pull his twitching and throbbing cock out before it could spurt its cum inside of your dripping cunt.

you whined and shook your head, pulling suguru in for a deep kiss while tightening the grasp your legs had around his hips; “w-want to feel you cum in me— want you to fill me up while i finish too.”

suguru’s breath caught in his throat, almost choking on his own saliva from your bold requests. his only rational thought instantly vanished from his mind, now all that’s left was pure love, pleasure and desire. the mental image of his cum spilling and filling your pussy to the brim drove him to the edge.

“all yours, i’m going to give it all to you, princess, yeah? fuck !” both of you relinquished in the feeling of bliss, the warmth and build up reaching its designated ending— the expected waves of pleasure washing over you both. series of soft moans, whimpers and groans filled the room as your pussy was flooded with lots of hot cum.

it was like suguru hadn’t came in years—that’s how incredible that orgasm was experienced by the dark-haired male. the same thing goes for you; your legs were shaking, hips squirming up in aftershocks as you squeezed down on suguru’s cock, quite literally milking him dry of every drop.

“nhh, haah— suguru, love,” your tired and powerless whispers caught his attention immediately. your trembling hand held onto his cheek in attempt to make him look at you. suguru’s fingers curled around your wrist, turning your hand away from his face and to the side so he’ll have access to your palm. his lips left a ticklish trail of pecks on them until his mouth found its home: your lips.

the two of you exchanged deep, exhausted breaths, your boyfriend eventually pulling out and rolling onto his side to cradle you into his arms—hand placed on the back of your head to rest your body against his chest. the following seconds were spent cuddling as you tried to regain composure.

“you were amazing.” suguru sighs, chin resting on top of your head whilst his hand rubbed your bare back in comfort, “are you okay, sweetheart? nothing feeling off or anything of that sorts?”

you shake your head and snuggle up against your lover, content with how things are right now. the afterglow of your little session—of your first time, made you happier than ever. you couldn’t believe it’d feel this good. maybe it’s due to the one you’ve lost your virginity to.

“i’m okay.” you mumble and lift your head up to look suguru in the eyes, faces only inches away from each other. there were no words in the dictionary that could describe how you two felt. the closest word to explain it would be flawless.

“i’m glad, baby. thank you for trusting me.” suguru flashes you a small smile and strokes your head. you stay like that, bodies intertwined in a deep and comfortable hug, whispers of sweet nothings filling your ears and subtle gestures of love making you feel secure.

a couple minutes later and suguru noticed how you started to doze off. he chuckled to himself before pulling away from your hug and standing up, only to have you pout and complain about the loss of warmth.

“i’m just going to clean you up, love.” the soft-spoken man utters to you, laughing quietly at the adorable state you were in at the moment. you were so dependent on him.

“should i prepare us a warm, relaxing bubble bath as well?” he asks, squatting down near the edge of his bed and taking your hands in his, maintaining eye contact as per usual.

“that’d be nice.” you nod and feel your eyelids close slowly, “can’t promise i won’t fall asleep, though.”

suguru lets out a soft exhale through his nose, corner of his lips curling upwards at your little comment. he couldn’t believe he ended up dating such an unbelievably wonderful girl. it’s a blessing in his life of curses.

“i’ll make sure to at least clean you up if you do fall asleep, don’t worry. you’re safe with me.”

you were sure he was an angel sent down from heaven. it was more than clear to you—even if it may not be to many others out there.

“thank you, suguru.” you murmur as your body relaxes into the soft mattress, “i love you.”

“i love you too. more than you could imagine.”

#ෆ : choose your fate. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk x you #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #jjk fic

[overgrownmoon]

my headcanon iterator designs! finally, in one place and rendered out nicely!!! get ready for the rambling under the cut i have many ideas

okay i love the simplistic design of rainworld creatures but i also love weird alien wacky designs so thats what i tried to go for here; a mix of strange alien bio-robots but aesthetically pleasing enough to look friendly. i think the iterator puppets arent the entirety of the iterator; they are also their can, of course, but the puppet is the "face" of the structure, as well as an important part of the biological aspect of iterators.

i think the puppets arent completely artificial. i think they are highly derived, highly modified purposed organisms made to fulfill a few requirements; be a friendly and relatable design for the citizens to be able to interact with the iterator, personify the iterator as a real living being and not just a box, and, most importantly, to house the biological brain that allows the supercomputer to be actually truly alive.

the brain inside the puppet is the part that gives the entire structure personality, intelligence, emotion, and everything else a biological brain can do that a computer cannot. almost the entirety of the brains ability to process information and think logically is outsourced to the structure via the umbilical wires. the neural cortex we see in game is the computer brain that is capable of all those calculations and simulations and all the amazing things iterators can. these two brains interact via the umbilical in a feedback loop of continuous information, working as one mind.

without the umbilical wire, the puppet is reduced to a normal beings brain; which is to say, they can speak and think, but lose access to their long term memory storage, their advanced logical processing power, and pretty much everything that makes them a god-like supercomputer. the only connection left in that case is through the neurons, which can interface between the puppet and structure as a lose tether of information(which is why moon is able to interact with her structure post rivulet even though the umbilical is still severed. the neurons each keep a copy of the iterators information to backup and pass though the structure, like a living usb, and moon can use them to access a smaller scale version of her former computational power).

the arm of the puppet acts both as a mobility device though low gravity and feeds nutrients to the puppet body as an outsourced digestive and circulatory system. the puppet itself does not have a complete digestive and circulatory system because of this.

i think the iterators should be like bugs, and so they are! they have a hard exoskeleton made of chitin and an open circulatory system. most of their interior is muscle and electronics to support the puppet's systems. various sensors to monitor health, gyroscopes to stay upright, electronics to read pearls and receive broadcasts (i think their antenna are both ears for sound and ears for electromagnetic waves). they have compound eyes for extremely good vision and a voice modulator allows them to speak.

one thing that always bothered me about the puppet design is that they have legs, and yet live in no gravity and are attached to a mobile arm. why would they need to walk? i decided that the people who built them decided to keep the legs for aesthetic reasons, but made them functionally useless. the legs are atrophied and could not actually support the puppet's weight. earlier generations, like moon, have more normal proportions and less atrophied legs; later generations get more and more stylized and streamlined, as we can see with pebble's more extreme proportions and extremely thin legs. you can also see a thick audio cable on the older models that pebbles doesnt have, and visible joints that are smoothly covered on pebbles.

the production of iterators may have been somewhat standardized, but we do know that different iterators can have different designs based on their creators taste. frankly, i love headcanoning NSH as being big and chunky while pebbles is a little twig. i plan to draw my interpretations for suns, inno, and wind too in the future.

so, yea! puppets! theyre fucked up and would struggle to survive detached from their structure completely because they are pugs and cannot survive outside of their domesticated lives.

#clownponderings #rain world #rain world headcanons #art #look at my robot bugs !!! look!!!

[pxayopina-unilsiyu]

My thoughts and theories on Eywa

I have many a thought about Eywa, what exactly she is, and how she functions, so I decided to condense it all into one post.

1. What is Eywa?

There are, generally speaking, two answers to this question. The first is that Eywa is a physical force; “she” is a neural network created by the interconnectedness of Pandora. This connection can’t be understated: as Grace says in the first film, there are more connections between plant life on Pandora than there are connections in the human brain. These connections between the roots of the plants of Pandora can transmit electrical signals between one another like the synapses between neurons in your brain. Put simply: Eywa is everywhere on Pandora, Eywa is Pandora, and most importantly: Eywa can think. Pandora is a giant, completely organic brain. 

It doesn’t end with just the plant life, though, because the fauna of Na’vi also have a part to play here. Using the brain analogy, think of the plant life and their roots system like, again, the synapses and neurons of your brain. They are the physical structure of Eywa. But your brain is more than just its physical structure: you have memories, thoughts, emotions, and a sense of self. This is where the fauna come into play. The animals of Pandora, including (and especially) the Na’vi, can directly connect to Eywa and, in doing so, upload and download their own brain data. They can transmit their memories, thoughts, feelings, etc. into Eywa and essentially create a copy of their own consciousness which persists within Eywa after their death, stored within sites like the Tree of Voices and the consciousness at large. This is (what I believe to be) the reason Eywa can think, reason, and interact with Pandora. Without this, Eywa would be a rudimentary albeit still impressive nervous system of sorts. 

Now comes the other answer to the question: Eywa is also a mythological deity to the Na’vi. They understand the neural network to be Eywa and consider her the source of all energy that runs through all living things, which isn’t necessarily wrong. Which is what makes their belief system so interesting: they understand all of the facets of Eywa and to an extent, what makes it possible, but they also have a spiritual view of her. They don’t worship her as a god or creator of the world, but they honor her for giving them life. Eywa is made up of all living things, but the Na’vi seemingly also believe Eywa to be her own being. I wouldn’t say that’s wrong, either, for reasons I’ll now explain.

2. Who is Eywa?

So, about Eywa being an actual... being, I think that that is also correct, but not in the conventional sense. We must consider that Eywa can reason, think, and make decisions. She communicates those decisions to the Na’vi through communion with them (which is interpreted by the Tsahìk) and physical ‘omens’ like the woodsprites/atokirina’. But what exactly is it that’s sending those messages? This is my theory of how it works.

Eywa is not her own being separate from the neural network: rather, the neural network is Eywa. Seems obvious, I already explained it up there! But let me clarify. 

Eywa making a decision is, in my view, actually all of the consciousnesses within Eywa - the animals, the plants, the spirits of the Na’vi - coming together to make the decision. When Eywa must make a choice, all of the consciousnesses within the network ‘discuss’ it and give their opinion on what should be done. Through process of deliberation, all of the unpopular opinions and votes are rooted out until a clear consensus is reached. Remember, Eywa is like a computer or a brain, so all of this reasoning could be done in seconds. If you’ve ever played the Mass Effect games, I imagine Eywa working almost identically to the geth (just organically and without platforms to operate from), or, if you’ve read the books, like the Psy Network in Zodiac.

Once Eywa has decided on what should be done, she sends a message to the Na’vi - like when she saved Jake by sending the woodsprites to land on Neytiri’s bow and then totally cover him when she still didn’t get the memo. Eywa recognized that Jake was needed to help protect the Na’vi and herself from the RDA. This may also explain how Eywa could reason that the Na’vi industrializing would lead to their ultimate collapse - with so many consciousnesses stored within her, it would make her hyperintelligent. Think about how when you’re with a group of people and you pose a question to them, they might all have a slightly different answer or explanation; you can find the mean of those explanations and be left with the most accurate, objective conclusion. It’s called collective reasoning. Multiply that by 1 gazillion and you can see how it makes sense that Eywa is so intelligent she borders on omnipotent.

3. How is Eywa?

Now, quickly worth noting, is that Eywa also has a lot of strange properties and abilities that we don’t really understand yet. Such as the abovementioned ability to somehow sense that Jake had the hutzpah to help the Na’vi and that he would defect to them, despite not really knowing Jake at all (Although this may be partially explained by the collective reasoning as explained above). Also, her rallying the animals to protect her at the Tree of Souls - it’s not really clear if she took control of their minds and just piloted them - I do not believe this is the case myself, it seems incredibly unlikely and I think the animals chose to fought of their own volition because they recognized the threat, but then it leaves the door open to the possibility that Eywa can somehow communicate to Pandora’s inhabitants even when they aren’t directly connected to her, because I seriously doubt all those damn animals were connected to her all at once. Yet they somehow all received the same memo that Eywa was about to be blown up and they should go stop that from happening. There’s a sense of some mechanic there where Eywa’s thoughts can travel beyond the physical connections through Pandora’s electromagnetism, but it’s really not that clear.

4. Why is Eywa?

Okay, so how did Eywa develop? Why doesn’t Earth have its own Eywa? According to Visual Exploration, Pandora’s electromagnetism is mostly to blame for it. Earth simply doesn’t have the same strong electromagnetism that allows for conduction of information as fast as it happens on Pandora. It was very specific circumstances that led to her formation and subsequent development. Notice I say formation and development, because I do not believe Eywa spawned being as intelligent as she is. Which leads to the next point:

5. When is Eywa?

Okay, so admittedly, most of this theory formed as a way of explaining those silly Three Laws of Eywa in Visual Exploration, although I think the main premise makes total sense. The idea is that Eywa developed with Pandora in terms of intelligence - although she was always at least a few steps ahead of it simply due to sheer numbers. The big point here is that Eywa might not have been intelligent when Na’vi first emerged as a species. Instead, Eywa might’ve only started to develop true intelligence past an animalistic sense of self-preservation after Na’vi started connecting to her, uploading their memories and consciousnesses to her. They probably didn’t even realize that was what they were doing and at first thought of Eywa as just a quirk of nature that did funny things to your brain like acid shrooms or static electricity. But in reality, they were developing Eywa. Then, one day, Eywa “woke up” and started being able to reason and make decisions. That is when Eywa, bestowed with newfound intelligence and an ability to express the destruction the Na’vi had caused, spoke to them and gave them the three laws. This is also when I imagine the First Songs took place.

Again, the first half of this, about Eywa developing alongside Pandora, I genuinely believe to be the most plausible explanation for her intelligence. It can tie into the “post-advanced-society Na’vi” theory but eh I’m not gonna touch that one this time around.

-

Anyway, that’s about it for now. I might add onto this post in the future, but yeah, there are all of my Eywa thoughts in one place.

#avatar #avatar: the way of water #avatar 2009 #avatar movie #james cameron's avatar #meta #eywa #my name is eywa for we are many

[merryfortune]

4 Absence of Singularity

AiYusa Month Week 4

Forever or Sparkles or Hunt/Escaping

“My life was hell before I met you, and when I met you, it turned into something worse.”

Soulmate AU or Canon Divergent AU

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Ship: Aiballshipping | Ai/Yusaku

Word Count: 743

Tags: Soulmate AU, Fluff

   Humans were so cosmically significant and yet were so beloved to the universe as well but what did that make him? An A.I.? Ai mused, benevolent and with a welling tear, as he observed the marking on his arm. He was just a monster in the shape of a neuron inhabiting a tin can all covered in silicon and rubber, a farce of a human and yet, for some reason, the stars decided that he, too, can have a fated loved one, the very same one whose agony and torture he was born from.

   “I don’t understand.” Ai protested and yet a quirk of his lips betrayed him. Through his tears, he sounded happy.

   “What’s confusing you?” Yusaku asked as he took Ai’s hand.

   He was gentle, pushing Ai’s sleeve slightly further past the crook of his elbow so he could admire the markings. The words that formed a sentence which was nothing less than the most important thing that his soulmate - Yusaku - was ever going to say to him.

   And what those magic words were, of course, the meaning of his name. He was meant to love people. Love humans. Love Yusaku most of all. Though he did not have a heart, his motors hammered and the supercomputer in his ‘brain’ whirred at paces even he couldn’t keep up with and it was his.

   “I’m not human. I’m not deserving. It's so silly.” Ai continued to protest.

   “I know but… can’t we have this small joy?” Yusaku inquired.

   He genuinely thought it was impossible to have a soulmate. That serene and idyllic love just for them, unique to them, just seemed impossible in regard to the size and scale of the universe that twinkled with these arbitrary decisions and impossible for him as Yusaku thought he could never really leave the small confines of that white walled prison he had been confined to as a child. Maybe his soulmate being Ai was proof of that that was all he was going to be, for better and for worse, maybe this was his way of being told he was connected to the world far beyond those four walls. It was difficult to say but just like when a duel depended on the next draw, Yusaku wanted to take that chance and savour hope.

   He offered a smile to Ai was still flabbergasted that a non-human creature would be given the same pittance as Yusaku but Yusaku hadn’t even grown in his stripes. After all, they only typically appeared on the skin of the wrist at around the ages between eighteen and twenty-two. An arc that Yusaku was just shy of at seventeen-ish. 

   And also part of why Ai was so frazzled by this turn of events but just how did an Ignis quantify their age? Chronologically, yes, they were ten but they started at the baseline of a six year old’s life experience and were perpetually ageless, going back and forth through simulated timelines with lifetimes upon lifetimes lived. Surely that was further confusing and confounding the universe owing to their present situation with Ai experiencing every rollicking emotion there was with the emergence of the soulmate’s fated writing on not exactly his own body.

   “But does it scare you?” Ai asked, fright in his rectangular pupiled eyes. “That this is it? The peak of all there is?”

   “That’s not definitively true.” Yusaku offered. “We’ve come so far and this is just one part of the ascent, there’s still more to come.” He reminded Ai and he nuzzled Ai’s wrist. He had a hand like a beautiful, mechanical doll. “And even if we get to that second peak, we would still have more to go, even if it's the descent. I look forward to one day learning what the most important thing you ever say to me is, even if it's just a simple I love you.”

   “Ohh,” Ai complained again but his voice took on a playful toll, he flung his arms around Yusaku and clutched onto him tightly in an embrace that had them waltzing around, making Yusaku’s heart sing and his eyes roll, “I’m sure it could never be so simple as that.” He tutted. “It’s bound to be something very big and dramatic and theatrical, nothing less for me unto you.”

   Yusaku smiled a small smile and patted Ai’s back, “You're totally right.” he agreed, fond, and he was still held tight as they savoured this moment together.

#aiyusamonth #aiyusa month #aiballshipping #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #ai (vrains) #fujiki yusaku #yusaku fujiki #writing tag #absence of singularity

[godslush]

I remember catching ridicule as a kid for continuing to call Slash Man a dinosaur after X4 came out, because older fandom peers were like "psshaw, sure he lives in dinosaur park but he's clearly a lion because of Slash Beastleo" and the level of "well akshully" may have contributed to me losing some of my enthusiasm for the fandom.

Jokes' on them (and me) , because Slash Man's R&F/M&B CD data says he loves fruits and vegetables (which woulda thrown kid me for a loop), which has me convinced that he could be a small Therizinosaur.

Just look at Wily and tell me he's not a hyper nerdlord who would know some slightly more obscure fossils, I dare you.

#mega man #if it's not obvious this is a joke #i just spontaneously had the thought when i woke up this morning #and my brain decided to connect those two neurons #the analogy doesn't stand though because the therizinosaur fossil known for the absurd claws is considered slow and lumbering #but who knows maybe a smaller member of the clade is a speedy little gremlin shit #ok I'll shut up now I've embarrassed myself enough #dai's mega man dump

[ryukatters]

annnnnd 17 and eren cause it i just feel it. ILY KAT MWAH

Would You Be So Kind?

A/N: Hi Fae! Thank you for the request, baby. Hope you enjoy! Also, brownie points to whoever can figure out where the title is from. 

Content/warnings:  fluff, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol, mentions of marijuana usage, Eren is a simp, reader is a bit (really) oblivious, I know it’s a request but gosh is it self-indulgent. Read to see two love sick idiots in action. This is also me bullying Eren by making him embarrass himself. 

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3k

Prompt: “I don’t just want to be your friend, can’t you see that?”

Inseparable. Thick as thieves. Joined at the hip. That’s how everyone would describe you and Eren. Together, side by side, no matter what. That’s the way it’s always been. He’s been there for you through everything: every tear, every laugh, every fall— he’d always be there to pick you back up and dust you off. Just like a best friend should. 

He’d never admit it to you, but Eren happened to fall in love with you somewhere in between playing pirates on the playground during recess and those midnight drives you two would go on after his varsity football games. It’s been a few years since then, but he thinks he’s only fallen for you deeper. Something about you was just so utterly intoxicating to Eren— your charisma, your laugh, your beauty? It was nothing short of ethereal. It was addicting. He doesn’t think any amount of time with you would be enough to truly satisfy his cravings. You’ve always been a part of him, and forever will be, as long as his heart keeps beating. He just wishes he could—

“Order for Eren!” the barista’s voice booms through the sound system of the busy cafe, snapping the man out of his thoughts. 

“Thank you,” he grabs the drinks— one for him and one for you, before heading out the door and making his way across campus for your little study session. 

It didn’t take Eren long to find you once he got to the library. You were seated at your usual corner, tucked away near the classics section, taking a crack at your textbook. You didn’t seem to notice the tall man approaching you, as evidenced by the way you suddenly perked up when he was right in front of you. The way you beamed up at him made his heart clench painfully. 

“Thanks, ‘Ren.” you grab the plastic cup from his outstretched hand, gratefully taking a sip. 

“No problem,” he replies coolly, despite the damn-near somersaults his stomach was doing. “So,” he starts, looking at you over the horizon of his own drink, “what are we learning about today, teach?”

“Well, I was thinking, since we have a quiz at the end of this week,” you pause, pointing to your textbook, “we should study this new chapter about brain structures. Professor sped through the lesson way too quickly last class.” 

“Well, I was thinking,” Eren crooned, stroking his chin mischievously, “we could just stay here and talk shit.”

“Eren!” you protested, pinning him down a hard look.

“I’m kidding! Kidding. Totally kidding,” he rolls his eyes, grinning widely. 

It was tradition at this point— you two would meet up at the library, with Eren usually providing the snacks and your favorite drink; which he’s memorized by heart, thank you very much. Sometimes, you and him would actually get some studying in. Most of the time, you two would just slack off, mess around for a few hours until you both got kicked out by the librarian for causing a ruckus. Still, he decided to grant this one to you.

Eren could watch you talk all day. The way your hands motion in sync with your words, the way your eyebrows scrunch together when you’re confused about something, the way your lips look so soft—

“So synapses are what connect neurons together-,” you pause, noticing how intently your friend is staring at you. “Do I have something on my face?” you ask innocently, head slightly tilting to the side. 

“H-huh?” he shakes his head quickly in an attempt to refocus. “No, I, uh...Just think you look really pretty today.”

“Oh- well, thanks Eren. You look pretty handsome today, yourself.” you giggle, before diving back into your mini-lecture. 

Eren wishes he could slump over the table at this very moment. Or rattle you around until those neurons in your brain form the connection that your best friend was head over heels for you. Was he not obvious enough?  

Eren could never bring himself to confess to you. Every time he’s tried, something always seems to get in the way. That, or you just never seem to catch his drift. Even so, he’s grateful for whatever cosmic powers are up there that twist the tides of fate to make sure that he doesn’t flat out embarrass himself. He doesn’t think he’d be able to take the heartbreak if you didn’t feel the same way. 

Still, he hoped you would have some area of space in your heart for him. Or, at the very least, catch on to him eventually. Opening doors for you, giving you his jacket when it was cold out— even taking you out on “friend” dates under the guise of “setting the standards high for your future partner.” Alas, his best friend just had to be absolutely clueless. Eren honestly thinks that you’re one of the most oblivious people he’s ever met. It’s a good thing you’re cute. It makes up for it. 

Even with all of those fleeting glances, lingering touches, and unabashed compliments, you still didn’t seem to understand how stupidly and utterly in love your best friend was with you. 

Which is ironic, he muses, considering how intelligent you seem to be in other disciplines. He’s often left scratching his head at how you can balance chemical equations or write a publication-worthy essay but not figure out why he always brought you chocolate and flowers for Valentines Day— every year, without fail. Or why he insisted on driving you everywhere. Heck, you didn’t even bat an eyelash when Eren nearly strangled Jean during prom when he charmed his way into a single dance with you while the brunet went to get you two some punch. You were Eren’s date that night, so who did Jean think he was? Why couldn’t you put those critical thinking skills to good use back then? Eren finds it baffling, really. 

He’ll have you some day, he swears to himself. If it means having to prove that he’s worthy of your affection every single day, then so be it. It’s only a matter of time. 

Eren Jaeger was somewhat of an enigma to you. Steadfast, quick to speak, and hardheaded. Those three words could perfectly summarize the brunet. At least, that’s what you originally thought. 

The rowdy and impulsive boy you grew up with turned into the one person you knew you could always count on. You did silently acknowledge how Eren’s become more protective within the last few years. Or how he always seemed to loosen up whenever he was with you, almost serene— a huge contrast to his hyperactive personality. Why? You might have a vague idea, but you refuse to entertain the thought. The notion that the man would have even the slightest of non-platonic feelings for you was nothing short of fantasy. Maybe he was that way because of how long you two have known each other. Nothing else. 

Besides, it’s not like it mattered anyways.

It’s not like you noticed how thoughtful and goofy that six foot tall man was, especially around you. And you definitely didn’t notice how effortlessly attractive he was, either. And you totally paid no mind to way your heart drummed in your chest whenever Eren smiled as bright as the sun itself, the way you felt the heat surge through your body whenever he brushed your hair out of your face, or perhaps the way you found yourself at a loss for words whenever he brought his face a little too close to yours.

That’d be ridiculous. 

…

Okay, maybe you did have a little crush on Eren. But that was normal, right? You thought nothing of it. Surely, you wouldn’t risk your friendship just because of a small crush. Eren meant too much to you. 

It’s not like he’d ever return your feelings.

Idiots. The both of you. That’s the only logical conclusion Armin could come to after Eren crashes at his apartment for the umpteenth time looking like a kicked puppy after another failed attempt at wooing you. 

This time around, Eren had decided to order a custom made chocolate-covered strawberry platter, complete with hearts in your favorite color. He was planning on going to your place after class, where he’d finally ask you to be his. 

It would’ve worked perfectly, if Connie and Sasha hadn’t ravaged through the whole thing like savages. Eren cursed their insatiable hunger only made worse by a case of munchies. He thinks he might cry if he thinks about it again.

“Eren,” the blond sighs, summoning all the strength in his body as to not bury his face in his hands in frustration, “all you have to do is tell her you like her.”

“I'm trying! I’ve been trying for the past-“ Eren takes the time to count his fingers, before eventually giving up and slumping over Armin’s futon. “I don’t even have enough fingers to count!” He downs the rest of his glass, reaching for the bottle of wine to pour more, frowning when one single drop comes out. 

“Listen to me, Eren. You need to tell her upfront, plain and simple. Don’t try and beat around the bush. No fancy get ups, okay? We’ve all seen firsthand how those things go for you.” 

“But-,” Eren began to protest.

“But nothing. Do you want another repeat of tonight?” Armin demanded, eyebrow quirked. 

“...no,” the brunet sniffles. 

Armin looks at his friend with a pitiful expression. He’s watched Eren fail spectacularly over the years. And every single time, he and Mikasa would be there to console him after another disastrous confession scheme. But this— nearly in tears while sitting on the floor of Armin’s living room while nursing his 4th glass of wine— was just painful. 

How neither of you could tell just how much the other was interested was a complete mystery to the blond.

“Okay,” Armin claps his hands together. Eren’s head shoots up, jade eyes wide and hopeful. “Here's what you’re going to say. Just repeat after me…”

It had been a few weeks since that interaction with Armin. Eren’s made sure to keep his best friend’s advice in mind this entire time, rehearsing and practicing his lines until he was certain he could deliver it perfectly. This night was it, Eren told himself. 

Connie had thrown a little party to celebrate the end of the school year, and what better way to celebrate than getting completely hammered? Eren had stuck by your side the entire night, making sure that you drank enough water in between rounds. You two left before the party could truly die down, with Eren paying for an Uber to take you two to a restaurant for take-out before dropping you home. 

You had sobered up a bit since leaving Connie’s, but that didn’t stop you from losing your footing as you stumbled down the sidewalk leading to your apartment. You brace yourself for the harsh impact of the concrete, but it never comes.

“Careful there, party girl. Don’t want you tripping all over yourself, now,” Eren’s grip is firm around your waist, hoisting you up expertly so he could carry you bridal style. 

“Eren,” your slur slightly, “you really didn’t have to do all this.”

“What do you mean?”

”Paying for everything. Always making sure I get home safely.”

“Nonsense. I wanted to. Only the best for my favorite girl. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I let a beautiful woman like you walk home by yourself this late at night?”

“You’re the best friend a girl could ever ask for,” you sigh, kicking off your heels as soon as you open the door to your apartment. Eren follows suit, toeing off his dress shoes as he closes the front door. He sets you down gently before placing the paper bags on your kitchen table.

You can see Eren’s smile falter, and he sighs a little, muttering something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch. 

“What was that?” you ask with a slight tilt of the head. 

There’s a pregnant pause. His viridian gaze is studying you, for any hint of malevolence hidden on your face, any indication that would predict how much he would regret the words that threaten to spill from his lips. It’s as if staring at you would help him garner strength for what he was about to say. When he finds none, he continues.

“I said,” he takes a deep breath, holding it until it looks as though he’d faint, before letting out a slow exhale. He takes a few more moments, mentally preparing himself before dropping the biggest truth bomb of his life. “I don’t just want to be your friend, can’t you see that?” verdant eyes searching yours for a clue, a sign, anything, that confirms that you return even a fraction of his feelings. 

“Oh,” you say dumbly, words beginning to bubble up your throat but die on your tongue. “Oh.” 

Your mind is racing, thoughts filing in at a remarkable speed, yet you could voice nothing. If you were to guess, you’d ascribe your current expression to that of a gaping fish. 

If you weren’t sober before, you definitely were now. 

The remnants of liquid courage coursing through his veins spur him on. Eren takes both of your hands in his, running his thumbs against your knuckles in order to ground himself and to stop the dam filled with years of pining from breaking. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you away by accidentally drowning you in the metaphorical sea of what he considers his love for you. His touch felt scalding hot against your skin, but you didn’t have it in you to pull away first. There had always been something so magnetic about Eren, and the way you just melted into him from the simplest of contact. This time was no different. 

“I’ve wanted to be with you for so, so long. Ever since the day I met you, (y/n),” Eren’s eyes always managed to draw you in with their intensity. You could read everything he felt just by looking into them. This time they were pleading, begging you to believe him. 

“You’re all I ever wanted.” he imparts earnestly. 

“I-” you start, still trying to find the right words to say. Luckily, Eren keeps going.

“Be mine. Please? I promise you, I’ll do my best to make sure you know how much I care about you, every single day. All you have to do is say yes.”

You’re dumbfounded. Truly at a loss of words. You’re quiet for some time— way too long, that Eren starts freaking out. The room is suddenly way too hot, and he can feel himself start to break into a sweat. The next four seconds feel like an eternity.

One.

She heard me, right?

Did I hear him correctly?

Two.

She should have said something by now...why is she just staring at me like that?

I should probably say something right now...he looks like he’s about to pass out. 

Three. 

Oh my god. Do I have something in my teeth?

Oh my god. I bet I look stupid right now. 

Four.

Great fucking job, Eren. Of course you’d fuck this up. 

Of course I’d ruin a moment like this. Just say something already!

Before you even get a chance to redeem yourself, Eren is backing away, face flushed and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I mean…” he croaks, wincing when his voice cracks. “You can say no. I-I’d totally get it. Was I too forward? Oh my god I didn’t mean to—”  

“Eren…” you murmur, grabbing him by both arms to pull him back. He stumbles forward, lightly knocking into you. If you can’t figure out what to say, you might as well just show him.

“Yeah?” he breathes, heart racing.  

“Just kiss me already.” 

Now it’s his turn to be caught off guard. He opens his mouth to say something, to ask if you really just said that, or if the alcohol was making him imagine things. But nothing comes out. He can feel his heart threatening to jump out of his chest at your sudden change in disposition. You sure did have a knack for turning him into a blushing, blubbering idiot. 

He doesn’t trust himself enough to try and speak again, so instead Eren leans in to close the distance between you, cupping your cheeks gently, as though he was afraid you would break.  Eren’s always been rough around the edges, but with you, he treats you as if you were a doll, made from the finest porcelain. Even with his intense nature, he always tries his best to be gentle with you, to be patient. 

The kiss was simple and sweet, lips pressed softly against each other, almost shy. The emotions behind the physical connection you two shared were anything but reserved. All of the unspoken confessions and promises you were pouring into each other were ceaseless. One could say it mirrors the eternal vow you two were silently making— to love and cherish each other until the end.

Eren was screaming I love you, I love you, so, so much. He pressed into you, holding on to you firmly in a desperate attempt to finally let out everything he’s wanted to say for so long.

You comforted him, grabbing onto him as if your life depended on it. You were saying I know, Eren. I love you too. 

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost!

#this shit’s been kicking my ass for so long #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren fluff #aot fluff #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager fluff #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk fluff #eren yeager #eren #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x y/n #alcohol tw #weed tw #kat’s writing

[balkanradfem]

When we see a tree, we tend to think of it as a singular unit – just as we think of ourselves as individuals. But biologists have discovered that it’s not quite so simple. They have come to understand that trees depend on certain kinds of fungi in the soil: hair-thin structures called hyphae that interlace with cells in the roots of trees to form mycorrhiza. The fungi benefit by receiving someof the sugar that plants produce through photosynthesis (which it cannot otherwise make), while the trees benefit in turn by receiving elements like phosphorous and nitrogen that they cannot produce for themselves, and without which they cannot survive.

But this reciprocity is not confined to just two parties in this ancient relationship. Invisible fungal networks also connect the roots of different trees to one another, sometimes over great distances, forming an underground internet that allows them to communicate, and even to share energy, nutrients and medicine. The ecologist Robert Macfarlane explains how this works: A dying tree might divest itself of its resources to the benefit of the community, for example, or a young seedling in a heavily shaded understory might be supported with extra resources by its stronger neighbours. Even more remarkably, the network also allows plants to send one another warnings. A plant under attack from aphids can indicate to a nearby plant that it should raise its defensive response before the aphids reach it.

It has been known for some time that plants communicate above ground in comparable ways, by means of airborne hormones. But such warnings are more precise in terms of source and recipient when sent by means of the myco-net. 16 Trees co-operate. They communicate. They share. Not only among members of the same species, but across species barriers: Douglas firs and birches feed each other. And it’s not just trees; we now know that all plants – except for a handful of species – have this same relationship with mycorrhiza. Just as with our gut bacteria, these findings challenge how we think about the boundaries between species. Is a tree really an individual? Can it really be conceived as a separate unit? Or is it an aspect of a broader, multi-species organism?

There’s also something else going on here – something perhaps even more revolutionary. Dr Suzanne Simard, a professor in the department of forest & conservation at the University of British Columbia, has argued that mycorrhizal networks among plants operate like neural networks in humans and other animals; they function in remarkably similar ways, passing information between nodes. And just as the structure of neural networks enables cognition and intelligence in animals, mycorrhizal networks provide similar capacities to plants. Recent research shows that the network not only facilitates transmission, communication and co-operation – just like our neurons do – it also facilitates problem-solving, learning, memory and decision-making.

These words are not just metaphorical. The ecologist Monica Gagliano has published groundbreaking research on plant intelligence, showing that plants remember things that happen to them, and change their behaviour accordingly. In other words, they learn. In a recent interview with Forbes, she insisted: ‘My work is not about metaphors at all; when I talk about learning, I mean learning. When I talk about memory, I mean memory.’ Indeed, plants actively change their behaviour as they encounter new challenges and receive messages about the changing world around them. Plants sense: they see, hear, feel and smell, and they respond accordingly. If you’ve ever seen time-lapse footage of a vine growing up a tree, you’ll have an idea of what this looks like in action: that vine is no automaton – it’s sensing, moving, balancing, solving problems, trying to figure out how to navigate new terrain. The more we learn, the stranger (or perhaps more familiar?) it all becomes. Simard’s work shows that trees can recognise their own relatives through mycorrhizal networks. Older ‘mother’ trees can identify nearby saplings that came from their own seeds, and they use this information to decide how to allocate resources in times of stress. Simard also describes how trees seem to have ‘emotional’ responses to trauma in a way that’s not dissimilar to animals. After a machete whack or during an aphid attack, their serotonin levels change (yes, they have serotonin, along with a number of neurochemicals that are common in animal nervous systems), and they start pumping out emergency messages to their neighbours.

Of course, none of this is to say that plant intelligence is exactly like that of animals. In fact, scientists warn that our urge to constantly compare the intelligence of some species with that of others is exactly the problem: it ends up blinding us to how other kinds of intelligence might work. Set out in search of a brain and you’ll never even notice the mycorrhiza that have been pulsing through the earth, evolving right under our feet, for 450 million years. This research is just taking off, and we have no idea where it might lead. But Simard is careful to point out that it’s not exactly new: If you listen to some of the early teachings of the Coast Salish and the Indigenous people along the western coast of North America, they knew [about these insights] already. It’s in the writings and in the oral history.

The idea of the mother tree has long been there. The fungal networks, the below-ground networks that keep the whole forest healthy and alive, that’s also there. That these plants interact and communicate with each other, that’s all there. They used to call the trees the tree people … Western science shut that down for a while and now we’re getting back to it.

Trees aren’t only connected with each other. They are also connected with us. Over the past few years, research into human–tree relationships has yielded some truly striking findings. A team of scientists in Japan conducted an experiment with hundreds of people around the country. They asked half of the participants to walk for fifteen minutes through a forest, and the other half to walk through an urban setting, and then they tested their emotional states. In every case, the forest walkers experienced significant mood improvements when compared to the urban walkers, plus a decline in tension, anxiety, anger, hostility, depression and fatigue. The benefits were immediate and effective. Trees also have an impact on our behaviour. Researchers have found that spending time around trees makes people more co-operative, kinder and more generous. It increases our sense of awe and wonder at the world, which in turn changes how we interact with others. It reduces aggression and incivility. Studies in Chicago, Baltimore and Vancouver have all discovered that neighbourhoods with higher tree cover have significantly fewer crimes, including assault, robbery and drug use – even when controlling for socioeconomic status and other confounding factors.

It’s almost as though being with trees makes us more human. We don’t know quite why this happens. Is it just that green environments are somehow more pleasant and calming? A study in Poland suggests that doesn’t explain it. They had people spend fifteen minutes standing in a wintertime urban forest: no leaves, no green, no shrubbery; just straight, bare trees. One might think such an environment would have minimal if any positive impact on people’s mood, but not so: participants standing in the bare forest reported significant improvements in their psychological and emotional states when compared to a control group that spent those fifteen minutes hanging out in an urban landscape. And it’s not just mood and behaviour. It turns out that trees have an impact on our physical health too – in concrete, material terms. Living near trees has been found to reduce cardiovascular risk. Walking in forests has been found to lower blood pressure, cortisol levels, pulse rates and other indicators of stress and anxiety.

Even more intriguingly, a team of scientists in China found that elderly patients with chronic health conditions demonstrated significant improvements in immune function after spending time in forests. We don’t know for sure, but this may have something to do with the chemical compounds that trees exhale into the air. The aromatic vapours released by cypress, for example, have been found to enhance the activity of a number of human immune cells, while reducing stress hormone levels. In an attempt to quantify the overall benefit of trees, scientists in Canada found that trees have a more powerful impact on our health and well-being than even large sums of money. Having just ten more trees on a city block decreases cardio-metabolic conditions in ways comparable to earning an extra $20,000. And it improves one’s sense of well-being as much as earning an extra $10,000, moving to a neighbourhood with $10,000 higher median income, or being seven years younger. These results are astonishing. There’s a real mystery here, which scientists still do not yet understand. But perhaps we shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, we have co-evolved with trees for millions of years. We even share DNA with trees. After countless generations, we’ve come to depend on them for our health and happiness just as we depend on other humans. We are, in a very real sense, relatives.

- Jason Hickel,  Less is More

#quote #less is more #trees #tree loving writing #tree knowledge #tree wisdom

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 8]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“reality may be better than a dream“

He isn’t sure when he woke back up or how long it had been since he fell asleep, but his cheek is squished up against something and he is in a horizontal position. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, realizing he is staring past the edge of a pair of tanned legs decorated with thin black lines of fishnets which are also digging into his cheek. His eyes widen, lips parting a tiny bit when he realizes he’d tipped over in his sleep, laying his head on Cora’s hip. His hand had slid from her cheek and curled against the back of her neck, cradling her head in his palm. He swallows hard, unsure if he should move and risk waking her up or stand as still as he possibly can. On one hand, he doesn’t want her thinking he willingly invaded her personal space, but then again she’s bound to find out, seeing as how moving would result in waking her up and if he remained in his current position, she’s still gonna wake up sooner or later and find him awkwardly looking at her, silently praying she doesn’t lose her cool at him.

What is a guy to do?

Her arms are still wrapped snugly around his thigh, sleeping peacefully in the dark room illuminated only by the Netflix menu. 

It must be later than I thought, he thinks to himself as he stretches his free leg out to his phone, tapping the screen with his sock covered toe to discover it’s 6:48pm. Jesus, we’ve slept for almost two hours. 

The sun is still glowing but is now significantly lower in the sky, indicating they’d have a little bit of daylight left but it would be quick to slip past them if Cora doesn’t wake up anytime soon. What if she wanted to leave before it got dark? I should probably wake her up, no? I mean, there’s also the possibility that she didn’t and I’d just be disturbing her for no reason and I of course don’t want that….Ugh, fuck, why is something this simple so complicated?!

Doing his best not to jostle her, Corpse carefully pushes himself up using his hands which he’s propped up on the back of the couch. Once upright, he carefully eases his hand out from under her head and brushes a few stray dark locks away from her face where they had formed a curtain over her closed eyes. His voice cracks as he tries to speak so it comes out more as an unsure murmur. 

“Cora. Hey, come on, wake up.” He whispers, trying to be gentle as he nudges her shoulder. 

She lets out a soft distressed noise at the fact that someone dared to interrupt her sleep. Her arms tighten around his leg and she rubbed her cheek into his thigh, indicating that he’s not going anywhere with this mellowness, 

“Mmm...five more minutes…” she mutters, making his cheeks burn as she snuggles up even tighter into him.  

With a defeated sigh he leans back, fixating his gaze on the TV and smiles a tiny bit, feeling that by now familiar, warm sensation in his chest and stomach - the one he feels whenever he takes her hand or gets a text from her. “Alright, five minutes.” He settles, leaning back further on the couch, unlocking his phone, beginning to browse Instagram quietly and then checking his email afterwards. 

He soon finds he’s lost track of time but eventually it definitely starts feeling like more than five minutes have passed, and so Corpse decides to take some action. Bowing his head down, he shakes her shoulder again. “Alright, come on, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to get up. I’m hungry and I gotta pee and I’m done with being held hostage.”

Her head tips slightly to the side, eyes still closed as she turns to face the ceiling. A sly little smirk dances on her lips before it falls when she goes back to pretending to be consumed by her blissful slumber. Her voice arises from her throat as a playful whisper, 

“Something-something can only be awoken with the kiss of a strong knight.” 

Corpse feels his stomach do a backflip and his face starts burning as the color of his cheeks, ears and neck switches to a bright shade of red, eyes growing wide when he registers what she just said. “I’m...um-...” He stutters, his throat suddenly dry and coarse as sandpaper.

Cora opens one eye just a slit, spotting his frantic blushing before closing it again. “Or even just a dude lost in the woods if the knight is unavailable.”

He swallowed again, desperately trying to fish out any words and let them leave his mouth. Despite his attempts to calm himself down, his hands go clammy and his heart has taken to hitting the inside of his ribcage with the intensity of an angry dragon, threatening to break through and leave his body. 

She isn’t really suggesting this, right? It’s a joke, it has to be. Haha, make Corpse look like a dumbass, won’t that be hilarious.

Interrupting his thoughts, one of her hands squeezes the back of his knee while the other comes up to link her pinky finger with his own. He stares down at her, flustered as all hell, catching that one eye open again. His face is the epitome of questioning, puzzled and….hopeful? He can’t afford to be getting hopeful, not when there’s still the option that she’s messing with him. That’s why he has to know. His eyes are begging her to tell him what’s going on here or if there’s anything going on at all. He wants her to either break this magic or carry it out completely to where it’s enveloped and surrounded them both. He wants something, anything, even the tiniest signal from her, just to put his mind at ease and his racing heart to rest.

His breath hitches when Cora slides her hand out from under his leg. Defeat spreads throughout his chest like a wildfire when he thinks she’s about to pull away. 

I knew it! I knew she’s just fucking around, she’d never w-!

His brain stops firing neurons of panic when he feels a hand rest on the back of his neck and he suddenly realizes he’s being pulled down slightly, the figure across his lap raising to connect their lips halfway. 

He freezes, eyes wide and nearly watering in panic at the sudden contact that he was far from prepared for. However, Cora wouldn’t be Cora if she just let him sit there and panic so she immediately reacts, squeezing his hand so that his instincts would kick in. When they finally do, his hand comes up to gently cup her face, allowing himself to melt into the kiss. He kisses her slowly, savoring the feeling of her lips against his - warm and soft against his chapped ones. His thumb brushes slowly across her cheekbone, subconsciously memorizing every spot and tiny line etched into her skin. 

She’s the first to pull back but they don’t stay apart for long seeing as how she’s quick to sit up higher and press her lips back against his, hand cradling his head as both their bodies buzz with heat. His arm automatically wraps around her torso, the palm of his hand resting on her back to keep her close, deepening the kiss.

His chest is aching with happiness, eyes brimmed with tears of joy and relief he hopes won’t spill for her to see. He just can’t help himself, it all feels so overwhelming and surreal. The feeling that he’s had living within him since their lunch date has finally fallen into place. It finally makes sense and he can finally be at peace with it. That’s the biggest relief he’s felt in a long while. She’s his check point, his safe haven and his relief. She’s become so much to him in such a short amount of time. It goes without saying she’s incredibly special.

He draws back after a moment and inhales shakily, his whole body shaking in shock. 

“Holy shit.” He whispers, eyes wide as he carefully moves his hands away from her face. 

Cora’s cheeks are pink as she smiles faintly and nods in agreement. “Sorry...I hope that was okay.” She mumbles, looking away shyly but not for long. Corpse tilts her head, turning it to face him once again as he leans in to press his lips firmly against hers, eyes closing slowly yet again. She brings her body closer to his and Corpse could swear he felt the Earth stop spinning. The rest of the world has stopped existing. Nothing matters but this moment, right now. This kiss shared between them, this contact between them, addictive like a drug.

They spend a few minutes just kissing slowly, enjoying every second of it, savoring it with a small fear they might never repeat this though they really hope they do. 

He alternates between cupping her cheek and neck to holding her hands. The whole experience is just so warm and deep and meaningful, but tame at the same time. They don’t dissolve into a frantic mess, they kept their pace, moving in sync, reminding each other that this is not a dream. This is better than any dream could ever be.

He breaks away first, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. “Do-...do you need to go home?” He blurts out softly, fingers laced with hers, the question so out of place for the setting.

“Oh, is my kissing so bad you want to kick me out?” She asks with a smile so small but so bright it warms him internally. 

He laughs a deep breathy laugh, looking at her with affection. He can't help it, he’s intoxicated by her. Before, it would have been a totally different experience for him: frantic backpedaling on what he’d said but something feels...good with her here. It feels so right and it keeps him grounded in the current moment, refusing to allow him running the conversation and events back in his head.

“No, you’re perfect…” he admits softly, a little anxious with those words but accepting them as truth because that’s what they are. “I just thought….”

“Is that what that burning smell is?” She teases again, perhaps hiding her own nervousness behind jokes, before she kisses him softly. 

“I thought, if you wanted to stay the night....I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” He manages to say, pulling away from her briefly, the backs of his fingers drawing a soft line across her cheek. He pulls away further suddenly, realizing that may be a bit too romantic. They just kissed, and still haven’t spent such a big amount of time together. With these thoughts in mind, he hurries to add: “If not, it’s okay…”

She’s quick to shake her head, dismissing his worries, “I want to stay, but you’re not sleeping on the couch. What, are you afraid I’ll give you cooties?” She teases, squeezing his hands and leaning in to affectionately headbutt his shoulder. 

He smiled and winds his arms around her in a tight hug, releasing her when she pulls away. “Alright, but I’m hungry, and I still need to piss.” He declares, standing up and stretching to loosen and relax his stiff joints, starting to make his way to the bathroom. “Think about what you want for dinner!”

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse fic #corpse fanfic #corpse fanfiction #corpse fluff #corpse fandom #corpse imagine #corpse imagines #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse x oc #corpse x original character #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x oc #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband is ruining my life #corpse husband imagine #oc #original female character #original character #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom

[seasonsofeverlark]

Pumpkin Pie and Cheese Buns

Author: @evestedic​

Prompt: Hard working coming home for thanksgiving. Stops at the store on the way to pick up the dessert she didn’t bother to make no one will notice anyway and runs into their ex lover. Tries to leave fast but has to take the walk of shame back to grab the cranberries too. Arrives home not just with the cranberries and pie…  [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T

____________

“God damn it!” Katniss was not happy. 

It was Thanksgiving, which meant she was being forced to spend time with people she didn’t even know.

Why?

Because they’re family, Katniss.

She could hear her Aunt Martha’s voice. 

Why should she care that her cousin was getting married?

Or that her nephew had gotten into college? 

Or that her godfather was slipping her a 20 buck bill while winking an eye at her? 

She wasn’t a total bitch, so she bore with it, but this was people she saw one fucking time per year! 

If it wasn’t for Thanksgiving, she was sure she wouldn’t see them again as they never even called. Nor did she.

But, be that as it may, Prim loved big gatherings and the attention; she was, after all, quite cheerful. Her father also bore with it, although better than her. 

However, who knew? This year her mother was coming with her new boyfriend. 

Ugh, puke… 

And that was why she was there, November the 26th, coming back from work and on her way to Aunt’s Martha’s house. 

Katniss was not happy. 

She had already left the store not five minutes ago, but something kept nagging at the back of her head while she accommodated the bags in the back of her car. 

Of course, being who she was, she had forgotten dessert. The pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream. Sighing and fuming, she went back to the absolute chaos of the aisles. If she arrived at her aunt’s without dessert…well, she would rather face a biblical plague. 

After perusing the dessert stand and seeing everything was completely wiped out‒not even crumbs were left‒she gave up and thought about getting some canned peaches and cherries.  That’s when she heard it…   

“Is that you, Katniss?” 

That voice. 

She had loved it at one point. Now, it was just nails on a chalkboard. 

Turning around, she set her eyes on a huge blonde guy; he had a perfect gym advertisement body, a smirk on his face, and his arm around a blonde girl with the same perfect gym advertisement body. 

“Cato.” 

“Buying for Thanksgiving?”

“No, just came because I was craving some peaches.” 

“Oh.”

Seriously? It was the most direct sarcastic answer ever, and he had actually believed her? 

Katniss rolled her eyes and was about to turn around when the Barbie clone spoke. 

“Is this the one, babe?”

“Yes, baby, that’s her.”

“Oh, I thought she’d be…I don’t know, prettier?”

“She never wanted to put in the effort, baby.”

“She is standing right here. And if working out turns you dumb, I’m glad I didn’t do it.” 

Katniss had gone out with Cato for two years when they were nineteen. Back then, he had been a kind guy, funny and perhaps a bit silly, but very nice, normal. He had asked her out after a college party, and she accepted; the rest was history. 

However, after one year of being together, he began frequenting the campus gym and suddenly started to change. All he could talk about were diets, exercise, and protein. Katniss was all in for a healthier life; hell, she knew if she kept on eating Greasy Sae’s food every other night, she was going to clog her arteries by the time she was 35, but Cato was relentless. He got rid of all of her comfort food and she had been forbidden to eat chicken and meat ever again. Only turkey and fish were allowed, vegetables, no dairy or eggs, no sugar! She was going crazy; Katniss had reached the obscene point of hiding in the bathroom to eat a Snickers bar, only to quickly brush her teeth and rinse with Listerine at least thrice so that her boyfriend wouldn’t taste any trace of chocolate when he kissed her. It was that night when she knew she couldn’t do it anymore. She no longer recognized the guy she had agreed to date or herself, for that matter. So, Katniss decided to end it right then and there. She skipped her next class and went to their dorm only to find him banging the very same Barbie girl who was in front of her in the canned aisle right now. 

Quickest breakup ever. 

He had said it was her fault for not ‘putting in the effort,’ and she hated him for it. 

“Jealousy doesn’t fit you, Katniss. Well,” Cato gave her a once-over, “I doubt anything does. Have you gained weight?” 

“If I have, that wouldn’t be any of your fucking business. What are you doing here? Came to buy something for dinner? I think there’s a celery and mineral water pack on sale.” 

“Still salty because I chose someone better?” Cato shamelessly licked the girl’s ear, making her giggle in an obnoxious way that made Katniss want to gag. 

She didn’t have to stand here and watch this; she-

Was that a hand on her waist?

“Hey, sorry I took so long. I literally had to wrestle this from an old lady.” 

That voice. 

Peeta Mellark was holding onto her waist and smiling that charming smile that could probably tame a wild animal, while proudly presenting a ham to her.

“Um…” Eloquent as always. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with friends.” 

“Yeah, no…Not my friends.” 

“Aren’t you the baker guy? You’re slumming it with the bakery employee?” Cato laughed while Barbie‒Katniss really couldn’t care less about her actual name‒looked at Peeta appreciatively. 

“I haven’t introduced myself,” Peeta said, extending his right hand but not letting Katniss’ waist go. Cato immediately took it, flexing his bicep as he did so, but his expression faltered when he shook Peeta’s hand. “Peeta Mellark, owner of ‘The Cake Lair’. Have you guys ever been?” 

Katniss was confused. 

It wasn’t as if she and Peeta were actually friends. They had talked, yes. She simply loved the pastries he sold, and because of how she had raved about his cheese buns, well…the double entendre put her in an uncomfortable position, but he had only laughed and thanked her for the compliment, as he had, in fact, baked those himself. 

Peeta always made sure to set aside at least two cheese buns for her prior to the end of the day. 

And okay, yeah, they had exchanged numbers and texted from time to time, but nothing deep. It was always things about the weather, the cheese buns, or how Prim was. Did that qualify as being friends? 

Katniss was awful at being a good friend, hence why she only had two: Gale and Madge. Her sister and father didn’t count; they were family. 

Shaking her head, she returned to the present to find that arm still around her and Cato’s face getting red. 

“Just let go, dude.  You’re about to pop a vein.” Peeta chuckled. 

Katniss directed her gaze at their hands; she could see they were both squeezing the hell out of each other. Cato probably thought he could scare Peeta off with his muscles, but he clearly hadn’t seen Peeta shirtless on a hot day, hauling 100-pound flour sacks onto his back as if they were light cargo. Peeta was strong, like ‘I could iron clothes on your stomach’ fit; he just didn’t flaunt it, and Katniss appreciated that.

Cato huffed and let go, and Peeta smiled once more and winked at Barbie, who was giggling like an idiot. 

“So, we should be going soon if we want to make it, Katniss. You know how Aunt Martha gets if we don’t get the groceries in time for her.” 

So yeah, she had told him about her hellish weekend to come last week, but Katniss didn’t think he would remember. 

With his hand still on her waist and her still not shrugging it off, they made to pass Cato and his doll, but, of course, the bodybuilder felt the need to use the sole neuron in his brain. 

“You know you’re just a replacement, right? I mean, she went and looked for the next guy that kinda looked like me because she clearly can’t forget me.” 

Tuck your thumb over your middle finger to make a proper fist. If you wrap your fingers around your thumb, you’re likely going to break it. 

Her father’s words and the boxing lessons came back in a flash, and before Peeta could hold her back, Katniss pivoted on her left foot, momentum aiding her, and connected her first with Cato’s jaw. She wasn’t an expert boxer or anything of the sort; she just liked the exercise, and she was strong. But Katniss must have been lucky enough to hit the sweet spot because Cato dropped to the aisle floor, unconscious. 

“Babe!” Barbie girl screeched, and suddenly, two more gorilla-looking guys were coming to her aid. 

Friends of his, no doubt. 

“Tell your boy toy, next time he wants to bully me to think twice, lest he finds himself beaten up again by a woman,” Katniss spat at the blonde girl. 

“You did this?” A broad and tall black guy asked. He was actually pretty scary, but Katniss held her ground and managed to nod. To her surprise, he chuckled and sort of bowed to her. “He’s an ass. I bet he had it coming. We’ll take care of him.” 

“Thresh! He’s your friend…” Barbie girl actually had tears in her eyes. 

“He’s not. We’re just in the same weightlifting class. And don’t cry; he’ll come to soon. Finnick, help me bring this idiot back.” 

“You must have a mean right hook, hon,” the guy with reddish hair and perfect teeth told Katniss. 

“I do.” She jutted out her chin proudly; her dad had taught her well. 

“Nice to know you have it all sorted out. Katniss, should we go?” Peeta was pulling her a bit, and she let him, both soon finding themselves out in the parking lot, having decided to leave behind the cans and the ham. 

Once they were in front of her car, Katniss did something she rarely did. 

“I’m sorry I cost you your ham.” 

Peeta seemed surprised, but he simply smiled. “That’s okay. There are a lot of hams left, actually; I just needed an excuse to walk up to you.” 

“Why did you do that?” 

“That guy was an ass, and I know you could’ve handled it on your own, but…,” he leaned in a bit and whispered, “doesn’t it feel good to let him know you’re with someone much better now?” 

Katniss couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You’re full of yourself, Mellark!” 

“Hey! I’m a catch, I tell you. Owner of his own bakery, hard-working; I know how to cook and bake, and I’m easy on the eyes, too.” 

“Not to mention, tons and tons of humility.” 

“That, too.” He smiled, and Katniss rolled her eyes, but she really didn’t feel angry with him. She hadn’t needed his help, but he had offered it freely without expecting anything in return. “So, I guess this is where we part ways.” 

“What are your plans for tonight, Peeta?” Katniss suddenly asked, and he was surprised as well. 

“Uhhhh, not much. Bake something? Eat it while watching TV, nothing exciting.” 

“You can come to my Aunt Martha’s, if you want. Prim would love to see you, and this way I can repay your ‘act of kindness’.” 

“Really? You sure it wouldn’t bother you?” 

“If it did, I wouldn’t have asked.” 

“Sure, I’d love to.” 

“Okay, but before that, there’s something I need you to do for me.” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you drive? My right hand is killing me.” 

                                                °•. ✿ .•°

“Why couldn’t you just buy it?” Katniss whined.

“Because I actually enjoy baking. You should know this already.” Peeta chuckled as he handled the mixer. After a few more turns, it seemed everything was ready. “I just need to flour the containers now.” Peeta patted his hands on his apron and went back to the pantry. 

Katniss took her chance. 

She slowly inched her hand forward, her eyes not leaving Peeta’s back, just in case. 

Two more inches and-

“I swear, Katniss, if you’re reaching for that dough I won’t make any cheese buns for a week.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed, shocked. That wasn’t fair! Peeta hadn’t even turned around, but he knew what she had been about to do. 

“Try me, love.” He then approached the table again, watching a grumbling Katniss cross her arms. “You know you can’t have raw dough while pregnant.”

“That’s a stupid rule. I bet it’s invented. How did women manage centuries ago, then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. They sometimes died intoxicated, so no biggie.” Peeta was serious now. 

“I wouldn’t die over a bit of dough…” She said it under her breath, but he heard.

Peeta sighed, and Katniss felt a pang of regret. Damn him. “Katniss, do we really have to discuss this again? It’s Thanksgiving, and I’d bet my bank account Aunt Martha would come down here and force you to go to the party if you weren’t so-” 

“Go on, finish what you were going to say.” Katniss knew she was so big she might be in need of her own postal code. 

“-tired. You’re carrying twins, and that’s not an easy feat. The only thing she asked for was the pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream.”

“Every fucking year.” 

“She indulges during the holiday.”

“Why not just get one from the bakery?”

“She wants it fresh.” 

“Why doesn’t she come down here and get it herself?”

“You really want your Aunt Martha here? Right now? Today?”

“…No.” Why did Peeta have to be so logical? 

“I know you’re crabby and your feet are probably swelling. Let me put this in the oven, and then I’ll massage them with some of that lavender cream your mother gave you.” 

“And a bath.”

“A massage and a bath, you got it.” 

Peeta, of course, fulfilled his promise and left Katniss so relaxed she fell asleep and didn’t even notice her husband had gone and come back from the Everdeen’s annual Thanksgiving gathering. 

By the time she opened her eyes, he was sitting next to her, reading a book. 

“Hey…did you all get a proper rest?” Peeta put a hand on her belly, smiling. 

“I think so, yeah; they just started moving.” 

“I can feel. Here, let me help you up.” Peeta’s strength was no joke. He could single-handedly lift her up, yes, even when she felt like a whale, and prop her on the bed so she could sit comfortably. “That okay?” 

“Yes, perfect.” 

“Happy anniversary, love.” He presented her with a huge cheese bun, making her laugh.

“Peeta, just because we fucked for the first time four years ago today, doesn’t mean it’s an anniversary.”

“For me it is! Come on, I bet you didn’t think we’d end up doing it in the bathroom that night.” 

“I seriously didn’t.”

“But here we are, and that’s all that matters.” 

Her husband really was the cheesiest person alive, but she secretly adored that part of him. 

“Shut up and let me enjoy my cheese bun.”

“Your wish is my command.” 

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #evestedic #submission #prompt

[iamhereonlytobeanunstableshipper]

Your Universe (A Cherik One Shot)

Read on AO3

Summary:

Two years after the incident with Apocalypse, Charles hasn't seen Erik again. When his old friend's birthday comes, Charles finds himself looking at the calendar all day long. Would it be a good idea to wish him a Happy Birthday? Well, it will be just a moment, Charles thinks. A brief touch of his mind. Two words, as a sign of peace. And that's it.

But of course, nothing is that easy when we talk about love.

Notes:

I wrote this a long ago, and I know it's not perfect. But this fanfiction kinda grew up on me because it was the first Cherik one I ever wrote. So, I'm finally posting it. Hope you enjoy it!

Also, I'm not a native speaker. So my English is a mix of public school lessons, google translate, and Grammarly. Sorry and feel free to correct me if I wrote something wrong :)

The chestnut eyelashes tinkled like the flutter of a soft butterfly in the ample room, gently pushing away the dust that was approaching the oceanic irises. They stood out like sapphires in the dim light that the sleepy sunset allowed to pass through the windows.

The man was resting on his comfortable mattress, a pillow lifting his head slightly. His hands were placed in his lap, while his left thumb repeatedly stroked the knuckles of his right hand, a gesture he used to do when he thought about a difficult subject.

Meanwhile, his ruby lips were nibbled over and over again nervously by his pearly teeth, unconsciously.

Something had been haunting the telepath's head since, the night before, his watch had marked midnight.

He remembered it as if it were yesterday when, in one of their many whiskey and chess nights, a deep-eyed man confessed that his birthday was that exact day that now passed through the calendar.

It had been two years after he had last seen him, in the incident with Apocalypse. He had hoped that now that things ended with no fights involved, the magnetic man would one day go back to the mansion (to say hi, at least). But the weeks ran one after another, and Charles could only try to convince himself that he didn't miss Erik at all.

Fake it 'till you make it, they say.

But, oh. Sometimes faking it was harder than letting himself drown surrounded by those memories. Charles could still feel those piercing eyes watching him with an indecipherable gaze, sometimes so intense that Charles wondered who was the telepath there. His coffee scent, striking his pituitary, was so sweet and so sour. Always sweet and sour, of course. His smirk, showing his gleaming and sharp teeth. His messy kisses, exploring Charles' mouth during that night that had been carved into his memory like a mantra.

It was a blessing to remember all this with acute certitude but a curse to know that it would never happen again.

Loving a memory was the most addictive and delusional form of torture the telepath could ever experience.

Despite all the pain, the anger, the betrayal, it was impossible to hate that man. And the desire to see him again or simply touch his mind was unshakable. And, now that he knew Erik no longer carried that helmet, the desire was unbearable.

Erik's birthday was the perfect occasion to wander through his mind, even if it was just a simple touch.

Charles decided not to think about it anymore. It had been torturing him for hours, and that was enough. He knew right away that he would regret it, but the decision was made.

The mansion halls seemed to be sleeping, just like the students did. Charles could feel the tall walls judging him as he passed by.

Sooner than he had expected, he arrived at Cerebro. Charles reached there by inertia because he surely wasn't paying attention as he wheeled through the mansion. He was too busy thinking about how stupid was what he was about to do. Without paying too much attention to his common sense, he placed the helmet-like machine on his head. He hid his blue orbs behind his lids and focused on his telepathy.

Finding Erik among all the other minds was frighteningly simple. As if it was a reflex action.

As soon as Charles entered Erik's mind, a sense of nostalgia intoxicated every inch of his being.

He stopped for a few moments observing the beautiful work of art that made up Erik's mind.

He explored with his telepathy the brain connections of the opposite, feeling with amazement how each neuron connected with the rest, creating constellations of stardust around him. An infinite universe of dark nebulae elegantly intertwined with each other, creating lugubrious galaxies of thoughts and emotions.

Charles gazed in awe at the mental barriers built into Erik's mind, how impressive they were to be made by someone who wasn't a telepath. He remembered when he had taught the man about telepathy in one of their many conversations. Those barriers housed Erik's most significant memories, Charles noticed right away. Most were gray; they gave off inhuman suffering and loneliness, creating a gloomy atmosphere between all those galaxies. But there were some, only some, so beautiful and brilliant that they would beat the sun any other day.

Charles shuddered to see that in most of those beautiful memories, he was the protagonist. The telepath's ruby smile was kept in the German's mind like a precious treasure, like the brightest star in all that small yet infinite universe.

Between the painful and the brilliant memories, all those agitated galaxies that comprised the place were created. The telepath could feel the magnetism being born from all that nebulae in a stealthy but persistent way.

Erik's mind seemed like the Guernica painted with stardust. So full of war, beauty, disorder, sublimity.

Meanwhile, Erik was sitting on his bed, looking outside the window. He had lived in the mutant shelter for quite a while now.

It didn't take long for him to realize that something was wrong with his mind. He realized that a presence was in there, and it took just a brief second for one of his most precious memories to come to mind like déjà vu, instantly recognizing that person.

Recognizing when a telepath is inside your mind is not an easy task, but Charles had taught it to him years ago. Now, the telepath wondered if it had been a good idea to have taught that to Erik.

"Charles?"

That precious name touched Erik's lips in a hopeful sigh. The man wasn't quite sure if he had drunk too much whiskey and was beginning to imagine things.

"Happy birthday, Erik."

Said a voice pearled with memories within the magnetic's mind. His tone was calm and somewhat carefree as if that situation was the most normal thing in the world. But slight nuances of nostalgia, pain, and... love colored the letters of the man's name.

Charles was grateful that he didn't have to speak aloud, so that the opposite would not have to hear his voice breaking more and more with each syllable, making a clear portrait of his trembling heart.

Before leaving the mind of the other, the telepath stopped for a moment to feel how sadness and happiness were intermingled in each star of those nebulae, creating a battle that they both knew would win the distance from each other.

A selfish thought crossed Charles's mind, as a small part of him was glad that Erik still cared, if only a little.

Erik felt Charles's presence fade from his mind, leaving it with a cold feeling of loneliness. For a few seconds, he forgot that he was the great and impenetrable Magneto. He forgot about his promise of never to love anyone else. He forgot to forget about affection. For a few seconds, he was Erik again. That boy who jokingly kissed the hand of a young blue-eyed man while taking him out to dance to the sound of Can't help falling in love.

Magneto had dedicated half of his life to lock Erik in the depths of his mind. And with him, all the memories of those crimson lips he longed for.

But, with a simple touch, Charles managed to make Erik dominate every cell of his body, making that song resonate in his ears, accustomed to the deafening sound of bullets. What Charles had given him, Erik didn't know. But he guessed he really couldn't help falling in love with that man.

The two men would never talk about the tears that were created in their orbs. Or the small smiles that raised the corners of their lips. Neither the heavy knot that closed their stomachs or the devastating cold that harbored their minds. Not even the glass that they both served themselves, knowing that neither one nor a thousand could fill the void that the other had left in their lives.

#cherik #erik lensherr x charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #mutant husbands #fanfiction #writing #my writing #fanfic #xmen #professor x #magneto #one shot

[soulcaging]

Minttt~ a question for you, sweets. I want you to recall those passions for your muse(s) and tell me why you decided to portray them as a muse. what do you resonate with? what do you feel when you look at your muse(s)? I say muses bc I know you have several akjfsa including all those years ago. thank you xoxo

                  OOC : ohhh monique, you SPOIL me !! ghfhdg lets see if i can put my thoughts down in a way thatll make sense to literally anyone other than me... lets hope read mores work for those who dont want a block of text ghdfhgh so sorry

when it comes to k/ris, it's always been the intrigue of someone forced against their will to do something, the idea that one day you can wake up and something foreign goes through your day for you. not even because its malicious, but because it wants to know about your life. it's just this fucked up reality k/ris lives in, but thats not the only reason i was so intrigued by them. ive always had an attachment to the human kids in ut, having rp'd them both in the past, but the worth highlighting rn is c/hara. k/ris gave me so much c/hara didnt, they gave me familial bonding and connections one can easily dig their teeth into, it was a lot more... blatant ? and i got so attached to this too. its like... this kid had a life before everything happened in dr, and i just. grabs them. shakes them. theyre SO fun to rp. i have a thing where i cant handle a lot of angst, so someone like k/ris is perfect for me -- theyre struggling with the cosmic horror of the player, sure, but theyre not just that struggle. theyre a kid, they like pranks, they play the piano, they miss their brother, they have friends, they eat things no human should... theyre just. theyre just a human being. and i love everything abt them like theyre my own kid. i care them so fuckign much.

----

.................................. well... since you said muses plural, youve activated my trap card  ( talking about p/apyrus for more than 2 seconds )

PAP MY GOD DAMN BELOVED. everything about him makes my neurons light up like a god damn christmas light show in the US. its the energy, the facade of confidence, the way his unending friendliness almost comes to his detriment, how he uses his ego to not only lift himself up, but you as well, and !! so much MORE its absolutely impossible for me to say it all !!!! ive loved pap for years now, ive explored almost every valley when it comes to him in my brain, and yet i still find myself so fixated on him. even when i wasnt into ut/dr i would still talk to people about him since i think a LOT abt how its implied pap is really strong. like everyones all fixated on s/ans huh ??? what abt my BOY ????? im sure if he wasnt so friendly and if he didnt have his special attackTM stolen, he wouldve EASILY been as powerful as his brother. maybe more, since paps is the only one out of the two to mention control inputs directly. imagine.... i could genuinely ramble abt pap for years if given the opportunity but i have so many other muses i wanna talk abt so just know this: i love him.

----

ah, j/evil, my most recent muse in my endless library of ut/dr muses. its so funny, i only really mused him because i already had a muse similar to him and i listened to the man on the internets version of the world revolving  ( 1 hr ver ) on loop for. hm. Too Long. i got attached to him for similar reasons as both k/ris and pap, since in the most odd of ways, hes... a combination of the two ? in a way ???   hes a ball of endless energy, a puppet who doesnt see himself as trapped, not because hes free, but because hes made himself believe he is. also, the way he talks itches so many parts of my brain, i love how distinct it is, how weird it is. hes just a funky lil guy !  hes the one i have least to talk abt, but, hes very enjoyable

----

now its time for me to get emotional over my past, get ready

it all started with me musing s/ans, so in a way, i have him to thank for the fact i even started in this community !!  my passion for rping him is all but gone, but i cant forget my roots. then of course, i picked up f/risk and c/hara, and those are when i was REALLY into the community and felt like i had a voice in it.  ( im still surprised anyone would notice me, considering i was just a lil 15 y/o with shitty icons LMAO )  this community has always been so good to me, and re-meeting people i met through it  ( like you !!! )  is the easiest way for me to feel so, so, so happy. i grew up in this community, starting off as a 15 y/o, but now im 21. isnt that fucking wild ??  thats 6 years !!!  and yet im still here, i still consider everyone i met in the community friends, if not family, and if im honest... thats the biggest motivator for me to be here. my silly little family of silly little rpers. <3

#this is long im very sorry #i got very emotional at the end jhdfjgh #thank u monique ilysm <333 #// INBOX. →♡ ⸢ stop mumbling. ⸥ #// OOC. →♡ ⸢ human error. ⸥

[brightlotusmoon]

Me, trying to explain how I'm autistic to someone with an autistic kid who thinks he might be autistic so I was trying to be simplistic:

Yes, the scholarly side of autistic advocates have linked it to genetics. Environmental cofactors are still being studied. But it's really just our developing brains rewiring into a more sensory oriented neurotype. Autistics have a lot more sensory neurons all over, it's been found. We're like Linux in a Mac world, to use a popular analogy. And we get quickly overloaded with a deeper synesthetic reaction to both external and internal stimuli, thus the functioning labels given to us are much too arbitrary. Our spectrum isn't a line, it's a Mobius strip. A color wheel. A sundae bar.

Like... my support needs are low for the most part, but that doesn't mean my functioning levels are high. It doesn't mean my autism is mild or slight. It means that neurotypical society sees my autism as "less disruptive" overall.

For example, I headcanon all four Ninja Turtles as autistic in four different ways. We know how unique they each are. And they each display a comorbidity or two, like Mikey's ADHD. I'd say they all have PTSD, just imagine Donnie's though. And Raphael has multiple anxiety disorders, alexithymia, emotional dysregulation. But for years and years, I didn't know those terms fifteen years ago, even ten.

TMNT History Time! Back in the 2000s after the 2003 show came out, Aspergers became noticed and the fandom decided that Donatello had it. Some folks also knew that Michelangelo had undiagnosed ADHD, but ADHD was being demonized at the time and many fans didn't like that Mikey was "the poster boy." And others suspected that Mikey had it but they stereotyped him and exaggerated his loud obnoxious immaturity.

I had just been diagnosed ADHD back then, just before 2003, also with dyscalculia that nobody understood. And I was also a young adult undiagnosed autistic. I'd also been born with what the doctors called 'mild' spastic cerebral palsy that was seen as Not So Bad because I didn't look like a stereotype. And because of all that, I had very strong Feelings about Don and Mike, for me it was a big deal, seeing different parts of myself in both turtles.

History within History! During that time, Autism Speaks was founded and quickly became disliked by the majority of autistic activists as they advertised and cemented the vicious ideas that autism was a terrible burden that made people want to kill their children, that autistic people weren't fully human, in fact 'the least us' and likened to lepers according to the founders of Autism Speaks, that autistic kids weren't full human people unless they had ABA and were physically abused and emotionally gaslit into conforming, even in modern ABA which encourages manipulating autistics into being happy, the core of the ABA therapy concept.

Now, by that point, my mentors had coined terms like 'neurodivergence' to identify individuals versus neurodiversity as a group - they had previously coined 'cousin neurologies' to connect the comorbidities between autism and ADHD and other conditions. Autism Speaks began plagiazing their online essays, editing them to leave out important parts, because the autistic authors talked about being fine the way they were, talking about not needing a cure.

Then, Autism Speaks began promoting eugenics. And afterwards it was decided that Aspergers, which came out of the eugenics programs from WWII, would be merged into the autism spectrum in the USA, which felt right as more research showed how autism was not so much a disability or disorder by itself as it was a whole brainbody wiring down to cellular structure, a collective of traits, skills, syndromes, strengths and weaknesses, which could be disabilities and skill sets alike.

An entire movement within the advocate community began that started looking at fictional characters who could be autistic or ADHD or both. Kids and adults would be able to relate.

And now, fandoms are actively creating original characters with autistic traits, with ADHD, by actual autistic fans or allies who closely research the neurologies. I didn't have anything like that when I was young.

I didn't have the words, not even labels to defend from people who.now roll their eyes claiming "labels are for soup cans" and "we don't do labels" - also, PS, in order to say you don't do labels you first need to be able to know what labels you could have and be able to make a choice in having labels, and I didn't even have that - so I love having such a choice.

And you will have to put up with me writing fiction about autistic ADHD pansexual demisexual characters who are psionic. See, having been born with brain damage and cerebral palsy, I really wanted to be Jean Grey so I could have telekinesis) and I once wrote an unfinished crossover between X-Men and Ninja Turtles where 2003 Mikey gained the power of The Phoenix and later a Supernatural crossover where Mikey and Sam became friends.

TLDR, there's a lot of flavors of being autistic.

#being autistic #actually autistic #autistic community #autistic positivity #autistic experiences #autism and adhd are cousins #autism is my identity #functioning labels are arbitrary bullshit #autism is not hot sauce #autism is not an accessory #aspergers is autism #this is why i argue with autism moms #adhd is exempt from allistic fuckery #fuck aba #i created this tumblr because of michelangelo #tmnt is my hyperfocus #tmnt is my autistic special interest #tmnt is forever changing #michelangelo is my hyperfixation #neuropsychology of michelangelo #michelangelo is adhd and autistic like me #tmnt michelangelo #the neuropsychology of michelangelo #thesis #donatello is autistic obviously but so is michelangelo #donatello the wild scientist #donatello is a precious geek and he adores mikey #i'm married to a mikey and donnie type anyway #self reflection

[bearwithglassess]

Two People Share One Heart. A Theory Solves It.

I was with my mother while watching a tv drama. Not an avid fan of tv drama, but my mom summarized all the episodes that she had watched. Something caught my attention when she mentioned the woman got a heart transplant, and how she became attracted to the donor’s husband which she never had feelings for him before the surgery. In the end, the woman cried after she saw the donor’s husband was with another woman.

Scriptwriters tell cliche stories about heart transplants: the nonstop romance between the leading actor and the donor’s lover, shows strange events surrounding the actor, and his character develops when the donor tried connecting with him.

What I observed in this particular story, it displays the presence of the donor still exists in the receiver’s body after the heart transplant; whether it’s a good ending or a bad one, the leading actor portrays two different people in one body. As the result, I decided to gather information on how the scriptwriters got this idea for their TV series, and where it was started.

To my amazed, there are several postings on the internet, discussing the explanations to the mystery of the heart transplant. On YouTube, there's one video talking about the person who inherited the donor’s traits after the heart transplant. In spiritual explanation, they believed that the new heart serves as a bridge between the donor’s soul to the heart receiver. Thus, researchers investigated with several patients who underwent the heart transplant. It reveals that few heart receivers acquire some characteristics of the donor such as selections to food, music, and talent that are not preferable to them before. They can also visualize the donor’s life regardless of their connection.

WHO DISCOVERS IT?

The phenomenon was known in 1988, when a 70-year-old female named Claire Sylvia suffered from Primary Pulmonary Hypertension. She received both heart-lung transplant from an 18-year-old boy who died from a motorcycle accident. After the surgery, she had a sudden craving for beers, and her selection of clothes got changed into cool colored clothes. She claimed that she also had dreams of a tall, thin teenager whose name is TL.

In her book entitled, “A Change of Heart: A Memoir” stated that “The mysterious new entity within her body reminded her of pregnancy, when she felt she embodied something "foreign and beyond my control, yet terribly precious and vulnerable [as if] a second soul was sharing my body". And that soul was stereotypically masculine, making her more aggressive and confident” 

Later, she found out those strange dreams and behaviors came from the donor named Tim when she decided to visit the boy’s parent. Sylvia contacted the scientists to understand herself better regarding her experiences after the organ transplant.

WHAT CAUSE OF IT?

The phenomenon is called the Cellular Memory Theory. It is a neurobiological hypothesis that the heart can send memories to other parts of the body besides the brain. Cell memory is commonly emotional, kinesthetic, and long-term memory which performs certain tasks that we are not aware of. Strong memories like traumatic events can cause an involuntary reaction to the person. This theory involves with patients who underwent heart transplants and acquire the qualities of the donor afterward.

Two medical professionals, Schwartz and Pearsall, conducted the study at the University of Arizona. They gathered approximately 80 respondents who undergone with the heart transplant, sharing their odd experiences relating to their new heart; they also collected information from the families and friends in both parties while audiotaping their conversation.

In their case studies, a 56-year old professor who was diagnosed with Atherosclerosis and Ishemic Heart Disease received the heart transplant from a 34-year old police officer, attempting to capture the drug dealer.

According to the patient, he usually dreams of the face of Jesus Christ and a flash of light to his face, sometimes he felt a slight burn coming from the light. He reported to his doctors about the unusual dream, but he only told them about the white light. The doctors explained that it was the side effect of the medication that causes weird dreams, until the donor’s wife verified how her husband dies and the appearance of the culprit. 

The donor’s wife said "What really bothers me, though, is when Casey (heart receiver's wife) said offhandedly that the only real side-effect of Ben's surgery was flashes of light in his face. That's exactly how Carl (donor) died. The bastard shot him right in the face. The last thing he must have seen is a terrible flash. They never caught the guy, but they think they know who it is. I've seen the drawing of his face. The guy has long hair, deep eyes, a beard, and a real calm look. He looks sort of like some of the pictures of Jesus.”

 Another case study, where a 47-year old male worker diagnosed with Aortic Stenosis received a heart from a 17-year old black student, a victim from a drive-by-shooting. He was found dead on the street while hugging his violin case. His mother told us that he loved classical music and played the violin well.

During the interview, the heart receiver mentioned that he was not fond of classical music. He was more concerned about his new heart coming from a black guy. Afterward, the receiver’s wife reported his behavior after the heart transplant.

She said “For the first time he's invited his black friends over from work. It is like he doesn't see their color anymore, even though he still talks about it sometimes. He seems more comfortable and at ease with these black guys, but he is not aware of it. And one more thing I should say. He's driving me nuts with the classical music. He does not know the name of one song and never, never listened to it before. Now, he sits for hours and listens to it. He even whistles classical music songs that he could never know. How does he know them? You'd think he'd like rap music or something because of his black heart.”

 The study concluded that donated heart can transfer memories to the organ receiver. Researchers believed that a network of neurons in the donated heart stores the memories of the donor and sends it to the heart receivers. The heart receivers will either inherit the donor’s trait or recall the past memories of the donor’s life. Although there are no sufficient tools that can identify for better understanding the cell memories, researchers provided a theoretical hypothesis which it shows shreds of evidence supporting their theory. 

DOES ANYONE CAN EXPERIENCE IT?

Not everyone can experience the Cellular Memory Phenomenon, only a few patients who are sensitive to their new heart can experience the phenomenon. In their research, there are only 10 out of 80 patients who experiencing the phenomenon while the other patients verbalize that they did not feel different after the surgery. Pearsall explained that immunosuppressant drugs might inhibit the transmission of cell memories that other patients are unaffected after they received a new heart. 

RELATED ARTICLES:

Other conducted research 

Stories of heart transplant patients

Schwartz and Pearsall's research’ 

Research on sea slugs related to cellular memory theory

The Story of Claire Sylvia

Cell Memory in Organ Transplant

#memory #body memories #heart transplant #organ transplant #heart donors #heart receivers #organ donors #organ receivers #health #research paper #article #content writing

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Cadmus’ Revenge

WARNING FOR THEMES OF SELF-HARM, SUICIDAL IDEATION, PARANOIA, NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCE.

A/N: This story is not a character death, and ends on a happy note.

----

Cadmus is resurrected, and abducts Lena. She's missing for over a year when they finally find her, in a facility packed with guards but devoid of any trace of Lillian. They find Lena pale and thin but alive in a small windowless cell. Down the hall and around the corner, they find a chilling lab, complete with a chair that looks like it belongs in a dentist’s office, if not for the manacles bolted to the arms and legs, and the macabre net of needled probes haloing the headrest.

Lena sleeps for days when they get her to the DEO. They clean the smears of blood from her forehead, examine her from head to toe, but when she wakes Lena is hale and whole and remarkably cogent. She doesn't seem surprised by her rescue, and is neither scared nor thrilled to be back. 

She's a little distant, but otherwise well-adjusted-- unnervingly so. The Superfriends are all massively concerned, but Lena goes to therapy, she follows the doctors' instructions, and they don't want to make it worse so they just... let her be. 

Until the day that Kara walks into Lena's L-Corp office as Supergirl, and finds her building a bomb. 

A big one.

"Is that...?"

"A bomb?" Lena replies coolly. "Yep. I'm surprised it took you this long."

"Lena..."

"Don't come any closer," comes an off-hand warning, along with a head tilt towards a new arrangement of wall-mounted rail guns suddenly aimed at Kara. 

"Those are loaded with kryptonite bullets. Not sure if kryptonite is needed against a construct, but just in case you're following the usual rules... even if it doesn’t kill you, it'll hurt like hell."

Kara swallows thickly. "I don't know what's happening, but I do know that this isn't you. Step away from the desk, and we can talk about what's going on with you, okay?"

"Nope. No more talking. No more interrogations, no more debriefing. No more scenarios."

Scenarios? "Lena, what--"

"I'm a little surprised to be honest. You usually catch on to my escape attempts a lot sooner. But that was my mistake, wasn’t it? Escape." 

Finally, Lena straightens and turns, pressing a button that sets a countdown in red lights. 

"Tell me, mother," Lena smirks, folding her arms against her chest. "Do you believe what they say about the Matrix?"

Kara doesn't understand what's going on, but she does understand that Lena is not well, and she understands that Lena is fully intent on blowing them both up. And the whole city block, if the size of the bomb and Lena's acumen are any indication.

"Lena, please..."

Green eyes regard her coolly. "You really do look like her. Its the closest you come yet. Fitting that it'll also be your last."

"What do you mean?"

"Scorched earth. There's nothing to reset if this explosion fries every neuron in my skull. So whatever you're looking for, better ask now before I'm brain dead."

"Lena--"

"Oh, and before you decide to blip out on me, I should probably mention that this room is equipped with an electromagnetic barrier. Again, not totally sure it works against what amounts to an online avatar, but I figured I might as well do my best to rid the world of both us Luthors."

"I am not your mother..." 

"Obviously."

Kara's gaze flickers to the timer, ticking down. Less than twenty seconds.

"Lena, I am not Lillian, I am not here to hurt you, but I need you to let me get that bomb out of here--!"

"Ooh, the tears are a nice touch. For a heartless bitch I'm impressed--"

"I am not your mother!"

"You're not Supergirl, either--"

Without thinking, Kara surges forward, pressing her lips against Lena's. She can almost feel the surprised stutter of her heartbeat underneath the panicked roar in her own ears.

She pulls away, maintaining her grip on Lena's face to stare deep into her eyes. Shocked green stares at her, her calm confidence flickering in confusion.

"Would your mother have done that?!"

Lena's mouth works wordlessly, finally returning something human to her. Finally, she looks at the room around her as though seeing it for the first time. Too late.

The timer flickers from two seconds to one.

"LENA!”

She only has time to wrap her arms and her cape around Lena before the bomb detonates. The force of the shock wave throws them through the office wall, followed by a bellow of flame and debris.

Heat engulfs them both, swallowing them in a blazing inferno that seems to last hours. Kara's entire focus narrows to funneling cold air from her lungs to the hollow of her cape, cooling the air within before the superheated gust could sear Lena's lungs. 

For an interminable moment, her world is fire and ice, and the desperate, panicked prayer that when it abates, Lena's heart will still be beating.

As soon as she can spare an ounce of focus she propels them both through the nearest window. The blaze chases at their heels, hungry for the oxygen accessible through the broken pane. Kara doesn't stop. Not until she's skidding against the floor of the DEO lobby, Lena cradled against her chest.

"Supergirl!" Alex calls, cutting through the blur of Kara's shock. "We just got the alert about--"

She cuts off abruptly as Kara peels back her cape to reveal the bruised and ashen features of an unconscious Lena. Her hair is dry and singed, soot staining every inch of her, blackening the raw, weeping burns the cape couldn't protect against.

Kara looks up at her sister, tears cutting twin tracks down her cheeks.

"Lena's not okay."

---

Lena wakes in the infirmary, bandaged, medicated, and under constant guard. Kara remains at her side, and straightens when she sees her friend's eyes flutter open.

"Lena?”

At the sound of her voice, Lena's eyes pinch shut. Gritting her teeth, her hands fist in the blankets.

"Are you in pain? Alex! Lena, it's all right, you're safe--"

"Shut up!" Lena cries. For the first time, something besides ready acceptance colors her voice-- despair. "Just shut up! You're not real. You're not real!"

Kara stares, helpless. Alex materializes at her side, watching with wide eyes. 

"It should have worked, why didn't it work... You're not real. Not real..."

"Lena..."

"You're not real!"

---

The chair, Brainy deduces, was a means to run a series of simulations. From the data he's able to mine, Lena has spent most of her captivity in that chair, trapped in an ever evolving construct of her own mind, where it learned her patterns and expectations until it could render even the most realistic and intricate scenarios. 

For what purpose, they don't know.

"Information, perhaps," Brainy suggests, his anxiety betrayed by his habitual twisting of the Legion ring on his finger. "Something they anticipated Lena would only share with a familiar figure."

"Or maybe to mine her intellect?" Alex theorizes. "If they had a problem, Lena would be the one to solve it."

"Whatever the reason," Kara concludes, her voice low, "Lena caught on. She learned to doubt everything she saw. Us included."

"So how do we snap her out of it?" Nia asks. 

They all exchange glances, hoping another has an answer.

None of them do.

---

Reason gets them nowhere. 

Footage of Lena’s discovery and rescue is met with disinterest. Detailing the ongoing search for Cadmus and her mother puts Lena to sleep.

They take her to L-Corp to show her the aftermath of her bomb. Thankfully, they'd been the only ones in the building, but the damage was substantial even weeks later, and it seems that none of the prior simulations ever displayed such continuity. For a moment, her mask cracks.

They try to capitalize on their opportunity by immediately following up with a game night. Lena loses soundly, seemingly another distinct change. Lena's features soften further, enough for the tiniest of smiles to creep over her, and for a moment they can believe that they've finally gotten through. 

Twenty minutes later, Alex finds Lena in Kara's bathroom, carving a long, deep line into her forearm with a razor.

Chaos reigns, and a hopeless fear creeps into Kara's heart as she cradles Lena in her lap. Alex wraps a hand towel tightly around the wound, lifting it above Lena's head while Brainy notifies the DEO.

"Lena... please," Kara whispers. "I don't know how to help you. Tell me what I need to do."

Hazy green eyes gaze up at her.

"Let me go..."

"No, Lena--"

"Please, Mom…" Lena's voice cracks. A tear squeezes from the corner of her eye, coursing down her temple to pool against Kara's hand. "Let me go."

It's worse than the moments before the bomb went off. This time, it isn't a triumph of spite.

This time, it's surrender.

---

It's a surrender none of them accept. 

When Lena is stitched up and resting under sedation in the infirmary of the DEO, the rest of them gather to discuss a new plan of action.

"There is likely no way to convince Lena that this is the true physical world," Brainy delivers crisply. "The nature of the machine allows it to perfect mimic the world she expects to see, but any aberration to that effect is merely a glitch, or an instance of learning."

Alex shakes her head, hands propped on her hips. "I refuse to believe there's nothing we can do. There must be something we're missing."

Silence stretches between them, until Kara rocks back in her seat. 

"If we can't convince her out here, maybe we can convince her in there."

Nia blinks. "In... where?"

Turning to Brainy, Kara takes a deep breath. "Brainy, you've found mind-palaces for both me and James. Do you think you could find Lena's?"

"You think we might connect with her there," James fills in. "Like Kelly did with me."

Kara shrugs. "It's worth a shot."

"It would be exceedingly difficult," Brainy warns. "Even before this recent trauma, Lena has relied heavily on compartmentalization, which I now know is not a healthy mode by which to operate. Her mind is bound to be in chaos-- if there are any boxes left, it may be wise to leave them unopened."

"Could you build a new one?" Alex asks. 

Nia shakes her head. "Isn't that what got us into this mess in the first place?"

"I don't know what else we can do!" Kara snaps. "I am not going to just sit here and watch her kill herself! I won't! We--" Her voice cracks. "We just got her back..."

The others stare at her in stunned silence. Kara swallows her rising sobs, and looks omce more to Brainy.

Brainy shifts uncomfortably.

"I will try."

---

It takes days, but with Nia's help, Brainy succeeds. He finds the one quiet corner of Lena's mind, and with the aid of Nia's psychic powers manages to tethers Lena's consciousness to it. The moment he gives the signal, Kara puts white diode to her forehead and closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, she finds herself standing on the rocky shore of a wide flat lake, the water so still it turns the surface to mirrored glass.

On the shore stands a familiar figure, looking out across the water with an air of peaceful serenity.

"Lena?"

Lena turns, and when she lays eyes on Kara her features spread into a soft, sweet smile. "Kara..."

The next thing Kara knows, she's wrapped up in all she remembers Lena to be-- her warmth; the smell of her shampoo; the press of broad hands against her back, pulling her close. 

"I've missed you," Lena murmurs. Kara hiccups a sob, half of a laugh. If only Lena knew... "But I think I've finally done it. It worked."

Kara's purpose catches up to her like a knife to the heart. She grips Lena tighter. 

"You're not dead, Lena."

Lena pulls back, resting her hands on Kara's shoulders. "It's okay," she says calmly. "It means it's finally over."

"No, Lena. We saved your life. This place isn't real, Brainy made it so we could talk to you."

Kara braces for Lena's reaction, but it comes in the form of lines crinkling at the corners of Lena's eyes. 

"It is real. Real enough, at least." She turns to look out across the water. Though she pulls out of Kara's embrace to do so, their fingers lace together in a gentle grip. "My mother died here."

Kara's heart pounds against her ribs. This isn't a construct of Brainy's design. It was something else. 

Lena turns to look at her, giving their joined hands a squeeze. "I'm glad I got to see you again."

Absurdly, Kara's reminded of The Deathly Hallows, and Dumbledore's final scene in a quiet, sterile version of Kings Cross Station. That's what this place feels like: a waystation. A platform to say goodbye.

"No."

Her voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and incisive. She pulls Lena back around to face her, and gets a startled pair of green eyes staring back.

"Four months ago, we found you and rescued you from a Cadmus facility. In that same facility, we found a chair."

Alarm sharpens Lena's gaze. She tries to pull free, but Kara tightens her grip. "No, no, I won't--"

"You're not there anymore," Kara promises, rubbing her thumbs against Lena's hands in comfort. "We brought you home. We thought you were fine, but-- six weeks ago, you built a bomb in your office. And then you tried to stop eating. And then..."

"Stop," Lena said. "Let me go--"

"I don't know what Lillian wanted from you--"

"LET ME GO!"

Lena tore free, stumbling backwards from the force of it. Suddenly, the placid aura of the lake shattered with the sharp, heaving sobs of Lena sitting among the rocks, hands pressed tight to either side of her head. 

"It wasn't enough... it's never enough! Why won't you let me go?! Please! Please just let me go..."

Kara sits on the pebbled beach in front of Lena. When she reaches for Lena, it's to place one hand on a pale ankle, exposed by a denim cuff. 

"I don't know what she wanted from you," Kara says again, more gently. "And I'm not going to ask."

Rocking, hands pressed tight to her head, Lena says nothing.

"I don't know how to convince you the real world is out there," Kara continues. "I don't know if I can. Maybe... maybe you just have to choose to believe that it is."

"I won't give you anything--"

"The only thing we're asking for is you, Lena."

Lena opens her eyes, meeting Kara's gaze for a brief moment before the anguish returns, and Lena rocks backwards once more, breath quickening with anxiety as her features pinch in distress.

"We won't ask you any questions except what you want to have for lunch," Kara continues, desperate, "or what movie you want to watch on Friday night. We don't even have to stay in National City. We can go up to the mountains-- find you a lake just like this one, where no one can find you."

Lena stills. Her eyes stay closed, her body continues to tremble, but the rocking stops, and Kara hears the steadying breath that cuts through it all.

When Lena makes no move to speak, Kara tries one last time.

"I know it won't be easy. I know how tempting it is to just let go. And I know I can't stop you." Her hand firms on Lena's ankle. "This is your crossroads, Lena. Whatever happens next, you have to choose. All I'm asking, right here, right now, is that you choose us."

Kara's breath catches in her chest. 

"All I'm asking is for one more day with you. So that tomorrow I can have one more chance to ask you to stay. However many times it takes."

Lena sags, exhaling into a sob. She reaches for Kara's hand. 

"I'm so tired, Kara," she whispers.

Nodding, Kara blinks back her tears. "I know... I know."

They sit together for long minutes, until Kara senses that her time here is down. Whatever happens next, comes from Lena, and no one else. 

"If you do choose to let go," she croaks. "Please know how sorry I am that I didn't find you sooner. And know that we don't blame you. We love you, and we'll miss you every day."

With a final squeeze, Kara climbs to her feet, letting Lena's hand slip from her fingers.

"Kara--!"

"I love you, Lena. With all my heart."

Kara blinks open to the sight of the med bay ceiling, and the weight of Alex's hand in hers. 

"Kara?"

Brainy and Nia both exhale, turning to face her.

"It worked," Kara croaks. She pulls the sensor from her forehead and sits up, scrubbing the tears from her cheeks. "I saw her."

"What happened? Did she believe you--?"

"She needs to choose," is all Kara can say. "She has to choose."

Together, they wait.

---

Kara stays at Lena's bedside as she sleeps, long after the sedative wears off. As the minutes and hours tick by, Kara waits for the ever growing expectation that the only change in Lena's condition will be the flatline of the heart monitor.

Which is why she jumps a foot in the air when Lena's hand tightens on hers, well into the next morning. 

"Lena?" 

The room wakes around them: Nia bolts upright from where she'd slumped against Brainy's shoulder; Alex pushes off the wall, crossing towards the bed; James jolts awake, blinking and bleary-eyed.

Lena flinches when her eyes open to find shadows looming over her, as her heart monitor jumps alarmingly. Kara motions them back with her free hand, the other still locked around Lena's.

"Lena, can you hear me?"

After a long moment, Lena manages to turn her head, focusing a blurry gaze on Kara.

"Kara...?"

"It's me." Kara coughs out a smile. "It's us."

Lena blinks sluggishly against the hairs sticking to her forehead with sweat, jutting out over her eyes. Kara reaches up to smooth them away, then lets her hand linger against Lena's skin. Lena breathes softly, turning her face into Kara's touch. 

"I choose you."

#supercorp #cadmus revenge #cw suicidal ideation #cw paranoia #cw self harm #pls avoid if you're not comfortable #idk where this came from #but i def worked on this all day instead of any of my other ideas #but i like it #happy ending #not a character death

[flying-elliska]

Ellie you write the most elaborate aus!! How do you come up with it all? Like are you one of those people who daydreams fantastically and then weaves a story from it? Do you decide I want lawyer/client or gods for Elu and then what? Where does it come froooom take me through your process please !!

Ahhaha actually both these AU ideas started during conversations with friends where we were just goofing around, and then I start drawing connections and coming up with ideas and it just goes booooom, when it kind of...hits on a story trope or vibe I already found interesting before ? 

I am a daydreamer indeed lmao ^^ I really am the type to see patterns and stories everywhere and my first reaction to Stuff Happening is omg i can make this into a story !!! and so over time I have stored a ton of story ideas in my brain attic and fanfic is great because you can play around with those when it connects in the right way. 

For Myth AU I’ve loved the Myth of Hades and Persephone for a long time, I actually read a book about the Mysteries of Eleusis a long time ago, and also a queer retelling book that I found cool but also frustratingly lacking, and then I was playing this really really bad romance choices game app which I gave up after a few episodes but I found the core concept of having gods in the modern age interesting, and then this convo with a friend came  where we talked about which AUs we would like to see more of and I think it was like... an accumulation of enough stuff that it went bam! i can do this. 

For Diamants!AU it was this convo on tumblr about Maxence having done law studies and imagining Eliott as a lawyer, then I started thinking about a Suits!AU but then I realized I couldn’t write that because i don’t know shit about law lol. So I started thinking, Eliott is this cagey, bit flakey, artsy, introverted, rebellious loner of a character what the FUCK would push him to study law lol, and i was like, of course, family pressure ! and so there was this opposition btw him and his family, and a parallel w Lucas because there is a huge potential for asshole father there, and of course I am obsessed w stories about dysfunctional families, so that I can write. And basically as I started writing the story, a lot of my interests started to get pulled in, like politics and gangster stuff, mental health questions,  etc

So i think my process is really...to be curious about a lot of different things, and to have an interest in VIBE - which is basically that you can have a sensitivity towards the emotions and symbols and atmospheres that go along with a certain world/trope. Like mythology = more simplified, archetypal, fairy tale story, sweeping romance, poetry, hedonism, philosophy, big symbols, you already have a canvas to work on, ppl are expecting certain things, delight in repetition, (very fitting for fic) also room for subversion. Gangsters = drama around violence and its romanticisation, masculinity trouble, repression, family, loyalty, chiaroscuro noir vibe, sort of sad/majestic but also very grim and gritty, who can you rely on when the ‘lawful’ world fails you, questions about the true nature of humankind and good and evil, etc.

Really i think when you’re a writer it’s this continuous process of seeing stories everywhere and being interested in things and making connections, and then sometimes two different things spark a connection like neurons and you have a thought about a specific story, but really you’ve been working on it before you actually knew it existed, and you have this symbolic-story ecosystem in your head that you have to keep feeding for it to stay rich and engaging, with things that challenge you and entice you to write about, and questions you have

[stressedoutpixie]

celestial bodies

I stare up at the moon and its fullness. The ring of light that it emits is so bright it drowns out the stars that were seeking refuge in its closeness. The longer I stare, the harder it is pull my eyes away from and the harder it is to scrub the brightness from my retinas.

I am the moon. 

I try my best to help those who have chosen me, but when my head is full of everything and nothing at all, I decimate the light of those nearby. As I observe the world from such great heights, all I can see is how much effort people exude. They toil and work away every day, monotonous, just for their breaks on Saturdays and Sundays when they go out, paste on smiles, and pretend to enjoy their jobs, their days, their lives. I am struck by how each one continues until either their body fails or their brain does, and they are left with nothing and fade into ash, their memory scattered across neurons and galaxies. 

I am the stars. 

My light is scattered across infinite space, never quite touching, try though as it might. The blackness between is pitch and tar. Every time the light goes out to penetrate it, it is consumed and swallowed whole. Something in me says that the light I have must not be fated to touch and I am destined to spend the rest of my monotony trying desperately to connect the dots of two separate pictures.

I am the sun. 

Radiant from far away, but up close I am blistering and explosive. Over exposure causes burns and scars, peeling and flaking. So many say that I light up their life, but when my heat is too much, they spit spite and resent into my face while taking shelter away from my grasp. If the sun decided to quit shining, all life would cease to exist. In this era, maybe that would be for the best. 

Before, I always wanted to be like the sun, the moon, or the stars. Ethereal and untouchable, to be gazed at and admired. Now that I have become the celestial bodies I so admire, I cannot fathom why I ever longed for such torture. I am ethereal and untouchable, but the distance is lonely and when people get to close, they lose the oxygen required to sustain their own lives. 

I want to get down from my place in the heavens, now. I want to return to Earth, even as it falls to pieces. Maybe then I won’t feel so condemned to solitude.   

#drabble #writing #celestial #thinking